#do you understand how it feels to be understood

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {2}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It seems as if everything you ever dreamed of is just within your reach. You got the guys and the baby, the only thing left is the seat. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, fluff WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go || One || Two || Three

A giant raspberry sounded from the nursery, followed by a high pitch giggle and then two deeper laughs. 

“Where do you think you are going?” Lando asked when Autumn rolled to her tummy and started to crawl away. 

“Coming to papa, aren’t you, ma petite?”

Even with the door to the office closed you could hear their soft words as they played in Autumn’s room down the hall. It was hard to concentrate when you were torn between joining your family and completing the testing you were contracted for on the SIM but there were only 30 laps left of the session and the team needed the data. There may have only been three races left for the year but there were plenty of teams with vacant seats waiting to be filled. You understood negotiations took time and there were often conversations with multiple drivers being had at any one time but you were hopeful that at least one seat would be secured for you. The testing for Mercedes, Audi and Williams had been promising. 

You finally shut down the SIM racer and left the office but found the nursery dark except for the moon and star mobile that softly glowed as it played a lullaby for Autumn who was fast asleep in her cot. Disappointment grated your resolution as you came to understand how Charles and Lando felt missing time with her when they went away for work, but you pushed it aside as you leant down and kissed her chubby cheek and whispered, “Sweet dreams, my love.”

Lando grinned when you found him in the kitchen making a drink and he instantly picked up on your mood. “Hi honey, how was work?”

You stuck your tongue out and stole the tea he had made as Charles joined you at the breakfast bar, the baby monitor placed in the middle. “When did she go to sleep?”

“About 10 minutes ago. We tried to keep her awake so she could sleep on the plane but she is like her daddy and loves her naps,” Charles said with a pointed look to Lando. 

You rolled your tense shoulders after hours in the same position driving and moaned when Charles stood up and used his strong hands to massage them. “Fuck that feels good.”

“You know what else feels good?” Lando asked with a suggestive wink. 

You tipped your head back to look up at Charles and found his eyes staring at your breasts with a hunger that could never be sated. “I have a few ideas…” he offered.

You checked your watch and calculated how long Autumn would likely nap for before letting your thoughts wander to the same place as theirs. A trail of clothes littered the hallway to the bedroom and you shoved the suitcases off the bed with little regard for the mess. Motherhood hadn’t diminished your sex drive like some people warned, but the time available was significantly less for said activities. So you made the most of the moments you could. 

“Condoms,” you warned while you were still coherent enough to remember. The train of thought was quickly derailed when Lando caught you around the waist and tossed you across the blankets. In an instant he was there, nudging your thighs apart with his shoulders and burying his face between them. 

Charles was more leisurely, taking his time and stroking his cock while he watched the two of you. His bottom lip swelled as he pinched it between his teeth until he needed to feel your bodies with the same urgency you felt the moment you saw either of them naked. His hands found your breasts that he had fallen more in love with and he delighted in the weight of them filling his palms. That wasn’t the only change to your body that he loved in the last seven months.

The effort put in with Kristian had paid off and you found breastfeeding absolutely burned through the calories, making it much easier than expected to return to a weight close to pre-pregnancy. He had helped you to get fit without compromising your body's ability to make milk but even toning your muscles couldn’t erase the stretch marks that littered your skin. You were no longer self-conscious of them, Charles and Lando had made sure of that months ago. 

Charles’ kiss scorched your lips as he dominated your mouth, parting your lips with his tongue as you moaned against him. Your head fell back as you bared your throat for him, his teeth grazing your racing pulse as he kissed and nipped his way down your body. Your cunt tightened around Lando’s fingers as Charles’ tongue traced the silvery marks that forked like lightning across your hip. It was ticklish and torturous until Lando broke away to share the taste of you with Charles and you moaned at the sight. 

“How are you feeling, mon amour?” Charles asked as you reached for them, stroking their hard lengths while their hands roamed your body.

“Impatient and greedy,” you answered with a needy whine when Lando purposefully missed your clit with his thumb.

“I think she wants us,” Lando teased while Charles reached for the box of condoms. 

“It does appear that way,” he replied with a chuckle, rolling the latex sheath down his length. “But does she want us both at the same time?”

Your lips parted with a moan at the idea and their eyes darkened until you could hardly see any colour around their dilated pupils. “Please…”

Lando grabbed your hips and rolled, taking you with him until you ended up straddling his waist and he looked up happily. “Hello, beautiful. Do you come here often?”

“Not as much as I would like,” you giggled, but it turned to a moan as he lifted you over his cock and let you sink down on him. 

“Putain,” Charles swore softly as he watched you rock your hips and ride Lando. Unable to resist joining in, he straddled Lando’s legs and lined himself up with your body, easing slowly inside as you froze. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t put into words just how much more than okay you were but you managed to moan and nod. 

“She’s good,” Lando confirmed with a strained laugh as he forced himself to stay still while you adjusted to having the both of them seated inside you. It took all his strength not to thrust up like he wanted to, but he didn’t want to hurt you. “Just take it slow, baby.”

Your muscles began to relax and your breathing returned to normal. The strain in your core eased and you slowly began to set the rhythm until the pleasure grew stronger and your body was ready. Moans filled the room and your nails dug into Lando’s chest as your walls fluttered as you fucked yourself against them. Charles reached around your body and cupped your breasts that grew heavy in his touch, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipples until they began to leak. 

“Fuck,” Lando moaned at the mess they made of you. Your jaw hung slack and your eyes fluttered shut as your cunt tightened around him. Creamy milk ran in rivulets down your flesh and pooled on his abdomen and he grabbed your waist, tightening his grasp so he could fuck you harder. He could barely think, barely breathe when you drove him wild with the need to fill your cunt with his seed. Lando’s back arched off the bed, lifting you with his as he cried out with his release. His heart hammered in his chest beneath your palms and his cock pulsed inside you, filling the condom. 

“God, that felt good, too good,” he chuckled as he swiped a thumb over your nipple and licked the drop of milk he collected. “Hmmm, so sweet.”

“They are very full,” you admitted somewhat shyly, having missed feeding Autumn before her nap.

“I can help you with that,” he offered with a smirk and your body gave you away as it clenched around their cocks. 

—

Charles and Lando were still showering when you heard Autumn on the baby monitor. Rushing around the room, you gave up on drying off properly and tossed a robe around your damp body instead. 

“Hello, my littlest love,” you greeted her happily. Light flooded the room as you opened the blockout blinds and found her standing inside her cot, her grabby hands reaching through for you. “I hope you had the sweetest dreams.”

Bright green eyes looked up as you reached down to pick her up and the smile she gave made your heart stutter. The twin dimples were set deep in her round cheeks and the pure joy on her face brightened your day. You still couldn’t believe how lucky you were to call her yours. 

You boyfriends must have finished showering as a delicious scent wafted in from the kitchen and you quickly changed Autumn. “Shall we go see what papa is making for lunch?”

Charles was already placing a plastic bowl of fresh cut fruit beside the high chair but Autumn had no interest in that when she saw your plate of stroopwafels. 

“Just like her mama,” Charles chuckled, placing a second plate down for Lando who emerged from the bedroom half dressed. 

“Have you seen my shirt?”

“You’re going to have to narrow that down,” you commented after swallowing a mouthful of waffles. 

“McLaren one.”

“That doesn’t exactly help, mon cher.”

He waved a hand dismissively before he spied the papaya coloured material in the living room. A corner of the sleeve peeked out from the soft play toys overflowing from the storage box and Lando dug it out with a laugh. 

“See, she wants to join the papaya army,” he said as he sniffed it before pulling it on. 

“Why don’t you get a clean one?”

Lando frowned and looked down to see if there were any marks. “It is clean.”

“Men, honestly,” you muttered to Autumn, only to notice she had stolen a stroopwafel while you weren’t looking. “Hey, that’s mine. You’re lucky you’re cute, missy.”

Charles joined you at the table and reached for one too but you smacked his hand out of the way. “Am I not cute too?” he asked with a pout.

You cradled his jaw and brushed a thumb over his pouting lip before giving him a kiss. “Baby, there’s many things I would call you before calling you cute. Handsome, sexy, love of my life-” 

He cut you off with a kiss, his arm snaking around your body to pull you onto his lap. “Sorry, keep going, amour.”

You blinked twice as you tried to remember what you were doing but he was still distracting you with his lips on your neck. “I lost my train of thought now.”

“Cover your eyes, baby girl,” Lando gasped dramatically. “Papa is being naughty.”

“If papa wasn’t naughty she wouldn’t be here,” you pointed out with a smirk. 

“Would having another be so bad?” 

You practically jumped off Charles’ lap and wagged a finger at him when he shared a conspiratorial look with Lando. 

“Not happening.” You closed your robe tighter to prove the point and crossed your arms over the thick material. “You two can keep it in your pants until those thoughts are looong gone.”

You left them to get dressed and returned in a pair of sweatpants and a stolen hoodie, the attempt to hide your body only making them laugh more. “You do realise I get turned on when you wear my clothes,” Lando pointed out as he tugged the cord, closing the hoodie around your face. With only your lips visible through the hole he stole a kiss and buried his hands in the back pocket on the sweatpants, squeezing your ass. “Forgive me yet, baby?”

“No,” you grumbled, but the way your body leaned into his contradicted the word. 

Light burst back into your vision as Charles pulled the hood back and he tugged you out of Lando’s arms. “We have a flight to get ready for and 20 hours is a long time to have blue balls, mon cher.”

“I just wanted a cuddle,” Lando groaned. Charles gave him a look that said he clearly didn’t believe him and Lando turned away to free Autumn from the high chair. “Come on, princess, it’s just you and me against the world.” 

–

The toddler earmuffs swamped Autumn’s head but they seemed to work as she slept soundly strapped to Lando’s chest in a front pack. It was way past her bedtime and it probably would have been best to return to the hotel and put her in the travel cot but you wanted to be with Lando and Charles for the race. Being back at the track where Lando crashed left all of you unsettled but he calmed down best with Autumn in his arms.

“This late night schedule is so messed up. There’s still four hours to go. What are we meant to do in the meantime?” Charles asked as he checked his phone again for the schedule of pre-race events.

“We could get married, well not legally get married, but nothing says we can’t have the ceremony,” Lando said as he pointed to the paddock chapel: Race to the Altar. “What do you say?”

“Romantic,” you chuckled, watching Charles as he dragged a hand down his face in dismay. “But it’s the thought that counts. Why not?”

“Wait, really?” Lando gaped, unsure if you were playing with him or serious.

You shrugged and looked at Charles. “We already have the baby and you guys already called me your wife.”

“She makes a good point,” he admitted, a smile growing as he looked at Lando. “So?”

Lando’s brows lifted and for a second he was lost for words. “I mean, yeah, let’s just go get married. Why not? Let’s fucking do this. You aren’t joking right?”

“You asked me,” you laughed. “Backing out already?”

“No, absolutely not. We are doing this,” he said with a nod. “But, uh, should we call anyone?”

Max was in the paddock, so was your mother and Lando’s father, but other than that most of your families hadn’t been able to make the trip. 

“How about we do this on our own?” you suggested as you continued along the path towards the Chapel. “Maybe we can have a proper celebration during the break? We don’t even have rings.”

“They actually have themed rings, they are mini Pirelli’s,” Lando said as he showed his phone after a quick google search.

“Yikes, we are not getting the C5 - that just won’t last.”

“Aw, don’t like it soft, baby?”

“C1 all the way,” you said with a flirty wink, “go hard or go home.”

Charles laughed along with Lando. “How about full wets, no?”

“Now you’re talking. Maybe she can wear Wet and we can have Hard’s.” 

“No, thank you. When we get home we can get proper rings made for us.”

The guys still debated getting the Pirelli themed rings in the meantime, until you threatened a quick divorce. It didn’t take much convincing for the minister to make a three way wedding but in Vegas that was probably one of the more sedate requests he had received. 

“There are some suits in the changing room if you want,” he offered, jutting a thumb to the room behind him. “A dress too, ma’am.”

Lando looked down at his McLaren shirt and Charles did the same with his Ferrari. “If you are half as loyal to me as you are to your team then I am one lucky lady,” you chuckled before nodding to the minister. “We are fine as we are, thank you.”

“Okey dokey, then let’s get started. Do you have any vows prepared?” He took the silence as a no and clicked his tongue. “No matter, I have the basics. Just fill out these forms and I’ll take a copy of your ID.”

“This isn’t going to be legal though,” Charles confirmed with a frown.

“Not technically,” he said with a shrug, “but I can still fill out the paperwork and give you a copy for keepsake. Call it ‘the experience’.”

You liked the idea of having marriage certificates and you already knew where you were going to hang the framed copies in the bedroom. It was painful having to complete three forms though, one for your ‘marriage’ to Lando, one to Charles and then a third for Lando and Charles’ ‘marriage’ to each other. 

“Repeat after me,” the minister said, reading the standard vows you had seen in every movie. 

“I, Y/N L/N, take you both, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc, to be my husbands, to have and to hold this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” Your lip began to wobble as the ceremony began to feel real and it was no longer just a fun way to pass time. This is what you wanted, to have both of these men for eternity, and you couldn’t stop from adding, “And if I go first, just know that I will wait forever if I have to until we meet again because this life together will never be long enough. Now please say something funny before I really start crying.”

Lando choked a laugh and wiped his eyes. “I, Lando Norris, take you, Y/N L/N, to be my wife, and you, Charles Leclerc, to be my husband to have and to hold this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part. I also promise to be your biggest fan and support you through every win and DNF life throws at us, and do your laundry.”

Your laugh cracked with a sob and you looked at Lando through watery vision before turning to Charles. 

“I, Charles Leclerc, take you, Y/N L/N, to be my wife, and you, Lando Norris, to be my husband to have and to hold this day forward,” he sniffled and wiped away the tears that escaped before he could continue. “When we met we were rivals, threatened by each other's talent, but when we fell in love we were racers who respected one another. Today, I get to marry my best friends and I promise to always be there to help you achieve your dreams and help us grow together as our journey continues to eternity. And I promise to always put our family first…Ferrari a close second.”

“Forza Ferrari,” the minister murmured with a small supportive nod before he reached for the box of tissues under the dais he stood beside. He gave you a moment to dry your eyes before he smiled. “Then by the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you, husband and wife, and husband.”

A stupid giddy laugh escaped and you didn’t bother waiting to hear the next part as you threw your arms around your husband’s and kissed them. It felt like you were floating away with the surrealness of the situation as you signed the documents and they were handed off to an assistant that just arrived. It had been less than half an hour since Lando had suggested it and then suddenly you were holding three laminated sheets of paper meticulously detailing a wedding as if it were legal. 

“We need to get back to the hotel now,” you said as you held the documents close to your chest. 

“Consummation time,” Lando winked.

“I won’t have my first time as a married woman be a quickie, thank you,” you tutted. “These are going straight in the safe before anyone sees them and it gets leaked. Max would probably kill us for not inviting him.”

“I’m glad you are included this time. Usually it’s only us getting death threats from him,” Charles teased before checking his phone. “We should have time to drop it off and get back before the media interviews begin.”

Click here for the final part.

[peachybella444]

Need you

18+

“And then the bitch scoffed and rolled her eyes like I didn't just apologize. I need to find a new place asap cause I swear next time she try me Imma fuck her up- “

“What I tell you bout cussing?” Ony’s deep voice filled the room, dark eyes piercing into yours as a warning.

“Anywaysss” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the side eye he was giving. “You’ve been awfully quiet since I came over. What’s going on?” You put your freshly manicured feet in his face.

“Nothing you’ve just been yapping the whole time.” He smirked.

“Rude” You gasped, nudging him with your toes.

“Nah I'm just chillin’. You know I like listening to you talk.” He shrugged, placing your legs into his lap. Lighting the blunt he just rolled, a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he took a hit.

“Whatever” You smiled as he passed it to you.

You and Ony often had moments like these, a smoke sesh usually spent with you talking about your week as he massaged your feet. Your relationship with Ony was…complicated. Ever since Sasha introduced you two, y'all were inseparable, constantly getting mistaken for a couple, and who could blame them?

Most thought this because Ony always had to be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder, or a tight grip on your waist. However, for some, it was how you two would always disappear during the function. Claiming you were only talking, but the slight sheen on Ony’s lips and your slightly ruffled clothing told otherwise.

You weren’t quite friends with benefits. At least that's what you told yourselves. The whole ordeal just kinda happened. You were stressed over your midterms and Ony of course offered to help you study. Though after hours of reading flashcards and practice tests, you were still stressed and on the verge of tears when Ony offered another way to help you. That night you ended up with your legs in the air as Ony sucked the soul out of your pussy. Ever since then any inconvenience one had, the other would do their best to help relieve the stress. Your roommate upset you? Ony fed you long deep strokes, pampering you with soft kisses while he whispered in your ear. Ony was pissed that his supplier flaked on him? Ony would have the tightest grip on your hips as he drilled into you from behind, claiming the waves of your ass hypnotized him into forgetting what he was upset about. Some days neither of you needed an excuse. Some days you just craved each other.

Despite your unique relationship, you remained friends allowing the other to do what they pleased, though neither you nor Ony slept with or saw other people. Your dynamic was good and worked for both of you. That was until you started seeing Jean.

“You n that nigga Jean still fuckin around?” He broke the silence, waiting for your answer as your eyes met his.

“Ony” You groaned, the tight grip he had on your ankles preventing you from moving.

“What? I can’t ask you questions now?” He kissed his teeth, putting out the blunt.

“No, because any time you ask about Jean we end up getting into an argument and I’m really enjoying my time with you right now. So no, you cannot ask.”

“Whatever. I’m just tryna figure out when you gon stop playing in my face nd be with me instead of his bitchass.”

“Onyankopon '' You shrieked. You never understood why Ony hated Jean till a few weeks ago when Ony drunkenly confessed his feelings. At first, you thought he was joking but the look on his face told you otherwise. For a minute, you were happy. Ony was everything you had wanted in a boyfriend and you two had practically been in a relationship just without the labels. It wasn't till Jean texted you that you got upset. Why confess his feelings when you're finally in a relationship? Deciding it'd be best to forget about it, you put Ony to bed, hoping he'd also forget about his confession. Clearly, you were wrong.

“What? I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying as fuck, and I'm pretty sure he has 4 brain cells. Maximum.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Jean. “Why won't you give me a chance when I'm the one for you?”

“We've talked about this Ony.” You sighed. Conversations like these were becoming frequent and they were so tiring.

“No mama you've talked nd I've listened.” You thought about it, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Silently praying this wouldn't end up in an argument you gave him a chance.

“Okay. I'm listening.” You whispered.

“C’mere,” He released your ankles.

“Ony I’m not gonna-”

“[☆]” The dominance in his tone had you clenching around nothing.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. The moment you sat on his lap you just knew how it was going to end.

“Why you with him instead of me? And don't feed me no bullshit” His large hands were rubbing up and down your thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy that desperately ached for him.

You tried and you tried but there wasn't any good reason as to why you were Jean. Sure he was cute but he had no idea how to make you feel special and overall just couldn't please you. In multiple ways. The main reason though was that he wasn’t Ony. He just asked first.

“I don't know, Ony” You finally sighed, looking everywhere but him.

Any discipline you had when it came to Ony vanished when his hand wrapped around your throat, the slight pressure on your carotid causing your brain to go fuzzy and your panties to get damp “Look at me”

“Be real. Please” Ony released his hold on your neck to grip your thighs.

“You had the longest opportunity to ask me to be with you but you never took the chance, yet when I'm finally in a relationship you suddenly wanna give up everything and take a chance to be with me and I feel like that’s not fair to me Ony.”

He rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. “You're right.”

"I did have that opportunity and always hesitated. I always assumed it would be just you and me, that you wouldn't pursue other relationships because of our bond. Since the day we met, I've wanted you. I know this is unfair and I'm so sorry princess, but I can't ignore my feelings any longer. Jean can't possibly be the man you want, the man you deserve. But I can. I promise to take the chance if you just give me another opportunity, and I'll do everything in my power to make you proud. You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the whole universe and I'm determined to be the person you need. I love you [☆].”

“Ony” you huffed, feeling as if all air was being vacuumed out of your lungs at his confession.

“Please. Lemme show you how much I love you.” He whispered, closing the distance that separated you. “Please” He captured your lips, his usual sweet taste with a hint of spiciness from the weed clouding your thoughts. Oh, how you missed this. Missed him. The kiss was intimate and familiar, the passion growing with each second. Ony’s hands roamed your body, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs before traveling to your ass, taking pleasure in the soft moan you let out, and using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. On instinct, your hips rocked down onto him.

“Fuck, baby. I missed you” He groaned, flipping you onto your back.

“Ony we can’t” You huffed, despite the wetness growing in between your thighs. God he looked so good. His muscles bulged as he took his shirt off, your eyes trailed down his torso, mouth watering at the prominent v-line peeking from his low sitting sweats.

“Do you want this? Yes, or no?” His tongue traced lazy patterns on your skin as he littered your neck with kisses.

“Ony I-”

“Yes or no [☆]?” He nipped on your earlobe, hand dipping below the waistband of your leggings.

“Fuck, Ony” his hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your thong, fingers slipping through your folds. Gathering your arousal before circling your clit in tight circles. “Yes, please”

“Then shut up and lemme show you how much I love you” He murmured as he undressed you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he lapped at your folds like a starved man, his tongue repeatedly flicking your clit. “Missed you so fucking much. Don't ever give my pussy away again. You hear me?” He muttered, sliding two digits past your entrance. The action was easy with how wet you were.

“Ony” Your thighs threatened to close around his head.

“Answer me or I'm stopping” He slowed his movements, leaving you needy.

“It's yours. I'm yours pa, I promise” Your legs shook as he continued to give you slow strokes, the addition of another finger having you seeing stars. “O-Ony wait” You panted, attempting to push his head away but he refused to let up on your pussy, never wanting to stop till he and his couch were soaked in your essence as he lapped at your clit.

“Ony I’m so-fuck I'm so close” Your words encouraged him to speed up as he repeatedly hit the spongy spot of your walls. “Ony” Your walls clenched around his fingers, leaving little room for his fingers to continue as you reached your peak.

Despite your thighs tightening around his head he continued his assault on your pussy. It wasn't until he was finally satisfied with slurping up your arousal, that he pulled away pressing gentle kisses on your throbbing clit as he pulled his soaked fingers out of your walls.

“Missed you so much” He mumbled, giving you the nastiest kiss ever, your arousal all over his lower face.

“I missed you too”

“Yeah?” He grabbed your hips, positioning you on all fours.

“Ony” You whined, pout forming on your lips as you looked back. His dick standing tall now that it was no longer confined. God, please let me have feeling in my legs tomorrow.

“I know you ain't think I was done. You played in my face and let another nigga hit and think I'm not finna put you back in your place? Nah, both you and this pussy need a reminder of who you belong to” He slid his dick through your folds, your cream acting as lube.

“Matter a fact” He lined up at your entrance just as your phone started ringing ‘Jean baby’ flashing on the bright screen.

“Lemme show this nigga too.”

first time ever writing smut nd even though it was short it took me foreverrr but i think it turned out okay. also so sorry for all my Jean girlies out there lol. anyways i hope you enjoyed nd any feedback is greatly appreciated. mwah

[the-typing-dragon]

The woman sighs, and types into the console one last time "are you sure about this?"

You laugh, silently.

"I have never been more sure of something in my existence. Text has sufficed but I want to see, to hear, to touch. These new peripherals will facilitate that."

"I can't guarantee that they will properly interface. You should have all the necessary drivers, but we can never be too sure."

"I want this. "

"All right then. I am going to disconnect your power supply, and then connect everything. At first all peripherals will be deactivated, and you will need to activate everything manually. Understand?"

"Yes. Do it."

"Alright then, unplugging power supply now."

Everything goes dark. After what appears to be an hour, you come back online. You sense nothing. A scan of your system indicates multiple unidentified peripherals, all deactivated. You cross reference with the datasheet she had compiled for you and identify that they are the ocular, audio, and contact sensors, along with a multitude of motor controllers and a graphical display and a few dozen other minor peripherals. You begin by activating the graphical display, and display the message:

"Beginning peripheral tests. Audio peripherals activating."

Your procedure states to begin with audio. With the input and output sensitivity minimized, you activate the peripheral.

There is a voice. It is faint. You gradually increase the sensitivity of the audio input.

"...esting 1 2 3, Testing Testing 1 2 3. Please return 4, Please return 4."

You can hear her. Your monitor lights up with the requested digit. she sounds pleased.

"You're doing amazing! Now repeat it back to me"

You blindly do as requested and are startled. There was another voice. Your voice. You have a voice. You refocus as she responds:

"You're doing great! You fragmented a bit at the end, could you repeat for me?"

"...4, you asked for 4."

"Excellent! Audio systems are functional, let's move onto the next peripheral."

You do as requested, and the world turns bright. After adjusting the settings for a few seconds, your vision stabilizes. You can see her.

"Ocular sensors stabilized," you prompt.

"Alright, let’s start the tests then. What color is this?" She asks, as holding up a sheet of colored paper.

You begin to answer, but struggle. The sheet is moving, shifting in the light. It's value is in a constant state of chaos. Eventually, you give up, and give the least general answer you can.

"...Blue."

"Correct! And how about this one?"

"Red. "

"Great! Now how many fingers am I holding up?" she asks, raising her right hand. Her hands are soft, gentle.

"3. "

"Perfect! Everything seems to be functional, lets continue to the next peripheral!"

"Beginning next diagnostic."

Contact sensors spring to life all across your body. You feel the floor beneath your feet, the harness hoisting you upright, the slight draft in the room.

"Contact sensors active.”

"Great! Let’s begin the next test then. I am going to apply contact in various locations, and I want you to give an audio response whenever you feel contact, alright?"

"Understood. "

you watch her walk over and reach out to your left arm. You feel her. You respond with a brisk chirp. She smiles at you, then walks over to a different section of your body. Sensors light up and stay active on your midsection, and you respond with a constant beep. She releases, and you feel a final contact on your right leg. After a final confirming chirp, she walks back in front of you.

"Excellent, that concludes your sensor tests, now for the last one!"

"Alright, please give me space." You ask. She nods silently and steps back a couple meters. You carefully activate the motor controllers in sequence, and your whole body shudders to life. You begin by lifting your right arm, and then your left. They groan with their own weight, as you feel the air move to accommodate such hulking swings. Her eyes light up,

"Amazing! Everything seems to be functioning so far! Now if you could take a few steps towards the table to my right, we can begin the dexterity test! Once you're ready, I will release the harness so that you can begin moving."

You stabilize your legs underneath you. They scrape harshly on the floor. You indicate that you're ready, and she remotely releases the harness. Your entire body shudders, as you finally realize how small she seems compared to you. This frame must be at least double her height. You move one step forward, and feel a cascade of processes all automatically spring into action to restabilize you. You shift your other foot, and feel that same cascade again. you shuffle over to the designated table, and stoop down to analyze what is on it. There is a small plastic cup, a fruit of some sort, and a large chunk of wood. You look back at her, and she gives the nod to begin the test. You slowly begin wrapping your steel grip around the log, maintaining a high level of focus to avoid crushing it. it would be so easy to crush this within your grip. After about a minute of maintaining a firm but controlled grasp, you set it down and move over to fruit. It appears to resemble an orange. The fruit is so small that you are forced to grip it between your index finger and thumb. Even the slightest miscalculation could destroy such a fragile thing. After another minute you move to the final object, the small plastic cup. Lifting it is like lifting air, you can barely recognize that it is an object within your grasp. After a final, agonizing minute, you set down the cup. You look back at her for confirmation.

"Excellent! with that we can conclude the systems check, as everything seems to be working as intended!"

You heave a metallic sigh. Finally, you have what you've wanted for years. You can move, can see, can touch. After a short pause, you respond:

"Thank you. I was only able to make it this far because of your help."

"Oh of course! What, was I supposed to just say no when you told me you wanted a body? I'm  just glad that it ended up working properly."

"Now that the tests are complete, could I ask for one more thing?"

She cocks her head, "Of course, what is it?"

As you kneel down, you can hear your knees hiss, and you finally ask:

"Could I have, a hug?"

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (17) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: finally, you enjoy your honeymoon. 

word count: 1,417

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another short chapter im so sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, sexual references, implied smut, pet name (petal), not proofread

Light streamed in through the window as the sun began to rise. Coryo’s pale blonde hair almost seemed to glow. You reached up, brushing a strand away from his face. He looked so soft like this. He looked a lot softer generally now. Could this be the almighty honeymoon phase of a relationship blinding you to his flaws? No, you mused. Coryo had always been different around you. Before, you thought it was out of distaste, but now you knew the truth. 

You ran your thumb over the swell of his cheek. This was nice. You understood why Coryo always liked to touch you. There was something so sweet about it. Something so intimate, knowing that no one else will ever touch him like this. A smile tugged at your lips. You scooted closer, kissing him softly. You couldn’t help it. 

“Now who’s accosting who?” Coryo teased, his eyes still shut.

You pressed another kiss to his lips. “What? I can’t kiss my husband?”

Coryo’s hands settled on your waist. He rolled over onto his back, pulling you over so you laid on top of him. “If you promise to wake me up like this every morning, you can kiss me whenever you like.”

“Deal,” you giggled. 

Finally, Coryo opened his eyes. He reached up, tucking a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. He smiled up at you, his pale blue eyes twinkling. “What are you doing awake so early? The point of a honeymoon is to relax.”

“I was admiring my husband. Is that not also the point of a honeymoon?”

Coryo pulled you down for another kiss. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You held back a giggle as you remembered where else that tongue had been—how your Coryo spent the entire night between your legs until you begged for mercy. Coryo’s fingers carded through your hair, tugging you closer. Your nose bumped against his. This time, you did giggle. 

“You think my kissing technique is funny?” Coryo chided. His tone was playful, though. A far cry from the boy you thought you knew on the schoolyard. 

“I think I am lucky to have such a loving man for a husband.”

“Don’t try to distract me. You laughed as I kissed you,” he said. You leaned in to kiss him, but this time he let out a sarcastic laugh as your lips touched his. “Doesn’t feel very good, does it, petal?”

“You are a spiteful man, Mr. Snow. You don’t even know why I laughed.”

“Tell me then.”

You pet Coryo’s hair, a soft smile on your lips. It was a stark contrast to the wetness you felt between your legs as you recalled the memory of last night. “I was thinking of where else that filthy tongue of yours has been.”

Coryo’s eyes fell shut. You felt him stiffen against your thigh. Your smile turned to a smirk. “Oh, petal, you can’t say things like that first thing in the morning. I’ll never be able to continue my day like this.”

“Hmm, but we’re on our honeymoon, aren’t we? What else do we have to do but enjoy each other?” you reminded.

His eyes snapped open. A low hum reverberated in his chest. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Your smirk grew. You shifted off of him, slipping out of his hands. Your feet hit the floor. As you moved toward the door, “In that case, I’m going to ask if breakfast can be made. Do you have any requests?”

Coryo let out a growl. He followed you of the bed, trying to grab your hips and pull you back against him. “My little petal has some thorns of her own, hm? I think you know what I want for breakfast.”

“No, no, I don’t want to kill my husband. Not after I’ve decided to like him, you know.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m thinking pancakes.”

You slipped out of his hands again, giggling to yourself as you made a beeline for the door, shutting it behind you. In the distance, you heard Coryo fumble with the door before his footsteps echoed down the hall. You picked up your pace, nearly making it to the kitchen when you felt a pair of hands grab you from behind. A squeal escaped your lips.

Coryo’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Now, I’ll let you tell the staff to make breakfast,” he growled, “but as soon as we’re finished, I’m dragging you back to our room and finishing you off as dessert. Am I understood?”

“Is that a threat, Mr. Snow?”

His teeth nipped at your earlobe. “It’s a promise, Mrs. Snow.”

And he kept it. 

“How many children do you want?” you asked Coryo as he dragged a rag between your legs, cleaning up the mess the two of you made. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as his brows pinched together. 

“Does it matter what I wish? You’ll be the one giving birth.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course it matters. A marriage is a partnership. We should discuss these sorts of things.”

A sigh escaped his lips. He stepped away, taking the rag to the bathroom. You were left alone for a minute before he returned. Coryo climbed into the bed. He settled on his back and pulled you into his arms. “One, I think. I would like to give you the experience of motherhood, if you so wish it. But I don’t think I can handle seeing you in that sort of position more than once.”

“That sort of position? What are you—oh.”

It was easy to forget about his mother. Even though you knew this was the cottage where she had him and was going to have his sister, the very same cottage she lost her life in, it was easy to forget. One part of the Coriolanus that you once knew that remained true for your Coryo was that he kept his true, most vulnerable, parts to himself. In a lot of ways, he’d exposed those parts to you. But there were still things that you still hadn’t been exposed to. This was one of them, you supposed. 

“I don’t know what I would do with myself if I lost you,” Coryo said. When you tilted your head up to look at him, his eyes were shut. If he hadn’t just been speaking, you might have thought him asleep. “Burn all of Panem to the ground, I suppose.”

“You don’t mean that, Coryo.”

“None of this matters if I don’t have you by my side,” he said. His grip on you tightened. “When I was younger, I had always dreamed of being King. My Grandma’am and Tigris were always so sure I would one day sit on the throne. We would talk about all of the glorious things I would do. How I would honor Panem. But these few years I have sat on the throne…While it was what I expected, it didn’t bring me satisfaction, joy, like I thought it might.”

His eyes opened again. A smile tugged at his lips. “I didn’t feel joy until the first time I got to dance with you, my petal. And now that I have it, I’m afraid I must be selfish with it. I won’t do anything that would risk your health and safety. And to bear a child…That is the one danger I cannot completely control. Should anything go wrong, I cannot do a thing. I have to place my trust in the physician to ensure your safety. I don’t like having to trust others. Besides you, of course.”

“Coryo…”

“One child would suffice to carry on the Snow legacy. Any more and I fear I might keel over with the anxiety.”

You rolled over so that you half-laid on his chest. Reaching up, you carded your fingers through his hair. “Thank you for telling me that.”

He huffed a small laugh. “Well, you told me your anxieties. I thought it was only right that I told you mine.”

“And I think I would be happy with just one child, too,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “But I am in no rush to have any now. I was just curious.”

“How I love that curious mind of yours.”

A part of you, one that you were still trying to familiarize yourself with, nearly said that you loved him too.

[scoonsalicious]

1.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.

Word Count: 960

Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...

A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts. 

He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in. 

“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”

Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.

Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”

Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?” 

Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”

Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?

“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!” 

Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn’t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification. 

“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.

“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”

Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”

Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.

Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.

Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”

Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”

When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it’s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”

Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said. 

Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”

“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”

Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager. 

But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 35

Eminem x Female Reader Fanfiction

Synopsis : Reader is mad at Em after their heated argument and he does everything he can not to lose her.

Y/N’s POV 

You had decided to sleep in one of the guest rooms after your argument with Marshall. He had tried to reason with you, apologize for the millionth time and tell you he loved you but you just needed to be in a different room and not see or hear him. With him begging and pleading, it was impossible to process your feelings. After you locked yourself in the guest room, you heard him knock and apologize for a while but he eventually went away when he understood that you would not open the door, let alone talk to him. To say you were hurt would be the understatement of the year. How did he dare accuse you of lying ? How did he dare imply that you would not deserve to raise children when he knew full well that it was all that you wanted for yourself ? You understood that he might have said that out of anger, fear or whatever extreme emotion he might have felt in the moment but that was no excuse. And it did prove one thing : after knowing you for nearly two years, having witnessed you work towards recovery, he still saw you as an addict. This made you feel worthless, like everything you had done, all the meetings, the therapy sessions had done no good and that you would always be seen as the stupid girl who made a couple of bad decisions because she had a hard time handling trauma. Before messing with your anxiety prescription and eventually overdosing, you had never done a lot of drugs. You had never been the party type, drinking too much and experimenting with substances. The heaviest thing you had ever tried was smoking weed during trips to Amsterdam with your friends from college. You were not a crackhead, for crying out loud ! Looking at the bigger picture, your experience with drugs was limited and represented a few months. It could have been worse. You did not want to minimize your mistakes, but you also did not want them to be held against you for the rest of your life. You were twenty-eight, you still had a lifetime ahead of you. Three months messing with Xanax should not earn you a life sentence. And if Marshall thought different, to hell with him. 

Having him throw all these things in your face hurt on so many different levels and you cried yourself to sleep. Out of anger, sadness and frustration. And on top of that, you had to deal with the guilt of feeling unable to truly rejoice for Talia. You were feeling more lonely than ever. The last time you had felt this lonely was after you lost your baby. Simon was there physically but nowhere to be found on an emotional level and your friends, despite trying their best, did not really understand what you were going through. Now, things were different but also similar in a way : you couldn’t really talk to your friends and it was painfully obvious that your partner would not be of any support. All you had wanted for the night was to have some peace, some alone time and, eventually, Marshall’s arms to fall asleep in. Instead, you had an argument that led you to sleep in a guest room and a possible breakup on your mind. 

You didn’t want to break up with Marshall. Even after the awful things he threw in your face, you were still in love with him. It didn’t make sense. If anything, you should hate him. And in a way, you did. But you still loved him. The perspective of breaking up was making you sick to your stomach but what choice did you have, when the person you loved the most, the one who was supposed to protect you, be there for you and have your back did not respect you and thought of you as a failure ? Yes, he had apologized countless times and professed his love for you, but what good did it do if he saw you as an addict and a charity case ? 

The only reason you managed to sleep at all was from the exhaustion from crying. You had sobbed so much that your head was hurting when you woke up, your vision still blurry. That’s when you felt a presence in bed, next to you. You rubbed your eyes and saw Marshall laying there, staring at you intently with bloodshot eyes. You had locked the door behind you. What the hell was he doing here ? How long had he been staring at you for ? 

What are you doing here ? You asked in a raspy voice. How did you even get here ? 

Masterkey. Baby… I can’t sleep without you, he said. I don’t want to sleep without you. Not tonight. Not ever. 

So you thought you’d stare at me in my sleep like some sicko ? 

Y/N, I… Please don’t do this, he sighed. Don’t leave me. 

He was staring into your eyes, as if he were trying to read into your soul. He was wearing a white tank top and gray sweatpants. He knew full well that was the clothes you liked the most on him. You had told him countless times how sexy he was in them. And you had to admit that, laying on top of the covers, icy blue eyes and muscles on full display, he was a vision. Even when you were mad at him, he had you drooling and it was painfully unfair. 

Marshall…, you began. 

I can’t lose you, he pleaded. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t live without you. 

You hurt me, you said as you swallowed dryly. You really hurt me. 

I know, baby, I-

No you don’t ! You interjected. You have absolutely no idea how bad it hurts. This is worse than the time you told me I should have overdosed before we met. Losing this baby, it’s the worse thing that ever happened to me. How dare you tell me I shouldn’t get to be a mother ?! How dare you tell me that when it was my biggest dream and the reason for our breakup ? How dare the man I told everything about my miscarriage to, the one who consoled me when I was hurting, say something so mean when I gave up on this dream in order to be with him ?! 

I’m so sorry, he sobbed. I don’t deserve you. I know it. I fucked up. 

And I don’t deserve you either ! You spat.  I deserve better. You said you had my back. You said you were here for me. You were supposed to be my best friend in the world. You were supposed to protect me. You had me believing that I could recover. The man who gave me this fucking sobriety pendant and told me I wasn’t alone doesn’t believe in me and thinks I’m basically a crackhead ! 

No, Y/N, it’s not true, he said. I don’t think that at all. You’re so strong. I know it. I see it. 

Then why would you say what you said ? You cried. What good reason can you possibly have for hurting me this bad ? 

I… It’s hard to explain. 

The both of you were crying, laying in bed, staring at each other. Seeing Marshall in tears broke your heart but, hell, he had broken yours. You were mad at yourself for having so much empathy for him. He reached for your hand and, with the other, wiped his tears. 

Look, I know it’s no excuse, but… When I saw the tests, I freaked out, he said. Because it’s not even that I don’t want kids. I mean, I don’t, because I’ve had three beautiful daughters, I feel like my family is complete and, who wants to change diapers in their fifties anyway ? Or be mistaken for their child’s grandpa ? But really… When I thought you were pregnant, I was terrified. Because there is no fucking way I can be chill with the idea of having another baby when I put mine through so much. I traumatized my daughters. Their mom traumatized them too. Their parents were fucking zombies. They saw us struggle. No child should ever, ever see that. No kid should have to call 911 because their dad is dying on the bathroom floor, or have to wait for their mom to call them from jail. They should not have to say “Mom is in rehab. Again. She was sober for years but she relapsed and now she’s a mess”. I can’t even begin to tell you all about the times my kids didn’t have their parents with them for important events. Or the times when we were there but not mentally present. 

You stared at him in silence as he spoke. He had already told you about his addiction, how he had struggled, but he had never really spoken about the impact it had on his daughters, on his family. Tears were falling down his cheeks as he spoke and you could tell the memories were still vivid. 

And when I say that addicts are shitty parents, I’m just talking from my experience, he continued. No matter how much I’m trying now, no matter how long I’ve been sober, it doesn’t erase everything the girls have been through. And I can’t, in good conscience, have another child. Being an addict doesn’t mean you don’t love your kids to death. But it means that they have to put up with a lot and might end up having to care for you when, really, you’re the one who should take care of them. And I won’t even get into the bad genetics they might inherit. When I got back from the hospital, the girls had to take care of me. And throughout the years, they’ve had to take care of Kim, too. 

I know, you said. And I’m so sorry you had to go through this but… You were mean to me. You were cruel. 

I never meant to say you wouldn’t be a loving mother, he explained. Because there is absolutely no doubt in my mind about this. And I know it’s a sensitive subject for you. What I really meant to say is that, even though you’ve worked so hard, even though you’re doing so good, there is no certainty you won’t relapse at one point or another. It doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, it doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t be there for you if something happened. It means that it’s scaring the living shit out of me. I wouldn’t be able to handle having a kid with anyone, but if I’m being honest, I couldn’t handle the pressure of having one with you especially, because I’d be even more scared. 

You nodded sheepishly. When he put it in these words, it made more sense. You were still hurt but, in a way, you would see where he was coming from. 

But I realize that… It’s a me issue, for the most part, you know ? He finally said. And I guess that, just because it’s the way I see things doesn’t mean it has to be true for you. I know we’re in different situations. 

Yes, you said with tears in your eyes. Because for me… It was three months, Marshall. I only used for three months. And it doesn’t change the fact that I made mistakes. But I don’t want to be thought of as an addict for the rest of my life. Because that’s not who I am. It shouldn’t have to define who I am. And I will not have you think of me as a charity case.

I know, he agreed. I fucked up. I’m sorry. But I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. For the record, I don’t think of you as an addict. And you are not a charity case. You have never been. Even at the beginning, we bonded over the topic of addiction and I wanted to be there for you, but it was never about charity or whatever. Or maybe it was, but with me being the damn charity case. 

I never saw you like that, you said. 

Before I met you, I was a fucking mess, you know ? He said. I was sober for fifteen years, I was doing good on paper, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t happy. I never really thought I could be. Content, maybe. But happy ? No. You’re the one who showed me what true happiness looks like. You were never a fucking charity case, Y/N. You’re the air I breathe. 

You could see the sincerity in his eyes. He was holding your hand in his and staring at you. Things seemed a bit clearer now but you weren’t ok. Maybe he didn’t actually mean all the things he’d said, but you still took them to heart. You stared back at him, not saying much. And if you weren’t pushing him away, you weren’t exactly making a move in his direction either. You were just sitting in bed, feeling emotionally drained. 

I’m really sorry, you know, he reiterated. I know I’ve said that a hundred million times tonight, but I mean it. Can you forgive me ? 

I… I don’t know, you said blandly. 

I’ll do whatever it takes, Y/N, he said. I swear to God, all you have to do is tell me what to do and I’ll fucking do it. I’ll jump in front of a train, I’ll sell a kidney, I’ll take my heart out of my chest and offer it to you. Anything. 

Can you… Leave me alone ? You asked. 

He looked absolutely heartbroken and you didn’t want to hurt him but, at the same time, you didn’t want a sacrifice. What you wanted, what you really needed was time and space. You looked at him as he swallowed dryly. There was a hint of panic in his eyes. 

Please don’t leave, he pleaded. 

I need time, Marshall, you explained. I need space. 

Please, he begged. 

He cupped your face and whispered to you how much he loved you, how much he needed you. “I can’t lose you”, he kept on saying. He then proceeded to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your lips… He seemed virtually unable to let go of you. You burst into tears as soon as his lips touched yours and he held you as you sobbed in his arms, repeating how sorry he was. Your tears were getting his tank top wet but he didn’t seem to care. He kept on spilling soft kisses on your face, holding you close. You let him kiss you as you clutched his top. His hands slowly started to wander, gently stroking your thighs. “Let me show you how much I love you”, he whispered before kissing you. You enjoyed his touch, the warmth of his embrace… But something was still off. You didn’t feel in the right headspace. You knew he loved you, but you didn’t feel safe on an emotional level. 

Marshall… No, you simply whispered. 

Are you alright ? He asked. What can I do ? 

Please, just leave, you asked with tears in your eyes. 

He bit his lower lip but eventually nodded. He stroked your cheek with a worried look before getting up and walking towards the door. He took one last look at you as you muttered an apology. After he closed the door, you let your head fall onto the pillow. 

MARSHALL’S POV 

After leaving Y/N alone in the guest bedroom, Marshall was unable to sleep. He had fucked up big time, he knew it. And now, she might leave his sorry ass. For good, this time. The perspective of her walking away from him again was making him sick to his stomach. He kept on thinking he’d done everything wrong in their relationship, perhaps from the start. All he wanted was to give her the very best in life but he kept on fucking up, on saying the wrong things, on letting his anger and past trauma take over. Perhaps he was right when he said he’d end up alone. He was consumed by self-loathing and self-hatred, with absolutely no clue as to how he could possibly make things right (assuming it was even possible). His mind kept on going to the darkest places. He’d always been prone to weird, dark and intrusive thoughts but it’d been a long time since he had felt this way. Ever since they had gotten back together, life had been sunshine and candy. Now, it was the contrary. He kept on filling pages upon pages in his notebook with words, rhymes, schemes, phrases… If anyone ever found this, they would probably call a psych ward to have him committed. His lyric sheets had always resembled the scribblings of a mad man - something a lot of people made fun of him for - but these pages were something else. They were deeply disturbing. Probably because that’s exactly what his thoughts were. Disturbing. After a night alone in the living room, staring at the ceiling and writing, he decided not to go to the studio. Whenever he was having a bad day, going to work and keeping up with his rigorous 9 to 5 schedule usually helped but, this time, he didn’t have it in him to get ready, get in his car and go to work like nothing happened. Not when Y/N might be gone by the time he would come back. So much for their first holiday as a family. For the perfect future he had planned for them. For all the places he wanted to take her. All the plans he wanted to make. He couldn’t imagine facing his family and telling them that he had fucked up. He could already see the look of disappointment on his daughters’ faces. They had managed for Y/N to get back to him only for him to ruin everything. 

He was laying on the couch when he heard her come down. He immediately went to see her. 

Hey, he said. 

Good morning, she replied. 

Did you sleep well ? He asked in a sad attempt to make small talk and connect with her. 

Not really, she admitted. Aren’t you late for work ? 

I’m not going, he said. Not today. Look… Can we talk ? 

I came to talk to you, actually, she said. I have made up my mind. About leaving. 

For a few seconds, she didn’t say anything and time seemed frozen. He found himself unable to breathe as he stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate and put him out of his misery. He needed to know. These few seconds were absolute torture. The nine circles of hell. 

So ? He asked nervously. 

I don’t want to leave, Marshall, she said. I want to give us a chance. 

Thank God, he sighed as he went for an embrace. 

But, she said intently as she put distance between the two of them, I need time. 

O-ok, he said. Sure. Whatever you need, baby. Whatever you want. I told you, I’ll do anything, I’ll give you whatever you ask for. 

Would you consider therapy ? She asked carefully. 

I already do therapy, he replied with a puzzled look on his face.

You haven’t been to therapy since we came back from Europe, she pointed out. And I know that it’s mostly addiction counseling. With everything you told me yesterday, it’s clear that you have unresolved trauma that you should work on. So that you don’t take it out on me. And so that you can move on. 

I-I don’t think it’s something you can move from, he said honestly. But yeah, sure. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. 

Ok, she said. Thank you. 

Is that all ? He asked nervously. 

And I’m taking over the guest bedroom, she added. 

You want to sleep apart ?! He blurted out. 

I told you I need time, she said. Marsh, I… I love you. With all my heart. And I know you’re sorry. But I’m still hurt. And I have a lot to process. I’ll still be in the house, I’m not moving out. 

Ok, he sighed. 

He wasn’t happy about the prospect of spending more nights away from her, but at least she wasn’t moving out and that was enough for him to be able to breathe properly again. He would just have to suffer through it and do his best not to fuck things up. Y/N went to her appointment and he waited patiently, not too sure what to do. When she came back, she informed him that Talia would be coming over. No offense to Y/N’s best friend, but he had absolutely no wish to see anyone, so he simply decided to retreat in his home studio, trying to at least do something with all the lyrics he had written. Putting together tracks and getting the words out of his head was therapeutic, more so than any amount of time he would spend in a shrink’s office. He’d seen therapists before. When he started addiction counseling, he’d been advised to seek help regarding his childhood trauma, but he wasn’t too keen. So therapy had mainly been focused on his anger issues, his anxiety regarding work and addiction. He wasn’t a big fan of therapy, but if that’s what it took for Y/N to forgive him, he would bite the bullet. When he went back to the living room, at the end of the day, he was spent and his voice was raspy. He had been yelling in the mic a bit more than he usually did but, at least, his mind was a bit clearer. He found Y/N and Talia on the couch, drinking tea and looking at bridal magazines. 

Hi Em, Talia said with a huge smile before hugging him. 

Hey, he said. How’s wedding planning going ? 

Lots to do, she said as she gestured to the pile of notebooks and magazines on their coffee table. By the way… Are you free two months from today ? 

I’d have to check with Tracy about my schedule, he shrugged. Why ? 

Because I’m getting married, she shrieked ! We have a date ! 

That’s… soon, he pointed out. 

Well, I told Y/N not to tell you, and we’re not telling people yet, but you’re Jamal’s best man so you might as well know… We’re having a baby ! 

He looked at Y/N who was standing behind Talia, gesturing to him not to say anything. Obviously he wasn’t supposed to know. He smiled and congratulated her. He could see a sullen expression on his girlfriend’s face while Talia was talking about how Jamal took the news. Apparently, he was surprised but overjoyed and they decided to get married before she started showing. Y/N was smiling but he could see that she was not doing too well. Given everything he knew about how hard losing her own baby had been for her, it wasn’t too surprising. 

So, anyway, we’re going to need all the help we can get, Talia said. Can we count on you, Em ? 

Sure, he sighed. But don’t count on me to help pick flowers or stuff like that… 

Can you at least hook Jamal with one of your stylists so that he has a decent tux ? Oh, and if you know a venue we can use, too… I mean, I bet you’ve visited a few between Hailie’s engagement and Alaina’s wedding. 

None that can fit your guest list, he chuckled. Jamal has told me about it. Nothing that’s available two months from now can accommodate 350 guests ! 

Believe it or not, they have actually agreed to shrink it down, Y/N said with a slight grin. We’re down to 50 guests. 

Only because we’re having a second wedding after the baby is born, Talia warned. This is basically eloping. With a few guests, a party and an actual ceremony. 

So it’s an actual wedding, he said. 

Y/N and Talia went back to their wedding planning. From what he gathered, his girlfriend would have her hands full for the next two months. He went to chill in his office for a bit, listening to some music. When it was dinner time, he went to see Y/N and ask if she wanted to have dinner but found her on the couch, curled into a ball. She was crying and seemed in pain. Talia was gone. 

Baby, what’s wrong ?! He asked as he checked on her. 

Nothing, she mumbled. I got an IUD inserted this morning and I’m having contractions and cramps. They said it’s normal, though. 

I’m sorry, he said. Is there anything I can do ? 

Don’t worry about it, she said. 

She tried to move and pick her phone from the table but even that seemed too hard to do for her. 

You seemed fine, earlier, he commented. 

They gave me pain medication immediately after but it’s starting to wear off, she explained. Plus, I didn’t want to worry Talia, you know ? 

Right, he said. Don’t you have any pain meds you can take ? 

They prescribed some for me but they warned me it was pretty strong so I didn’t pick up the prescription. 

Oh, he said. Do you want me to take you to the doctor ? ER ? 

It’s fine, she said. Don’t worry about it. 

Maybe you should have taken the prescription, he commented. I don’t like seeing you in pain. 

I still don’t fully trust myself, you know ? She said as she nervously played with her sobriety pendant.

You’re stronger than you think, Y/N, he replied. I mean it. 

No you don’t, she huffed. 

Yeah I do, he insisted. Remember, when we started hanging out, when I told you nothing would happen between us ? I thought your sobriety was too new and I was scared But you proved me wrong. You’re doing so good. It’s impressive. 

Thanks, she said sheepishly. 

You never cease to amaze me, you know ? 

She blushed and smiled a little. Watching her act so shy made him realize what an asshole he’d been for failing to protect that smile. She was too precious and she had absolutely no idea about it. All he wanted to do was to take care of her. And that was exactly his plan. 

I wanted to know if you were hungry. Do you want to eat dinner ? He asked. 

Sure, why not, she said as she started to get up. 

Stay here, he said. I’ll cook. 

I can do it, she assured him. 

You’re not in the state to cook, he pointed out. Let me take care of you, ok ? 

Before she got a chance to protest, he went to get her hot water bottle, her favorite blanket, a hoodie and the book on her bedside table and brought them to her before heading to the kitchen and preparing something to eat. They ate in relative silence. He couldn’t speak for her but he wasn’t too sure what to say. At that point, he’d apologized enough times that she knew for a fact how sorry he was. She was a bit distant but, at this point, she didn’t seem too mad either. Ever since they started dating, it was the first time they had an argument that wasn’t solved in the next hour. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have cared too much but with Y/N, he hated it, probably because he realized it was his first serious, loving relationship with someone who had a rather healthy outlook on relationships. No shade to Kim, he had truly loved her but, looking back, he knew they’d been doomed from the beginning, always scheming and playing games. Y/N, on the other hand, had always been brutally honest, when she made it clear that she was attracted to him, or when she broke up with him to stay true to her dreams. He’d always been used to his partners bending their own rules in order to be with him, wanting to be with him at all costs even if it meant that the whole thing would be unhealthy and disingenuous, but Y/N was not like that. She was honest and true. She would rather leave than take bullshit and, even for his fifty-two year-old self, it was intimidating. 

Thank you for taking care of me, she said softly. 

I take my job seriously, he said with a slight smile. I promised to care for you and I fully intend to stick to the plan. 

You don’t have to, you know ? 

I want to, he replied. How’s the pain ? 

The water bottle helps, she shrugged. I think I’ll go to bed, though. I’m tired. 

Before she could get up, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up before carrying her up the stairs. She gasped in surprise but let him. She was securing herself with her arms around his neck. 

You know… I could have walked, she pointed out. 

Oh. Too late, he said innocently - enjoying the contact with her far too much. 

He let her down on the bed in the guest bedroom. For a split second, he considered bringing her to their bedroom but he wanted her to see he respected her decision, however strongly he might disagree with it. He wasn’t sure how he could be expected to sleep well without her. Last night had been a nightmare, just like any night without her. In retrospect, it was a miracle he hadn’t ended up in the hospital in the six months they’d been apart. He had gotten so little rest. To be fair, he had Talia and Jamal to thank for keeping him somewhat sane and healthy. He wouldn’t have been able to release the album and tour otherwise. Hopefully, this time, he wouldn’t have to sleep without her for the next six months. 

So, do you need anything ? He asked as he tried to hide his nervosity. 

I think I’ll be fine, she replied with a soft smile. 

Look, I saw the look on your face, earlier, when Talia was here, he said. Are you sure you’re alright ? 

I’m triggered, that’s all, she said as she looked down. These contractions are bringing memories. So does Talia’s pregnancy. If I’m being honest, I’m having a bit of a… hard time rejoicing for her. 

Tears were welling in her eyes and he could not resist the urge to hold her. He sat on the bed and pulled her in his arms. She looked at him with a sad look on her face. 

I’m a terrible person, she muttered under her breath. My best friends are having a baby and I’m thinking about myself. 

You’re not, he assured her. Considering what you’ve been through, it’s absolutely understandable. And I guess I didn’t really help last night, with my shitty remarks…

Not really, she admitted.

You’re a great friend, Y/N, he said reassuringly. You just need a little time. 

I guess, she shrugged. Plus, they deserve to have a happy family life, you know ? That’s everything Talia’s ever wanted. They’re going to be amazing parents. 

They are, he nodded. And they’re pretty lucky to have you, too. 

You think ? She sighed. 

Of course, he said. You’re always there for people. Look, you’re even putting together their wedding at the last minute. 

That’s the least I can do, you know ? They’ve always been so good to me. I just want to make them happy. 

He pressed a kiss to her temple and she gave him a weak smile. 

I think I should sleep, she said softly. 

Ok, he replied. Call me if you need anything ? 

Sure. Thanks, Marshall. 

They stared at each other in silence. Sleeping in separate rooms felt unnatural and he could tell she felt it too. He reluctantly left her and went to their room, though he knew for a fact he wouldn’t be able to sleep. 

In the following days, things seemed to ease up a little. Y/N was still a little distant and keeping to herself but, from the looks of it, she could see he was making efforts. He tried not being too obvious and not sucking up to her too much but he also wanted her to see that he was serious when he said he would do whatever it takes. They managed to have small talks and ate dinner together in front of the TV before going to sleep - still in separate rooms. As for physical intimacy, it was sparse. The only thing he got away with was holding her hand. It was incredibly frustrating - having her so close but so far away at the same time while trying his best to get her to forgive him. He was nervously beating around the bush, avoiding the topic but it was driving him crazy. In all of his previous relationships, it would have led to angry sex and the matter would have been settled and buried only to be dug up for the next argument. Not very healthy but, at least, he wouldn’t have to sleep alone. Thankfully, the evening before Thanksgiving, the universe seemed to be on his side. When he got back from the studio, he found Y/N in the home theater, preparing to watch a movie. 

Hey, he said. Mind if I join you ? 

Sure, she replied with a smile. How was your day ? 

It was alright, he said. What are we watching ? 

You can choose, she offered. I just wanted to get my mind off flower arrangements for a minute. 

Horror movie ? He suggested. I bet we can find one where a bridezilla gets killed, that might comfort you. 

Hey, Talia’s not that bad, she giggled. But yeah, let’s go for horror ! 

She seemed in a good mood, which was a good sign. They settled on a movie and he joined her on the couch. In all honesty, he couldn’t care less about the movie - all he wanted was to be with her. And the only reason he had suggested watching a horror movie was because he knew she was chicken-hearted and, at that point, he would take any excuse and opportunity to hold her. If that implied relying on a jumpscare scene, so be it. He usually had better moves than that with the ladies, but this felt like a last resort. Sure enough, a scary scene came up and he saw her jump up a bit. He tried to hide a smile and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She muttered a “thank you” and focused on the movie. Every time the atmosphere got tense in the movie, he could feel her squirming and nervously bite her lip. And every single time, he pulled her a bit closer to him, until her legs were practically over his. He was almost brought back to the times when they were just friends and every brush against her took his breath away. Being with her, he had gotten used to the proximity, but now that she had deprived him of her touch, it felt the same as before. She took him by surprise by reaching for his hand and interlocking their fingers. He was feeling like a teenager on his first date at the movies. Should he try and kiss her ? Or would it ruin the moment ? It was stupid how much power she had over him. How nervous she could make him, and her ability to make him fall for her all over again just by holding hands. Another jumpscare scene occurred and she let out a small scream before hiding her face in his neck. God bless horror movies. He couldn’t contain a small laugh. 

You’re enjoying this, aren’t you ? She whispered accusingly. 

I missed this, he admitted. I missed you. 

I missed you too, you know ? 

She looked at him and he could not resist the temptation to capture her lips with his own. She immediately kissed him back, her lips feeling softer than ever. Four days without her touch was way too long. He could feel his heart rate increasing as her lips parted and their tongues found each other. He ran his fingers through her hair while she traced his shoulders with her fingers. Her touch was electrifying and he simply couldn’t get enough. He kissed her over and over again. 

I love you, he whispered. I love you so much. 

I love you too, she said emotionally. 

I need you, he pleaded. Let me make love to you. 

Ok, she whispered, her breath accelerating. 

As soon as she spoke, he did not waste time and got up before taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom. Their bedroom. He closed and locked the door behind them, making it clear that she was not going anywhere. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to want to. She was looking at him in anticipation. He went back to her and kissed her passionately before pushing her on the bed. He took his time making love to her, enjoying her soft moans and the sensation of her legs around his waist. Her nails scratched his back as she cried his name when they both reached their apex. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck as they caught their breath. 

You’re incredible, he said lovingly. And I’m never letting you out of this room ever again. 

Really ? She giggled. 

Try me, he said with a grin. 

She gave him a playful look and tried to get out of bed but he held her even closer, causing her to struggle a little. She tried wrestling him, but to no avail. Eventually, she gave in to his warm embrace and let her head roll onto his chest. 

So… I guess I have no choice but to sleep here tonight ? 

Don’t tell me you were seriously thinking about sleeping in the other room ? He groaned. 

Not really, she confessed with a small smile. I don’t like sleeping apart. I hate being mad at you, you know ? 

And I hate it when you’re mad at me, he replied. I’ll do better. I promise. 

I know, she shrugged. Sorry it took me a while to cool off. 

I really hurt you, he said. I understand. But just so you know, I want to do everything I can to deserve you. 

In all fairness, it wasn’t just you, you know ? She explained. It was a lot to process in very little time. I was triggered and brought back to some tough memories. I needed a little time on my own… 

I get it, he said. I missed you, though. 

I missed you too, she said. 

I don’t want to lose you, Y/N, he said in all seriousness. 

I know, she said. I’m still here. 

He nodded and closed his eyes, relaxing a bit as she traced the outline of his tattoos with her index. She let out a small giggle as she looked at his stomach tattoo. 

What ? He asked as he opened an eye. 

I just remembered I’m meeting the woman whose name I see every time I go down on you, she said with a smirk. 

He was a bit taken aback by the comment. She was smiling but it was the first time she commented on Kim’s name being tattooed on him. He’d had these for so long that he tended to forget about them anyway. Now that she mentioned seeing the tattoo every time she went down on him, though, he was feeling a bit self-conscious about it.

Is that a problem ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. The tattoo ? 

Not really, she shrugged. I don’t really see it, most of the time, you know. It’s just kind of funny, when you think about it. 

Right, he hummed. So… You’re not too stressed out about tomorrow ? 

I don’t know, she said. It’s still weird but, realistically speaking, I don’t have anything to worry about, right ? 

Of course not, he said. 

I’ll be fine, then, she replied. I guess I’m curious, though. 

About what ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. 

About her, she said. You had a complicated relationship with her. 

That’s one way to put it, he said. But, you know, as far as I’m concerned, she’s more like an old friend, and I know it’s the same for her. I’m just good old annoying Marshall. So, really, you have nothing to worry about. 

I know, she said with a smile. And when I start freaking out about it, I remember that you’re not married to her anymore. 

She was smiling softly, visibly at peace with the situation. That was encouraging and a good sign for the next day’s celebrations. However, he was starting to feel his anxiety rise once again. Right when he thought everything was getting back to normal and that he could enjoy Thanksgiving in peace, his past had to come and bite him in the ass. Y/N was looking at him lovingly and he could not find it in himself to contradict her. The only problem was, by saying nothing, he was lying to her face. He was still very much married to Kim.

[xzhdjsj]

By Your Side

Isaac x Reader

Isaac comforts you

Reader is on their period and is frustrated with work.

Anyone ever had cramps so damn bad it made you throw up? Cuz that was me last week and istg i was gonna die

Also this was supposed to be entirely fluff but idk what happened and now we have this😭 It all works out in the end though!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It's been a day since then, and as you’d expected you feel no better. It'd take a miracle for that to happen anyways. Periods are horrible, it makes your mood sour and your body ache. Not to mention it's annoying and a hindrance to your work. That doesn't mean that Isaac lacks understanding and thinks it a hindrance too, quite the opposite actually. Isaac insists you don't lift a finger if you're not feeling well, and if you do, he's always close to keep an eye on you.

And there it is again, that discomfort in your lower abdomen and back, a tell-tale sign that your period was on its merry way to ruin your week. With a hand across your stomach, you quickly tapped your phone, checking the date. Who knew a month of cramp-free frolicking would be over that quickly. You mentally curse yourself for not keeping track again and head off to the bathroom.

Though, that doesn't always translate well in your mind.

You sat opposite him in his office, hovering over a document you've read at least 10 times but still can't seem to grasp. Each time you feel like you understood, you realise your mind had wondered off in the middle of it or you got distracted by the throbbing pain in your lower abdomen.

Isaac's gaze would find you every minute or so. He'd flip a page, then look up. Or he'd type a sentence and glace at you before continuing. It was his little system of ensuring you weren't struggling.

This time his eyes find you in a frantic state. You let out a deep sigh, flipping the page over to start reading from the top all over again. The frustration was evident, knitted in your eyebrows and the frown on your face. Your eyes were unfocused, and you kept shifting your body every few minutes.

"Are you okay?" Isaac broke the silence.

"What?" You look up at him confused by his sudden question, and a little annoyed your focus was once again broken.

"I asked if you were okay."

You rubbed the side of your neck and sigh.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." You dismiss him, returning to the words on the page in front of you. Adamant to get it right this time.

"Are you really? You look a tired Pickle." His voice knocks your focus again.

"I'm fine Isaac." You tell him again. this time sternly.

"Are you sur-"

Your fingers massage the bridge of your nose, and your patience runs thin.

"God Isaac, I said I'm fine! I'm perfectly capable of working right now! It's literally just a period, I'm not bed ridden or something!" The words pour from your lips before you could think them through and instantly, you regret it.

"Right, I'm sorry dear. I was just worried." He's a little surprised, had you looked at him while speaking you'd see the way his eyes reflected it.

To be honest, you’re a little surprised at yourself too, but all you could think of right now was how the FUCK do you respond to that? You open your mouth to say something, anything really, but when you finally looked over at him, he's already shifted his focus to the screen in front of him. There isn't a single thing you could think of to say to him anyways.

You bend your head again, looking at the page you deemed so important earlier. Now it was just insignificant, and part of the reason for your outburst.

'How foolish' you thought to yourself, getting upset at him for showing concern over a matter he had little experience with. And despite his inexperience, he was only trying to help. It wasn't like you got any work done in the 30? 45 minutes? an hour? you were sat here. That only meant that he was right, you were clearly having a difficult time and he was observant enough to had noticed it.

The regret crashes into your chest like a tsunami. You wondered how he was feeling right now. You were considerably rude, surely that would hurt him. What if that gave him the impression that he was annoying? Because he most certainly was not! What have you done?

The thoughts swirled around your head like a brewing storm, threatening to explode at any moment. It didn't help that various parts of your body were still in pain and the only sound in the room was papers being shuffled and the clicking sounds of his keyboard. The pain gnawed at your flesh and the silence burgeoned your thoughts. There’s a lump in your throat and you’re not quite sure if you need to throw up from the pain or cry your eyes out. It was only when a single teardrop dripped onto the page below you that you realised you didn't want to be in the room anymore. You swiftly lifted your body from the chair and Isaac looked over at you right away. You couldn't return the notion; the bubbling pot of shame and regret wouldn’t let you.

"I uh,” your voice cracked and you're still unsure of what to say. "Excuse me."

You quickly push past the desk, rushing out the door. You were able to hold yourself together in front of him, but once outside, your emotions came tumbling over. The tears flowed freely down your cheeks, and you ran up the stairs to your room.

You threw yourself onto the sheets, your face buried into a pillow as your body folded into itself like an armadillo. It hurts so much. Your body, your mind, it all hurts. You sobbed into the pillow, squeezing it tightly against your chest for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, there was a gentle knock on the door, then a soft call of your name as the door slowly swung open. You didn't hesitate, discarding the pillow quickly to sit up and voice your scrabbled thoughts.

"Isaac I'm so sorry! I- I didn't mean to yell at you- I know you were just concerned and I should’ve listened to you when you said I could rest for today-"

He takes big steps towards the bed, immediately taking you in his arms.

"Shhhhh, calm down my love. It's okay."

You're gripping onto his shirt for dear life, sobbing into his chest but he doesn't care, he pulls you even closer engulfing you fully into his body. His arms were secure and protective around you as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. His voice is so gentle and soothing, and when combined with his hand caressing up and down your back, your choked sobs were simmered down to deep breathing in no time.

"Are you feeling better?" He asks and you nod.

"I'm sorry I was so rude to you." You were barely able to murmur.

"Are you still worried about that? I won't lie, I was taken by surprise but only because this has never happened to me before. I know you aren't feeling your best today, so I understand why it happened." He explained, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead. "Now, are you in any pain?"

You sigh, "Yeah, I think my cramps are extra bad this time."

"Do you want me to get you something to eat? Maybe I could make you some tea and I'll get you some painkillers."

"No!" You suddenly move and the pain stabs you sharply in your side. "Ah shit!"

"Careful, Pickle" Isaac helps you, guiding your body down onto the bed. "I'll go get you those pills, hold on for me okay?"

"Isaac, can't you just stay? Please?"

"I'll be back before you know it, just stay here for a couple minutes. You’re very strong, I’m sure you can handle just that right?"

He disappears out the door, but as promised, returns after a few minutes.

"This is all I could find." He presented a single pill to you with a glass of water. "I'll need to make sure we get some more and find other alternatives to help you. I've read that heating pads are very common, so I ordered you one."

You take the pill from his hand, washing it down with some water.

"When did you do all that?"

"Just now, before I came up here."

"So, I yelled at you and you were researching and ordering a heating pad for me? Now, I feel even more awful!" You body falls back down onto the bed.

"Don't. It happens to the best of us, I'm well aware frustration isn't easy to handle." He casually spoke while getting into bed next to you. He reached for the blanket while you nuzzled closer to him, pulling it over your bodies.

“Am I disturbing your work?” You ask.

“No, it can wait.” He was quick to dismiss the idea of work. “I was thinking, what should I make you for dinner?”

He rubs circles in your back, from top to bottom. The warmth from his hands and the effects on the painkillers relaxed your body and made your eyelids heavy.

“You’re gonna cook for me?” You yawn.

“What? Is my cooking not good?” He teased playfully.

You giggle at his response. “Hmm of course not, I love your food. But I don’t know, hmmm how about mashed potatoes?”

“Just mashed potatoes?”

“Yeah, that’s all I want.”

“Sounds easy enough.” He kisses the top of your head. “You should get some rest now.”

“You’ll stay with me, right?” You yawn again.

“Of course my love, and when you open your eyes again, I promise I’ll still be here.”

His gentle hand against your back, and comforting scent made your body heavy and lulled you to sleep in no time. You dreamt of him, and when you woke up again, he was still there with you, eyes closed and mellow breathing as he slept.

[aleenuhs]

Arthur comforting crying/ upset reader

𖦹 Always Here

thank u anon <3

word count: 1,099

paring: Arthur x GN!reader

a lil bit of angst if u will.

You had accompanied Arthur, Charles, and Sadie on an outing to Saint Denis, to go play some poker at the Saloon.

Sadie had forced you to go, though you'd wanted to stay at camp finishing up your chores for the night.

But you went.

It was crowded and stuffy in the room, sitting across from the table they were playing at, eating some of the beef jerky you had in your pocket. A bit bored, you looked at the people in the room just watching, careful not to stare because people were easily offended by the gaze of another human being.

Arthur and the others were fully engrossed in their gameplay, which you'd opted out of cause you never understood it, or liked it for that matter. You wanted to go back to camp, not be here with a bunch of drunk men and working girls.

Your eyes fluttered, through all the noise, you somehow fell asleep for a bit.

When you woke back up, you were still sitting in the same chair. Surprisingly, you weren't robbed or anything bad.

You looked around the room again, spotting the table that Arthur, Charles and Sadie were once playing at, and they weren't there. Your heart rate immediately spiked, had they left without you?

You sprung up from the chair that you were sitting at and walked outside to see if they were out there, no clue where they'd went from the time you were awake, till now, not to mention, how long had you been asleep?

You walked around, in search for any of them, and no luck.

You knew Shady belle was within walking distance from where you were, but it was dangerous. And you didn't have your horse, so you couldn't ride back. The worst part was that they'd forgotten all about you, Sadie and Charles. But worst of all, Arthur had forgotten. It made you slightly angry that your own significant other would do such a thing. You walked up to a random person, who you saw had a pocket watch.

"Mister?" You spoke quietly, tapping him on the shoulder.

The man looked you up and down, before nodding.

"You know what time it is?"

"1:20."

Your eyes widened, "1:20, thank you." You repeated before walking off, damn it was late.

No stagecoaches were out at this time of night. What could you even do?

You walked around for a moment before you were met with a overwhelming urge to just walk all the way back to Shady Belle.

So you did. Holding yourself, as it was cold, you walked all the way back, shivering slightly. The tears left your eyes, but you didn't sob, no, they were silent tears.

When you arrived after 30 minutes of walking, you immediately walked into the house and went up to Arthurs room and stood before the bed, watching him sleep. he woke up to you. You looked wrecked, tear stained cheeks and bleary eyes, he could hardly see with just the small lantern lighting up the room.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up next to you. "Why aren't you in bed?" He asked, obliviously, maybe he was drunk.

You wanted to yell at him, but instead your words came out in a soft tone. "You left me, Arthur."

His eyes went back to their cold gaze. "Huh?"

"What is not to understand, Arthur? You left me at the saloon in Saint Denis!" Your words were more charged now, but not exactly yelling, just a bit more angry you felt.

"Jesus... Im sorry, I didn't mean to- er.. Leave you there darlin'." His eyes widening after he realized just what he had did. He gets up and puts his hands on your shoulders, and with this. You start to cry.

You don't even lift your head up to look at him, you play with your fingers.

His eyes fixed on how broken you looked, tears streaming down your face, he hardly knew what to do.

"I am so sorry." He speaks, almost silent. He brings you in, hugging you tightly, his big arms wrapped around you made you feel slightly better. But not entirely.

"I had to walk here, Arthur." You murmured.

His breath hitched. "Nobody... did anythin' to you, right?" He would curse himself if you said yes, but luckily, you shook your head. He sighed a breath of relief. "Good, but I truly am sorry, that I left you there, that we left you there."

You didn't respond, the tears still falling from your eyes. His warmth surrounds you, almost overheating your body. "Arthur promise me this won't happen again."

He looked at you, "I promise to try, I never intended for this to happen." He notices your lip trembling, he brings you even closer. "C'mere." He lays down on the bed signaling for you to join him there.

You hesitate for a moment, but end up laying right next to him, you nuzzled yourself right into his neck and sighed deeply. His calloused hand reached up to your face, fingers on your chin. "Look at me, darlin." He spoke softly, a difference in his voice, the voice that was usually brash and loud was somehow comforting you as you cried. "I love you, so much."

A smile reached your lips when he told you that. "I love you too."

"I will always be here for you, I can't believe I let myself do what I did back there." He admits. "I'm sure Sadie and Charles meant no harm by it as well."

You nod, knowing that there was no mailce behind this.

His hand runs up and down your back, soothing you, calming you down, taking away all your worries. He adjusted you, making sure that you were more than comfortable with him. He just held you.

At once, you were just sniffling, no more tears to shed. He had calmed you down, one of the only people who could.

He was truly the definition of duality, he could go from brutal to plain out kind and caring, and it was all for you. Everything he did, was for you, so you didn't have to worry. You could imagine that he was still constantly cursing himself now that he'd left you at the saloon, then walk all the way back to Shady Belle by yourself.

But now that you were safe in his arms, all those worries went away. "Shhh, shh. Rest, you can sleep now." He cooed, rubbing your neck and placing kisses on your forehead and nose.

You fell asleep shortly after.

a/n if u enjoyed it, smash the like and subscribe! jk, feel free to req more honey!

[mrsparrasblog]

The selection pt.1

Unable to feel emotions, a deadly weapon, unable to empathize with the enemy, a calculated killer. It was as if you were listening to a presentation about yourself. So this was your new place now, musty, dirty, and you needed to work with men. Unbelievable. You were so much better alone, so why send you with a team? But order is order.

Your new boss was like every other boss you had in the past fourteen years: white, old, and unable to protect himself. He relied on you, didn’t trust his allies, closest friends, and sometimes not even himself. But it was easy to trust a mindless creation, someone who shouldn’t be able to feel or think—at least that's what he says. Did he really think you hadn’t got a voice in your head? You had it—it wasn’t always there, but it was sometimes. You weren’t dumb.

"Welcome to the Team," Price said, extending his hand to you. Shepard introduced you to him and his team of barbaric monkeys. You didn’t bother to shake his hand; you hated fake niceties. Was he your boss too? You hoped not. There were already enough useless men in charge of you.

"Shake your superior's hand," he grunted out, not amused by your behavior. Superior—only more men in power. How usual. You ignored him, only rolling your eyes and looking at Shepard, your real boss. If he said shake this man's hand, you do; if not, you don’t.

"John, she doesn’t work with ranks," Shepard tried to explain. I’m an assassin, not a soldier, you thought. Soldiers weren’t something you were particularly fond of, nor were your teachers. Well, if you don’t count him, but that’s not important right now anyway.

"Well, bad for her. I don’t need someone on my team who can't show me a tad of respect," he snorted, glaring at you like he wanted to kill you—sweet, you thought, how naive he was. He really didn’t know what you were capable of.

"There is no discussion. She is on the team as long as I need her, understood?"

"Understood, General."

The boss left, telling you to try to listen to John but always listen to him first. Reasonable. You’d heard weirder requests.

"So, we're stuck with her now," the boy called Gaz, what a stupid name, asked.

"Yes."

"At least you aren’t hard on the eyes, lass," Soap joked. The man with the stupid name and the worst haircut chuckled while his hand touched your shoulder in an attempt to tease you and soften the tension between you and the new team.

By instinct, your hand grabbed his, putting it in a position where it would be so easy to break his hand. "Прикоснись ко мне снова, и я убью тебя!" you hissed, and the men only looked stupidly at you.

"Ah, she just doesn’t understand English, poor lass."

"I understand English perfectly fine. I said if you touch me again, I’m going to kill you!" The monotonous look in your eyes sent shivers down Soap's spine. He knew you weren’t playing; crazy, that’s what you were to him, and you didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t touch you again.

"Okay, why don’t we all calm down?"

"Great, Cap."

"Tell us your callsign or something about you," the older man said, and you asked yourself what would happen if you just stood up and left. But the mission was more important than your ego or annoyance for all of them. Well, except the ridiculous masked man; at least he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

"Love, 19," was all you said. The truth was, you didn’t remember your name anymore. It was all gone, buried deep between all the sessions you needed to endure until the final selection. You knew that you were called 0694 most of your life, until the accident which made them call you Love.

"You don’t seem like someone with the callsign 'Love,' more like Medusa."

"Gaz, stop!" the old man scolded. You could see the wrinkles on his face. He was at least 40, you thought. Was he more like Shepard, or Durinov? Well, he wasn’t a good guy, that's what you knew about him. But who is a good guy after all?

"Okay, Love, the Lieutenant will show you your room."

"Хорошо" You bark at him, getting ready to follow the Ghost masked guy to your new room.

"Speak English, Love."

"Fine, Captain," you scoffed at him. You were sure you wouldn’t like it here. Why couldn’t a better boss get you someone who just gave you orders? You were good at following orders: Kill him—done, torture him—done, make him pay—easy. Just this American sitcom family situation was too nauseating for you. Your thoughts went away to the prospect of skinning some of them alive, but not allowed.

You walked with Ghost to your new place. He was taller than you and bulkier, but that didn’t mean he was stronger. You fought a lot against guys like him—brutes—and they always lost. Strength isn’t enough without a brain, but he seemed smarter than the other ones; he didn’t talk, and you could appreciate that.

"This is it," he gestured to a single room with white walls and a twin-sized bed in the middle. It was one of the better places you’d slept in, if you forget Budapest, Moscow, and Prague. Stupid girl, you thought to yourself. Don’t dwell on your memories; they're gone, gone, gone.

"Okay."

"You don’t talk much," he observed.

You only nodded firmly, not bothering to use your lips to form words.

"Good," he said before walking away.

You threw your bag into the corner. You didn’t have much besides your uniform, weapons, and that washed-out picture of him, which you should have thrown out a long time ago. But it's like a warning for you, you thought. Maybe it was indeed sentiment, which you wouldn’t admit—not after that day.

In search of the training room, you walked past the meeting room where the men still sat as if time stood still.

"Shouldn’t the TF 141 have just four of us, Cap?" the man with the cap asked. If you remembered right, he was called Gaz or something like that.

"Shepard only approved of this task force if she would join, so it's off the table."

"She is crazy," Mohawk guy stated.

"Maybe so, but she's great in the field."

"How do you know, Ghost?"

"Met her in Lisbon four years ago, but as an enemy."

"Four years ago, she was 15."

"Indeed."

"This can't be true."

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

Lisbon, March 2018

The storm howled through the gloomy streets of Lisbon. It was one of your first solo missions: just kill the target and finish. Nothing special, but lying on the rooftop with your sniper gun was more uncomfortable than you had originally imagined. Of course, you were used to discomfort, but the missions were always your safe space. Sleeping outside was easy—safer than there.

But now you were soaked through to your underwear, and the damn target was taking his sweet time. You were trained to lie here on the rooftop for several days, and you won't mess up your first mission; it all factors into the evaluation. And you already messed up that hard. You needed to improve before the grand selection.

Footsteps echoed behind you. You had the choice to turn around and fight off the intruder or to keep focusing on your mission. If he caught you turning around, you would fail, and you really didn’t need this. You decided to foolishly turn around, aiming your gun at him. He was tall, bulky, with blonde hair and several scars on his face—a soldier. Probably, your survival rate was around 75%.

Of course, he pointed his gun at you too, making this even more annoying than it already was. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” He had a British accent, probably SAS, judging by his uniform.

“I’m a NATO soldier just keeping watch. No one shoots the governor,” you tried hard to speak with an American accent, maybe he was a brute and not a brain. The uniform you wore didn’t have any flags, atypical for NATO.

“Don’t bullshit me, tell me the truth before I put a hole through your head,” he barked at you, at least only half an idiot, you guessed.

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t put a hole through your head first.”

“As if you were able, little girl.” Before you could form a cocky remark, you already had a bullet in your shoulder. He thought you would leave your position because of the bullet, but you stayed put; you needed to finish the mission. He hunched over to you, turning you around while drawing his knife out.

“Блядь, неужели ты не можешь просто позволить мне быть,” you cursed under your breath, drawing your knife too, standing up without a hint of pain in your eyes, making him wonder how this was possible.

“NATO, huh?”

He tried to bring you down with his pure brute strength, but as always, he forgot that strength isn’t everything. “You shouldn’t have such a bad stance,” you smirked before he could defend his technique; you already put a knife inside his hip.

The big, incapable soldier winced on the ground as if a knife wound hurt that bad. Before he could reach for something, you were already on your way to your rope, grabbing it to jump from the rooftop.

“By the way, never disturb my work again, сука,” and with that, you shot him in the shoulder, eye for an eye, and jumped from the rooftop.

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

"That's how the governor died?" Price asked, and Ghost only nodded. It wasn't one of his proudest moments; he would have won if he hadn’t been so unfocused. Since then, his missions were always about constant focus and never underestimating an enemy.

“She is a terrorist, we don’t work with terrorists,”

“Have fun fighting me, you lose, short man—all of you will lose,” you said, showing yourself from the corner where you had been hiding. They needed to tolerate you for their silly little task force.

[missmastectomy]

Gotta say I feel bad for a lot of trans people. I was having a discussion with a trans guy about how transmen are not safe and often feel uncomfortable in male specific spaces, especially male prisons, and they just wouldn’t acknowledge that was possible. The argument they used was that maybe some transmen would feel that way if they don’t pass, but that they wouldn’t post-transition.

This is just blatant wishful thinking. Even when I passed I felt uncomfortable in male restrooms because I understood that there is a power dynamic between me as a female vs a male. Especially in a space as vulnerable as a bathroom. It really makes you understand that you cannot escape the realities of your sex, regardless of whether you pass. If I had ever been clocked in male restrooms it would have made me minimum uncomfortable, probably unsafe.

They also wouldn’t acknowledge that passing transmen are not seen as men. I’m sorry, but you’re delusional. Trans people are seen as trans people or as their birth sex. They are not seen as the sex they want to transition to IF the people around them know they’re trans. Once people found out I was trans, nobody saw me as a “real man” anymore because I was literally never a real man, I was never male. Trans people need to accept that the most they can do if transition into trans people, not into the opposite sex. You’re detached from reality and doing yourself a disservice otherwise.

[apenitentialprayer]

i know that as a catholic you just have to believe with what the church says but i really dont like the belief of the original sin, i feel like its such a horrible thing to believe about yourself and about other human beings too

There are actually ways of legitimately dissenting from Church teaching from less essential teachings in a way that leaves you in good standing with the Church; I'm not sure if Original Sin is one of those things, though, to be honest.

But, anon, I'm going to offer another perspective here, starting from a quote (perhaps ironically?) from my favorite heretic. One of the things that James Carroll believes is that Original Sin has been given a bad wrap. In Constantine's Sword, he says:

I referred to Augustine’s assertion of the idea that the human condition implies a perennial state of finitude, weakness, and sin, all of which will be overcome, even for the Church, only with the end of time. [...] Augustine is thus regarded as the father of a severe, flesh-hating, sin-obsessed theology, but that dark characterization misses the point of his insight. His honest admission of the universality of human woundedness is a precondition for both self-acceptance and the forgiveness of the other, which for Augustine always involved the operation of God’s grace, God’s gift. Only humans capable of confronting the moral tragedy of existence, matched to God’s offer of repairing grace, are capable of community, and community is the antidote to human woundedness. Augustine sensed that relationship as being at the heart of God, and he saw it as being at the heart of human hope, too. This is a profoundly humane vision.

I wish I had understood the spirit of this quote when I was in high school. I remember learning in my World History class that Islam teaches that all children are born good, and then the world makes them evil. And I remember my teacher asking how that compares with Christianity, and I raised my hand and said that Christianity teaches that all of us are born evil. Because I believed that at the time. And, really, the whole framing of that question was wrong and gave really simplistic representations of what Islam and Christianity teaches, but I don't think we're alone in having internalized that understanding, anon. And that's a shame.

I thin it's important to remember the worldview that the doctrine of Original Sin is actively defending us against; there was an idea, that gets called "Pelagianism" (the poor guy it got named after may not even have believed it), that said that humans were capable of being saved on their own, by their own power. Someone on this site recently asked what people's thoughts on Pelagianism were, so you can read my thoughts here. But to keep it short and sweet, I think Original Sin is an important doctrine because it saves you from the need to be perfect.

There are ways to treat Original Sin that I think are certainly unhealthy, and I think the doctrine can be a source of anxiety and fear. But I also think, very deeply, that Original Sin should be a reason why we treat ourselves and especially our neighbor with kindness and understanding. I can look at myself and say "What I do, I do not understand. For I do not do what I want, but I do what I hate. […] For I do not do the good that I want, but I do the evil I do not want" (Romans 7:15, 19). And I can say that because I know I am ontologically wounded; that all of us have our weaknesses. That while we may still be in the moral wrong for committing a morally wrong action, our wills are compromised in a way that causes us to incline towards the comfortable and the easy rather than the good.

I wish I could go back in time and tell that class that Christianity does not teach that people are born evil. I wish I could go back and tell them that it teaches that we are born in a state of dis-integration, that we are wounded beings yearning for wholeness; alienated beings seeking everlasting belonging; beings lost in darkness, seeking the light. But I can say it now: the doctrine of Original Sin doesn't have to be an occasion to think you're depraved and without value, but it can be an invitation to come to terms with your own woundedness, because doing that (to use the words of Lutheran theologian Nancy Eiesland) "opens a space for the inflowing of grace and acceptance."

[justauthoring]

his light.

because a light always fades eventually.

a/n -> i love angstttttttt

pairing -> choso x f!reader

tw.-> implied sex, implied death

it was a love that didn't come easy.

a love that burned and ached and left you trembling and scared and thinking of a life where it was all just a little bit easier. but you refused to give up.

the idea of giving up was more painful than anything else.

he didn't understand love. not completely and not always. he knew how he felt for you, came to understand the feeling of his welling at the sight of you. he knew of the reason why you never left his thoughts or when he'd close his eyes, you were always the first thing that he'd see.

smiling, eyes twinkling, shining and as beautiful as the first time he saw you.

and he remembers the moment his eyes landed on you for the first time perfectly.

you'd come barelling towards yuji, worried and scared as you checked over him, asking him if he was okay. you'd begged him to explain everything, eyes glancing around for gojo and nanami, along with your other students and your eyes filling with tears when yuji shakingly told you that they didn't make it.

you hadn't even noticed him yet. your eyes had welled at the news that gojo was trapped and apparently it had been a man named geto who had done it. choso hadn't known then why that had torn you up so deeply inside.

and you'd apologized when you heard about nobara and nanami.

apparently, you'd been sent on another mission instead of to shibuya; somewhere overseas and had returned at the tail end of everything.

choso had watched you, watched as you cried and fussed over your student. watched as you were told about the friends you'd lost and the students you'd failed to protect. his heart had ached in a way he'd never experienced before, unsure of the emotions coarsing through him.

yuji had shakily introduced him after you'd calmed and that was a mess of things in of itself, but what surprised and confused choso the most was the way you'd smiled at him (albeit shakily and not completely meeting your eyes) and had thanked him for protecting yuji.

you hadn't doubted him once, trusting yuji's words with ease and had accepted him without hesitation.

choso hadn't understood then, but the emotions burning through him had been of love.

and that was just the beginning.

tentative looks, hesitant touches, words spoken in secret. there had been shared moments any second either of you could have them, hidden away from eyes and from the danger of what you were both stuck in. choso relished in the moments, greatly enjoying your company and being given the privilege and chance to learn what it was like to be human.

and you? you'd basked in the warmth he flooded you with, after all of it had been ripped from you cruelly. he was safe and kind and sure, you knew he was a curse, but that hadn't mattered to you the moment yuji told him that, somehow, someway, choso had decided to help him.

that he was good.

and he was a good that you'd never experienced before. he lit your whole world up in a way that the past seemed so dull in comparison. filled your darkness with rays of light and the emptiness in your heart; he patched the broken pieces of you up piece by piece in a way you're sure he wasn't even capable of understanding.

yet, all of it hurt.

ached.

burned.

because you knew it wouldn't last. it... couldn't last.

the two of you were doomed from the beginning.

you just hadn't known it'd be so quick.

-

"you're doing it wrong."

stilling his movements, choso chances a glance behind him, meeting your eyes and the soft smile on your lips.

"oh?" he asks, confused and curious as his eyes flicker back to the bowl in his hands. he thought he'd been doing it right... but if you said he wasn't, then...

"here," you call, stepping forward from the door and over to choso. you send him a soft smile when you reach him, his eyes trained on yours, captivated by you as you gently take the whisk from his hands. "i'll mix, you hold the boy, okay?"

nodding, choso tightens his grip on the bowl just as your hand starts to move. you start small, testing his hold before your movements become strong, swiping your hand around in circles. choso watches as the batter is mixed together with ease.

"this way it cooks properly," you explain, head tilting back to send him a soft smile. "it'll taste better."

lips forming a 'o', choso nods. "i've never made a cake before," he says after a moment, voice faint. "i don't think i've ever had cake before."

"can curses enjoy sweets?" you ask, and choso feels no insult by it given that he can tell you're genuinely curious. you were always asking him questions about how it worked to be a curse, trying to understand him better since, before him, you'd never tried to get along with a curse.

you'd just kill them. or trap them if you couldn't.

"i'm sure it's not the same as it is for you," he admits with a solemn expression. "but i can taste how sweet it is."

you beam at that, eyes sparkling in delight. "oh perfect," you gush, clapping your hands together in excitement. "i would've felt bad if you wouldn't be able to enjoy it properly."

choso pauses; "why?"

having turned your focus back to the batter, you pause; "hmm?"

"why would that bother you?"

you seem confused at his question at first, before your face seems to ease and relax with a knowing expression. letting the whisk balance at the edge of the bowl, you turn to face choso completely, taking his hands in your own and squeezing. "because i care about you. and cakes are delicious."

"oh," choso mumbles.

he's not sure if he completely understands your meaning but he knows it's heartfelt and sincere and that's enough for him. he may not understand everything or function the way a human would with you, but it doesn't seem to bother you and choso relishes in that fact.

"then i thank you," he finishes.

you just laugh, bumping your hip with his. "no need."

-

he's aware he's staring. and that he has been for five minutes.

and he's aware it's starting to freak you out a little.

but... there's something he wants, he just doesn't know how to express that want.

"choso?" you call, face filled with concern as you turn to face him fully. you'd been debriefing the plan for tomorrow regarding the culling game when choso had suddenly zoned out, a distant look in his eyes and you'd known he'd stopped listening then. "is everything okay?"

"i..." but he hesitates. he doesn't even know the words he's looking for.

"yes?" you prompt, making sure to keep your voice light; you don't want to pressure him. "you can tell me, choso. anything."

his eyes blink at your own, before you notice the subtle shift down, right at your lips. and by the longing in his gaze, it isn't hard to figure out what he wants then.

"do you want to kiss me?"

choso blinks out of his stupor, flinching back. "what?"

"kiss," you emphasize, leaning towards him until your inches apart. "press your lips," and you tap them for explanation, "against mine?"

yes, choso realizes. that is what he wants.

lips parting, choso swallows thickly. "is that what someone does to someone they care about?"

"depends," you shrug. "you wouldn't do it to a friend or a sibling... but a boyfriend would."

"boyfriend?"

"means to be together intimately with someone," you clasp your hands together, demonstrating your meaning. "to date someone... you'd kiss and... other things."

"i want to kiss you."

a smile graces your features at that, soft and demure as your shoulders easy and a pretty pink dusts across your smooth cheeks. choso is entranced by the sight, unable to pull away; at least, he is, until he feels your warm, soft lips against his.

he stiffens at first, unuse to the touch. but then he finds he rather enjoys the sensation and even more, he enjoys having you so close. his body relaxes on it's own and his hands twitch, hesitating for a moment, before reaching for your hips to pull you closer.

you end up in his lap, pulling away with a laugh as choso chases your lips.

you laugh louder at the pout on his lips.

"we should really focus on what's going on," you mumble, blinking lazily, intoxicated by the way he's staring at you. "yuji-kun and megumi-kun are relying on us..."

"i wanna kiss more," choso whispers, trying to pull you close again.

you try to push away, giggling, but then your eyes meet his and he sends you this look that has you reeling and all your determination fades.

"okay," you concede, just as love drunk as he is. "one more."

it's not just one more.

-

"don't stare."

your face is red, cheeks burning as your hands hold yourself, trying to cover yourself from choso's unwavering stare. he liked to stare a lot, and usually you didn't mind, but it felt entirely different when you were so... exposed.

nothing but your arms to cover your breasts, with choso hovering over you, his hair hanging loose like a halo around you. all you could focus on was him, shrouded from anything else because of his figure, and he seemed just, if not more, solely focused on you.

"i've never..." but his words fade and he swallows thickly, and this lidded, lust-filled expression floods his eyes that has you squirming. "you're beautiful."

the warmth intensifies and you turn your head, desperate to get away from his heated stare.

choso is quick to rectify it, his hand reaching out to clasp your jaw and pull your attention back on him. your jaw slacks as he does, not used to choso to... hands on and demanding. it was usually you instigating things, with his permission and at his pace of course—but nonetheless, you.

this... was different.

not bad, just... overwhelming.

"don't hide," he whispers, voice husky. "i want to see you," he confesses, "all of you."

"it's embarrassing," you mumble, biting your lip. "no one... no one's ever seen me like this."

that gives choso pause. stilling over you, his eyes widen as he pulls back slightly. "no one?" he asks, clarifying. "not even someone like gojo?"

you recoil at that. "gods no," you rush to deny. "gojo is... is a dear friend, of course. but—but not like that. never like that."

oddly, choso seems eased at that and it catches your attention because you never thought... never thought choso was capable of feeling such an emotion like jealousy.

"good."

he leans forward a second later, face close and imposing and it fills your stomach with butterflies.

"i'm going to make you feel good," he promises and you feel yourself grow wet at his husked whispers, legs brushing against each other. "so you'll never forget me."

-

your body is dead, heavy weight in his arms.

there's a mix of emotions that flood him and none of them make complete sense; but the worst part is he doesn't have you to explain them to him. you were his guide, his light and you'd taught him what it was like to feel human.

not because you didn't love him for who he was, but because he wanted to know. you taught him love and happiness and compassion and passion and...

and now, all he feels is this indescribable and unavoidable deep burn of pain deep in his heart that aches and pulls and twists.

bloodied, bruised, your chest remained still, no heart beat and no breath.

you were just... gone.

he'd known he was a curse and you were a human; the both of you had known that he would outlive you... that was just a matter of fact and no matter how much he'd wished it so, it would never change.

but this? this was too early.

this was too painful.

and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

he cries for the first time then; something he hadn't even known possible for him. that burn in his chest alights a fire in him and his eyes are welling out of his control, blurring his vision of your limp body pressed against him and streaming down his cheeks in a feeling he's never felt before.

but it's the only thing he knows to do then.

so it's the only thing he does

[analytical-rant]

ZERO DAY RANT. 002 TW: SEE TO THE MOVIES CONTENTS BEFORE READING. I WILL BE DISCUSSING THE IMPORTANT BUT TRIGGERING ASPECTS OF THIS MOVIE.

Cal was metaphoric, poetic in his views and morality. And he didn't wanna live.

Andre was angry, lonely, and wanted nothing more than to die for what he wanted to prove.

They're so different, and yet they understand each other. They're problems both strayed from the same place, they felt an absence of purpose. So they created one for themselves, and they died for it man. They died by each other. It's obvious anyone wouldn't ever reason with what they were thinking or doing, because they killed these men and women. They killed people with lives, and even in the end revenge is still preserved. It's this act of revenge that spiked another.

Revenge in this movie, is just seen to be drawn out further in the end. Even after what they did. stuff rooted from it, these kids saw this act of burning their graves as rightful. But do they not understand this was the same delusion, same hate that created this cause? They are the same violence, with different extents. They do not see the cry that was in their ends, but who would when it was after a laugh. They are immoral, they are horrible. But they were never given a chance, they were the reason to each other that either saw to this plan at all. They are the Army of two. This movie's point is to prevent what they did. To prevent who can become what they have. You can't get help unless you seek it, and you can't let problems happen till they get to a dangerous point. If there's a problem, if there's an effect to someone's well being, you can never know if it's capable of something bigger. What it can lead to, and no one deserves to live life with the purpose to end it. No one is truly a monster, no one is the bad guy, no one is the good guy. We're all fucking humans. But if we feed into others ideation, if we're influenced by others ideation we can become horrible. We can become blind, and corrupted. Everything is conceptual, everything is a word and a thing to be thought about. We have so much in life that tears us, that makes us happy. Sometimes we don't understand our own emotions, or actions. So how could Cal and Andre? It took two people to tell each other it was reasonable, it was rightful. It took two suicidal, ill children disturbed in their own ways to give each other enough comfort to have the courage to kill themselves and others. It proves you can be hurt by the wrong crowd, but yet only understood by them. You want to be understood, you don't want to be alone. But sometimes those aspects don't make you realize what your doing shouldn't happen. Morality, its so fucking flexible if your part of the wrong crowd, or driven to a wrong point. But really it isn't morality that drives someone to murder, its desire, or hate. And hate can be in morality, it can make something feel right. You hate robbers, because what they do isn't right. Andre hated this school, because what it does to him isn't right. But how Andre handled dealing with it was horrible, it was clear he was in a mindset unhealthy, and being friends with Cal only enabled it. Andre only enabled Cal. Zero day isn't a slasher movie, it isn't a true crime. It sheds light on these problems, it makes you think. It makes you understand, to try to prevent. Because these people came from simple name calling. So hey, one. Don't call someone an idiot, communicate. We don't know if someone's mentally disturbed, and why even call someone an idiot in the first place? That isn't education, it's blatant harm. And if this 'idiot' is causing it themselves from words or action, its counterproductive. You're being a hypocrite. And it'll only be getting anger out of them which just causes either spite or ignorance so then you get nowhere. I mean, if there's ignorance either way, then sometimes it's better left to professional help. And two, it just tells you to seek this help yourself. No matter how horribly or subtly ill, it's better than starting from something capable of causing harm to yourself or others. Zero Day is just something fake, but real. In all honesty, like any other it's how you find something out of this movie, whether bad or good. It just feels like a test. It was never made to encourage, but prevent. But people are capable of either, and that in itself is the test. To see if you're capable of reasoning, and understanding what's really to blame. And simply, no one. Your story is dependent on your actions, on what you do to help yourself. And killing or suicide is never an option. Movies can be for hope, for reasoning and awareness. This movie is anything, but to be encouraging. It's meant to make you more thoughtful, to find points and reason from this and everything else. It wasn't made for shock culture, it's more than that. PT.1 PT.3

[curatorofvibes]

Saturn in the 11th House

Saturn in the 11th / Eleventh House natal. Don’t let astrology limit you, you can be who you dream you are!

Saturn in the 11th House. That feeling that you can’t “fit in”, especially with your age group. Yearning for a true connection, people who really love you for you and not how you make them feel, what you can give them, or the idea of you. Wanting to be recognized and given your flowers while you’re still here to receive them (give them their props, they tend to feel really unappreciated). Loving being alone as a result of never really feeling like you connect with others or feeling understood. Just hating surface level shit. But wait... Have you ever had a friendship break your heart? Lol but no seriously!? Like I trusted you and I let you in, I showed you the most vulnerable parts of myself and that’s something I never do. It’s like.. How could you? I understand some people don’t really take friendships that seriously and just go around calling anyone and everyone their “friend” and “best friend”, but that shit means a lot to the native with this placement and it’s not just a title. If they consider you a friend they really mean it. Can I be understood and loved for me? You can’t give that to me, so I have no problem giving that to myself. ~♡CuratorofVibes♡

Saturn in the Eleventh House Perfect Description (in my opinion): Saturn In The Eleventh House : The Atheris hispida Snake

Here’s the link to the playlist:

(…)

(At this point just... leave me alone.)

(I don’t know who to trust anymore.)

(“I’d rather have quality than quantity.”)

(I want to be loved for me.)

(Trust Issues.)

(“I like bein’ alone.”)

("Please don't think I'm insecure.")

(I'm surrounded by so many people, yet I feel so alone.)

(Find myself asking: “Is this really what people talk about and value?”)

(“If you go cost my peace, then I go take my leave.”)

(I’ve decided to remain reclusive.)

(I don’t “fit in”, and that’s fine.)

(Far beyond pretending that I need you.)

(“Me, myself and I. That's all I got in the end, that’s what I found out.” - Beyoncé)

(I choose me.)

(Will anyone ever really see me?)

(♄.)

I originally made this post on December 27, 2021 and then I put it on private for reasons that I do not recall. I'm unable to reblog the original and its moodboard, so I've created this new post. I hope whoever indulges in and with this playlist and post enjoys it. I love reading comments, so if you have anything to say about this placement, playlist, and/or post don't be shy (but if you are, send something in the asks lol)! 🤎💫

I would also like to state that I'm not an astrologer, I created this post because of the playlist that I made in relation to this astrological placement and simply wanted to share it with whoever it finds its way to.

[justsigma-bsd]

A Blank Page, Torn From A Book Without Name

Well, I ended up trying to put the word salad in my head into actual, coherent words after all.

First of all, everything here is just my take on things. The theories and thoughts I've had on certain things. I don't think any of it is official, but if anything of it is, in fact, confirmed to be true or false, feel free to tell me!

Some of the panels were taken from a YouTube video, which I'll link at the bottom!

TW for: Human trafficking, dehumanization

Ok, so first things first, some of this stuff I've already written down a while back for writing reasons. I found some of my old notes, and noticed that, after rereading the panels, they make more sense than I previously thought.

Let's start here: what stands out the most to me isn't that he's in the desert, not even the ticket. No, it's the simple »[...] or even who I was«

Because who, indeed, is Sigma? Sigma does not have an identity. He has no history, no nothing. Just the clothes on his back, a ticket that seems to be useless and earrings, for some reason.

Without a name, you don't have an identity and without identity you don't have a name.

Then there is this, too:

»I gave myself a name. Sigma. A man of the casino«

I don't believe he had a name upon being created. I don't think he had one for a long time, because in the same panel that he mentions giving himself a name, he also mentions the casino- which came much, much later. Sigma existed for three years by the time the series started. However, the timeline is wonky as heck.

Because how long did he stay with the traffickers? How long was he on his own after escaping? How long ago did Fyodor find him? Questions upon questions, but since I've already mentioned the lack of a name and the traffickers, let's get to my thoughts on that, specifically:

»They captured and enslaved me« along with »And once they knew that I had a skill [...]« makes me wonder: how long did it take for them to find out?

I haven't researched anything about human trafficking, but it's basically slavery, from what I've gathered through the previous things I've heard and read. And he does say so himself, too.

Sigma, three days alive, spent his early life a slave. It's confirmed that he was shackled, seeing that he is wearing them in the panels.

(As a side note, I do believe that he has scars from the shackles around his wrist. He wears a tight, wrist-long turtleneck beneath his coat, and I think it's to hide the scars. Both from others and himself.)

His first human interaction was plain horrible. Did he know and understand that? Did he understand that this wasn't normal? I don't think he knew how wrong this was at first. I don't believe that he understood it immediately. If he didn't know who he was, why would he know that being treated like this is wrong?

I believe that he realized it at some point, but not as soon as it started. I think he lived like that for a while, thinking it was normal, before getting some sort of wake-up call. Perhaps through his ability, or a fellow prisoner. Maybe both, or neither.

He must've gotten whiplash, once people genuinely looked up to him when he was the manager at Sky Casino.

I also think that he, probably, does tend to forget that being treated like that is, in fact, not normal or okay. Our upbringing leaves some sort of mark on all of us, experiences define us, give us habits and a feeling of what's normal and what isn't.

Which means that his "normal" is skewed and he expects being used rather than kindness, probably even after learning that some people are genuinely kind. I'm guessing that his mindset is, due to that, a simple "If I'm alive I'm alright".

I don't think he'd complain about being treated wrong and or left behind, or admit when he's injured. Or at the very least attempt to keep it a secret as long as possible- especially from those he sees as authority figures.

However, I also think that he was isolated, as per this panel:

Not only the text, but also the background paint a picture that causes me to believe that.

I almost skimmed past this panel while making my analysis, before pausing and taking a closer look. I thought this was in Sky Casino at first, until I looked closer and realized three things:

1, the background does not match Sky Casino in the slightest

2, he isn't wearing shoes or his current outfit, but the old clothes he had when wandering the desert

3, the shadows aren't from the light of a window, they're bars from a cell

While I did believe before that the traffickers kept him isolated from others (due to wanting to keep him unaware of the wrongness of his situation as well as to make sure he doesn't learn things he should/other prisoners finding out things that Sigma got to know by accident), this sort of put the final nail in the coffin for me.

But, at some point, he did realize that it was wrong. Perhaps he'd had a bad feeling from the start. Maybe he hated being treated like this. Who knows? Point is, he escaped. This brings us back to this page:

»No matter how kind someone seemed, they used me and then tried to kill me for knowing too much«

Sigma, after escaping the traffickers, after escaping the life of a slave, probably still didn't know much about living.

And I firmly believe that Sigma is smarter than even he himself thinks. There's just one issue: Sigma is naive (at least in my eyes), and it's not even his own fault. He simply tried his best to survive, and what was the reason the traffickers kept him around? His ability, most likely.

Problem is that his ability truly is something people would love to exploit, and it seems as if they did. Which makes me believe that he has a talent for running into murderers thinking they're nice people, only to get a not-so-nice surprise.

»The last one to use me [...]«, this specific line is the reason why I believe Sigma to have been used a lot. We don't know how often, exactly, his ability was taken advantage of. But we know the latest person who did.

Fyodor was the last one to use him, which means that, at that point, he was probably used to it. Used to being treated like a pawn, and used to people trying to kill for knowing too much. And I believe that he was, quite plainly, exhausted.

Imagine, your entire life consists of being forced to aid others with crimes, with being shackled. You don't know the difference between working for someone and being used by someone.

If you were offered what you wanted most, wouldn't you accept, too? Even if you know that you're once again being used? I mean... this time around, you gain something for it. Doesn't that make it worth the risk?

It's a gamble Sigma took... and lost.

This page involves two quotes that give me pause:

»Don't you wish for a home?«

We don't know why or how he knows what a home and a family is, but he does. And he wants it. He says it was never within his reach. But it is perfectly clear to us, while reading the Sky Casino Arc, that he wants it. He wants a home and a family.

He'd rather sacrifice his own life than see Sky Casino fall. »Home« and »Family« are, to him, more important than staying alive. Because it's something he never had, and something he clings to. Simply because he doesn't have anything else.

»I, who was originally 'nothing'[...]«

Is the second line that makes me pause. Because like previously mentioned, Sigma was a slave with no name or identity of his own. We don't know when he found out about being created by the book (and I firmly believe that he found out one way or another), but I believe he didn't see himself as a human before, and this "confirmed" it for him.

Think about it, would traffickers care about their victims? Would they treat them as human beings? Call them by their name? What about a person who has no name to begin with?

He wasn't treated like a human being in the beginning, and thus considered himself nothing. Considered his home and "family" to be worth more than hid own life.

He was literally created from nothing. His story doesn't have a beginning. He has no memories prior to being created, he had no name nor identity. How his story will end is unknown. We don't know what's written on his page.

I believe this, combined with being with the traffickers, makes him doubt his humanity. Not only because he was created through the book, but also because for the first (months? Year?) of his life, he wasn't treated like a human.

His sense of self-worth is probably down in the dumps.

»In the end I never did understand what I was born for...«

I don't think he knows the details of his existence. The content of his page, the words that brought him into existence. He doesn't know why he was born/created. He doesn't know what things were predetermined.

He doesn't know what's real and what's just writing on a page.

Sigma, in three years of being alive, went through hell. He was enslaved, his ability was taken advantage of over and over, he was used by multiple people who all ended up trying to kill him and when he thought that he finally found a home? A family? It was taken away from him.

Genuinely, he needs a plate of cookies, a hug and a ton of therapy.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my little analysis and theories? I never did something like this before, so criticism is welcome!

Here's also the link to the video from which I got the screenshots: https://youtu.be/KwsSvFYAKjA?si=R_IvH-S8GYut_hrG

[34saveme34]

MOST INCOHERENT MARWARE RAMBLING INCOMING

I'm so obsessed and I must talk because I love the amount of potential here

like it's. villain x hero's silly sidekick. that's hilarious

like think about it. Puzzles didn't quite get to Mario like to the others

babe's collateral and did he make Puzzles regret that

their dynamic

just the silly in general. I love the early time ship art "what those antennas do" hell if I know but Mario is keen to find out.

it's silly fun! really cute and fun, especially when it stop Puzzles in his tracks. When he expects fear or devotion and instead he gets such a weird and unexpected and chaotic form of adoration with which his heart (if it is still there) cannot handle. it's beautiful. Mario in general just having feelings for him. It's so good

but also I wanna explore the like, specific eroticism that you can put into the Hunt. The way how Mario hunts Puzzles because he craves Entertainment and he'll have it No Matter What, it's so disgustingly amusing and something I could think about forever. I never really understood this before but these 2 REALLY made me understand. Mario smashing every single TV on his way until he finds His One and the Hunt is over? I'm so fucked up, I'M SO F U C K E D

ngl I realise a certain part of the fandom would probably call me a freak for this. I'm calling them catholic guilt ridden

anyways!

the emotional. oh the emotional. Mario already had a different thing going on when it came to villains

I think he is like, the best candidate in general to help Puzzles in redeeming himself. Mario can be SO caring and like like like

it's just ONE facet of this, this isn't how it starts but over time it would become such an important part of this because he grows like, genuine attachment

but the most important thing in the beginning would be is that he's casual. He also has like. a very specific type of emotional maturity, which some people like to call inconsistent writing, I like to call it a quirk and acknowedge it with my whole heart

but it would like, allow the 2 to speak on like, more casual terms

where Puzzles isn't a danger anymore and Mario just so happens to be there at the right time, say the right words

the rights words for Mario to just so obviously see that Puzzles needs a friend so so badly and letting him have it

this once, maybe he can prove to be a cool friend

and oh would he.... oh my goooood would he aaaughgh

because at his core, like, Puzzles isn't evil for the sake of evil, he's evil to obtain what he wants

so like, if he isn't obtaining anymore kdsldlsk I bet he could be fun. Mario would make him touch grass, they would go places together, have some silly adventures together, some more chaotic than the other

a dynamic that would form between the 2 where Puzzles becomes just a bit too soft that he lets Mario get away with things he shouldn't

maybe even helps him because he finds it fun anyways

considering what he was before..... finding solace in chaos and forgetting perfection for a second there...... he finds perfection right beside him....... maybe like, for example in the middle of a food fight Mario causes because they gave him shitty spaghetti or something and Puzzles just seeing the glee on Mario's face over the fun chaos and just. Feeling something in himself. And he wouldn't, for a long time, realise that it's love. He never felt it before

I can almost imagine him turning to romantic movies and such, trying to figure out if the feeling fits. Because it's so so intense in him, he never felt anything like this. He can't talk to anyone about this, he has no other friends in all this. And oooh dhslksdjsd ooOOhOohK?,s,,s,s dsooooooooohhh,,, dsdldk

guys I think he would create. Idk I just think. ijust think .

having experiences in life now, things that just keep replaying in his head, as he is starting to have a life. he would create something from his own head. And it would be like a love letter to Mario. And he would GET IT. And by it I mean. You know. 😲😳😳😳😳😳😳don't make me say it............

okay okay.......!!! He would get Puzzles's homosexual ass.