pensarenumbers

[soggypotatoes]

I see so many posts abt loving to be a hater but honestly!! I love to be a lover!! it's so fun!! I love loving songs that I don't think are particularly "good", songs that are unpopular in my circles that my friends make fun of me for liking.. I love enjoying the company of people others don't like, even if I know I wouldn't like them if I were rationally making a decision about it.. I think all people are interesting to talk to, and I love that! I love finding things to like in everything. idk man. people see this attitude as dumb or naive, but I'm fully aware of everything bad in the world. I just find life a lot easier to live if I love everything I can

[lovelettersfromluna]

Supercut

Summary: “In my head, I play a supercut of us.”

an: halfway through writing this I decided that this isn't technically the finale hehe, more of cam girl!Ellie come, this is just the end of them being stupid. mwah mwah love you all more than you know.

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, angst, cam girl!ellie, Ellie is a real idiot in this one tbh, arguing, hurt/eventual comfort, toxic!Ellie, tribbing, making out, pet names, this one is a little short im sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!!

Read part 1 here, and part 2 here!

You know that gross feeling you get whenever you look back at old pictures or videos? You know, the one that you feel at the pit of your stomach, and it makes you really happy but also really sad? What's that called again?

Oh, right. Its melancholy

It's that feeling where you have a specific memory, and you know that no matter what, that time is gone. You can't replicate it, and the only place that it will live is in the confides of your own mind

And it sucks, because you don't even know when those moments are going to be made. There's no warning in your brain that the day you have planned is going to be so impactful to your life, that you will constantly chase that feeling, trying to replicate what it was that made that time so blissful so that you can feel that same warmth again.

You don't even get the chance to savor it while it lasts.

It almost makes you feel like you never wanted those times to happen to begin with, because you would have been fine without them. Sacrifice one of the times of your life so that you wouldn't have to spend countless nights laying in bed, only hoping that you will experience something that can even come close to how it all felt in the past.

Most of the time, it's easy to simply look back at those memories, feel that disgusting mixture of happiness and sadness, and then move on.

But for some god awful reason, you can't seem to do that this time.

This time, it lingers. It sits there, knocking at your chest, demanding to be acknowledged, to have all of your undivided attention, giving you no choice but to think about how fucked up this all is, how all of this was a complete and utter mistake, and how you have no way in taking it back.

It makes you wish time travel was real, yearning for some mad scientist to come out and say 'look everyone! you can reverse the mistakes you've made in the past!'.

But that doesn't happen, and you have no choice but to live with the icky feeling that settles at the pit of your stomach, and refuses to go away.

You weren't entirely sure what would happen after that night with Ellie, the night that she laid her weight on top of you, fucking you into her mattress over and over again, whispering the sweetest words into the nape of your neck, holding you the entire night through once you were finished, silence overcoming the space as you both fell into a blissful sleep.

It was hard to really tell where you both stood, but you weren't an idiot.

You knew, that you and Ellie had made love that night.

It was truly like nothing you had ever experienced. It was like you were constantly in that delicious state before sleep, where the world is soft, and everything is so comfortable right before you reach the point of unconsciousness, and everything feels so utterly perfect.

That's what it felt like, and you knew that from the moment Ellie had pulled you against her chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your head before you both fell asleep.

It happened, but God....you really wished it hadn't.

Because now? Things were so much fucking worse.

The feeling Ellie gave you scared you, and it made the ugliest thoughts fill your head when you woke up. You felt wrong, the skin on your body feeling filthy for doing something so intimate with her, with your roommate. You felt like you were taking something that wasn't yours, something that was never meant for you in that way.

So you ran.

Not far, of course. You were lucky enough to wake up before Ellie, gently peeling yourself from her body, your stomach sinking whenever she mumbled something gently in her sleep, her hands mindlessly reaching for your body before she fell back into her deep slumber.

You stood over her for a moment, watching as her eyes flickered in her sleep, lips parted as she snored gently. The feeling you had when you watched her sleep scared you, because you felt...like you wanted to stay with her, protect her, hold her in your arms and ignore the reality of how much this was fucking with your head, ignore the fact that she had simply wanted help with her work.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You inhaled deeply before you left her room, closing her door gently before you quickly went to your bedroom, tugged on a t shirt and jeans before you grabbed your jacket and left the apartment.

You stayed out in the city all day, that day. You were like a ghost, trying to sort out the feelings that were settling in your chest, opting to simply ignore them instead. You made sure to leave your phone at home, knowing any texts from Ellie wouldn't do you any good with how you were feeling.

You didn't return home until later that afternoon, the sun setting, slowly casting the familiar darkness of night onto the city that you had come to know. You wished you could stay out longer, avoid the situation more, but it was only gettin colder, and you knew you had to go back to your apartment sooner or later.

When you got there, you were greeted by silence. You don't even hear Ellie's usual music playing from inside her room. You frowned softly, looking around a bit for any signs of the girl there. You looked down, finding that her leather jacket and helmet weren't where they usually were.

Ellie had left too.

You should've been happy at that, giving you even more time away from the girl than planned, yet you can't ignore the ugly tinge of sadness and annoyance that lingers at the back of your throat at the thought of here simply...leaving.

When you got to your room, you quickly grabbed your phone, wishfully thinking that there would be a string of messages from your roommate, asking you where you've gone, and if everything is okay between you both.

But when you unlock your phone, there's nothing there.

Not a single call, or a single text.

And you suddenly realized, that great minds think alike.

So, that's how things go with you and Ellie after that. There isn't a grand scene of love, where you both confess that you had both felt that way from the moment you set eyes on each other, there isn't a happily ever after where you become her girl, and she becomes yours. There isn't any of that, you two simply go from being friends, to barely being roommates.

You guys never speak about it. There's never a conversation that happens to even clear the air, pretending as though that night in her bedroom never happened.

There's a sense of hostility that follows after all of it happens, because Ellie won't even fucking look at you now, let alone stand in the same room as you. If you're in the living room, she's in her bedroom, and if you're in the kitchen, she leaves the apartment to go eat somewhere else.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, because you can practically feel the hatred she has for you radiating off of her body whenever she's around, and it's a shock to you that you two are still even living together. The Ellie that would once sit in the living room with you, practically tugging your body to sit on her lap, has succumb to someone who barely even exists to you anymore.

And it doesn't even end there.

Ellie never really had girls in and out of the apartment before, even before you and her started filming and having sex. She was pretty strict about letting others into her space, only ever bringing around girls she was dating long term, or her designated filming partner. You never had a problem with it, letting Ellie know time and time again that the place was half hers, and she could bring whoever she wanted.

But that seemingly changed after you and her happened.

Because suddenly, there's a different girl at your apartment every night, and Ellie is fucking them ten different ways into the next month.

And it always happens to be on the nights before you have to wake up early to go in and open the record store.

She becomes relentless.

You first noticed it happening when she breezed past you on a Friday night, clearly dressed up for a night out. You couldn't really ignore the way your core tightened at how fucking good she looked, the feeling quickly overshadowed by the way she yet again left the house as if you weren't sitting right there.

After getting yourself to bed for some much needed shut eye, you were rudely awakened by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the sound of tumbling and soft giggles..

Which then slowly turned into the sounds of Ellie fucking a girl in her bedroom that was directly across from yours.

And it kept going, night after night, the sound of Ellie pleasuring another woman was all that you were left with. Not even your headphones on full volume could drown out the banging of Ellies headboard against the wall.

You have never been a jealous person, especially when it came to Ellie and her sex life. However, after what happened between the both of you, and the very clear fact that Ellie was indeed doing it out of spite..

You really couldn't ignore the fire you felt at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard some random girl moaning out Ellie's name to the top of her fucking lungs.

It was then that you came to terms with the fact that enough was enough.

And you had to move out.

It wasn't long until you wouldn't leave your room.

You seriously couldn't stomach the way it felt, being ignored by Ellie, her constant avoidance a reminder of how much of a bad idea it was to agree to filming with her in the first place. If that wasn't enough, constantly seeing her leave the apartment to go meet up with another girl started to hurt even more.

And you really didn't want to face the truth behind that.

There was something unsettling that came with the feeling it gave you, because how could you go from not even batting an eyelash at Ellie walking out of her bedroom with Julia, to feeling tears prickle at the edge of your eyes every time you heard her fucking someone else across from your room.

Because it's cruel, and you know you were wrong to leave her the way you did, but she left too. You knew that what you did was wrong, but surely you didn't deserve all of this? And why would she even want to hurt you like this in the first place? Surely you were the only one that felt this ridiculous conflicting feeling that only brought you stress.

And yet, you only found new ways to torture yourself.

It happens one night after work, you're tired and all you want to do is peel off your clothes and hop into bed.

Opting to grab your laptop, wanting to watch some mindless video on the internet to lull you to sleep, you are suddenly faced with something that had been waiting to haunt you.

A link to one of your videos with Ellie was still on your browser.

She had sent it to you a while ago, wanting to show you how well it was doing, and all the positive feedback that it was receiving, you meant to watch it at the time, but never got around to it. Now, it was sitting there, collecting dust until you decided to open it.

And you knew you shouldn't have, because that chapter of your life has closed, and you intended to keep it fully closed.

But curiosity did kill the cat, didn't it?

You didn't think twice before opening it, the link quickly flashing across your screen and taking you to Ellie's page. The thumbnail is of the two of you, the last video you guys had filmed. Its you, straddling Ellie on her bed, her strong hands gripping your hips, probably forcing you to grind down on her lap.

You feel your core tighten at the sight of it.

You don't look at it much longer, or read the comments either, because you know they will all be asking where you've gone, and whether or not you were coming back.

Instead of closing your laptop and going to sleep like you should have, you kept scrolling through Ellies page. You come to find the usual, seeing that she had been live the past few nights, as well as posted a few videos for her viewers to catch up on, none of it out of the ordinary.

Something does catch your eye however.

Its a video that was posted a few nights ago, and you can barely make it out, but you can see a thumbnail of Ellies tattooed hand pushed between a girls thighs, doing what you can only assume to be fingering her.

And that girl is definitely not you.

She had found herself a new partner.

It’s no shock that she did. She’d been actively fucking other girls, someone in and out of your apartment almost every night, something that she had made sure to make very clear to you…

But there was just something about actually seeing it that hurt like hell

You slammed your laptop shut, a bit too hard, but you were suddenly filled with something foreign to you, something that you hardly felt for anyone.

Quickly grabbing you blankets and tugging them over your body, you squeezed your eyes shut to try and erase the image of Ellie with another girl from your brain, the image slowly tainting the deepest corners of your mind so that you won't ever be able to do just that.

You couldn't do this anymore.

Ellie was just as bad at talking about her feelings as you were.

Because the morning after you and her had sex, she wanted nothing more than to wake up with you, kiss you, hold you, move on from this agonizingly slow phase that you two were in, where she was allowed to do the things that she always wanted to do, just conditionally.

She wanted to wake up, and move forward whatever the fuck you and her were stuck in.

But you didn’t. You simply woke up before her, and left, leaving Ellie to feel like a fucking idiot.

Because maybe she read into the entire thing wrong, maybe you didn’t feel anything for her, maybe you really did only see her as your roommate and nothing more than that….

Maybe that look in your eye that she was sure she saw when she was fucking you, was all in her head.

So when you ran, she did too.

And soon, Ellie’s sadness turned into anger, and all she wanted to do, was hurt you the same way that you hurt her.

She wanted you to hear her with other girls, she wanted you to see her with other women on her streams, she wanted you to see what it was that you’d lost, what you’d stupidly lost when you decided to run away from her the morning after it all.

But maybe she’d taken it too far.

Because Ellie’s anger turned into something that she didn’t want, because no matter how much noise she made, how good she tried to look whenever she was getting ready to go out with some random girl, no matter what she did to make you jealous, you never batted an eyelash her way, you never once reacted to anything that she did that was directed at you for the sole purpose of getting your attention.

And not only did it further prove to Ellie that you didn’t give a fuck about her, but it also made her so much more frustrated with you.

Did you seriously not have a fucking soul? Could you not even acknowledge her? Hurt for her? Feel hurt by her? Why wasn’t it working? Why weren’t you…..why couldn’t you just…..

Why couldn’t you just fucking want her.

Ellie was truly at her last straw, because being with other women was something she already didn’t like doing, but it was slowly eating away at her, picking away at her insides and making her feel hollow inside, a shell of who she used to be when she was with you.

And when she didn’t think things could get any worse, she found you doing something she only saw in her nightmares.

She hadn’t really noticed it at first, but slowly, your belongings began to disappear from the apartment. Particularly in the living room.

Your stack of blankets would get smaller and smaller as the week went by, the dorky little figures you had littered around different shelves and the tv stand started to disappear too, little parts of you started leaving, one by one, and Ellie was too far up her own ass to even notice.

Maybe if she had, she could’ve convinced you to stay.

In all honesty? Ellie probably wouldn’t even have realized you were leaving until it was too late, the girl far too consumed in her little revenge streak to notice the slow but sure disappearance of you, the way the remnants of you slowly began to leave one by one.

It just so happened that on a day that you were packing up some of your boxes, you had left your door cracked open, thinking that Ellie wasn’t home.

She was passing by your room when she heard a soft huff, the sound quickly catching her attention as she slowly walked towards your door, catching sight of the various opened boxes scattered around your room that was already looking sparse due to packing it all the way.

That. That was the straw the broke the camels fucking back.

Because suddenly, Ellie is pushing your door open, the force from her hand making it slam against your wall, the loud sound making you flinch to look over in her direction with wide eyes.

“Ellie?” You question softly.

The sound of her name rolling off your tongue makes a shiver run down her spine, because god….had she missed the way you said it.

Her eyes are angry, eyebrows furrows together as her eyes scan your room, looking at the boxes, your half empty closet, your empty book shelf.

“What the fuck is going on here?” She spits out, her tone making you wince slightly. It’s the first time you’ve heard her speak to you in almost an entire month and it’s so fucking hostile, so pointed.

This really wasn’t how you wanted this to go.

You let out a soft sigh, bringing your palm up to ran along your face as you look down at the boxes as well, heart sinking at the thought of going.

“Look…Ellie…I was planning on telling you…I just-“ she’s quick to cut you off, walking further into your bedroom as her eyes scan the walls, watching as they began to grow emptier and emptier the further in she looked. She scoffs, her green eyes finally landing on yours, her smoldering grip enough to take your breath away.

“Bull-fucking-shit. You weren’t going to tell me anything, and you know that” she argues, nostrils flared as she stares at you with eyes filled with that same glare of hate that you saw every time she’d glaze over you within recent weeks.

And she was right. You had no intention of telling her anything. She would learn that you were gone once you were gone, because that’s what you did.

You always ran.

You let out a sigh of defeat before you step away from her, fully intending on continuing packing. You didn’t want this to stop you, or put anymore obstacles in your way of leaving. This was what you had to do, and you knew that.

“I can’t stay here anymore, Ellie…things are fucked up between us and I just…I won’t deal with it anymore” you mumble out, your voice tired, weak. A clear indication of how you felt towards the entire situation. It was draining you, and you knew that for your own well being, you had to get out.

The sight of you packing as if she wasn’t in your room, trying to figure out why you were leaving, makes her even more upset. It blinds her from your words, from the weakness in your voice, in your appearance. She ignores it because the anger she feels is much easier to indulge in.

"So that's it? You're just gonna leave? Without saying anything to me?" she barks out, her tone making you feel worse than you already do.

And then it all stops, because why the hell are you feeling bad when this isn't even your fault.

You slowly turn to Ellie, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her in disbelief, cocking your head to the side slowly before you start to speak.

"Are you listening to yourself right now, Ellie? Do you ever stop to think for one second that not everything is about you?" The tone of your voice is so calm, words so slow and articulated, it barely even sounds like you're mad.

And it scares you, and it scares her.

You don't stop there, you couldn't even if you wanted to.

"This wasn't my idea, none of it was. I agreed to help you because you asked it of me, and I clearly have no fucking sense of boundaries. I get that what I did was wrong, and I shouldn't have left you that morning, but no one is fucking perfect" You defend, your own breath become more shallow the more you speak, your anger and frustration finally rising to the surface.

"This isn't good for me. You aren't good for me, you've been fucking different girls every goddamn night just to hurt me, and you're a fucking liar if you deny it." you spit out, making Ellie wince slightly, yet her eyebrows never unravel from how furrowed they are, and the frown on her lips is still there.

When you said it out loud though, she realized just how bad it was.

"I did it to get your fucking attention...not to hurt you" She barely whispers, staring down at you. You can't help but laugh softly, scoffing at her words before you give her a gentle sigh.

"Oh it got my attention, Ellie. It got it so much, that I can't bare for you to have it anymore..." you mumble out softly before you turn away from her, unable to stare into her eyes for any longer.

"I don't know what happened between us that morning...but I want nothing more than to just..forget about it all" You let out meekly, feeling yourself reduce to that small ball of insecurities once again.

And Ellie finally softens when she sees it, because you never let your guard down this much.

She inhales deeply, taking a step towards you, trying to get closer to you. You don't step back, or flinch, you simply ignore her, carrying on to pack your things as if she wasn't there, standing above you.

"You hurt me too...you know" she mumbled out, her voice finally dropping that hostile tone that she had when she first walked in. You're quick to turn towards her, spinning around to set your eyes that were quickly growing redder by the second.

"And Im sorry!" you shout, your voice going the loudest it had yet, it makes Ellie flinch.

You sigh out tiredly before you bring your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "If I could go back and do it differently..I would..but too much has happened, Ellie...I don't..." you trail off, struggling to find the proper words before you sigh softly, finally speaking again.

"I don't see you the same way, anymore" you mumble out.

This makes Ellies heart seize up, because what do you mean by that? What are you trying to tell her?

You move to sit on your knees, you bare legs coming in contact with the cold, wooden floor as you begin packing more things in a different box. There's no more fighting, there isn't anymore arguing, or anger, it's just silent, the occasional sound of your clothes hitting each other when they hit you settle them in the box. You don't even bother to turn around and yell at Ellie, or even tell her to get out.

And maybe thats what's hurting her the most. You never yelled, you didn't cry or beg, you didn't do anything when she knew you heard her, saw her with those other girls. All of them were nothing to her, sorry attempts at trying to grab hold of your attention again, get you to show just a little bit of fucking anger, so that she knew you still felt something for her, so that she knew she still had you.

But it was clear to her with the way that you disregarded her after it all, as if she didn't even matter, that she didn't have you anymore.

Did she ever? Did she ever have a chance with you? Was she all in her head? Were you simply just a good friend? A decent roommate who promised to help her out when she needed help? Was all of it just....

Pretend?

She feels like she's running out of options, because she assumed that if anything, you two would fight and end up in a heated, passionate love making session where you two would admit what you had felt all along.

But Ellie was slowly coming to the conclusion that she was being fucking delusional.

Her decisions didn't let up thought, because soon, she's on her knees next to you, grabbing your wrists gently in her hands and pulling you to face her. She feels her heart break when you refuse, trying to pull away from her grasp, mumbling soft complaints of how you needed to finish packing.

When she finally tugs you a bit harder, forcing you to look at her, she feels the weight of her mistakes finally settle on her chest, because you're crying. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are stained, and it's all her fucking fault.

She bites back a whimper, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth as she feel her own throat burn with tears.

"Hey...look at me...come on...where's my pretty girl...come on.." She tries over and over again, voice breaking, making you whimper as you try tugging your arms from her grasp.

"Don't you see how fucked up this is, Ellie? We were just screaming at each other and now...now you're calling me your girl" you plead with her, the words bubbling past your lips as the mere sight of here forces more tears from your eyes, making it harder and harder to talk.

Ellie can't talk her way out of this one, not with you. She knows there isn't much she can do, or say, and she feels like she's all out of options, because you're right. All of this is so fucked up, and it makes her insides burn because she's hurt, and you're hurt, and it feels like there's nothing she can do to fix it.

She does the only thing she feels will work. She kisses you.

It's filled with everything. Passion, longing, happiness, sadness, anger, everything that had been pent up between the both of you is poured into the kiss, and it's enough to make you feel dizzy.

But you don't pull away, you melt into her, just like you always do. She feels it too, feels the way you let you defenses down, taking it as a chance to tug your wrists up and around her neck, her own arms resting on your hips as she pulls you closer, her lips working against yours.

"Im....fuck...im so sorry, baby....never meant to hurt you" She mumbles against you, her words coming out as a breathy sigh against your lips, making you moan softly against her. She pushes her tongue into your mouth, giving your waist a soft squeeze.

"M'sorry too..Ellie....shouldn't have left..." You whine against her, and she's quickly shaking her head, gently tugging you up to stand with her before she's pulling you too your bed.

"Just...lemme take care of you..alright" She hums against your lips before she gently pushes you back to lay on your bed, her own body crawling over yours, resting her weight on your body as she goes back to kissing you.

It's so slow, and sensual, and it feels like the entire world is quiet, like you're fading into her, and she's fading into you, and you both are becoming one. It feels so fucking right, and the hole that had been growing in your chest is finally filling up, the essence that is Ellie slowly acting as the medicine that you needed all along.

Ellie rolls over, gripping your hips and tugging you to straddle her waist as she lays back against your bed. Her green eyes eat you up, strong hands already running along your hips and thighs, giving you a squeeze before her hand creeps up your t shirt, pushing it up a bit before it slips under, grasping your boob and massaging it in her hands.

"Fuck...look at you...missed you so much, pretty girl....you can't even imagine.." She sighs softly under her breath, eager hands roaming your body hungrily, as if they've deprived of you for so long, missing the way your skin spilled out from under her hands, always so responsive for her.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch her practically worshiping your body with her hands, a soft whine leaving your lips as you rest your hands on her hips, pushing up her t shirt a bit as your thumbs rub small circle into her pale hips.

Her hands rest on your hips, forcing you to grind down onto her lap, making you whine softly, the feeling her her sweats bunching up right at your core, your cotton pajama shorts leaving much too room to be exposed by her touch.

She sits up, grabbing the hem of your shirt before she tugs it off your body, groaning softly as her lips immediately latch onto your nipple, biting and sucking. You moan softly, arching your back a bit and forcing more of you to her mouth, hands wrapped around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck.

Ellie pushes you back, resting you to lay down before she tugs your pajama shorts and panties off in one go. You promptly spread your legs for her, letting her settle between them, the small gesture making her groan, her strong hands gripping your thighs, grinding against your bare pussy.

"Fuck...such a good girl for me..." she sighs softly against your lips.

You whine, reaching down and tugging at her own pants, fumbling with the waistband of her shorts that hung oh so fucking low.

"Off..wanna feel you.." You moan softly against her, resulting in a soft chuckle from her. She presses one last kiss to your lips before she nods.

"Whatever you want baby...fuck" she mumbles softly under her breath when she pulls back to start tugging her own clothes off, catching a glimpse of your soaking wet pussy and naked body in the dim light of your room.

She looks so fucking desperate, nearly tripping over her sweats as she tugs them off, tossing them somewhere else in your room. It's like she can't get the clothes off quick enough, immediately settling between your legs again once she's naked, groaning softly a the feeling of your pussy against her body.

Her eagerness makes you giggle, and Ellie feels like she's on cloud fucking nine when she hears it, so soft and gentle. She pouts softly, staring down at you while she's already moving to position her pussy over yours, tossing your leg over her shoulder.

"What are you laughing at...hm?" She questions softly, her hips slowly moving against yours as she lets out a soft moan, eyes never leaving yours.

You can barely get the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her slick pussy against yours, clits bumping together in a way that has you nearly salivating.

She chuckles above you, a soft groan following the noise as her lips graze along your calf.

"Thats what I thought...fuck....your pussy is too fuckin good, princess' She moans out softly, her hips moving slowly against yours.

You moan loudly, your hand coming to grip her thigh as you move your hips in tow with hers.

"F-fuck, Ellie....you...that feels so good" you babble out, your other hand gripping the sheets beneath you as she fucks her pussy down onto yours.

Ellie smirks softly as she watches you, watches the way you fall apart beneath her.

"Thats my fuckin girl....you're the only fucking one I need...fuck...." She groans, turning her head a bit to kiss your calf again before her teeth sink into you, biting and sucking your skin, making you moan loudly.

You feel her speed up, hips growing desperate as she chases both hers and your orgasm, making your head spin as your nails dig into her thigh, sure to leave marks in the morning.

"Im....god...Im close Ellie.....fuuuckkkk....dont stop" you gasp out, low, lust filled eyes staring up at her as she continues bullying your pussy with hers, both of your arousal squelching together, making the most explicit noise you've ever fucking heard.

"Come on baby...want you to cum for me...can you do that? Fuck...I feel it too....that's it, pretty girl.." Ellie is babbling too, her lust clouded braun barely uttering words that are comprehensible.

You see her eyes squeeze shut, her moans getting louder and more high pithed, sounding so fucking pretty above you.

You feel like you'll explode, your back arching as the familiar feeling settles in your core, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as you feel your orgasm grow closer.

"A-ah! Ellie!" You scream out as you come undone beneath her.

And she isn't far behind, leaning down and crashing her lips against yours, forcing you to swallow her moans as she cums hard against your pussy, the both of you breathing hard as her hips sputter, pussy sliding around sloppily against yours as she becomes so fucked out, that she loses her rhythm completely.

And just like before, she lays there, on top of you, trying to catch her breath, face tucked against your neck, hands keeping you close, as if you'll disappear in thin air at any given moment.

There's so much going through your head, trying to figure out what it is that happens from here, where you and here go, what steps to take after, all of which come up with blank answers whenever you try to figure out what to do.

You assume she will fall asleep on you as she did before, knock out immediately and leave you to lay there with your plaguing thoughts.

She doesn't, though. You hear a soft hum from her lips, her hands squeeze your waist gently, before she speaks against your neck.

"I love you...so much.." she sighs out, her voice breaking a bit as if shed break down at any given moment.

You aren't sure what you'll do from this point on, but you do know one thing.

You won't run away from Ellie, ever again.

[mercuriians]

I feel like a fic about Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto finding their s/o reading fanfic about them would be hilarious

(You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to <3)

Have a lovely day and thank you if you end up doing this request <33333

a fantasy world

content info — gender neutral! reader, fluffy hq!! drabbles with some crack & hurt/comfort (sounds weird but bear w it, all separate). a teeny tiny bit suggestive in atsumu's part cuz he's a little shit.

word count — 1.9k words.

author’s note — holy HELL this is so late 😭 anon i hope ur still here, i made this pretty long so that's my way of apologizing. im also praying that atsumu is in character because this is only the second time ive written him. anyway, tysm for requesting!! hope u all like this <3

MIYA ATSUMU

your eyes are obstinately glued to your phone, wholly transfixed by the words that were typed across the screen. not a single soul knew about your little hobby and quite frankly, it was likely better that they remained oblivious. you wouldn’t know how to react if anyone found out, but really, there was one particular person who absolutely had to stay unaware.

as it turns out, they were also the very subject of the story you’re currently reading—of course, none other than your sweet, beloved boyfriend, atsumu. not that the term ‘sweet’ was an especially fitting term for him. ooh, that was a sick burn.

now, obviously you loved the boy. atsumu was bold, intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking, and affectionate to the point where osamu and the rest of his team often complained about how shameless he was in front of them. his spirit burned bright with fiery ambition, glimmering red and orange and yellow, and he introduced a kind of light into your life that you had never quite experienced before. at first you were a little wary at first, a little blinded by how much he shone, but because you were just as stubborn as he was, you soon grew used to it.

if anything, you came to learn that atsumu was undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people out there. motivating his peers was like second-nature to him, and even if he didn’t consciously put in the effort to inspire them, he still ended up doing so anyway. his love for volleyball was blatant in its authenticity, in its obsession. so when coupled with his charisma, and, yes, his boyishly good looks, atsumu developed a serious kind of gravitational pull. it was no wonder so many people were drawn in—yourself included.

but, inevitably, something had to be sacrificed. your boyfriend’s devotion to the game often meant that you two didn’t get to spend much time together. if atsumu wasn’t practicing at the gym, then he was either thinking about doing it, on his way to doing it, or—this happens only under the direst of circumstances—recovering from doing it. he was, in every sense of the word, a workaholic.

you were fine with it for the most part, mostly because you had a busy schedule to deal with yourself. if you weren’t doing homework or studying for an upcoming exam for the sake of staying on top of your classes, then you were either fulfilling your duties as a student council member, playing your respective sport, or taking care of things at home.

regardless, there were still times when you wished atsumu was with you. it didn’t matter if he was spewing volleyball jargon, or forcing you to pepper with him, or anything like that. you just wanted to spend time with him, to actually see him and his stupid face and his stupid smile that you want to kiss so badly.

maybe that’s why you’re so zeroed in on the fanfiction you’re reading—to try and make up for what you’ve been deprived of for days on end. a very palpable twinge of sadness tugs at your heart. you push the unwanted sentiment to the depths of your mind, trying to focus on reading the story again.

god, what sentence were you even on? and why was the door suddenly opening—

“hey baby, did ya miss me?”

your soul leaves your body.

before you even have time to think, a shrill scream rips from your throat as you scramble to hide your phone underneath the covers. atsumu's jaw drops, completely and utterly befuddled by your behavior. after a moment he raises his hands in mock surrender. "jeez, darlin', it's just me. your boyfriend, remember?" atsumu says, brow raised. there's a mixture of emotions written across his face—slight concern, palpable amusement, even some suspicion. "what are ya hidin' there on your phone, anyway?"

finally, you seem to find your voice. "n-nothing important," you mumble, clearly and very intentionally avoiding the intensity of atsumu's hawk-like gaze. "i didn't even know you'd be visiting today.. thought you would be busy with practice again."

maybe it's because your boyfriend knows you so well by now, but he catches the hint of bitterness in your tone. his face softens, and he takes one, two, three steps toward you until he's taking up the space on your left. "coach called in sick, so mister perfect decided to just cancel practice for today," atsumu shrugs. you're still somewhat upset, but you can't help but smile at the setter's nickname for his captain—kita shinsuke, the closest embodiment of perfection that anyone's ever seen.

"i'm pretty sure i texted ya that i would be dropping by," your boyfriend adds, glancing over at you. cautiously, you pull out your phone again and open up the messages app. lo and behold, he did in fact text you, but you were too busy with your fanfiction to notice.

your face burns with the weight of your embarrassment.

a small chuckle escapes from atsumu's mouth. "wow, i haven't even done anything and you're already blushin' for me," he teases. you hit his chest halfheartedly, muttering about how mean he's being. you fail to notice the calculating glint in his eyes. you also fail to notice his hand wandering.

a second later, atsumu grins smugly, your phone held securely in his grip.

"what the hell, 'sumu?!" you screech, trying to retrieve the object in vain. "how did you even—"

"i'm good with my hands," he winks, and you don't even have time to scold him for the clear innuendo because he's typing in the password to your phone. all you can do is accept your fate as atsumu discovers the story you were reading.

as expected, he laughs. loudly. it's almost like the laugh he lets out whenever he wins a bet against osamu. you turn away, shame and humiliation gnawing at your chest. there's nothing more you want than to be swallowed by the floor beneath you.

however, when atsumu's laughter dies down a few moments later, you feel him wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "baby," he begins, voice still a little breathless from all his cackling, "why are ya reading this when ya got the real thing right here?"

you look up at him, a confusing mess of emotions swirling within your stomach. "because we don't seem to spend much time together anymore," you admit, lowering your eyes to the ground. "laugh all you want, but these stories are there for me whenever i need them. you probably think it's stupid, or pathetic, or whatever, but.. i miss you, 'sumu."

you close your eyes, preparing to hear another round of thunderous laughter. it never comes.

"open yer eyes for me, babe," atsumu's voice is unexpectedly soft, tender. hesitantly, you do, and your gaze meets his. your boyfriend reaches out, resting a calloused hand against your cheek. his touch is so familiar, so comforting, that you can't do anything else but lean in and welcome it. "i didn't know that ya were feelin' this way, and i'll admit that it's my fault for not noticing. but hey, you wanna know somethin'?"

"what is it?" you whisper.

"i miss ya too," your boyfriend confesses. he leans in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. "and tomorrow, i'm taking ya out on a date."

OIKAWA TOORU

"oh my god, this is so cute," you sigh dreamily, swinging your feet in satisfaction as you indulge yourself. it was fanfiction, for crying out loud—can you really be blamed? this particular story practically reeked of fluff. you had just received flowers from the male lead, with you two having confessed just a few days ago. now you were on the first date, entering the doorway to a beautiful relationship that made every reader jealous.

the fact that the male lead—the infamous setter of aoba johsai, fanboy of iwaizumi hajime, hater of ushijima wakatoshi—also happened to be your boyfriend was just a minor detail.

you continued reading, the outside world completely irrelevant as you immersed yourself in the story. soon another squeal leaves your lips as oikawa, the male lead, bends down to kiss your hand. he says something swoonworthy, causing you to giggle like a madman. "that's it, i'm marrying you," you say, as if he can hear you through the story.

"marrying who?"

you let out a defeated sigh as your boyfriend pops his head into your room. there's a pout on oikawa's face, his mocha eyes filled with mock betrayal. still there's a part of you that knows he actually is a little bit jealous; he just doesn't know that technically, he's jealous of himself. "who are you marrying, babe?" he asks you somewhat accusingly. "i think it's a bit too early for—"

"shut up please," you groan, a bit sad that your reading session got interrupted. "i'm reading this fanfiction of you, and in the story, you're actually nice to me."

you immediately hear an indignant gasp from your boyfriend. he puts a hand to his chest, his pout now even more prominent. "excuse me, i am nice to you," oikawa scoffs as he walks over, squinting at the story you're reading. "i'm way better than him!"

"you are him," you deadpan.

"exactly! why are you reading that when i'm right here? i'm hurt," oikawa says in disapproval, shaking his head at you. "now move over."

you blink—once, twice. "wait, what?"

"i wanna read too," oikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "so i can list all the things they got wrong about me."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

maybe reading fanfiction about your boyfriend wasn't the best idea. it's not that the story wasn't great because it really was—the characterization was on-point, the writing style was smooth and elegant, and the plot was creative. it's more about your boyfriend himself. particularly the way that he reacted when he found out.

"am i not good enough?" bokuto asked you quietly as he stared up at you. his golden eyes were absolutely despondent, his shoulders were slouched, and even his owlish hair looked like it was deflated. you didn't need akaashi to understand that those were all signs of an emo bokuto.

and it was all because of you.

man, the guilt was unbearable.

"koutarou," you say softly, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "baby, you are more than enough for me. you're amazing, okay? you're my anchor, and you make me smile when no one else can. compared to you, this fanfiction means nothing." you pause, placing a tender kiss against his warm cheek. "seeing you sad makes me sad, you know?"

"i'm sorry," bokuto mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "i thought i'd let you down or something, like i wasn't being a good boyfriend. it scared me."

his words make your heart hurt even more. you pull away from the hug, letting your earnest gaze meet his. "from now on, you don't have to be scared," you tell him seriously. "i'll stop reading fanfiction, and every day, i'll remind you of how much you mean to me. is that fair, kou?"

bokuto nods, and it's at that moment that you start to see the gloomy aura around him disappear. "i love you," he says, and you can tell that he means it. he always does.

you pull him closer, your fingers combing through his hair soothingly. he hums quietly, enjoying the feeling. "i love you too, koutarou," you smile. "and no story will ever change that."

you let a few moments pass by, simply listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. slowly, you let your eyes close, your boyfriend's strong embrace lulling you to a light rest. after a few moments, though, bokuto's voice breaks through the silence. "can i ask you a question, babe?"

you open your eyes. "anything."

he pulls away, his expression completely serious as he looks at you. "can we get something to eat?"

[yandere-3-sagau]

Hello! New anon here, idk if you do anything like this but i had an interesting thought the other day!

So yknow how you can name scaramouche right of course

So i named mine,,,,genuinely? Like i went out and looked up names (what can i say im down bad okay) and I found the name ‘Ena’ which means ‘gift from god’ (according to what i found-) or something like ‘blessed life’

So what if in a secret creator!sagau, the reader names him that and he dismisses it at first but then catches the reader having a look (sort of like a sad smile) every time they refer to him as that, so he finally asks what it means and they say its because they see him as being worthy of living. That they see him as a blessing from ���the creator’ and they want him to see himself that way- (like not in a ‘more important than anyone else’ way, just in a ‘you exist therefore you deserve to live’ kinda way)

Idk if you like this but feel free to ignore this if you’re uncomfortable! Tysm for your time!

hehehe do you know that wanderer is my favorite? Quite similarly to you, I took my time searching for a good name. I named him Aziz. It’s an Arabic name and I thought it was fitting since his new beginning began in Sumeru, a place based on the middle east. While Aziz means to be strong and powerful, it also means dear, darling, and precious. If SAGAU were to ever be real, I would want him to know that he is precious and loved. <33

since this ask is about secret creator!reader, i am going to assume that wanderer is still unaware of your identity when you mention the meaning of his name.

Yandere!Wanderer x Secret!Creator!Reader

--

The wanderer didn’t really care for names. He’s had so many throughout the years that he could care less how people addressed him. 

So when the traveler gave him his name, he didn’t really think much of it. After all, it was a name given to him by his former enemy. What special meaning could it have? The traveler never explained it and he never thought to ask.

He kept the name for convenience but rarely ever used it. Many still referred to him as wanderer and he didn’t bother to correct them. There were times he had even forgotten that he had a new name. 

The first time he actually ever cares about his name is the first time he hears it from you. 

The name rolls so casually off your tongue it’s as if you’ve said it a thousand times. The soothing sound of your voice saying the name that belonged solely  to him makes him feel so strange that he doesn’t even realize that he’s never told you his name before. 

Though it sounds foreign at first, he quickly grows accustomed to being called his new name. 

However, every time you call him that name, you have a certain look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite understand. You look at him as if he holds the world in his hands yet it’s accompanied by a sense of sadness. 

Unbeknownst to him, every time you say his name, you’re reminded of his past. You think about how while erasing his previous names, he intended to erase his entire existence along with it and it breaks your heart. 

Though he has trouble recognizing emotions, he can sense your sadness.

Finally, he caves into his curiosity and asks why you always have that look on your face. Why you look like you want to cry whenever that name is mentioned.

“... do you know what your name means?” 

You gaze at him with such soft eyes that he almost forgets to answer.

“No, why?”

“Your name means ‘gift from god’ and ‘blessed life.’”

It takes some time to process, but after finally realizing what the meaning of his name is, the wanderer grows a bit angry. 

Gift from god? Blessed life?

The traveler must be mocking him.

How can he be a gift from god when he was abandoned by his mother, the God of Eternity? and what part of his life is blessed when he’s committed countless sins and all he’s experienced is tragedy. 

Wanderer remains silent but he can feel your gaze on him. Those eyes that to seem to see right though him. 

—

Later on, he approaches the traveler. 

“Why did you name me __?’“

The traveler pauses, surprised by the sudden question. 

“I... don’t know, if I’m being honest.”

Wanderer scoffs. “How can you not know? Are you mocking me?”

“No, I really don’t know. Now that I think about it, it really is quite strange,” the traveler says as they recall the moment the wanderer was named. 

“At the time, the name just slipped from my mouth.” 

“It just slipped from your mouth? You don’t even know what it means?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’ve honestly never heard of the name before.”

Hearing this, the wanderer is a bit offended. It seems such little thought was put into his name. He thinks that maybe you were lying. He searched through many books in the Akademyia for the origin but he couldn’t find anything close to what you told him. 

The next time you call his name, he stops you. He tells you stop using it. Saddened, you ask him why.

“It’s a meaningless name and whatever you claimed it means doesn’t even suit me.”

“What do you mean? I...whoever named you must see you as a gift. Your life is a blessing to them.”

“The person that named me doesn’t even know the meaning.”

You grow quiet upon hearing this. You can’t refute him, unable to explain to him that you were the person to name him. 

You’re heartbroken that he thinks so little of himself. You want nothing more than to tell him that he really is a blessing. That he’s important to you and worthy of living. But you remain silent and he does as well. 

He stops going by that name and decides to go by wanderer instead. He’s confused by your eyes that well up with unshed tears when he asks you call him wanderer instead of the name you had given him. 

It isn’t until you are exposed that he understands.

You are the creator and it was you that bestowed the name upon him while you were living through the eyes of the traveler.

This revelation sparks so many questions. 

Why did you name him that? Do you really see him as a blessing? Does he really mean that much to you?

His heart is hopeful but more and more anxiety fills his being the longer his thinks about it. 

Are you upset that he stopped using his name? Do you think he isn’t proud of it?

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you decided to take it back. But even if you tried, he wouldn’t let you. Suddenly, it’s apart of who he is now - the basis of his identity. Anyone who calls him wanderer now is immediately corrected.

He wants to confront you but he hasn’t seen you since your identity was exposed. You’ve disappeared without a trace, leaving his heart empty.

Nothing but your voice can sooth his aching heart and he can’t rest until finds you.

Until he hears you call his name once more, now that he’s finally able to appreciate it’s meaning. 

[inkskinned]

i only bake when im happy. my grandmother taught me this. she says she has "a stigma" about it. (i say "isn't that the holes in the hands like jesus?" and get, from my father, a not-altogether unexpected back-of-the-head whack). she says that cooking you can kind-of fake. but you can taste if someone put their heart into baking.

i haven't made anything in an oven for over a year.

at first it was just plain grief. i couldn't even eat, much less mealplan. i have a weird thing about food; and can eat the same thing, every day, and be extremely happy about it. then i moved; and the oven here is weird, and i figured - ah, i'll figure it out eventually.

being sad silences such odd parts of your life. it's not like i meant to give up baking. i like baking. i list it in my hinge bio. people who have been friends with me for a while know she bakes. i like to make complicated, artistic things - things that take days to plan and a week to execute properly. my favorite does remain chocolate chip cookies - something about them being so simple and so immediately satisfying.

there are people i met in the last year who don't believe me. you don't cook, they laugh. which, i mean, i guess is true. as we speak, i'm eating something out of the microwave for dinner again. but still. i call one of my new friends and i tell her i saw a recipe for snail pretzels. she laughs and says why would you need that?

it's weird, i guess. i have so many very-very-very good memories, barefoot and dancing in yellow kitchens, humming to old music, my hands around a bowl. why, out of everything, is that what the grief stole? just this sudden, strange ... missing piece. and to be honest; it kind of scares me. because it happened so quietly is the thing. i never meant to stop baking. it just ... kind of happened to me.

i'm in the hard part of therapy - where you have to start feeling things. the whole world opens up and suddenly, everything hurts like you're 19. exciting! i am also, at the same time, and for the first time in my whole life - only beholden to me. any longterm choice i make only impacts my life. my first and only priority is just... me. for a while, the only way i experienced this sensation was to think how blisteringly lonely.

but i cleaned my kitchen today. later i will call nick and we will talk about stupid shit. tomorrow alex and i are binge watching tv. i have finished rearranging my plants today; they span my ceiling in a river of green.

and i think. i think. tonight i'll make cookies. i don't know if i'm happy. but it's just. you know. in the spirit of trying.

[aleenuhs]

bear with me on this request!! Imagine being Arthur's wife and living with John, Abigail and Jack after his passing. Then, after a few days, while everyone is still healing physically and mentally, you discover you're pregnant with Arthur's child. What John and Abigail's reaction would be?

⋆A Time to Be So Small

thank u!

warnings: mentions of death, lots of sadness and happiness, pregnancy mentioned heavily, grief

title is from one of my favorite songs by the band Interpol

not proofread😔

wc: 700

The past week had been one of the hardest you'd ever experienced, Arthur was gone. How lost you felt, how lost everyone felt, because he was just here a few days ago. Now he wasn't, and your mind couldn't comprehend that, that it was real and in fact not a figment of your imagination, or a dream.

So when you learned that you were pregnant, with his child, which you were sure that it was, you were even more broken. You were terrified, how could you introduce a baby into this world without its father?

You couldn't heal in any way when there was a child growing in your body, you couldn't heal knowing that its father wasn't here anymore.

How could you tell John and Abigail this news, how would they take it?

You sat in your room, holding yourself. You knew that the Marston family were good people, good company, they took care of you the way you did the same for them as long as you'd known them. You loved Jack like he was your little brother.

Seeing Abigail be a mother to him, it made you think, how? This baby would be another mouth to feed, clothe and bathe, and a whole lot of responsibility to you and the others. How could you be a mother? Something that you never thought of in your lifetime came so unexpectedly, so quickly.

You almost wanted to cry. The sun rays slipping through the curtains in your room, the sounds of the cattle and horses and other animals that they had. The smell of the flowers which Abigail had always put on the dining table. John wasn't home yet, it was just you Abigail and Jack, then Rufus who was laying right next to you as you sat on the bed.

You missed your husband, truly, and it was all you could think of. When John finally got home, you'd hesitated to walk out of your room. Slowly, your feet padded on the floor when you heard Abigail announce that dinner was ready.

You held yourself, it was all you could do. How you wished that Arthur was there. You wouldn't be so empty if he was. Rufus came out of your room and went outside.

You greeted John and Jack, then Abigail, you sat down at the dinner table and silently thought of everything that could happen at the mention of pregnancy in the middle of everything, how the world would seemingly stop for a moment when you said it.

You let everyone settle in and start eating.

Clearing your throat, you spoke, "I have something... to share." You stammered and immediately got nervous.

John looks up from his food and looks at you, and so do the others.

"Yes?" He speaks.

"Im..." You could hardly speak.

"You're?" Abigail continued, wondering what you were getting at. Jack looks at you, eyeing your terrified expression, which was painfully obvious to the rest sitting there.

"Im pregnant," you feel a certain weight lifted off your shoulders and your hand comes to your chest, looking around for something, anything in their faces.

John is the first to speak after the uneasy silence that filled the air.

"With Arthurs baby?" He asked and you nodded softly. He felt bad, but happy at the same time. Abigail instead gets up and walks around the table, bending down to hug you as you sat in the chair.

She hugged you tightly, she kissed your cheek and then said, "Im so glad, this is great -- this is just... the best news we've received all week." She spoke happily, yet softly.

It made you feel so much better, but without Arthur your emotion felt glued on, fake almost. But you were glad there was support for you, and that was your luck.

"We're happy for you, don't doubt that." John says as he lets on a smile.

"As much as we all wish Arthur was here, there will be a part of him with us." Abigail points to your stomach and rubs it.

"Right." John adds on.

You smile, how lucky you are.

In your head, you knew that this support wouldn't end anytime soon and Abigail would be there for you until this baby comes.

[sporeblossom]

logging back onto this website to say that while i dont think (???) it was intentionally done, the scene before their "last day" where frank is working on a portrait of bill, reminded me of keith haring's "unfinished painting"

comparison here before i explain:

keith haring's painting was purposely made to look incomplete. haring was diagnosed with HIV in late 1988, and died in early 1990, at the age of 31. the painting is a self portrait, hitting us with the gut-punch reality of how the aids-epidemic robbed haring of the right to finish his own story. the overwhelming amount of empty space is a glaring reminder that haring didn't just have a short life, he had an incomplete one. the piece points to all that empty space and says: this should have been filled out. this should all have been my art, my story, and my space. by claiming this empty space, haring claimed the empty space of his unlived life, that was taken from him and so many other people, by a negligent and homophobic society that refused to care about the pandemic ravaging an entire community worldwide.

now back to my original point: like i said, im really not sure if this was intentionally done by the show. but when i was watching this episode and i saw this scene, i immediately thought of this painting. the blue color of the eye trailing off onto the blank part of the canvas is, at least to me, a strong visual parallel.

and i feel like this visual parallel highlights some very important thematic parallels as well, which deserve to be talked about. in the show, the outbreak starts in 2003 which means that bill and frank have both lived through the aids-epidemic. they have seen people like them die. they have experienced the hatred and isolation that came with it. you could speculate and read into things ad nauseaum, but i thinks it's safe to say that in this place and time, this also plays into how careful and hesitant they are, when they first start to show intimacy with each other. in their world, they didn't even get to experience the legalization of gay marriage.

seeing as this show takes place during another, fictional, pandemic, airing at a time where the real world has just faced another actual pandemic, it is impossible to ignore this aspect of their story.

these two characters however, are not destroyed by the outbreak in the show. they find each other, they experience freedom, love, and a full life together. their life is not cut short.

in an absurd twist of fate, when the rest of the world is finally forced to experience what it's like to be abandoned by your government during a devastating epidemic, this is when these two people find happiness. they get to go running, and have fights, and grow strawberries, and have friends over for dinner.

and after spending nearly twenty years together, frank spends his last time working not on a self portrait, but on a portrait of bill, the love of his life. this is the sort of thing that rightfully should have filled the empty space of haring's work. finding love(s) spending your time together, that is a life lived.

and yet frank's painting is unfinished, because of course we are never truly done living. we are never truly done loving. but he got so much more time, so much more story, than the people we lost to the aids epidemic, which the trailing off blue paint reminds us of.

at the same time their house is absolute filled with all the paintings that frank did finish, showing us all the good days he got with bill. and in a way, i feel like that is the show being very aware of what it is: a complete, beautiful story about two men loving each other, in a world that sorely lacks these stories. a world where we had so many unfinished, incomplete lives, that we lack an entire generation of older gay men.

and even though i was completely reduced to tears by the end of this episode, the ending still filled me with some sort of mournful joy. because yes, even though it was incredibly sad to see their last day, these two men got to fill so much of their empty space. they got to experience love, and they got to live their life. like bill says: "im old. im satisfied. and you were purpose."

so many people didn't get that. keith haring didn't get that. a whole generation of queer people didn't get that. that makes this episode so much more moving for me, because it is not just an incredibly beautiful love story, but it is an incredibly beautiful love story that the world should rightfully have seen millions more of. but all those lives were incomplete.

so with the undeniable, but unspoken, presence of the aids epidemic in the narrative of these characters, this visual reference to keith haring and aids, purposeful or not, is incredibly meaningful.

[heartpascal]

please don’t lose it again

— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

— summary: the aftermath

— a/n: i’m replaying tlou2 and got to the scene again. this followed. sorry if the flow isn’t great!! im all over the place. please please please heed warnings. love you so much. not the official ending for itdws!

— warnings: major tlou 2 spoilers, major character death, grief, burying a loved one, loss, spoilers for itdws, throwing up / vomiting (referenced, not really explicit), all the stages of grief in like 3 minutes, guilt, blame, being sad, GORE, or descriptions of gore, and dead bodies

— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being (pedro)

a what if one shot from the if the door wasn’t shut universe!

masterlist (part one , part two , part three , part four , part five )

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The world is full of horrors.

You learned that much a long, long time ago. In your formative years, your youth, when you were actually a child, you had experienced more horrors than you could name. You didn’t have enough hands to count them on. There was loss and there was pain and there was Joel.

There was a brief time, after arriving to Jackson, where you didn’t have Joel. A part of you always knew he would come back. Not for you, that was true, but you had always known that he would be back. That he wasn’t gone in the way so many were. That Tess was. In the very depths of your mind, he lingered. Even if he had left you behind, he was still with you, in the worst of ways.

You have never lived in a world which didn’t have Joel Miller.

He had always seemed untouchable. Unmovable. As if the world could only move around him.

You never thought you would have to live in a world without him.

There was always a certainty that you’d held. Joel would outlive you. He would survive, where you wouldn’t. Despite how you had improved in your skills out in the wild, in the back of your mind, when you saw Joel, you had always believed he would be the one to bury you.

Because even if Joel hadn’t stayed for you, he would surely stay for your death. It was who he was. Always the survivor, always the one to bury the bodies, always the one left.

You had never considered what it would be like to bury Joel.

Even now, as you sit with your hand pressed against the freshly turned earth, frozen at your fingertips, you aren’t sure you really know what it’s like. Because, surely, there’s no way that Joel Miller could be reduced to this. A body in the dirt. A faceless name left upon a headstone, forgotten in a garden of the dead.

He was alive yesterday.

He was alive.

How could they have buried him? You think of the way the dirt has iced over, numbing your fingers. You wonder how much effort had gone into plunging a shovel into the dirt. How much ice had formed on Joel’s skin when they put him in there?

He would be cold, out here. Without the jacket you knew was hung up in his closet. He would be cold.

“C’mon,” Jesse said, faintly. “Put your gloves on.” He tried, crouching beside you, beside Joel, with the very gloves Joel had gotten you held in his hands. Did you thank him, for those? You needed to. You needed to thank him.

You turn your head away from the wooden headstone, the clumsy carving that Joel could’ve done better, the letters spelling his name. If you don’t look, if you turn your face away, or close your eyes, Joel is still out on patrol. He’s wearing his jacket, holding his gun, pressing a warm hand against his hip in his signature pose. He’s not cold.

But when you turn back, it’s still his name. The ground is still frozen, and as much as you press your hand against the dirt, Joel doesn’t reach towards you. Joel doesn’t do anything. Joel stays buried underneath frozen dirt, underneath snow and ice. Joel stays cold.

Jesse’s hand is warm when he grips your own, his stare concerned and helpless. You wonder what would have happened if it had been you on patrol. If you were the one taking Joel and Tommy off duty. You wonder if you could’ve saved him. You pull your hand away.

He follows you when you stand up.

When you look back, Joel’s headstone blends in with the others. There’s nothing remarkable setting it apart, nothing screaming that it was Joel and he had been alive yesterday.

You wonder who the other headstones belong to. You wonder if anybody remembers them. You wonder why nobody is here, visiting. You wonder if Joel’s grave will end up the same way.

Vaguely, you notice that you’re counting. As you walk, you count the crunch of snow beneath your boots. There are thirty-three steps from Joel’s grave to his door. Thirty-three measly steps between his home, and where his body is buried. Did he know, yesterday, when he was drinking his morning coffee — the coffee you had brought him — that he would spend the rest of time buried thirty-three steps away? Did he have any idea that he would never come home? That he would always be thirty-three steps away?

Tommy is stood in the house when you walk in. His head is bruised, blood still crusted on his skin, and you wonder what happened. You wonder how this could have happened. He doesn’t look like the same man who had once walked on a patrol with you, gun raised, vigilant in every movement. If they let Tommy live, if they let Ellie live, why did they kill Joel? Why did they stop him from coming home?

It’s not long until you realise that you have nobody to ask about Tess. Tommy had long ago told you everything he could remember, most of which was corrected by Joel. Is there anybody left in the world who knew her? Anybody left who would ask about her?

Will it just be you, until your death, who remembers Tess? Who remembers Joel? After you, Tommy and Ellie are gone, who will know him? Who will remember him? Who will put flowers on the grave in which they buried him?

You wonder how long it will be until people wonder about his grave, as you had with the others. How long it will be until he’s forgotten.

What’s going to happen to his pictures? The photographs of Joel and Sarah? Of him and Ellie? Of you and him? Who is going to understand each of these pictures? Who is going to know what was happening in each? How many memories are gone, now that Joel is dead?

“Kid, I…” Tommy trails off, eyebrows furrowed.

Joel is dead.

He’ll never finish the supply of coffee you gave to him. He’ll never complete the guitar he was making for you. He’ll never finish reading your favourite book. He’ll never receive the new mug you’d made for him. He’ll never do anything. Because Joel Miller is dead, and he’s buried thirty-three steps away.

How do you fix that?

How do you tell Joel that you’ll forgive him for ever leaving, that you’ll forgive him for everything, if he just comes back? If this time, he comes back to you. How will he know that things could go back to normal? That you’d— you would do anything. You would bring him all the coffee you found. You would watch every shitty movie he wanted. You would make him every damn mug he asked for. You would forget about him ever leaving at all. You would go back to normal. To before he left, but better.

All he had to do was come back again. That was it.

He just had to prove that it wasn’t him they buried. That the disfigured body they’d brought back to Jackson wasn’t him. That he wasn’t the one who’d had his head caved apart. Joel had proved things that had been far crazier. Surely, for you, he’d be able to prove this.

He would come through the door, all amused grins and warm jacket, and he would walk the thirty-three steps to his grave and tear the headstone with his name on from the ground. He would make fun of Tommy for ever believing it to be him, and he’d make a better gravestone, the name — which wasn’t Joel Miller — carved on neatly, more clearly.

Joel Miller was a survivor. He had to survive.

You aren’t quite sure what you’ll do if he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says eventually, finally finding his words, and the look on his face reduces your denial to ash. You look at him, trying to find the similarities between him and the mess of the body that had truly been Joel. You find nothing. No resemblance between the body and Tommy. It makes it all the more difficult to believe that he’s dead. You’re not quite sure what Tommy is apologising for. Was it his fault? Did he goad that—that girl into cracking Joel’s skull? Into spilling his blood out of his veins? Into leaving him there like that? Like a body, not a human being?

Jesse says your name, gently, as if your skull would cave if he spoke it any louder. You realise that you’re standing here, in Joel’s house, in the very place that you had drank tea and coffee and whiskey with him, and you have no reason to be here. There’s no Joel to make you a terrible cup of tea, or to play his guitar while you carve at his workshop desk. There’s no Joel, and all of Tommy’s apologies won’t change that.

“I didn’t—” You cut yourself off, finding that you can’t speak any further, lest your throat go dry and your eyes get wet. And really, the words you had gotten out are enough. You didn’t.

You didn’t save him. You didn’t give him that god forsaken mug. You didn’t take him dinner. You didn’t tell him how much you appreciated him. You didn’t tell him that you loved him. You didn’t tell him that he was your dad when nobody else was. You didn’t forgive him.

“It’s okay.” Jesse tells you, and he believes it, obvious in his arms as they wrap firmly around you. Obvious in the way he holds your head, in the way he breathes. But it’s not. It’s not okay.

How could it be okay? You want to yell at him. You want to scream at him that Joel is dead, that it’ll never be okay. You want to do something, anything, but there’s nothing you can do. It wouldn’t matter. Joel would still be dead, and still, nothing would be okay. But you can’t do anything. You can’t vocalise a thing, except for what becomes a choked sob as it leaves your throat.

This is the first time that you cry.

And even though Jesse squeezes you tighter, as if he could possibly put your pieces back together, you fall apart. Once it starts, it doesn’t seem to stop.

There’s an acceptance here. Tears wash away any hint of denial, and you’re left with a reality you can’t help but accept. A reality where Joel Miller is dead, and you will never see him again. The arms around you will never be Joel’s. He’ll never teach you to play a new song on the guitar he was making you. He can’t hear the way you cry, even if you scream and yell and call out for him.

For once, you can’t feel him lingering in the back of your head. As if his absence has removed him from you. It feels like losing him all over again.

You didn’t see Tess’s dead body. Now, you’re glad. If there had been anything left of her to see, anyway. But you had seen bodies before. Mostly of Infected. Or of raiders and hunters who were often shot and killed, sometimes when you were the one shooting. Either way, you’re not used to remembering them as being so… still.

When you close your eyes, forcing the tears to fall, you see him. You see the flashes of skull and soggy brain tissue and smears of blood. And he’s still. You think that you’re so used to seeing Infected people that this just… wasn’t natural.

And to think of that body as Joel? It was even more unnatural.

“C’mon,” Jesse urged once more, voice a murmur in your ear as he tightened his arms around you. “Let’s get you home.” He said, moving to leave.

It was wrong. You didn’t want to leave. It was making you feel all wrong, like there was a constant chill sending shivers down your spine. How could he ask you to leave? How could he ask you to leave when Joel had never come home? Who was going to wash Joel’s mug — the one you had made, that he had stolen — of coffee that he’d left on the side? Who was going to make his bed? Who was going to clean the dirty dishes Joel inevitably would’ve left on his dining table?

Joel wasn’t coming home. So who would do it? How could you leave it like this?

“Kiddo,” Tommy sighed, stepping towards you and taking hold of your hands as Jesse dutifully stepped back, expression creased. He looked tired, more than anything. He looked his age. Tommy blinked, looking up towards the ceiling as if holding back tears, and squeezed your hands in his. “Please, don’t… Go home, okay? I’ll send Maria by. And we’ll—we’ll talk later. Alright?”

It was hard to face the fact that Tommy didn’t want you here. It was incomprehensible. How could you be anywhere else but here? How could he want you anywhere else but here?

How could he expect you to go home? To go back and see that stupid mug you’d almost finished? That Joel would never see? All because you had insisted upon it being a surprise. Insisted that he couldn’t see it until you were done. And now he would never see the mug that matched his own, a slightly better looking owl painted upon its side? The size of it just a smidge smaller than Joel’s own?

He had been complaining that you always had to use the shitty old mug with a football logo on the front. You wanted to surprise him with a mug which matched his own. A sign of your bond. A symbol of your trust, your forgiveness.

Things hadn’t been the same since he left you, all that time ago. Both of you had known it. It was almost tangible, every time you saw one another. But you were getting better. You were seeing him at least once every week, which was improvement from the sporadic visits that’d been occurring last year.

You were all he’d had, after he and Ellie had fallen out.

You, perhaps better than anybody, knew that isolation. You knew how cold it could get. You wonder whether or not he would have even been on that patrol, had you not declined his offer of dinner, in favour of working on the mug.

It was a bitter feeling that bloomed as you pulled away from Tommy. An ugly, rearing feeling that was biting at your throat, and the only thing that stopped you from falling to your knees was Jesse. You wanted to be angry at Joel. You wanted to be able to scream and cry at him, to scold him for leaving you once more, even after he had promised he would never do it again.

And you know it wasn’t his fault. You know that he wouldn’t have chosen this. You do know that. But who else can you blame? Tommy, who is grieving the same as you? Jesse, who had done nothing but support you since you had known him? Ellie, who had no choice but to helplessly witness his death? And there was the girl, of course, Abby, Tommy had said to Jesse. But she seemed… inconceivable. A figment of imagination. After all, Joel was the strongest person you knew. What could have taken that away? Who?

It’s not fair. None of it is fair.

Abby had taken so much from you, and you know from the state of his body, that she hadn’t done it quickly. You feel sick.

Jesse is rubbing your back as you kneel on the snow, the shock of the cold seeping through your trousers bringing you to reality. You hadn’t even noticed leaving Joel’s house.

In the corner of your eye, you can see all of the flowers that people left for Joel. It doesn’t help. These flowers, too, will be cold. They’ll be cold and they will die and then Joel’s porch and garden will be covered in flowers just as dead as he is.

And all of the notes will be left unread, because Joel Miller is dead, and he is not coming home.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

if the door wasn’t shut taglist: @sleepylunarwolf @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @mandowhatnow @aphrcdites @doodlebob-mp3 @rrickgrrimes8 @nikt-wazny-y @fallenoutofrose @wrathofcats

[stealingyourbones]

Hey Bones, I saw your thing about a Bat family member becoming a ghost and it reminded me of a very heart breaking au a friend and I came up with a while back that I don't remember if I submitted or not. Either way, be prepared to have your heart broken.

Tim is dead. He's been dead for a while actually. But No one seems to have noticed. He looks and feels just as solid as he did before he died, even if he's got a lower body temperature and doesn't seem to get hurt on patrol beyond bumps and bruises. Never anything that would land him in med Bay, never anything that would make his family check on him.

No one has noticed the way he doesn't eat anymore, or the fact he doesn't sleep. He's extended his patrol hours and cut back on time at Wayne Enterprises. He's pretty sure not even Alfred noticed. He knows the Kryptonians aren't worried about him not having a heart beat and they have no reason to tell anyone. They know he has a special device that can hide him from their senses and tests it on Kon a lot to make him focus on spacial awareness beyond his hearing. He used it a lot before he died. They just think he hasn't turned it off in a while.

Tim remembers how he died. Not fully, but there are pieces. He remembers he was fighting someone on a bridge and he didn't call for back up because he thought he could handle it. He doesn't remember who he thought he could handle. He remembers something stinging his arm. A bug? No a bug couldn't bite through Kevlar, it was a needle. Then everything started going dark and he was stumbling back. His back hit something hard and he tiped over it. He thought he could land on the other side. He remembers wondering why his suit felt so damp and heavy as the world went black around him.

Tim's body is still at the bottom of the bay where it will likely stay forever with so, so many other bodies. It makes Tim wonder, why him? Why not everyone else who ended up down there? Why not everyone who has died in Gothem? Did he come back like Jason did, is it something to do with being a vigilante? Tim checks his own pulse again while he's alone. Yep. Still dead. He continues on his patrol and tries to shove those thoughts away.

So what if Tim's dead? He's still here and he still has work to do. His family is full of detectives. If they can't figure out that something as important as death has happened to one of their own? Well then Tim thinks they need to pay more attention. He ignores the pain that curls in the back of his mind at that thought.

It's been 6 months. Why hasn't anyone noticed? Tim can't help but wonder if they ever will.

Howdy its me @bonebrokebuddy answering. I'm Twone's (twin bones) twin who is helping answer asks because this fucker has like, over 100 of them in her ask box and I help her with making prompt ideas frequently so she trusts me to not horribly fuck up her account.

This is my first answer for her I've written because I had my screen on low brightness and on darkmode, so your profile jump scared the shit out of me when I scrolled past it. Therefore im answering this one first.

Anywho, from my chronic inability to write angst here goes: Tim died, came back and none of the Bats seemed to care. So what? It's not like his best friends hadn't done the same thing. And he was tired and sick of the Bats thinking his entire life revolved around them.

So he packed up his bags and headed to Kansas.

The Bats might not be worried but neither was Kon or Bart. They're actually thrilled after getting over their initial grief that Tim now has also personally experienced death and came back. The funeral was a rather small, breif, and quiet afar. Kon made sure to help locate Tim's corpse and Bart helped with the eulogy (surprisingly heartfelt and moved them all to tears.)

Sure, they're sad that Tim died but he's right in front of them, it's a little more difficult to morn when you've been laughing at said dead guy who got stuck halfway through phasing out of the wall. And now Tim can keep track with them!

Kon is a little pissed that Tim can now go intangible and escape his TTK so he can't take away Tim's coffee anymore. But it's kinda worth it. The first time he took Rob on his favorite flight path, he's never wanted anything else than to hear Tim's breathless laugh and see his frighteningly perfect smile again. They now often go on flights together, high above the clouds with no-one else but them for thousands of miles around. (it almost felt like a date)

Bart knew this would happen one day. He was from the future, of course he knew that Tim Drake, formerly Red Robin, died at age 19 and changed his alias to The Grey Ghost. It doesn't mean that Bart doesn't morn the passing of his friend. Tim means a lot to him and the brief guilt that he did not stop Tim's death also quickly passes. He can finally show Tim that hiding space in the walls that no one else can get to without phasing through the wall! One other thing. Bart is unsure if Kon has noticed yet, which he knows Kon isn't the most observant of the old young justice crew but he has to have noticed it by now. Ever since Tim left Gotham he's developed an insane appetite despite claiming that he didn't need to eat while in Gotham and also being dead so why does he need to eat? (Unknown to Bart, Kansas doesn't have as much ambient ectoplasm as Gotham and Tim is starting to experience the withdraw symptoms. If the trio don't realize how to fix Tim's worsening symptoms soon, Tim might actually die for good this time.)

[thecapricunt1616]

Blue Lotus - SxC One-Shot

♡ O/S Inspo: Blue Lotus - In Vedic Hindu tradition, the lotus represents enlightenment as well as purity. It is the symbol of the consciousness rising out of the mud of Maya and attaining its original nature or self-realization. 

♡ Summary: Carmen accidentally almost checks out of life permanently due to a migraine fucking up his vision, and Sugar flips & sends him off to a trauma rehabilitation center, Syd is realizing she finds it extremely hard to stay away from him.

♡ W/C: 7,616

♡ Posted Date: 04/06/2024

♡ A/N: This is my first SydCarmy fic aaa!!! I have a hard time writing in 3rd unless its not my characters, so writing in 3rd for them was okay! This OS is all thanks to the LOML - the person who FULLY turned me into a #SydCarmy4Lifer - @gingergofastboatsmojito - This fic was HEAVILY - heavily, inspired by hers - Tucson, It can be found right ❀ here ❀ - My only request is you go read hers if you are going to read this one!! Her SydCarmy fics are the best, and the only ones I really read, give her a follow because her SydCarmy theories are also out of this world. Also, YES GINGER - Stardust is .... a horse - ol' girl TOLD THEM she'd always be watching!! If you'd like to meet Madame in her human form, mosey on over here - this fic also heavily inspired me to write for SydCarmy hahaha. If y'all want more of Blue Lotus let me know! I have ideas for a PT 2 if it would fancy anyone :)

♡ Warnings for BTC: Accidental OD , Vomit, Sad Syd, but fluffy kinda!! Only lightly edited (we die like men), OC Carmy (IM SORRY) we all know he's down bad for her so maybe this can be considered IC Carm, because were just in his head more then watching him? But that's all basically.

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Carmen was sick as a dog. Well - physically- the mental demons never stopped nagging at his overall happiness level, but it had been a long time since he’d felt this horrible, physically speaking, at least. 

His muscles were aching, to the point any brush on his skin left a dull pain in its wake. His throat was swollen and sore, he had a terrible fever- his head felt like it was so full of pressure that it would explode. 

He’d never experienced a headache like this before. His vision was actually spotty, there were little blotches in his vision, that were... glowing? He wasn’t quite sure, it was beyond the realm of anything he’d ever felt or seen before. 

That was what must have caused him to grab his black bottle of oxydose he’d gotten after a root canal he had a few months back- rather then his liquid Zyrtec cold and flu liquid medicine. 

The pain in his head was so bad, he didn’t even question why the usual cherry flavor had been replaced with bubblegum, as he swallows straight from the bottle, before putting the cap back on and going back to the couch, collapsing in the nest of pillows and blankets. 

It was only about 10 minutes, and Carmy was feeling fine- no…Carmen was feeling… amazing. 

His limbs all felt very heavy, but he felt warm, and comfortable. As comfortable as he’d ever felt. He actually found himself thinking ‘have I ever felt this good?!’ And before he knew it, he was laughing to himself about how he should double dose cold medicine more often, because he felt as if he was on cloud fucking nine. 

He laid back on the couch, closing his eyes, and wasn’t sure just how long he laid there that way. It could have been minutes, hours, days for all he knew. The only thing he was thinking of, was her. He began wondering what she was doing right now, if she was adorably leaned over the counter, writing in her little notebook- her braids cascaded over her face like a beautiful beaded curtain. 

If the blood in his arms hadn’t been replaced with cement, he’d have grabbed his phone and called her, and poured out his entire heart to her. Because nothing else in the world right now mattered. Carmen had no other thoughts, the past didn’t exist, nor did the future. The only thing that existed in this world at this very moment, was Sydney. 

‘Psssst’ 

Carmen opens his heavy lids, just barely, his vision was blurry and almost doubled. “Mmm?” He hums, not even sure if he heard someone- or why he would hear someone. He lived alone, and didn’t hear anyone come in. 

‘Yo. Dipshit.’ Carmen knew that voice anywhere. 

“What?” Carmy looked around, and knew something was very amiss, when his brother was standing there in his living room, looking at him. He had this ethereal glow to him. 

“What the fuck” Carmen said, sitting back on the couch, rubbing his eyes.  

‘You’re nodding out right now. Here’s what y’gonna do.’ 

Carmen couldn’t do anything but nod his head obediently, was Mikey really here? He couldn’t be- he was hallucinating. 

“Monkey are you here?” Carmen asks softly, rubbing his eyes again to see if he would disappear. He didn’t. 

‘I’m as here as you’ll be if Y’don’t listen. Crawl to the fucking bathroom and throw up. She’s gonna be here f’you, don’t fight her’ 

Before Carmy could look back at him and question what he meant - he was gone. 

Carmen suddenly felt…much too hot. He tried getting up, but narrowly missed bashing his skull on the coffee table trying to get to the bathroom, so he decided to take his wise older brother's advice and crawl there instead. 

He didn’t finish the journey, though. He actually collapsed in the bathroom a few feet in front of the toilet, luckily on his stomach. 

He was catching all sorts of luck today, because Syd had insisted she go and check on Carmy, as he was supposed to be at work today but hadn’t said a word- and that was nothing like him. 

She got the extra key from Nat, and told her she would go check because ‘Pregnant women have by nature weaker immune systems’ and would blame herself if she ‘let Carmen get her sick’, so she convinced Sugar to let her go by herself. 

When Sydney had opened the door, the first thing that greeted her was loads of empty Gatorade bottles on the coffee table near the couch, and a random French cooking show playing on the tv. 

“Carm?” She calls, but when she saw one of his feet sticking out from the bathroom, she dropped her bag and ran, gasping when she saw him splayed out there in a puddle of vomit, looking sickly pale, with dark blue lips and fingertips. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO YOURSELF!” She shrieked, getting him on his side as fast as she could and quickly pushing the emergency button on her phone, putting the call on speaker and setting it to the bathroom counter. 

“Carmen? CARMEN! Wake up!” She slapped his arm, shaking him violently. “Carmen! Oh- oh god.” She said nervously. 

‘911 do you need fire, medical, or police?’ The woman at the other end says. 

“Medical! Medical my friend- oh god Carmen” she shakes his shoulders. 

“Okay what’s your emergency?” The operator asks 

“Uhh- I- he’s- so he’s thrown up, he’s passed out, his pulse is weak- he- his lips- t-they’re blue. oh Carmy” she touches his cold clammy forehead. “He- he’s- he’s cold oh my god why is he COLD can you fucking send someone Jesus Christ!” Sydney snaps angrily. 

“Okay- it sounds like he is having an opioid crisis ma’am, do you have narcan available?” The operator asked her and Syds heart drops. 

“No- what? No! He- he wouldn’t- his brother- he…get here!” She said frantically and quickly told her the address of Carmen’s apartment complex.

“Yes, yes you’re calling on an Iphone, ma’am - we have your exact coordinates. Just in case - do not try to make him throw up more, make sure his airway is clear- what is your name?” The woman asked her. 

“Sydney- my name is fucking Sydney - but it doesn’t matter! He matters! My god! His name is Carmen- C-Carmen fucking Berzatto! Put that in your notes lady! He- he’s 31- where the fuck is the ambulance?!” She uses all of her strength to get him leaned up against the counter. 

His vomit was getting everywhere, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t find a way to care, the only thing that mattered to her was that each breath Carmy was taking looked more and more difficult. 

“They are en route! Remain calm, how long have you known this friend?” The Operator tried to distract Sydney, since there was only so much you could do for an OD patient if there was no narcan. 

“He- he’s my…my partner we run a restaurant together. This doesn’t matter! Save him. Please! I can’t loose him!” She said, shaking his shoulders. 

“Carmen! You fucking asshole! What did you do!!!” She shouts at him. “You would never do this! What did you do!!!” She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, it didn’t matter though- Carmen wasn’t awake to see it. 

No, Carmen was far, far away. Somewhere floating between life and death, he felt like he was being embraced in the warmest most comforting hug he’d ever felt, he’d never been more comfortable in his life. 

But Syd, was in hell. Her own personal version of it. It felt like a lifetime before 2 paramedics came barreling into the bathroom, one of them holds Carmys head steady and the other sprays a full dosage of narcan in his nose. 

Sydney stood in the corner near the shower, shaking hands cupping her face absolutely terrified. 

Carmen was up now, nearly the second the paramedic hit the plunger release. He sits up with a gasp, eyes wide like a caged animal. 

“What the fuck.” He mumbles, looking at both of them before meeting eyes with Syd. 

“Syd?” He blinks a few times. 

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding “you asshole” she grumbles, wiping her teary eyes. 

“You’re home, you’re safe, you overdosed. Do you take opioids often?” The paramedic asked, putting a blood pressure cuff around Carmen’s arm. 

“What? No- what the fuck don’t touch me!” Carmen snaps, ripping off the cuff and whipping it across the bathroom “stop- stop! Stop touching me- get away” he shouted angrily “I’m fine” he hissed. 

“CARMEN!” Sydney barks, she’d never used that tone with him- so it was fair to say it very quickly got his attention. 

“You will let them do their job, dick. I just- I- I find you in a puddle of your own vomit on the bathroom floor- I couldn’t wake you up! So now? you’re gonna listen to them.” She said angrily, grabbing the blood pressure cuff from next to her leg where it fell and handing it back to the paramedic.

“Give him your arm.” She snipped. 

Carmen sits back against the bathroom wall like a dog being scolded, wordlessly offering his arm to the paramedic and keeping his gaze fixed on his lap. 

“192 over 96” the paramedic told the other. 

“Christ kid” the paramedic said, “gave you a fuckin dose of narcan and y’wired like y’re on coke” they helped him up and on the gurney. 

“Hes- he’s gonna be okay?” Sydney asked anxiously, watching as they buckled him in by his hips and legs. 

“He's gonna be fine in a day or so.” One of them responded. Carmen just looked away, the shame and embarrassment already looming over his mind like a huge storm cloud. 

“I’m gonna…I’ll- I’ll clean up, and meet you at the hospital, ok? And I’ll have sugar meet you” she told Carmen and went over, giving him a hug. 

He couldn’t understand. It made him slightly angry how sweet she was being to him. He was putting her out, he was fully fucking up her whole day- but all she was worried about was him. 

“Syd..I’m fine. Thanks. But I’m fine. Don't- just…ugh no- please- I’ll do it. Just go- go home. take the day” He said, gently patting her back. 

He wanted to throw his arms around her and never let go, he wanted to kiss her- he wanted to hold her and tell her he would never leave her again. He wanted to tell her he loved her. 

But he didn’t. He wouldn’t, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would, or could for that matter, since he didn’t even realize yet that was what the feeling in his heart really meant. 

“Thank god. Thank god you’re fine, Carm. What would I do without the biggest pain in my ass?” She teased. 

Even though Carmen was hurting all over in a way he didn’t realize was possible, his lungs were aching, as was his entire body, and he felt as if the pressure behind his eyes were going to make them pop out - he smiled. It was slight, of course. But it was there. 

“Couldn’t get rid’a’me if y’tried, Syd.” he told her. 

The ride to the hospital was Carmen’s nightmare. They insisted on the stupid flashing lights and sirens, since his blood pressure was ‘dangerously high’ so he was at risk for a heart attack, and then rolling him out on a stretcher in front of all his neighbors was nothing short of a god damn dumpster fire. 

He was never home, but like hell he’d ever intentionally show his face during the day again. 

The hospital was even worse, he got plugged in to all these monitors and had an oxygen mask, got poked and prodded with needles, and was told he was being put on a 24 hour psych hold per hospital policy after an overdose- just in case he’d been trying to end his own life. 

Sugar got there shortly after the nurses had finally let him be, when he heard her loudly telling them “CARMEN! BERZATTO! Like bear! B-e-r-z-a-t-t-o!!! Where IS HE !” He ripped off the oxygen mask, knowing if she saw him that way he’d never live it down. 

Even though it really was helping ease the ache in his lungs and the pain in his head, he was willing to deal with it for his very pregnant sister not to worry. 

Her heels click as she storms down the hall to his room, ripping the curtain back. 

“Oh- Bear” she said, bursting into tears and rushing up to him, hugging him tightly. “Oh my god, bear. Never do that! What did you do? No- no- you aren’t in trouble, you aren’t in trouble, Carmen. I love you. You just worried me! You made Sydney cry Carmy! What the fuck- what happened?” She cupped his cheeks, observing his exhausted face. 

“Oh you’re sick- you’re so sick- Carmy” she felt his forehead and cheeks with the back of her hand like she did when they were kids. “It was an accident, right, right Bear? You wouldn’t do this?” She said, more pleading him than asking.  

“No. No. No sug, no- I- I’d never. I just fucked up! I’m fine. I’m fine. C’mere” he hugs her close, kissing her head gently. “Stress isn’t good for the baby bear” he joked, hoping it would get her to lighten up. 

“Carmy stop” she pushed away, looking at him seriously. “No. No. This isn’t okay- nothing - nothing about this is okay, bear! You almost died! Syd said- “ she shook her head. “Carmy. I- we can’t do this. We can’t. You’re right.” She sniffled, sitting back in the chair next to his hospital bed and wiping her tears. 

“What- what do you mean?” He sat up a bit. 

“I- if you….i can’t watch you like this anymore, Carmy. I can’t- I can’t see you wither away. Fucking emotionally anymore. It’s killing me. It’s hurting-“ she took a shaking breath. 

“It’s hurting your niece. Carmen. I can’t do it anymore. here.” She dug around her purse, pulling out a brochure. 

“Go- go. Get out of fucking Chicago, Carm. This place- I-i heard of it” she sniffled “its stupid-“ she laughed a bit, shaking her head. “So stupid, fuckin this..this Astrologer. She said in her podcast that this is the best place to go based on the location? I dunno…it’s a therapy place” she said. 

Carmen looked at the Brochure, his brows raising. 

‘Blue Lotus Trauma Therapy Rehabilitation Center’ the front contained photos of absolutely breathtaking pine trees, mountains, as well as red cabins. 

‘Blue Lotus is tucked safely away on Big Bear Lake in Big Bear, CA. Come and experience an inpatient by day, outpatient by night 30 day program, along with 15 days of sole inpatient TF-CBT therapy, focused on your direct needs as a patient. We specialize here at Big Bear in Equestrian Therapy, and Cattle Therapy. Enjoy hiking on hundreds of miles of breathtaking trails, and get to know the stunning haven that is Big Bear, California.’ 

“Horses.” Carmen looks at her, unwavered. 

“Yes! They say they like- get us or something? You’ll be back before I give birth. Go. Carmen. Go. Or- or I can’t work there, anymore it-“ she shakes her head, looking down at her swollen belly as hot thick tears stream down her cheeks. “It’s like watching Michael…again. In a different way” she said quietly, wiping her face and looking up at him once again. “Please.” She whispered. 

He shook his head, setting the stupid brochure down on the bedside table and laying back in the bed, grabbing the oxygen since his head was beginning to pound again and putting it back over his face, averting her worried gaze. 

“I don’t have the energy to call these people” he muttered, closing his eyes and resting his head back, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. 

“I- I already got you a bed. I called them…on the way over- I begged them. And they are willing to take you, Carmy. Please. I’ll pick your cabin and everything - you- you stay in a cabin after the 15 days and then for 30 you go back and forth. It sounds so nice, bear. I know they’re gonna take such good care of you think about it- please- will you go?” she got up, pulling him into a hug. 

“Thank you” she whispered after a few moments when he didn’t decline her. 

Carmen didn’t reply. If Sugar really thought that stupid place would make him ‘change’ (if that was even possible) and if she really felt as if it was affecting her child that was growing inside of her- he would give it a try. Even though he felt as if it would be just another money pit in the name of ‘mental health’ that didn’t do a thing. 

“There’s dead man walkin’!” Richie said, Syd following in behind him. 

“Stop! Don’t call him that Richie it was scary!” Syd shoves his shoulder. 

Carmen grabbed the brochure, quickly tucking it under the blanket. 

“Fuck you, cousin” Carmy said, his voice all nasally and low from his flu or whatever the fuck he’d picked up, that had led him to giving himself a cocktail of meds that almost sent him to Michael prematurely by total mistake. 

“Carmen is leaving. As soon as he’s released. So- get your time in he won’t be home for a month or two” Sugar said and sat down, not budging on the issue. 

Carm just rolled his eyes, laying his head back and wanting to melt into a puddle on the floor, but at the same time, he also wanted to pull Syd into the stupidly small hospital bed, and hold her to him, never letting her go. 

“You are?” Syd asked, coming to his bedside and meeting his gaze. 

He just stared at her. Wordlessly, he pulled out the crumpled brochure and offered it to her. She took it, looking at it. Richie comes over as well, peeking over Syd’s shoulder to read. 

“Equestrian therapy? Gonna go play with some horsies Carm?” He teased, his smugness being wiped off his face when Syd stomps on his foot with most of her weight, causing him to whine in pain. 

“Woops! Maybe you should learn some personal fucking space asshole” she shoved back in to him so he would take a few steps back. 

“Ow!” He said dramatically, plopping next to Sugar who was also glaring at him with equal fire. 

“Okay- okay- sorry fuckin hell. The kid is fine” he said and Carmen motions to him. 

“See! See! Jagoff is right sometimes” he said to Syd and she shook her head. 

“This…is good. This is really good. I’m for this.” She said, looking at Sugar before handing the brochure back to him. “I’m… gonna miss you, but…you need to get the fuck out. Like really, out, Carm.” She told him. 

He sighed deeply, resting his head back and closing his eyes once more. 

Whatever will make Syd happy, he would do, no matter the amount of discomfort it brought him. 

“Fine.” He mumbled.  

“Really?” Sugar asked him and he looked over at her, brows slightly furrowed. 

“Want me to fuckin fight you about it?” He snipped, already annoyed with how easy he was giving in- but he was too exhausted to fight, and Syds lavender perfume was so comforting, and so familiar. He just wanted everyone except Syd to leave, and to be able to hold her. 

That wasn’t going to happen though, probably ever was what he’d told himself. No, that would be too good, the universe would be much too kind to Carmy as to let him have the ultimate pleasure and enjoyment that would come from being with her in that way. 

“No…no. I’m sorry. Thank you, Bear. I know this is gonna be good”  Sugar said quietly. 

The doctor came in, saving Carmen from the uncomfortable conversation. “Hello again, Mr.Berzatto. I have your results here- is this okay company? If not I can have them step out for a moment” she’d said. 

Carmen had already completely forgotten her name, her name to him was simple - not Claire. Which was the only good thing to happen to him today. 

“As long as I’m not dying cause these two will pitch a fit. You can go ahead” he said, sitting up slightly in the bed. 

“No, no. you are very healthy, well- for the most part. Does your family have a history of high blood pressure?” She asked, sitting in the rolling chair next to the bed and holding her tablet in her lap. 

“Dad. Dad did, bear.” Sugar said. 

“Oh! Lovely- and did dad also have chronic treatment resistant depression?” The doctor turns to her. 

“I- I don’t know but…I know he was depressed for sure.” Sugar replied honestly. 

“And I know per your file you’re a smoker, heavy or moderate?” The doctor asked 

“Heavy” Syd buts in and Carmen didn’t even have the energy to fight either of the women. 

“So heavy is a pack plus a day does that sound average?” The doctor asked Carmy and he nods a bit. 

“Sometimes…sometimes two. Depending on uh…how shit is” he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, so we’re gonna need to reduce as much as we possibly can. And we’re also going to speak about treatment options. Have you ever done mental therapy?” She asked Carmen. 

“He’s getting help. Don’t worry” Sugar said, “he’s going to do a therapy program. Blue lotus? Heard of it?” She asked. 

The doctor nods with a slight smile. “That would be wonderful for you, by the looks of your chart.” She got up. 

“Visiting hours are over at 10 pm, he will need to remain here until at least 1 pm tomorrow afternoon- then he’s yours.” She headed towards the door, shutting the privacy curtain behind her before closing the door. 

Richie chuckled “hack job name” he muttered, rubbing his face tiredly. 

“What was her name?” Sugar looked over at him. 

“Doctor Ginseng?” He said, “isn’t that a- a fuckin-“ 

“A root. A very expensive, luxurious root. It can be put into tea, or soup…the native people of China believe it has properties that make your body better deal with stress” Syd said absentmindedly, staring at the clock while nervously twirling the end of one of her braids. 

“She got it” Carm said and the corners of his lips tugged into a smile, just a bit. He absolutely adored the way if Syd wasn’t beating him to the punch when someone asked a random food question- that she was teaching him something. 

Even after years in the kitchen, the hundreds of hours watching cooking shows, Sydney still managed to teach him. He was utterly amazed by her every single day. 

“That’s a good idea. I- I think we have some. Back at the restaurant. All the stuff here will be shit- I’m gonna make you tea. And soup.” she got up, grabbing her bag. “Don’t fucking die when I’m gone, Kay? Guess you need that reminder now” she told him. 

He rolled his eyes slightly “Y’don’t have t’fuckin make me tea Syd. I’m fine.” He said, but something deep inside him yearned for Syd to take care of him. He craved it. 

“I’m making the tea, and you’re drinking the tea. Be back soon” she said before heading out.

Sydney had stuffed Carm full of pastina chicken soup and warm ginseng tea with lemon, ginger root, and plenty of local honey. As well as sourdough bread that Marcus had made fresh that morning. 

They sat and talked, just the two of them for hours until visiting hours were over. The nurse had to actually warn them both that she’d told them 4 times already it was past visiting hours and she ‘wasn’t afraid to have people removed’ before Sydney finally hugged Carmy goodbye and left. 

They both took his leaving for 45 days extremely serious. They’d joked together about just how quickly and casually Sugar had whipped out the information, all put together so neatly - it was quite obvious she’d been waiting for an opportunity to ship Carmen off here. 

They laughed a bit, and shared stories, and of course Carm answered any and every question Syd had about running the restaurant on her own while he was going to be away. 

Syd had even pulled a chair up to the bed at one point, resting her legs across the mattress after taking her shoes off, and her legs were draped across his own. He didn’t dare say anything, though. He was relishing in the feeling of closeness with her, even if it was as close as they’d ever be.  

Syd had actually made him so excited that the nurse had come in when she first came back and Carmy realized they’d be alone, to realize he was perfectly fine- his heart had just settled at a new pace since she was around. 

He was feeling worlds better by the time he’d gotten to the airport on Sunday morning. He’d spent the rest of Saturday evening at Sugars after he’d been discharged from the hospital, and had one last close family meal with Syd, Richie, Nat, and Pete, well, Pete was a must - he couldn’t uninvite the man from his own house, unfortunately. 

Carmen would be in a hotel in Big Bear, California by nightfall, and by the following morning he’d be starting his 15 day inpatient stint at ‘Blue Lotus Trauma Therapy Rehabilitation Center’ tucked away on a farm, in a dip of Big Bear Lake. How fitting. 

The parking lot of the airport was full of tears, not from Carmy- of course, but a very tearful Sugar, who’d conveniently spent the rest of his hospital stay packing him 2 weeks of clothes to cycle through, explaining phones were allowed- but they gave the toiletries, since it was a mental health center after all. 

She kept hugging him, kissing his cheeks- as if she was sending him to war and not a fucking treatment center. “Is there…somethin’ I’m missing- am I never coming back er somethin are you selling me to some weird chef collector?” Carmen teased, getting at least a small giggle from her. 

“God no. I just… this will work Carmy. It has to work. You’ll get better, okay? It’ll all be fine.” She wiped her face. He nodded a bit. 

“It’ll work.” He said, he wasn’t sure if he believed it- but if it got her to stop feeling so sad, he would agree. 

“I love you, be safe ok?” She said for the millionth time “and remember look at your phone I sent you-“ 

“The flight number, Nat. I love you. Thank you again” he kissed her cheek, grabbing his suitcase and opening his texts, clicking his flight number she sent him. 

“Gate D11! Thank you Nat. Gotta go now- unless…” he teased. 

She smiled a bit, finally. “Get out of Chicago.” She pat his arm gently and got back in the car to a waiting Pete. 

The flight was okay, it felt much longer than he was expecting, but his anxiety told him a lot of things- he couldn’t trust minute things such as time and how he understands it anymore. The first thing he noticed upon landing was the stunning green, and the crisp air. 

The air felt…cleaner, then Chicago. It was chilly- since fall was quickly approaching. Carmen was suddenly grateful Nat had him put on a hoodie before leaving this afternoon. He had the entire evening to explore, and not be himself. 

He already was feeling some kind of new. He wasn’t here to work, definitely not to play, but he could enjoy himself, because he didn’t have to be him. At least not for the night. He opened the Uber app on his phone, booking a trip to the hotel to check in.  

When he’d gotten to the hotel and showered, dressing in some vintage Levi’s and a white long sleeve in trade for his short sleeve, along with his favorite plaid jacket. He had to get somewhere to see how people live here, how to be apart here, so he didn’t stick out like a sore thumb at this rehab place. 

He’d grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders and opened Apple Maps on his phone, looking for a park to go sit at and just be. He found a park close by, simply called ‘BearHill Park’ and following the walking directions. 

He’d missed his ventures to various parks in New York, but especially in Copenhagen. Copenhagen had the most beautiful sunsets Carmen had ever seen before. He missed it sometimes, not the work, but the life. It felt worlds more simple then his life now, where every relationship, every aspect of his job- was dripping with difficulty to manage it all. 

When he got to the park, he’d found an oak tree that looked well over 200 years old, getting situated under it and resting against the trunk, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.  

He watched a couple and a baby walking by, carefully though as he’d learned quickly as a child most people don’t take kindly to being looked at for more then a few moments at a time. But Carmen didn’t watch people in an odd way, of course. He was just wanting to observe, see how he should be. And in a place so new, so out of his ordinary all by himself, it was gonna take a lot of observing to get himself readjusted. 

He watched as the father pushed the carriage along, the mother holding his hand happily. They were far away so he couldn’t hear what they were speaking about, but it must be funny because their heads were tilted back in laughter multiple points throughout the conversation as they continued on. 

He continued on his cigarette, his eyes now finding a younger couple. He sat up a bit, leaning further against the tree to get a better look. From behind, the woman reminded him a lot of Syd, of course it wasn’t- but it was also the way her boyfriend or- husband- Carmen wasn’t emotionally advanced enough to look for a ring, he’d never needed to before.

It was how his arms were covered in tattoos, and his hair was a muss of dirty blonde curls like his. It was how the woman was beautifully tall, with stunning long black braids, and a floral scarf tied around the top of her head. She was much more…boisterous then Syd, but none the less. They looked like them in another world.  

So not only, has this other man, found his Syd, the universe was determined to rub Carmen’s nose in it, or that’s how he took it, anyhow. 

He scoffed a bit, rolling his eyes and looking the other way. Of course. He thought. Everyone can be happy but me. I’m headed to adult crazy camp! And those two are just, fuckin happy and in love. 

The girl laughed loudly, causing Carmen to look back over. “CAMREN!” She squeaked as he tickled her. “Cam! Stop- I-I can’t breathe!! You asshole” she punched his shoulder playfully. 

“Do you give up?! Say it!!!” The man countered, continuing the assault on her sides. 

“No- NO! This- this is cheating!” She said, interrupted by her own laughs. 

“Cheating?! No, I'm getting what’s rightfully mine Scarlett!” He pinned her arms above her head. 

Carmen now looked away. He couldn’t help but think of Syd while watching them, and think of everything he was too pussy to pull off. He wished he could take Syd somewhere like this, but who would run the restaurant, and why would she say yes. 

He’d finished his cigarette by the time the couple had left and he took out his sketchbook and the pen that lived inside of it. He looked at the recipe on his phone Syd had sent ‘Farro Mafaldine with browned Black Truffle Butter and Chanterelles mushrooms’ 

He had tried it for her, and he actually told her he wanted another bite to be sure he was ‘getting everything’ when really- it was just so fantastic he couldn’t stop at one single bite. 

“Syd that is…wow. Really, really fuckin fire. If it weren’t for the mushroom, we’d need that on the permanent menu. Have you tried others?” He’d asked. 

Syd just smiled and nodded, a lot of times she was around Carmen- she thanked god for her darker complexion, considering he made her feel overly hot, all the time. Nearly every time he spoke to her, and she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t always this way. But ever since they opened the restaurant together- things had changed between them. Not for better, not for worse, the energy just… shifted. 

Carmen got lost in thought of Syd, and before he could realize what he was doing- he was drawing her. He rested his elbow on his knee, crouched over as he added details to each intricate little braid. It was one of Carmen’s favorite things about Sydney. 

No matter how she wore her hair, she looked absolutely beautiful. The braids, he did have to admit, were his favorite. Maybe it was because it was how her hair was when they met, but they interested him. He wanted to sit and watch her doing them. She told him a while back, she did them herself. 

Apparently, her mother wasn’t able to teach her- but she had cousins that could. She says it was usually much more expensive to have it done then just do it yourself, that part made sense to him. He was really impressed the first time he told her, she laughed a bit at that.  

‘Most of us do our own hair, I mean- unless you got it like that. But otherwise, just like the white girls we have to do it on our own’ Carmen blushed, feeling silly for not realizing. 

‘Yeah- yeah I..I get that but. I dunno…I’ve seen Sug do her hair…it seems easier” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. 

‘Oh, well yeah, that’s why I only do mine every 6 weeks!’ She’d said, wiping down the counter. 

‘Really? Well that’s cool. I thought you like…I dunno.’ He chuckled a bit. 

‘That I went home, took out 200 plus braids, and then put them all back in before I come in every day?’ She teased. 

Now Carmen’s cheeks were bright red. ‘Okay- listen I’m not a girl. I wouldn’t know’ 

Carmen caught himself smiling at the memory. He looked up at the setting sky, and his heart fluttered a bit at the beauty of it. He’d realized he’d sat there now for probably 5 hours, his back was aching, but he didn’t care. 

He didn’t care because this was the most at peace he’d felt since moving back to the states. And he was alone. He snapped a photo of the gorgeous sunset with his phone, hitting the send button and hovering over Syds name for a moment, before deciding to click it. 

She did tell him to text her when she got settled in after all. 

In CA - this place lives up to the name. Never seen so many bear statues in my life. 

He sends the text, with the photo attached, not even realizing the photo had been a live capture, and you could fully see the drawing of Syd for half a second if you held the photo down. 

He put his phone back in his pocket, continuing on his drawing. Back in Chicago, Syd was very glad that she was working today- because the only thing on her mind otherwise was one single person. 

“Okay guys! I need some hands here- we got 3 dishes for table 13 let’s move! Keep up the pace!” She called out. She had already been here 12 hours, and wasn’t planning on being out for another 6. 

It was just how Sydney operated - she couldn’t sit and worry about Carmen. It would just unearth emotions she didn’t want to go searching for, and once they came up she was worried it would ruin absolutely everything she’d worked so hard to maintain. 

And back across the country, 2,000 miles away, Carmen was contently packing his backpack, getting up, and heading to a small diner he’d seen. He enjoyed a quiet burger to himself, in the corner booth, looking out the window at the water. 

The place truly was beautiful, and very hidden away. There were barely any cars here, it was fully the opposite of anywhere he’d stayed long term, and he was beginning to feel as if he needed that, he wouldn’t admit that to sugar, though. 

He’d gone back to his hotel, taken a shower, gotten in his pajamas, and was laid in bed, watching some random cooking show on the food network since the TV unfortunately didn’t have YouTube like his did. 

When Sydney had seen the photo, she almost didn’t realize it was live at first. She was also at home, finally in bed- but she was 2 hours ahead of Carmen- so instead of it being 11 pm- it was 1 am. She’d scrubbed the restaurant floor until she was sure someone could eat off it, and made sure every station was in perfect condition before returning home.  

She laid in bed with sore hands, a sore back, and sore knees, and sore- well, everything. When she finally had checked her phone and seen it. She smiled a bit at the comment about the bear statues, clicking the photo open to see more. 

It was a breathtaking sunset for sure. She went to close the photo, her thumb lingering because she saw a speck of white in the corner- and the photo started moving. For just a short moment she sees…. Herself? On the page of Carmen’s sketchbook.

She could feel her heart thumping in her throat. Why would he be drawing her? Unless- no! Keep the emotions buried! He is sick. He is so depressed- treatment resistant depression the doctor had said his chart showed. 

She swallowed thickly, not sure what to say back. Should she just ignore it? Should she mention it boldly? Should she just…forget about it and convince herself it didn’t happen? 

She typed and retyped the message multiple times, smiling to herself a bit as she jokingly typed out ‘pretty sunset, even prettier drawing.’ Before deleting it and retyping before hitting send;

fire sunset. so I take it big bear is treating the bear well so far?

Carmen looked at the message right away, smiling to himself a bit. She’d never called him bear before, something about it made his heart begin to race. 

According to Nat, bear+big bear = depression gone, I’ll let you know in a few days if that's the truth.

He wasn’t sure about the whole equestrian therapy thing still, but he did know that being here seemed to allow him to breathe a little easier- and he was already here, so he would try.

The first 5 days in the inpatient program were…quite the adjustment. That was because it was what he learned was the most intensive part of the treatment, and meant to break down your walls by setting you in a hard routine so you had no choice but to think about your shit. 

This included a wake-up time of 6 am, the lights in his inpatient room literally turned on, then at 7:30 was breakfast, then- at 8 am they had 1 hour of either equestrian class, which you learned how to begin caring for the horses, or an hour of tending to the cows - Carmen chose the Horses because he was not going to shovel cow shit. 

Then, you had a therapy class of your choice from 9-11:30, he chose art therapy. It didn’t feel like therapy to him, they got to draw, or paint. Carmen just sat by the window, drawing different recipes - or, more often than not, drawing Syd from memory. 

12:00 was lunch, 12:30-2:00 you had mandatory either equestrian therapy, or cattle therapy. Carmen was more drawn towards the cattle on hard days, and the horses on easier ones. This was because the hour of 3-4 was mandatory group therapy. That usually emotionally drained him until at least art therapy the following day, since to progress and complete the program- you need ‘participation points’ in your 15 day inpatient stay, before you’re trusted to be on your almost fully on your own for a whole 30 days. 

The horses were usually nervous around new people, so it was a challange to get them to trust him. While the cows, people in the group joked- were ‘giant grass puppies’ the therapy consisted of literally just laying with the lazy cows and cuddling them, and feeding them snacks, which they very much enjoyed, and Carmen found to be very soothing once he learned to douse himself in bug spray before heading in the pen so the flys would be out of his way.

Then, dinner was at 5, and afterwards you had the evening to yourself in your room, or you could walk the trails until they closed at sunset. In your room you could watch tv, read, and the residents were also allowed to have their cellphones.  

It was quite exhausting the first 5 days, but the second 5 he was getting into a groove at Blue Lotus. He was beginning to enjoy the hard manual work that came with working with the animals, and the time it took to build their trust. There was one particular horse Carmen had become fond of, a white horse named Stardust. Perfect name for her. 

When he looked in her eyes she felt more human then most people he met in real life. She was different then the other horses. He’d been told that she rarely took to men, and that he was the only male she’d never need startled by. He always took extra time brushing her mane, and they both seemed to appreciate eachothers silence. 

Carmen heard other people in stalls next to him, they would talk to the horses- dump their issues they were too afraid to tell their therapists out on them. He wondered if the horses ever got annoyed, he probably would if he was a horse. He smiled a bit at the thought, and it was almost as if Stardust could tell what he was thinking, because she turned her head and looked at him before snorting almost in agreement and sticking her head back out of the stall. 

Getting into outpatient life at lotus though, was as easy as falling into bed for Carmen. His inpatient stay, he made sure to take the time in the evenings to learn his favorite quiet trails, the ones less taken usually, so when he graduated to outpatient - he could take stardust for rides on his own.

 It took them about 3 days to get to know each other in that regard, it was mostly Carmen’s fault though he realized, because when he’d get nervous he’d pull on her reigns in such a way that she thought he meant for her to go faster - when it was the opposite. But, Stardust was so, so patient with Carmen. 

He made sure to sneak her extra apples with a small drizzle of honey in return, so she knew her patience with him always came with great reward. 

Carmen had been gone for about a month now, he and Syd would text intermittently, sugar was sure to call once a week and they’d talk for about an hour. But it was mostly quiet from Carmen’s end, he had told them it was because he was usually out, all day long unless he was at therapy. 

It was day 19 of the outpatient part of the program, so he had just 11 days left. He had just finished his morning art therapy, and was in the stables tending to stardust, feeding her slices of pumpkin they’d had in the snack bucket for the horses today. “Come onnn- the tongue, really star” he wipes his wet hand on his jeans and she nudged his shoulder with his nose, asking for more. 

“You are greedy! I’m always the first one in here y’gotta leave some for the rest of these guys!” He grabbed another piece of pumpkin, feeding it to her. 

“And this is our horse stable, he spends a lot of time out here” Carmen heard one of the employees likely giving someone a tour, only half listening. 

Stardust snorts at him, nudging his chest and he rubs her neck gently. “What is it? Y’done? Pumpkin not good enough for ya? No honey apples until after our ride or Y’don’t listen missy” he pats her head gently. 

“I didn’t take you for a horse guy but I guess drop anyone off in the middle of nowhere and you’d be surprised. 34 days and you went full fuckin’ cowboy on me- are those boots, Carm? ” An all too familiar voice said from the large open sliding door of the stable He looked at stardust for a moment, he must be dreaming, or ODing again. Maybe he died, and had been dead the entire time. Because there was no way he could believe Sydney Adamu was standing behind him, 2000 miles away from their shared city, in Big Bear, California.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡ ⋙

[hypnoneghoul]

So I had a thought, and your writing would capture this best in my opinion: Phantom coming back to the abbey, finding Aether, and proceeds to have the most Ghoultism conversation about his first tour and what he experienced. And he’s such a little cutie that he doesn’t stop him.

im sorry it took me ages whaaaaa :(

but im here! and thank you for considering me the best man for the job, hope i don't dissapoint hahahah

some ghautistic phantom rambles under the cut :)

Aether didn't exactly know what saying 'tell me everything' to Phantom would mean for him. He didn't expect him to literally tell him everything. He did feel a bit like complaining, at first, he had better things to do. Not to say he didn't absolutely adore Phantom or that he was ignorant or selfish. Not at all, quite the opposite. Aether just really had a lot of work.

But Phantom was so adorable, he was so excited to tell the older ghoul all the stories from tour. Aether couldn't just stop him, could he?

"People were throwing us so many plushies, there's so many on the bus and everyone has some for themselves and I even got a few bats!" Phantom ranted so fast he was nearly out of breath. "I love bats so much, Aether, how did they even know!?"

"I have no idea, kid, but I'm happy you got some gifts from the fans," he chuckled. Phantom was too adorable for his own good.

"They know our names too! And they gave us so many different things, a lot of bracelets with our names, flowers and I even got a letter! A LETTER, Aeth, just for me!" he beamed.

"I saw you also got some flags thrown onto the stage, yeah?" Aether prompted. He should've probably bite his tongue if he wanted to leave the common room in the next 24 hours but Phantom was just too cute.

"YEAH! There were those rainbow ones and the other colorful one, you taught me about them when I was first summoned. The colorful one is for the whole community some humans are in, right? When they don't really fuck with everyone, just specific people?"

"Something like that," Aether giggled. It was one way to put it, especially with how Phantom perceived things Topside.

"The other one was the blue, white and pink and I think that's the one people use when their junk doesn't match their head? Like Dew and Sunny, they'd be them too if they were humans, yeah?"

"Yes, kid, it's called being transgender, for humans."

"Yes! People were so happy when we picked them up, Swiss too, I think it meant a lot to them. I think a lot of our fans are colorful humans, don't you think?" Phantom asked and actually paused for a second. Not a rhetorical question, then.

"I don't just think so, I know it. I used to check the internet a lot, the thing on your phone that you don't like. They say a lot of nice stuff about us all there, and yes, a lot of them are colorful, as you called it."

"'m happy I could make them feel... seen, then, you know? Swiss told me once their lives aren't really easy. That's sad," he pouted as he picked on a loose thread on his pant leg.

"That's true. But there's no reason for you to get sad now, kid. Tell me more, what else happened?" Phantom was not only a cutie, he was also really sensitive and Aether would much rather spend hours listening to his excited rambles than his sobbing.

"Oh, we visited so many fun places! The girls took a lot of pictures, they should show you! World is so big and there's so many different things in it, it was so exciting, Aether!"

"Oh, believe me, I know. Terzo loved travelling, when we toured with him there was no way to sneak out of a mandatory sightseeing in every city we got to. It was more tiring than playing itself. Mountain always ended up with Dew half asleep on his back on our way back to the hotel or a bus," it was true, the only thing that could've saved them from Terzo's traveling hunger was him himself being dead exhausted. Didn't happen often.

"Must've been fun! But yeah all of that was really tiring, we all napped when we could, even if for a moment. It's good you taught me all the basics of quintessence, I was helping everyone with their pains and when Dew couldn't sleep!"

"I'm proud of you, kid. I'm glad you liked touring and had so much fun," Aether sighed. He really was, even if he missed it already himself.

"Oh, and one time..."

[lokorum]

Pls rant about non romance cole…he’s my favorite character in anything, ever and it feels so sad that we never got to have a deeper relationship w him. Like the mechanics/possible lore of having a romance with a spirit are so tantalizingly interesting but no…also doubting we will see him in veil guard which leaves me so so broken …

*looks at their pile of unpacked feelings about cole*

so ૮( ◡̀_◡́)ა where to start....................

first of all uh! im not good at talking! that's why i draw phphp but i'll try my best to resurrect my memories from 2014 and share it with you!! sorry if it will sound weird, english is not my native language! 

well WELL from the begining then. i remember spending hours  more like days hhhh thinking about how weird and cool the recruiting scene with cole is? later when he is already with the inquisition, our party is either on guard around him or kinda treats him like he is helpless and needs special attention or guidance or something like that? demonising someone like him or framing them as in need of help are like textbook behavior ofc and im not here to be a hater, i just noticed it? moments with solas and varric fighting over him like a divorced couple are super cute for sure!!

but i remember being confused because excuse me, out of all of them, this guy??, this feral bat that is chilling on the ceiling like it's a lounge-zone inside Lucius' head, created especially for him?

he is confident. also a little bit nervous, a bunch mysterious and just ghostly cool. but also confident. (im not saying this confidence is not misplaced sometimes btw x) he even tells you that if you'll leave your head you'll die! what a jokester (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ)

and the whole quest with templars and envy are soooo horror coded, i love it!! it looked a bit silly, sure

(even after so many years im not able to get rid of the image in my brain phphphp) 

but it's still a very interesting quest!! dorian is ✨the bestie✨ but i'm always picking templars bc the implications of the story are just so good

1. its placed at the beginning of the game and your character is probably confused and anxious and dont yet worked out the routine of how to deal with their new title\powers + not every inquisitor character would want to be in the spotlight.

imagine you suddenly got yourself into position where a lot of people looking up to you, listening to what you saying, placing their hopes on you or waiting for you to fail? this is terrible! id 1000% just jumped out of a cliff!!! a small one, but still 

2. you meeting the guy who basically came from a place you now have unlimited access to.

he is: a) almost as confused as you are b) possibly came to this world without knowing consequences of that decision c) along the way he is figuring out how to be himself in the environment that is nothing like where he used to live. wow thats just like forced immigration *nervous laugh*

3. and let's not forget that you are meeting him inside your head and you can say to him "you look familiar".

dont know about you but apparently i dont need much to start screaming ¯(ツ)/¯

also can i just spend the moment to say that this is three (3) identical dialogue options??????????

the screenshot is from here btw

how awesome would it be to be able to figure out stuff together? to find comfort in someone, with someone who barely experienced it this way? to build on your strong sides? like "hope" for cole and i guess "unhingedness" for the inquisitor? i bet they would ground each other easily as well: cole distracting inq by being unintentionally mischievous and inq would have a notepad with cole's "firsts ____" or they would just read together. oh im such a sucker for hurt\comfort\some things cant be healed stuff uaaaaaaaaa

ALSO THE "FORGET" THING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the drama the horror the tension!!!!!!!! you can fight me over this but heres the thought:

cole being so stressed that he is erasing\being on the edge of erasing the inquisitor's memories??????

i got the feeling that cole's confidence in the concept of "help" is, among other things, makes him being able to zoom in on something borderline obsessively? or vise versa - dismissively, not noticing "it hurts, its not for the better"? he thanks you when you promise to kill him, he cries when you do not. i swear this man (─ ‿ ─)

+quick addition bc im not entirely sure: so if i got it right, the anchor makes the inquisitor "too bright" to read? so among all the people we know about inq is the one that cole can't truly empathise on this lvl? on spiritual lvl you might say lsdkjflksdjflkj sorry!!!!! but jokes aside,this is like the perfect ground to build both comforting stories 

"someone from the party notices that cole is hanging near inq before inq do, and when asked he explains it by saying something like "dry warm skin. the air is stilled with quiet, easy to breathe. i followed the shining whispers and then i was followed no more" with the most plain face possible? "

and "today for lunch i have glass" kind of stories, like "the inquisitor is cornered and possibly bleeding and probably on the verge of passing out and they know that situation is bad and no one should follow/find them, "it's better to wait it out and deal with it on my own" kind of clown behavior. so they laugh tiredly at how pathetic they are, maybe remembering something similar from their childhood, remarks from their sibling for ex., and just trying their best to not think about how they need cole's help, cole's presence. the sense of safety that comes when he is around" 

uh!!! that wasnt neither quick or painless so i'll go make a tea wait a second please

im back!! so since i talked about the forget thing i must confess - i dont really like cole's personal quest???? again, im not complaining or anything but i remember feeling kinda empty while playing it? like deep inside me, there was something sad, but it was so far away,i coudn't even feel it properly?

both human and spirit versions of his ending made me feel like the distance between you and him lengthened, and maybe you could do something about it before but now? this "something" is missing and you're lost and can't even tell for sure if theres was a chance to do something in the first place? and cole just moved on? its super logical considering he is not a romance option but phphph so, i rarely romance someone in games, partly bc rpg tends to be a little horny and im that kind of ace who is not interested in this, partly bc i tend to pay attention to non-romanceable characters, so when i started to explore last da:i dlc and i saw cole having gf i was like "well ouch".

imagine your inq has a crush on cole but they never were able to say it clearly?

mb it was a melancholic slowburn, and your character was going through too much and felt like burdening cole with their problems would be unfair?

maybe they tried but the timing was wrong, the words felt stupid, and their hands felt too dirty, too guilty?

oh anon its been ten years and its still huuuuuurts!!!! if you following me for a while you know that im an edge lord in poor disguise so its not surprising for neither you or me that i ended up rumbling about inexplicable sadness and crushing existential guilt, but sorry for that anyway!! if anyone would want me to talk about something specific, or to draw something - im here, staring at the wall, listening to cole's banter :') thank you for the wonderful question tho, it was more than just nice to return back to this ship. im so agreeing with you about cole being the fave character from everything, but i also understand that this could mean being very unsatisfied with the way he was portrayed at some points or just with the fact that characters like him are rare so im sending you warm and tight hugs and a little sketch!! <3 

let's collectively accept the fact that dav gonna be a beautiful mess, we gonna love it (passionately), we gonna be hurt by it (not surprisingly) and COLE FOREVER WILL BE THE BEST DA CHARACTER EVER IM NOT GONNA CHANGE MY MIND FIGHT ME

[amhrosina]

August (Namor x fem!Reader)

Songfic - August by Taylor Swift

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: hi friends! I hit 500 followers today and have over 1,000 notes on one of my fics. I can’t express how much I appreciate your support and love for my writing :’). You are all so kind! This fic took me a few days longer than usual because I was experiencing some pretty intense writer’s block. Hopefully, that’s in the past! Anyways, a nonnie requested this! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!

Request: hi i have read the artist and the sea and it was so well-written and wonderful 🥹🫶🏼 this is why i'm requesting a namor x fem reader that is kind of inspired with august by taylor swift? like it's a summer love typa beat but the reader will realize that they don't have a future together since he's a god and she's just a mortal so it's like the lyric "so much for summer love and saying 'us' cause you weren't mine to lose" ??? you can put a happy ending or not honestly it's fine either way! and sorry if this is too specific and if you don't want to write this, it's okay &lt;333 

Summary: You and Namor must face the music when the real world begins to catch up with your summer love affair.

(Warnings: smutty language, allusions of smut, no hardcore smut (nonnie didn’t specify and I didn’t want to include it just in case), watch me make shit up about being able to visit Talokan as a human (without the suit lol), fluffy Namor, Namor would hang the moon for reader, a little bit of angst, happy ending bc im incapable of writing sad endings) 

Translations: 

in yakunaj – my love 

princesa – princess 

Salt air, and the rust on your door  I never needed anything more 

The summer heat was stifling, but you were determined to meet Namor on the beach when he finally made it back from Talokan, and the sun had almost set, so the heat wouldn’t be an issue for much longer. He’d been gone for three long days, and you were beginning to grow a little anxious. Since you’d met him, the time between seeing him was never longer than a day or two. When he hadn’t returned last night, you’d opened your bedroom window and listened to the sound of the sea for hours until finally drifting off into a restless sleep. When you awoke, and he still hadn’t come back, the worry began gnawing at your gut. 

You weren’t entirely sure why Namor continued to come back to you, time and time again. It was a thought that was easily forgotten when Namor was around, but during the short stretches of his absence, you couldn’t stop yourself from mulling it over. Namor was a god, a warrior that was centuries older than you, and yet, he seemed completely enamored with you. 

His “little love”, he called you, a nickname that never failed to make you blush. When you really thought about it, the pace at which you’d fallen for each other was incredibly fast. It was a lightning storm out at sea, a muscle car going 90 down the pacific coast highway, the tumble of the waves meeting the sand on a stormy night. It was a warmth that many people didn’t know existed. You’d never cared about anyone as deeply as you care for Namor, and you tried not to think about that, because it was a terrifying thought. 

You never let yourself consider what would happen when you continued to age while Namor didn’t. Namor never brought it up either, and for that you were grateful. The thought left a melancholy note in your body, and you wanted to enjoy the time you were getting to spend with Namor now, even if later wasn’t guaranteed. 

The sun hung low in the sky, on the cusp of fading into the night, and you were worried you might be gnawing a hole in your cheek when you finally spotted Namor in the water. You breathed a sigh of relief, but the nervous ache in your chest didn’t disappear. What if he was only coming to say goodbye to you? 

“I am sorry it took me so long, in yakunaj. I got here as fast as I could.” He buried you in a hug, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. “I missed you, little love.” 

“I missed you too.” You nuzzled into his chest. “Do you want to come inside?”  

You tilted your head up at him, blinking in awe at his beauty. You would never get tired of seeing him like this. You were almost completely sure no one in the world got to experience the warm, cuddly side of Namor besides you. The way he described his people gave you the sense that “warm and cuddly” wasn’t really what they were going for as warriors, but you didn’t care. Namor never brought violence home to you, and in turn, you always appreciated his kindness a little extra. 

“Lead the way, in yakunaj.”  

Whispers of "Are you sure?"  "Never have I ever before" 

As soon as Namor shut the door, he was on you. His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, pulling your body against his in one swift movement. One hand traveled along the curve of your waist while the other had a firm grip on your jaw, and the sparks traveling through your veins reminded you of the first time Namor had ever kissed you like this. 

Crisp memories flashed through your mind. Namor’s gentle caress along your spine. His fingers lightly treading the waistband of your shorts. The way he’d carefully laid you down, kissing every inch of you with soft lips. In the centuries since he’d been born, the act of sex had become a detatched act of primal urge. He never cared about the people he was burying himself inside of, not really. But then he met you, and suddenly the world had shifted.  

“You make me feel alive, for the first time in 500 years.”  

He had whispered this into your skin, resting his head on your chest as the weight of his words sank in. You had gently cradled his head in your hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before slowly pulling your shirt over your head.  

Your first time with Namor was nothing short of magical. You should’ve probably expected it, considering how much more time he’d had to perfect his craft than other men, but you suspected that the love exchanged between you also had an impact. The morning after, Namor had revealed to you that he’d never experienced love, but that he was pretty sure it’s what he felt for you. You’d melted into his hold, and he made love to you again, whispering confessions of love into your skin. 

Namor lifted you in the air and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling you back into the present. His desire was achingly hard against your clothed core, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as you shifted against him. He walked the two of you into your bedroom, and softly closed the door behind him. This was the usual routine after he returned from Talokan, and the love between the two of you seemed to grow every time you reunited. 

Your back beneath the sun  Wishin' I could write my name on it  Will you call when you're back at school?  I remember thinkin' I had you 

Later, after you had spent hours kissing gentle reminders of how much you missed one another into each other’s skin, you were cuddled into Namor’s side, resting your head on his chest in a sleepy haze.  

“Why did it take you so long to come back?” You prodded, out of curiosity, but also out of nervousness.  

Namor sighed, pulling you tighter against his side. “My people have noticed that I spend more time here than at home. Namora is concerned.”  

You stiffened against him. You knew Namor hadn’t revealed to anyone in Talokan exactly what he’d been doing on the surface, but he had never spoken so openly about the toll it was taking on him.  

“Do not worry, in yakunaj. It is a peaceful time for my people.” 

“What if it wasn’t peaceful?” You asked, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Then I would be with my people, fighting alongside them. I have a duty to protect them, in yakunaj. But I would think of you every second, until we met again.” 

You sighed, but you understood. He was theirs long before he was yours, and you couldn’t expect him to give up 500 years of history for you.  

“I wish I could see it. Talokan sounds lovely.” You mumbled into his chest, kissing one of the faint scars that hid along the line of his collarbone. He tightened his hold on you – a small token of appreciation in response to your love for his home.  

“I know, princesa. There is nothing I want more than that.” 

You wanted to ask him how long he was planning on keeping this hidden love affair going, how long he planned on lying to his closest friends and family about his feelings for a surface dweller, but you stayed quiet. That was not something you wanted to know the answer to. At least not now. The thought of your late nights together on the beach and the hours spent wrapped in bed sheets by each other’s side coming to an end was too painful to think about.  

For now, you were fine with living in blissful ignorance. Eventually, you knew it would have to come to an end, but what you couldn’t bear to think about was how agonizingly lonely you would be without Namor in your life.  

Instead of saying any of this, you lightly kissed his cheek, and drifted off to sleep against his chest, blissfully unaware of the war waging inside of Namor’s head at the exact same moment. 

But I can see us lost in the memory  August slipped away into a moment in time  'Cause it was never mine  So much for summer love and saying "us"  'Cause you weren't mine to lose  You weren't mine to lose, no 

The summer months passed by in an idyllic haze. It was easy to lose yourself in Namor when he was around. Hours would pass like minutes, shaded in the warm glow of summer.  

Namor’s visits were less frequent, excused with the wave of his hand, as if to say, “I had to take care of something, but don’t worry about it.” You tried not to mind the absences, though. When Namor was with you, his attention was always fully on you. The nights he spent with you were always as passionate as the first night, and he’d hold you until he absolutely had to return to Talokan.  

You didn’t question him, though you were curious about what he was so busy doing when he was at home. He was a King, you supposed. He probably had a lot of things going on. All of this justification didn’t help soothe the sting when his absences began to stretch into 3-4 days at a time. Perhaps he was finally realizing what you’d known all along. He was a God, and you were a human, and it wouldn’t work for much longer. 

You mulled this over as you tried to read on the beach one evening. The sun was going to set soon, and it had officially been five days since Namor had visited you. You read the same paragraph three times before finally throwing the book down beside you. Distracting yourself with a book wasn’t working. Your thoughts always trailed back to Namor, and they probably always would. 

You watched the sun set, waiting and waiting for the familiar tremor in the water that indicated Namor’s arrival. The tremor never came, and after two hours of sitting in miserable silence, you trudged back towards your house. He wasn’t coming, and even though you should probably have expected this eventually, you couldn’t stop the tears from welling up.  

Two more days passed before you saw Namor again, and the weary look on his face when you met him in knee-deep water sent a wave of turmoil into your gut. This was it, the moment you’d been dreading since you realized how incredibly hard you’d fallen for him, and you weren’t prepared in the slightest for the wave of emotion that followed this realization. 

Familiar tears stained your cheeks, and the overwhelming sense that you couldn’t breathe overtook your ability to look at him. Namor cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes.  

“In yakunaj, what is it? Why are you crying?”  

You latched onto his wrists, failing to stop the tears from flowing down your face. “Please just say it, Namor. I can’t take the distance you’re forcing between us anymore. I can handle it.”  

“Princesa, what are you talking about? Say what?” Namor’s face morphed into concern as he looked over your features. Your eyes were puffy, stained red from crying, and you looked exhausted.  

“That you can’t love me anymore. That you have to go back to Talokan, and that I can’t come, and that I have to move on from you.”  

Namor studied your face for a moment. Understanding dawned on his face as he realized how affected you were by his unexplained absences. He wiped the tears from under your eyes and shook his head. 

“Is that what you think? That I don’t love you anymore?”  

You tried to look away from him, but his firm grip wouldn’t allow it. You closed your eyes instead, trying to calm the heartbreak crashing through you.  

“Why else have you been pulling away from me?” 

“My sweet little love,” Namor cooed, kissing the tip of your nose, “I will always love you. I am sorry for being so distant lately, but I was trying to surprise you.”  

You opened your eyes, confusion evident on your face.  

“Surprise me with what?” You asked. 

Namor smiled, glancing over his shoulder towards the water.  

“We have found a way to bring you to Talokan.” 

You inhaled sharply, following his gaze towards what you could only assume was the route to Talokan.  

“What do you mean?” Your voice was a breathy whisper.  

“I mean, there is a way for me to bring you home with me.”  

Excitement bubbled in your chest, but it was quickly extinguished when you remembered that even if you could get to Talokan, time would remain an enemy. Namor was still a God, and you were still a mortal, after all. 

“Namor,” you shook your head, “It won’t work. I will still die of old age, and then you will be alone again.” 

Namor began shaking his head in response before you could finish your sentence.  

“You misunderstand me, princesa. We have found a way for you to stay in Talokan. You would be one of us. That’s what I’ve been working on while I’ve been gone. We could be together forever, if that’s what you want.” He paused, looking over your shoulder at your house. “You will have to say goodbye to the surface, though. It will be visitable, of course, but your home would be in Talokan, with our people.”  

“Our people?” You felt like a mimicking parrot, but his proposal had overwhelmed you, and that was the only thing you could muster in response.  

Namor chuckled, kissing both of your cheeks, one after the other. “They are very excited to meet their soon-to-be Queen, in yakunaj.”  

“You told them about me?” You murmured, in awe of his ability to render you almost speechless again.  

“I did. They are glad to see me happy.” 

You glanced between your home and the water, mulling over everything he’d told you.  

“I know I am asking a lot of you. You do not have to give me an answer now, in yakunaj. You can think abo-” 

You cut him off with a searing kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your body against his.  

“Take me home, Namor.” You murmured against his lips. 

The smile on his face shined so bright that you couldn’t imagine ever saying no to him, if that’s what his response was when he was happy. 

For the hope of it all  (For the hope of it all) 

You looked back towards your house for the final time. Leaving it behind was something you’d never thought you’d do, but you didn’t think you’d miss it – not when an entire city awaited your arrival.  

Namor had explained the transition process to you as best he could. A lot of it sounded like scientific gibberish, but the parts that you picked up included drinking a blue nectar that had been mixed with his blood, which would ensure that you could breathe both under water and above it. It would also extend your lifetime by centuries, if not longer. According to Namor, people all over Talokan were celebrating your arrival already.  

Namor wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.  

“Are you sure you want to say goodbye to this life, little love?”  

You smiled and leaned backwards against his chest.  

“Let’s start our life together, in yakunaj.” His language felt foreign on your tongue, but you had heard him call you by that name so many times that you were sure you had pronounced it correctly. 

Namor let out a loud laugh, kissing your shoulder and squeezing you tighter against him in response.  

“I think I could get used to hearing you speak my language, princesa.”  

“We’ll have a hundred lifetimes together. Will you teach me more?”  

“I will do anything you ask of me, princesa.” 

“Forever?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.  

He grinned, nodding. “Forever.”  

Tag List:

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[remcycl333]

Hi, I really enjoyed reading your indepth post today on how to fulfill ourselves. I really admire you and the “states girlies” a lot because you guys really know your stuff!

I have a bit of a scenario that i’ve been “stuck” in and in my own head about, if you have time i would really appreciate some advice.

So i’ve been “manifesting” my sp for a little over 2 years now using law of assumption, but in reality i’ve only TRULY been manifesting him using states for the last 8 months. I have a really good understanding of states thanks to you and twitter pages, edward art and neville. I promise I don’t focus on time (until recently when i was making plans for my future which i always assumed my sp would be here for) and I never intended that manifesting takes a long time. I’ve experienced many quick manifestations and I know sp is no different but im not sure where im going wrong. I always catch myself when im out of the state and redirect myself back and have been doing this daily for the last 8 months. I do feel fulfilled in my mind with him since I no longer have a “longing” for him nor do I expect him to take any action in the 3D because thats not my true world. I dont even feel bad/sad when “opposite” things seem to happen (such as him unfollowing me out of the blue) and I give stuff like that NO meaning because it GENUINELY doesn’t affect me since I know in imagination im happily married. I know you’ll tell me that im not truly fulfilled if the 3D is making me feel some type of way, but Im not sure how else to explain that I don’t know why not even the tiny bit of movement has happened (I dont want movement, I want my whole desire, just trying to say how in my physical senses there has been nothing experienced).

I keep up with your posts weekly and I know you’ll tell me that if im noticing the absence im not in the state, that im dominantly still in lack, etc but I truly felt like I was fulfilled. I never check the 3D, I never even have “opposing” thoughts (since thoughts are an indicator of my state) so I thought for months that everything is fine. Even now I am prioritizing my state because I know that by writing this, I am being in an unfulfilled state, but im not sure what else to do. After a while it gets a little weird noticing it hasn’t reflected even though im fulfilled within. Am I doing anything wrong? I dont have a strong desire for my sp anymore because I worked a lot on myself and no longer need him, but I do wish to be with him still.

Thank you rem.

hi love! so im not in your brain, so i don't know every little thing you think/do throughout the day, so im gonna give u some examples of things i was accidentally doing whenever i was manifesting an sp that was keeping my 3d from reflecting, even tho i was sure i was 100% fulfilled. maybe you'll realize you're doing something similar and be able to stop it?

i'd prepare myself for what i'd say to my sp when he finally reached out, or i'd daydream about yelling at him when he did bc i knew before we got back together we'd have to talk about our past issues. this was contradicting the fact that i was manifesting already being in a relationship with my sp. why would i be identifying with those thoughts when i was already with my sp?

i like to daydream in order to fulfill myself, but sometimes i'd stop paying attention and accidentally slip into a state of longing without even realizing it. like i'd be daydreaming about something bc i desperately wanted to experience it in my reality, not because i was experiencing it in my 4D, if that makes sense. what i like to do to combat that is while im daydreaming i just like to tell myself that im re-living a memory and that im so happy this thing already happened/is happening. it helps me think from my desire instead of thinking of it!

my friends have shared that one of their mistakes while manifesting an sp was still wanting their sp to be missing them/obsessed with them/constantly thinking about how badly they wanted to be with them, daydreaming about scenarios of them being jealous, etc. this was making them identify with separation, when they really wanted to identify as their sp's partner.

similarly, an issue i had was focusing way too much on how my sp was feeling about me, instead of focusing on how i was feeling about them. when i'd daydream or imagine, i'd imagine them loving ME or confessing their feelings to ME, but then i realized that how i feel matters more than how they feel, because this is my reality! so instead i'd focus on how much i loved them and how amazing i felt being loved by them. that's why, as i mentioned in my most recent post, i changed from affirming "my sp loves me" to "i love my sp."

while manifesting my sp, i knew the first step of us getting back together would be him texting me, so every time i picked up my phone and i saw he hadn't texted me yet id feel sooo discouraged. what helped me with this was telling myself things like "ofc my sp didn't text me, he's literally in the same room as me why would he text me lol?" this would help me feel like we were already together!

i was still PISSED at my sp. idk what your story is with your sp, but mine was an ex, and i was mad at him for breaking up with me still. i had to forgive him because i was constantly holding onto that anger and fantasizing about yelling at him over it. this one might not apply to u depending on your relationship with your sp idk!

similarly, i'd find myself getting mad at my sp for not "conforming" to my affs? even tho he didn't even know i wanted him back? so once again i focused on feeling positively towards my sp and imagining how much i loved him. once i started focusing on the version of my sp that was such a good and loving and attentive boyfriend, he started showing up that way in my reality. remember, there is NO ONE TO CHANGE BUT SELF! focus on changing how YOU feel about your sp instead of how he feels about you!

i know you say that you never feel negatively about your sp or your situation, but as i've mentioned in other posts, sometimes the feeling of knowing feels like nothing. so while you're noticing nothing is happening in your 3D, you can still be accepting the fact that nothing is happening without it giving you any negative emotions.

my advice would be to implement the distraction technique. this is what helped me finally manifest my sp. i had a favorite person attachment to my sp (bc of my bpd) so i was thinking of him ALL day long, and sometimes i wouldn't be paying enough attention to know if i was thinking of him from the state of the wish fulfilled, or from the state of lack. so instead, every time i thought of him at all (negatively or positively) i'd say "it is done" (which instantly shifted me into the state of the wish fulfilled) and then force myself to think of something else. so many of my followers have had success with this technique! this technique isn't necessary at all (you're 100% allowed to think of your sp) but i found it rlly helpful for my adhd brain. it can also be really helpful for you if you can't pinpoint what you're doing wrong!

i really hope this post was helpful to you!! <3 let me know if anything helped!

[princess-glassred]

It the musical! Henry Bowers head cannons

I thought it would be fun and interesting to try and write like a sad back story for this version of Henry since we don't know anything about his homelife and why he is the way he is. So here's some head cannons about his life to explain what his whole deal is. Just to clarify a big part of this post is Musical! Henry being a closeted trans man with toxic masculinity. I am bigender so i felt like this would be an interesting thing to explor for the character but if you (understandably) get the ick from having an antagonist like Henry be trans and don't wanna read this that's fine. I get it, an unfortunate amount of villains in media are trans and seen as more scary because of it, i'm not trying to do that here but if you don't wanna hear this it's fine. I just think it would be interesting if because lots of people already read Henry as being in the closet, and he's played by a female presenting actor, i could make him trans.

So uh, yeah withoit further ado, here's the headcannons:

-Musical! Henry unlike the other versions of Henry is AFAB. (His full name is Henrietta just like his mom) It's pretty obvious to everyone that Henry is AFAB, and the fact the losers call him by male pronouns is more so just to exaggerate how much of a sexist douchebag he is, they have no idea Henry is actually trans. He himself doesn't know he's trans, he just assumes he enjoys it because being a man seems to be the best thing in the world to him. There is undoubtably some transness going on, but I don't think Musical! Henry ever truly accepts it. He just thinks "yeah im so cool im basically a guy". By the time Henry is in juniper Hills any hopes of him acknowledging he might actually be transgender are pretty dismal, especially with the way Juniper Hills treats their patients.

-The losers calling Henry a man just started as one of those stupidly insensitive things kids do, but as adults they're all like "Ohhhh. Henry really DID like being called that. That's good for him I guess." And they continue to call Henry a dude because even though he's transphobic and sucks ass they're not transphobes. I also think Musical! Eddie and Stan are trans too (Hence why the losers lovingly call Stan stan the man and Henry calls Eddie girlyboy to insult him) so they ain't judging.

-The reason Henry's Juniper Hills outfit is just like a tank top and shorts is to try and disuade his transness, since they know Henry loves wearing jackets and pants. If the Juniper Hills staff can help it they'll try to "fix" Henry in anyway they see fit. Wether it's outright referring to Henry as a woman to his face or just beating Henry senseless for exhibiting masculine traits, Henry is subjected to lots of transphobia from the medical system.

-The transphobia he's experienced in there fuels his preformance of elastic heart, the lyrics of the song are unsurprisingly about just moving on from the things that hurt you and never breaking down. It proves that despite everything Henry has had to face in his 27 years at Juniper Hills, he's still not a woman like the doctors are trying to force him to be.

-Even though Musical! Henry would still be trans no matter the envirement they were raised in, his dysphorhia has an accidentally toxic layer to it from how often Butch drills into Henry how femininity is weakness. Henry can't just be a man because that's how they feel, they also have to be a man because being masculinity is power and he wants to be seen as more valuable. Henry is so fucked in the head he can't just admit he's trans and be happy, he has to weaponize the fact he's more masculine than Eddie or Stan.

-His lack of self acceptance also makes him more prone to lash out. Obviously at home Henry is constantly called a girl and all this stuff when he knows he doesn't feel like that at all. He's a huge mess of emotions with no outlet for support or even really labels to help, so he responds to his dysphoric feelings at home by being ultra sexist, transphobic, and violent to the people around him. He has serious toxic masculinity because the only version of masculinty that he feels is acceptable is Butch's (which is also, unfortunately, a very white version of masculinity too).

-Every sexist thing Henry says about Bev is things his father has said about him.

-It the musical! Henry is mixed, their mother is black and their dad is white. Henry gets his blonde hair from his dad.

-Butch Bowers would have abused any woman but his abuse of Henrietta was absolutely emboldened by the fact she was black, it was no wonder she left.

-Henry's hatred of Mike Hanlon stems more from colorism than just straight up racism like his book counterpart (although there's definitely still aspects of that).

-Part of the reason Butch is so cruel to Henry is that he is mixed, but Henry still likes to claim his whiteness to feel superior to Mike. He's darker and had two black parents so Henry still feels better than him. Henry still very much idolizes Butch so anything he can claim to make him feel closer to his father, even if it's just a lighter skin tone or half his genes, he will use it. His anti-blackness is probably not helped by the fact his black mother abandoned him.

-The racism also affects how he views Bill and Eddie since they are also racebended in the musical. Henry is less racist to asian people than he is to other black people, but he's still very racist towards Eddie.

-As for his friendship with Musical! Patrick despite him being black, i think it's safe to say his colorism doesn't affect Patrick because he 1. Doesn't give a shit, and 2. Probably lives up to all the stereotypes Henry believes of dark skinned black men (cunning, violent, sneaky, ect.).

-It the musical Henry is really just one messy hodge podge of internalized misogyny, anti blackness, and the inability to accept his trans identity.

[lady-phasma]

Hello there, I loved your previous answer to an anon question and you made a comment about your previous experience of getting attached to characters or people because of loneliness and depression. Please can I ask how you overcome that and what perspective you had about this? How did you frame it in your mind? 🥰🥰🥰 I have never really experienced this before and I’m not why but I get happy and then feel sadness because I know im projecting and it’s not real. In my real life I’m pretty confident but I would like to start dating and meeting someone but have a crush on a character or actor has been easier than going out there and approaching people I like. Any advice would be brilliant. Also I have felt that when it has come to people like EM etc the stories about how they actually got there and the way in which they have made sacrifices and had challenges gets glossed over. It’s always look at how well they have done which is right, but not it’s taken lots of hard work and lots of rejections and learning behind closed doors to get them in this position. The glamorisation of actors can be really off putting for me as it’s amazing that they are getting the credit they deserve but the toil to get there is rarely mentioned.

Hi anon! I think this is the ask you are referring to. Thank you. 💜 I'm glad you enjoyed it. Let me tell you today turned out to be the day to ask this. We have gotten so many Ewan crumbs today. It's honestly a bit overwhelming.

I'm going to start with: your emotions are not weird or uncommon! The first thing we have to do is be compassionate with ourselves. I have a couple moots who needed some distance this week, not because of drama, just to be in the real world more and less overwhelmed. I spent half of Sunday without any technology so I could give my brain a break. So do your absolute best to be compassionate toward yourself.

Next, regarding this:

you made a comment about your previous experience of getting attached to characters or people because of loneliness and depression. Please can I ask how you overcome that and what perspective you had about this? How did you frame it in your mind?

This answer will be quite long, settle in. I will use some healthier examples from my Matt Smith fandom and a couple from back when I had a harder time coping. The timing does overlap in my life a bit because Matt has been part of my life since he and I were 25-26 years old (I phrased it like that even though it's odd, because I want people to understand that most of what I am going to be discussing was before I turned 30).

I think this is the comment you were talking about:

lady-phasma: Oh man I have had attachments in the past, at points in my life that could have become obsessions because of loneliness or depression (not applying that to this anon) and have had to take a step back and think "okay I actually don't know this person!"

That's the context here's the first part of the answer. Cognitive behavioral therapy helped a lot. Not for the attachments to actors/public figures, but for what was actually going on with me (which I'm not going to go into too much detail about). My sister and I call these actors "emotional support actors" (gender neutral). There have been times that it wasn't the actor, but a specific character which helped me through a difficult time. When I was in a slowly-dying relationship, Ryan Gosling helped me feel less alone through roles like Drive and Crazy, Stupid Love. I want to be clear that I am not discussing parasocial relationships exactly (here's an article about those that is fairly unbiased). I don't have a problem discussing them and I have possibly unpopular opinions about them, but that's a distinction I wanted to make here. I consumed all the Ryan Gosling content I could for over two years and his movies helped me during my breakup (yes, the relationship ended, thank fuck).

The way that I "overcame" it was by reframing the actor/character in my mind as a tool or coping mechanism (I was thrilled you said "frame" btw). In the recent past I said to a moot "these internet men are going to kill me." That made them laugh because "these internet men" are real people. I have even made posts about that. However, that is one of my ways of creating distance. The Ryan Gosling I learned about, watched every interview of, watched nearly his entire body of work, is not Ryan Gosling and never will be. Neither is Matt or Pedro or Ewan or Gwendoline Christie or any of them. So now, I think of them as tools that I use to give myself some comfort during a difficult time when it starts to escalate.

This is where I'll use Matt as an example because I have been able to do this with him since day one. I have written about it briefly before, the Eleventh Doctor showed up at a time in my life that was very difficult. I had no idea I needed him. It turns out the part was played by a gorgeous and talented actor. I know now that I can turn to Matt's films/tv shows for comfort and keep my emotional distance because, in many ways, he is a figment of my imagination. I'll note here that I also no longer consume detailed personal facts about actors. I know a lot of people enjoy that but outside of knowing things Matt has said in interviews and his birthday and height I have no clue who he dates and when. No idea where he likes to vacation or grab a pint. This applies to any actor I like: the less I know, the better. That helps me from thinking that I know them. (I hope I explained that well.)

As you said, a projection. Watching his Doctor Who episodes is the same as a weighted blanket. It is comforting, self-care, and gives me space to not think.

I'm going to tie this into your other main question:

In my real life I’m pretty confident but I would like to start dating and meeting someone but have a crush on a character or actor has been easier than going out there and approaching people I like.

Ask any moot who knows me well and they can tell you I have a personal rule: if I start to have daydreams about meeting Matt I shut that shit down fast. And I mean fast. As soon as I realize I've done it I stop, take a step back, and use my self-awareness to isolate what I need in that moment. Am I lonely, hungry, overwhelmed, tired, anxious? This is personal boundary for me. I love daydreams but I want to maintain my on-going fangirling for Matt as long as possible. This approach works for me because maybe I need to text a friend or do some yoga or even get on a dating app. We can't always identify what the need is but it helps me to try. I am confident as well and have had lots of partners when I have the energy to put into those interactions. I don't always have that energy. I know why it's easier for me to crush/fangirl though this may not be your reason: I don't have to give up a single aspect of my life to another person, I don't have to be vulnerable because these are completely one sided situations. Matt will never ask me to meet his mom. Ewan will never need me to pick him up if he has a flat time. My time and my energy remain my own.

I don't have any kind of advice really. I'm aroallo and omnisexual and a cis female and you might be absolutely none of those things so my advice wouldn't help. But, human to human, pay attention to what you feel you are missing in your life and decide if you need to make it happen or if you can feel at peace without it. That is a question we have to ask over and over through our lives because we change so much.

I wish I had time to talk about the last bit you mentioned because it is important that we humanize actors and understand their struggles but I have gone on longer than most people will read. 💕 Thank you for coming to me, anon. I'm always here.

Just in case you decide to come back I gave you 📸 anon (because it felt appropriate and fun for fandom stuff) but feel free to pick your own if you don't like that.