#I used to have depression and now I don’t

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates - part 2

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; reader might have a crush on Kyra ;)

Word count: 3.4k

| PART 1 HERE |

Over the next few days, Kyra and Y/n settle into a comfortable, domestic routine.

Kyra was the first to wake up each day. She went straight to Y/n’s room to check on her and give her her morning medication, along with a cup of black coffee.

Y/n didn’t like mornings, especially now with the heavy cast on her leg. Kyra, on the other hand, loved mornings, so she sat by Y/n’s bed and chatted for 20 minutes straight while Y/n nodded along to whatever Kyra was saying.

“—And that's how we’re beating Man United this weekend,” Kyra concluded after a long thought process about technical strategies that would lead the Gunners to yet another victory. “I mean, they can’t keep putting her as a winger, right?” Kyra turned to Y/n, waiting for her to nod again.

“How can you have so much to say at 7 am?” Y/n asked, hiding her face in her pillow.

“I just do, it’s a talent, you wouldn’t know it, Grumpy,” Kyra shrugged and threw herself on the bed next to Y/n, the sunlight hitting Kyra’s freckles.

Kyra was wearing tracksuit bottoms and an old, oversized t-shirt, she looked pretty, comfy, and very cuddly too.

“Will you come with me today?” Kyra asked, changing the subjects, caution in her voice.

“Where?” Y/n asked confused, her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t supposed to go to physiotherapy or the doctor for another two weeks.

“Training?” Kyra explained, holding her head with one hand as she rested her elbow on the mattress. “They miss you, the girls, I mean. You could go there for a few hours, talk to Alessia, Leah, Steph… I bet Win misses you too,”

“I’m not in the mood,” Y/n said, turning her back to Kyra. Y/n missed the girls, but it would be too upsetting to see them running around while she could barely stand on her own.

“You’ve said that the last three times, Y/n” Kyra sighed. “You haven’t left the house, not once, and you also won’t talk to anyone but me and your mom. That’s worrying. You can’t just wait for me to come home every day, you also need to do relaxing and fun things for yourself.” Y/n felt a pleasant pressure on her shoulder. It was Kyra’s hand.

You can’t just stay here in bed and rot, maybe you could start a new hobby! Painting, sudoku, I don’t know!””Kyra continued, using the serious tone she never used with Y/n. “You need to see people, see your friends, get some fresh air.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “And do what? Talk about how miserable I am all the time?” Y/n said bitterly.

Kyra didn’t understand.

She had never been seriously injured before, she didn’t know what it was like to just go to bed every day not knowing what the future held. Football was everything to Y/n. It was her passion, her hobby and her career. Ninety per cent of her friends were footballers themselves, her whole social circle revolved around football.

Without it, she was nothing Football’s been her thing since she was a kid. Y/n had grown up with a ball on her feet, and now it was gone, and she didn’t know if she would get it back. Right now, Y/n was nothing.

Kyra pressed her lips together and stared at the girl, trying to think of what to say.

“Go away please, I want to be alone,” Y/n muttered after the room had gone quiet.

“No,” Kyra said. “Let’s talk about this, let’s—”

“Go. Away.” Y/n snapped.

Y/n felt the shift in the mattress. Kyra wasn’t sitting on it anymore. “You can’t keep pushing people away, it’ll only hurt you even more,” Kyra said quietly. “You can’t let yourself go like that, you know how easy it is for us athletes to get depressed after an injury, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I’m not depressed, Kyra!” Y/n locked eyes with the other girl, anger slowly building in her chest. “I just don’t have anything! If I talk to the girls all I’ll think about is how they’re playing and I’m not.

“You don’t have anything?!” Kyra raised her voice. “What do you mean you have nothing? You’re not just your fucking leg, or your football—You’re a whole person! Just because you can’t play right now doesn’t mean you have no worth.”

Y/n remained silent as Kyra’s voice escalated. Kyra was starting to get angry with her. Kyra had never been angry with her before.

“You are injured! Your tibia split in two, of course, it’ll take some time to heal. Does that mean you have to stay in the house for the remaining months? Of course not!” Kyra’s face was flushed, and she was out of breath.

“Kyra, my whole life had been inside a pitch, I don’t know how the fuck to live without knowing if I’ll ever be in one again!” Y/n exploded, pointing at her cast “And this fucking leg hurts all the time, it’s always a reminder of how unhappy I am and how the world kept on moving while I just stay here!”

“But you don’t have to just stay here! You are the one who is avoiding the world, but it hasn’t stopped for you, it never has! Especially because you have people who care about you! You would know that if you would answered your phone when your friends called,” Kyra rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

“Why is it so hard for you to be kind and patient with yourself?” Kyra asked, looking genuinely confused, trying to find the answer to her question on Y/n’s face. “It’s so easy to treat you well, I don’t know why you find it so difficult.”

Kyra finally took a deep breath, and then another.

“Okay, I’m calm now. I’m sorry,” Kyra said, unclenching her fist. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you, I know you’re frustrated and angry right now. I just wish you’d be more compassionate with yourself and your body.

The room was silent.

“I’ll just… go then. I have to be at training in half an hour anyway,” Kyra took a step closer to where Y/n was lying, she dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. “Just don’t—rot in bed the whole day, ok? I’ll buy you some food and send it over at lunchtime so you can eat something other than crisps”.

Y/n felt her skin warm where Kyra had kissed her. She barely had time to process it before Kyra pulled away. “Okay, thank you,” Y/n whispered, she couldn’t help the blush creeping up her neck.

She should say something, she should say how sorry she was and how ungrateful she had been, Kyra didn’t complain about having to put up with her. Often Y/n felt that she didn’t deserve to have Kyra by her side and now was one of those times. She felt embarrassed by the way she just acted.

Y/n wasn’t someone who felt at ease with vulnerability. She didn’t normally let people see her at her lowest, except her closest friend, of course, but even now the thought of seeing them, of going back to Arsenal, even if for a few hours, felt excruciating.

It was as if life was mocking Y/n. Everyone’s life would go on, even if hers was frozen in time. Arsenal still had good and healthy athletes to train.

Kyra still had responsibilities to attend ttoY/n didn’t, not for the months ahead of her.

Eight months the doctor said, eight months until (and if) she could run. Would she be this bitter for that long? Was she going to stay frustrated with everything and everyone forever? Was she going to shut herself off from her teammates—her friends—if she didn’t heal the way she intended?

Change was a slow process, but Y/n decided to start it right now.

“Ky?” Y/n called.

“Yeah?”

“I’m being an idiot,” Y/n admitted.

Kyra smiled. “Yeah, you kind of are.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n apologized. Small steps.

“It’s fine, you are a lot meaner when you lose at UNO, it didn’t scare me.”

Both girls smiled at each other.

Kyra held no grudges; it was one of the things Y/n admired the most about her.

“But if you really want me to forgive you, you’ll let me do something,” Kyra added, mischievous in her voice.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “What?’

“You’ll see,” Kyra said before leaving the room. “I’ll be back around 3 pm, see you!”

Y/n heard the front door close, and now she was alone. Y/n thought she enjoyed being alone, but deep down she didn’t. She missed Kyra when she was away. The house no longer felt warm and comforting; instead; it felt cold and isolated.

Y/n thought about Kyra’s words; about her being kind to others and not to herself. When Beth and Viv tore their ACLs, Y/n committed herself to take their dogs on a walk every day, since the couple couldn’t walk.

When Vic got injured Y/n made sure she was left alone during the physio sessions. When Leah also tore her ACL she made sure to call her every day to see how she was doing; Leah, unlike Y/n, answered her calls.

Y/n had so much love and support around her. She needed it to allow herself to receive it.

Y/n looked around her room. It felt strange now. Before her surgery, she had thought the room was rather cosy, with its green walls and light wooden furniture, but now it felt like a prison.

Maybe Kyra would agree to put on a mattress in the living room and make it into a bed. Then both girls could just sleep there, and watch some films. It would probably bring Y/n some comfort.

..

Hours later Kyra came back from training wearing a black kit. Her hair was in a ponytail, with grass and dirt on it. Y/n wasn’t sure if it was because of their fight earlier, but Kyra seemed different somehow . Even though Kyra was all dirty, y/n couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked. She realised she hadn’t seen Kyra with her hair in a ponytail before, she always wore it in a bun. It was nice, maybe the new hairstyle was the reason why Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

Cute, Kyra is cute.

She has always been cute, of course, but in the last few days, she looked even prettier. It’s okay to think your friends are cute. It was normal. Y/n thought to herself as Kyra bent down to take out her shoes, the black legging hugging her body. The book Y/n had in hand long forgotten.

Hot. Y/n thought. She was hot.

Maybe it wasn’t okay to think your friends were hot.

“Sorry?” Kyra asked turning to face Y/n.

Y/n widened her eyes. “What? Y/n said, her cheeks flushed. Fuck, had she said that out loud? And why did she sound so defensive? Chill out. “I didn’t say anything., she said, in a calmer tone, closing her book.

“Yes, you did,” Kyra insisted, looking at her with a smile. She let her hair out of the ponytail, letting it fall over her shoulder.

“Nop! You’re going mad, I’m afraid.” Y/n asserted, chin up.

“It must be all the time we spend together, then” Kyra raised a brow.

A lot of time together, indeed.

“Wait, is that a book? I haven’t seen you with a book for a while, I’m proud you still know your letters.” Kyra continued, a smirk on her face

Kyra was right, thought. With football and national camps, she hadn’t had time to read. It had been embarrassing years since she picked up a book. But now she had time, so she just took advantage of it.

“Haha you’re so funny,” Y/n said dryly. “You told me to do something nice for myself, so I decided to read this book I had lying around,” Y/n said, proudly.

Kyra looked dramatically surprised. “Wow, you actually listened to me? Did something happen while I was gone? Did you fall? Oh, you might have brain haemorrhage!”

“The ability you have to turn a normal conversation into a sarcastic one will always blow my mind,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

“Good thing I love to blow your mind,” Kyra said before realizing the double meaning of what she just said.

The girls stared at each other.

“Okay that was awkward,” Kyra mumbled, blushing. “I mean it like—”

Y/n laughed, thinking it was cute how embarrassed Kyra looked. Usually, Kyra was the one who put people in awkward situations.

“It’s all right, I got what you meant,” Y/n said, offering a small smile. “So—” She changed the subject, not wanting Kyra to feel uncomfortable. “What was that thing you wanted me to do so you can forgive me?”

Kyra looked at her watch. “You won’t have to do anything. But they will be here soon.”

Y/n frowned slightly. “Did you get that line from some horror film? Who the hell are they?”

Kyra rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun, I’m trying to be mysterious here”.

“You sound suspicious, not mysterious!”

“Oh, shut up, just sit there and look pretty, no more questions, please.”

Y/n welcomed the compliment “Why, because you won’t be able not to tell me?” She challenged.

Kyra was the worst secret keeper she had ever known.

“You know me so well actually!” Kyra said. “Stop asking questions. I’m going to take a shower, but I’ll be right back,” Kyra said before heading upstairs.

Don’t go. Y/n almost said. Almost begged her to keep that kit on so Y/n could just look at her for a few moments.

The thing was: Y/n got used to having Kyra around, not just because she needed Kyra’s help to get things done, but because she just…appreciated her presence.

Y/n was always bored to tears while Kyra was away for training or a match day, so when Kyra came home, Y/n wanted her all to herself. Which was a bit strange.

Kyra Cooney-Cross was making Y/n think of very, very weird things. She wasn’t necessarily upset about it, though.

Minutes later Kyra stepped out of the shower, wearing sweatpants and an Arsenal hoodie. Y/n welcomed the sight more than she’d ever admit. Kyra was pretty, prettier than yesterday and the day before that.

Was Y/n suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning? Could that be the reason she was fancying Kyra? As it genuinely finding her attractive and not a bets mate type of way?

Kyra was attractive, of course. But Y/n hadn’t realised just how much it messed with her mind, and mostly her body. Kyra was her friend. Not as in a friends-with-benefits thing, but oh they could be, Y/n would be happy about that.

Kyra moved in to help me out, that’s all. She doesn’t like me that way, and that’s fine. Totally fine. Y/n bit her nails, trying to convince herself.

Before Y/n could spiral any further, Kyra clapped her hands and told Y/n to get ready, because apparently, the visitors they were having over were about to arrive.

An hour later Alessia and Leah stopped by with a warm lasagna on Leah’s hands.

It turned out that Kyra was only forgiving Y/n if she agreed to meet some of their friends and socialise for a few hours. “It’ll do you good” Kyra had said.d

“Hey, pest,” Leah greeted Kyra at the door. “How’s your pest doing? She hasn’t been answering mine or Lessie’s messages for a while now, is she dead? Did you kill her?”

“Well good evening to you too, Leah,” Kyra said ironically, letting both Leah and Alessia in, after kissing Alessia on the cheek.

“Why can’t you be like Alessia, she is so nice!” Kyra pouted, pointing at the blonde girl, “She doesn’t call me a pest or anything.”

Leah laughed and handed Kyra the lasagna. “Lessie girl is too nice to ever tell you the truth.”

Kyra and Leah continued their bickering while Alessia made herself at home. The girl was very familiar with Y/n’s house, having spent many film night’s here with Y/n and Kyra before Y/n’s injury.

Alessia went into the living room, where she found Y/n sitting on the couch, crutches propped up to the side.

“Less” y/n said cheerfully.

“Hey sweetie, how are you doing?” Alessia sat by Y/n’s side, hugging her. “God, I missed you so much, you have no idea.”

Y/n smiled and leaned further into Alessia’s embrace. “I missed you too, I feel like dying every time Kyra goes to training and I have to stay here by myself., Y/n confessed.

“Oh, so you miss me when I’m away. That is so lovely to hear!” Kyra's mischievous voice filled the living room as the girl elbowed Leah, “See, I told you she wasn’t bored of me yet.”

“Take me with you, Less, please.” Y/n playfully whispered in Alessia’s ear before the girl’s body was replaced by a taller and leaner one.

Leah hugged Y/n and patted her back before lightly smacking the top of her head.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Y/n whined, pouting.

“Me, Beth, Less, Kim—we’ve all been texting you non-stop, and you won’t text us back!” Leah scolded. “We’re not just your teammates, we’re your friends, in case you forgot!”

“Tough love. Told you.” Kyra chimed in from the corner of the room.

“Shut up, Kyra,” Leah and Y/n said in unison.

Y/n kept her eyes down, feeling a little embarrassed. Leah wasn’t wrong, though. Over the past week, she’d only been texting two people: her mom—because otherwise, she’d probably sent the police down; and Kyra—so she could pick up some snacks for Y/n on her way home.

“I know being injured is hard, but you can’t isolate yourself, especially form us!” Leah continued with a gentle reprimand. “You’re only going to feel worse.”

Leah pointed at Alessia, who was now standing next to Kyra. “Lessie told me you didn’t laugh at the memes she sent you! It’s Less, mate—you can’t make Lessie sad.”

If Y/n wasn’t being lectured by her captain, she would’ve laughed at how Leah was using Alessia’s sweetheart personally to make Y/n feel remorse about being a bad friend.

“Also,” Leah continued, now turning to Kyra. “Can you imagine how hard it is to rely on someone like Kyra for updates? Yesterday, she thought it’d be funny to tell Steph one of your bone screws had come loose.”

Y/n snapped her head towards Kyra, who suddenly looked like a kid caught red-handed. “I didn’t even get screws in my surgery! The doctor used locking compression plates instead!” Y/n argued.

“Well, you tell that to Steph,” Leah said dryly. “She cried and said we should call the surgeon responsible for letting you leave the hospital with a loose screw in your leg before Kyra finally told her she was just joking and that you were fine at home.”

“I didn’t think she would actually believe it,” Kyra winced, looking away, a small blush crept onto her cheeks.

“Steph got back at Kyra, don’t worry, Y/n,” Alessia added smiling. “Kyra is now responsible for walking Win every day before training.”

“I hate walking,” Kyra mumbled.

“Should’ve thought of that before messing with Steph,” Leah smirked.

“I was just trying to lighten the mood!” Kyra groaned.

“You don’t always have to fix things with jokes,” Y/n said smiling. “But I appreciate you are—at some point— giving updates to the girls. Still, leave that to me, I’ll start texting you guys back. I am sorry” Y/n apologized, glancing at Leah and Alessia.

“It’s all right kid, we’ve all been there, injuries bring out the worst in us,” Leah said, patting Y/n’s shoulder. “Now can we please eat the lasagna Lessie has made us? I’m starving!”

“You made your lasagna?” Y/n asked, her mouth-watering.

“Sure did. I know it’s your favourite,” Alessia said with a wink.

“May you be blessed for all eternity, Less,” Y/n said with an utmost stone face. “It’s been days since I’ve had good food.”

Kyra helped Y/n with her crutches before asking, a firm hand on her lower back. “Days? I’ve been making nutritious meals for us since you got back from the hospital!”

“Putting frozen pizza in the oven isn’t ‘making nutritious meals,’” Y/n teased, accepting Alessia’s hand as she sat down on the dining chair.

“I’m trying my best here,” Kyra huffed, crossing her arms.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a kiss to Kyra’s cheek. “Yeah, Yeah, I know. And I appreciate it very much.” She smiled.” Now let’s eat before Leah passes out from hunger.”

..

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

Tell me if you would like to read any special scene with Kyra and reader!

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[water-loos]

Forever

“I’m glad I get forever to see where you end.”

steve harrington x bookish!shy!fem!reader

masterlist

cw: fluff. fluff. FLUFF!!! based around “forever” by noah kahan. steve is such a cutie pie

wc: 2.5k

a/n: happy valentine’s day!! i’ve had this sitting unfinished in my notes for months and thought today was the day to finish it. here’s boyfriend steve for u all <3

You had dreamed of a whirlwind. Just like the storybooks that lived on your bookshelf, you wanted someone to sweep you off your feet and give you the fairytale life you’d always dreamed of. You wanted a small house near a creek, and a front yard with wildflowers, and a forest green front door.

But you were not dealt the dream life cards.

Love passed you by and by, over and over. Never once had you successfully found someone who made your heart beat out of your chest, no matter how hard you tried to make the people you talked to “the one”. It just never happened, especially in a city full of millions of people, which made it easier for people to become strangers. It was lonely, and sometimes depressing, but it was simply how the cookie crumbled for you.

You had gotten used to failed romance after failed romance by the time you had finished your first year of college, and devoted your time to school work and living your life to the fullest. It was rewarding and simple, and it was a happy enough life for you.

Generally, you spent your summer days walking through the giant park and green spaces that lined the shoreline of Chicago, gazing over the clear blue water with a pink lemonade in your hand. You quietly watched families marvel at Buckingham Fountain when the music played every hour, and lounged on the hill behind the aquarium as bikers avoided tourists on the path beside the lake. It was peaceful, and you liked how far away the city seemed from there, nothing but buildings across a lake that was hitting against the wall loud enough to drown out a lot of background noise.

You were walking to the hill on a sunny Wednesday in July, sunglasses perched on your nose and a book in your hand just dying to be read when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Initially, the contact caused you to bristle with irritation, because you were just a few steps away from your favorite spot, but as soon as you saw the prettiest boy you’d ever seen holding your bookmark, you didn’t have it in you to be upset.

He was boyishly handsome, with a lopsided smile and eyes like pools of honey. His face had freckles sparsely placed on his cheeks and jaw, with a cluster right on the bridge of his nose. His hair was mussed just enough, and he looked like he had been running to catch you, his cheeks pink. Your heart sped up at the sight of him.

“You found my bookmark!” You said softly, cheeks pink as you took it from his outstretched hand. “Thank you so much. I would have gone crazy if I had lost that.”

“Bench girl,” He muttered, eyes a little wide. He watched your eyebrows furrow as you stepped back a little. He panicked to correct himself. “Sorry, it’s no problem. You’re the girl that sits on the bench by the fountain every day.”

You snorted a little, embarrassed. “I am, yeah. That’s crazy that you recognize me.”

“I run through the park every afternoon and stop by the fountain to cool down,” He explained, smiling wide. It made your stomach flutter. “I’ve been working up the courage to make some sort of conversation for a couple weeks now, actually.”

You laughed quietly at that, blushing a little harder. “Really? You should have. I don’t bite, I promise.”

“Well, now I have an excuse,” He nodded toward the bookmark and holds out his hand. “Hi. I’m Steve.”

———

You saw Steve very often after that day in the park. He came and sat with you on your bench every day, he’d walk you to your spot on the hill and lounge like something out of a french painting with his wired headphones and a notebook while you read. He’d ask you about your books every night over text messages, and he’d call you at least once in the morning from his car to make sure you’d be at your bench waiting for him. You’d tell him that you weren’t waiting for him, and he’d do that stupid little laugh of his and say “Sure you aren’t.”

Then he’d started to bring you a fresh basket of blueberries from his favorite farmers market for your time on the hill. And he bought you a picnic blanket that folded up just enough to fit in the thin backpack he ran with, and he’d sneak pressed flowers into the folds. Then you started to find post it notes in your mailbox, and he’d video call you when he was in his cramped kitchen, and he’d tell you all about how he bought an entire recipe book full of baked goods that he was going to make for you.

It felt like you were living in a world you didn’t know existed. It was so unbelievably perfect, the way Steve had wedged a place into your daily routine. He was patient with you, understanding from your long winded goodnight calls that you were a little out of your depth, and made sure to let you know how much he wanted to be in your life. Not just in a romantic capacity, no matter how many times he’d look at you as if you were everything, but as someone you could rely on. He’d always answer you. He’d drop anything he was doing if you needed him, and he told you that on a regular basis.

He wanted to do life with you, and the thought of doing life with Steve finally felt right.

You had invited him inside after your daily walk after a sudden snowstorm on Valentine’s Day when you decided to tell him. The two of you were dried off and bundled in the warmest sweater you could find in your closet, lounging on your couch as some movie you didn’t know the name of played in the background. You had a mug of hot chocolate that he had made for you cradled between your hands when you decided, and the moment had come after you took a sip and dared to look up at him for the first time in half an hour. He was the picture of comfortable in your commemorative Cape Cod hoodie, with the blanket your grandmother had crocheted for you draped across his legs, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. His hair was still a little damp from the rain, and he had his head propped up on his hand on the arm of the couch, smushing his cheek. He looked more perfect than you thought was possible right then, and something about that image was enough for your apprehension to open yourself up to him to disappear.

“Hey Steve,” You said quietly, setting your mug on the coffee table gently. Your voice caught his attention immediately, his head rising.

With that smile that stopped your heart every single day, he turned slightly toward you. “Hey, pretty.”

“Y’know how you told me you’d be upset if I wasn’t in your life months ago?”

“Yes. I’d be devastated.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

“Of course I do,” His eyes softened ever so slightly as he turned fully toward you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I’m just thinking, that’s all,” You shrugged, cheeks warm. “I know I’ve been kind of… behind. On the whole us thing.”

“Behind?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been trying to ask me out since we met, and I never said yes,” You sucked in a tiny breath. “Just wanted to make sure if that offer still stands.”

Steve lit up, sitting a little straighter and leaning toward you. “Do you want the offer to still stand?”

“I really hope it does.”

His hand reached out to grab yours, his touch that you hadn’t purposefully felt before gentle and soft against your skin. “It always stands. It’s been standing since I came up to give your that bookmark.”

“Good. I’d really really really like to be your girlfriend. Or at least your Valentine. Or whatever you want me to be. Even though it took me forever.”

He used your intertwined hands to pull you toward him, your knees knocking as you moved toward him on the couch. Your heart pumped out of your chest as you fit beside him perfectly, bodies clicking together like puzzle pieces. “I’d wait for you forever if you needed me to, sweetheart.”

“Am I worth forever?”

“You’re worth everything.”

Your heart soared. You didn’t think you were anything much to almost anyone in the past, but when Steve said everything, you believed him. You believed him so much that you think something inside of you changed.

That change spurred you to lean up from your spot and kiss him with the force of your beating heart. You kissed him with all of the feelings you had been ignoring, you kissed him to make up for all of the times you should have, and you kissed him to tell him that he was worth everything to you too.

His opposite arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and kissed back with the same amount of care and adoration. There was a slight smile on his lips, you could feel it.

Once the two of you broke for a breath, he laughed. It was the sweetest sound, like birdsong in the mornings.

“I don’t have any prospects,” He snorted softly, a hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face. “You sure you want little old me?”

“When have I ever cared about prospects?”

“I don’t know. I’ve looked at the books you read,” He laughed a little louder, and you did too. “I’m not one of those super awesome badass romance book guys. Just making that clear.”

“I think you’re a super awesome badass romance book guy,” You shook your head slightly. “Better than one, actually.”

“Really? Y’think so?” He grew soft again, his head cocking slightly. It made your head spin.

“Of course I do. You bring me pastries and flowers and you call me just because and you stop on your walk and mess up your run time just for me,” You list off, maneuvering yourself to let your legs drape over his and your hands came up to rest in the dips of his shoulders, fingers tapping as you spoke. “Those are the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me. And you do them just because. That rocks.”

“I’m glad you think it rocks, sweetheart,” He laughs softly. “That’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“It’s also not like I have any prospects either. I had to save up for your Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? You got me a gift?” His face became entirely animated, his confusion so evident on his face that it made you laugh. “Were you planning on asking me out all day?”

“No, I wasn’t. Well, not like that at least. I was gonna hype myself up, and then ask you to come over for dinner, and then do this whole thing, but then we got snowed in and you just looked so cozy so I just did it,” You rambled, cheeks warming steadily. “It sounds so much more embarassing saying it out loud.”

“That’s adorable, actually. Your gift should be showing up soon, though. I had it at home but I’m having my roommate drive it over because I don’t want to leave,” He smiles, proud of himself. “You’re gonna freak out.”

“If you got me something crazy I swear to god—“

“It’s nothing crazy. I just really think I did a good job at picking a gift.”

“Can I at least show you what I got you before you declare that you one upped me?” You laugh again, swinging your legs off of him to get up. He let you go, watching as you walked toward your kitchen to grab the gift. You walked back over with a medium-sized red bag, plopping yourself right back in his lap as you presented it to him. “Ta-da.”

He kissed your cheek over and over again, paying no mind to the bag you were holding for him. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to. It isn’t much but I got you stuff that I know you’ve been needing so I hope it’s alright.”

“You could give me a bag of trash and I’d be happy as a clam. Trust me,” He hummed and looked into the bag, his eyes somehow growing wider and his lips parting slightly. “Sweetheart, what’s all this?”

“Well,” You reached forward to take out the few items that were in the bag. “I got you a pocket gourmet recipe book so you don’t have to lug around the big one whenever you go home to visit your family, and I got you a recipe notebook so you can put your own in one place.”

He gaped, flipping through the empty leather bound recipe notebook. He stopped a few pages in, reading over some of the recipes that you had put into it already. They were a few fun dinners that the two of you had created together, with silly doodles and informal language all over the pages.

“I put a few in there already. And then, this is a new hand bound notebook that I made in my leatherwork class. I know you’ve been using a regular notebook to draw in and journal in because you filled your old one, so I made it with the dotted paper just how you like it,” You handed that to him, flipping it over to show him the monogram you pressed into it. “And then there’s new drawing pencils and I made some macarons. They’re vanilla and cinnamon.”

His jaw fully dropped after you finished speaking, causing you to laugh softly.

“Baby, you’re kidding, right?” He slowly turned his head toward you, cheeks pink and a glistening layer over his eyes. “This is what you consider not much?”

“Well, yeah. It’s just stuff you needed. The only thing that’s like Valentine’s-y is the macarons—“

“I literally think I might cry. Seriously,” He quickly put everything in the bag, throwing his arms around you and burying his head into your neck. “Thank you. So much. That’s the best and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever bought me.”

“You deserve it,” You murmured into his hair, letting your fingers play with the shorter hair at the back of his neck. “Do you still think you one-upped me?”

“Hell no. You won. Like knocked it out of the park won.”

“Good. You’ve been so good to me for so long, and it’s time I returned the favor.”

[meritski]

no (hyoid) bone to pick • heizou x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of suicide, murder, blood, and corpses (nothing very detailed but please be aware) , reader is a forensic scientist

“Regarding the victim’s past mental health problems and the medicine she has been using for the past months, her suicide can be explained by the depression she’s been experiencing. The divorce must have taken a toll on her. Poor soul, may she rest in peace.”

Heizou gave the man in front of him a close-eyed smile, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes at all. ‘Bullshit.’ The interview was not going to his liking, it seemed. 

“Ah, I see. Thank you for your input and contribution.”

The man’s eyes lit up immediately. 

“So, May I take my lea—”

“Ah, there is my favorite doctor!”

Heizou stood up quickly, leaving the man hanging in the room while not batting an eye. Intentionally, of course.

On the other hand, hearing his loud and somewhat energetic voice, you sighed while arranging the papers that were in your hands. You seemed tired, he noted. And worst of all, you seemed in a bad mood. Ah.

“Hey.”

It was a simple, curt response. One that he expected but didn’t like it nonetheless. He decided he wasn’t going to dampen your mood by wasting your time even more like he usually did. 

“Got any news?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Not good ones, I suppose?”

“Well, good for the investigation.”

“Oh, they must be bad then.”

“It’s probably not a suicide,”

Hearing him hum in acknowledgment, you sighed and thought: ‘Of course, he’d guess’ and continued. 

“Their hyoid bone is fractured and they are past 30, which means their bones are not flexible at all, also since they don’t weigh much— It’s unlikely for the hanging to cause a fracture. So I’d say it’s most likely to be a…”

You were giving a piece of important information while his thoughts were having none of it.

‘Are they rambling? Cute.’

“Yeah, guessed so.”

“I could guess you’d guess, detective. I am afraid that’s all I got. I wasn’t even allowed in the medical examination room, and the autopsy reports are—”

“Whoa, you sneaked a peek for me? My my, aren’t you adorable—”

“Shut up.”

He laughed. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, his presence was comforting. After being surrounded by dead bodies and the smell of blood all day— his cologne was refreshing in a way. And maybe his personality was also helping you to clear your head. But you’d never say that to his face and feed his ego even more.

You let out the breath you weren’t aware of holding and spoke again,

“Can you get me the blood samples of their ex-husband?”

“Ah, so we are on the same page. Though I don’t know why you need it, of course.”

This was surprisingly going well; you were waiting for him to play around a bit first. Well, it clearly saved you from the headache.

“Thanks,”

Finally, your eyes met his. Ah, now looking at him closely, he seemed tired too. Though it didn’t affect his smile, his eyes were telling a different story.

“...want to grab a drink?”

Okay, maybe the tiredness didn’t affect his smile, but your suggestion clearly did wonders because you could’ve sworn his eyes shined at the sound of it.

“Lead the way, then.”

He extended his hand to you. You looked at it for a few seconds before placing the reports on it. You opened your phone and looked at the time, all while avoiding his eyes, the words slipped between your lips,

“The café or the vending machine?”

 “...vending machine.”

His tone sounded like a disappointed child who was pouting. 

Good thing you didn’t look at him because, boy, was he sulking. He mentally sighed and followed after you.

‘So much for wanting them to hold my hand.’

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!

☆ heizou is my baby, i love him sm <3

☆ not proofread (again), so it might get rewritten later! (it probably won’t, anyway)

☆ why do i study medicine?

☐ money

☐ my family forced me to do so

☐ because i want to help people

☒ to write fanfics based on what i’ve learned in class

[pancake404]

Character(s) Descriptions in the Limbo: Hoppy Hopscotch

You’d be surprised to find out that even if Hoppy was typically seen as part of the Save Haven, she had developed a bond with the big bad Catnap/Theo. They are so close that Playcare functioned as a second Safe Haven(though the Nightmare Critters were ruthless) which made supply bringing a lot easier. All she had to do was get past the Doctor. Though…Hoppy might’ve not told Catnap that those supplies were for toys that mainly were considered Heretics which Dogday is aware of and constantly reminds her of that fact(she’s scared that it’ll break her and Catnap apart). She also feels guilt about…leaving Catnap alone the way she did because if she hadn’t, maybe Catnap wouldn’t have gone feral on Dogday’s lower half.

This guilt is reflected with her Mirror which is “MOON” and it typically appears as just a floating moon whenever she thinks negatively about topics regarding Catnap. It strengthens and Sawyer’s(not actually the Doctor) eye appears which leads to manipulation and similar effects to Dogday and his mirror. However, instead of going manic, she becomes more depressed and the moon becomes a container which grabs her and keeps her within while the Doctor taunts further. It could also trap others and hold them “hostage”.

The Doctor appears in the mirror because it was he who got into her head, convincing her of committing while Catnap was made to watch.

Hoppy still has a great admiration of the moon and while others have intense negative feelings of Catnap(Dogday is…complicated), Hoppy is grateful for him ever since he saved and helped her when he easily could’ve gotten rid of her. Her gratitude extends to near obsession which Catnap sometimes gets concerned that it’s similar to his perspective on the Prototype which he too is already having problems with.

The others are…concerned as well as some believed she developed a strong crush on him but Hoppy never gives a straight answer. But in the bright side, her being a middle ground could help the relationship between Catnap and other toys, maybe they all could be a community like in the Safe Haven. Or maybe some of them could be a friend group at least.

“Wait…he’s been distancing himself? Why? I know he isn’t liked much around here but he doesn’t seem to care about that, he would just be with us.”

“That’s what I think. Theo—Catnap just simply ended conversation early and walked away. Yarnaby followed and tried getting Catnap’s attention but he just pet Yarnaby’s head and without saying a word, just left.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“I don’t know. But I keep seeing that damn HAND when Catnap leaves. Why won’t it leave Catnap!? Why won’t it go away?!”

“Gone without his one and only savior…”

“Why is it him! Why did the Prototype have to get him!? For ten years straight Catnap listened to the Prototype! More than that! And now that the Prototype got rid of him…Catnap had been just a…”

“A broken soul? Empty fragment? Lost kitten?”

“Normally others would call him a monster. A lost monster. You’re the only one that would call him a “kitten”. But he behaves like a moon without sunlight. Invisible. Cloaked in empty space and darkness.”

“I wish I could be that sunlight…just a little more would be nice.”

“You would’ve been. We would’ve been. But I guess the Prototype got to him faster and drilled his memory in Catnap’s mind. Did he even care about him.”

“I don’t know….I hope so….for his sake….”

[lonely-ey3s]

With All My Love : Chapter 13 | road trip - part one

Chapter 13 : Road Trip pt. 1

Pairings: joel miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

Word count: 11.5k

Chapter Summary: After your engagement party you struggle to understand how you feel. However, after meeting with your therapist a couple times, Joel thinks a road trip would do you all good.

Chapter warnings: Chapter warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), public-ish sex, unprotected piv, anxiety, flashbacks of traumatic memories, mentions of PTSD anxiety, mentions of thoughts of unaliving, FLUFF, joel being an absolute lover, soft!joel, possessive!joel use of Spanish but with translations, use of y/n, and therapy session.

a/n: requests are open! please send prompts or things you would like to see more of!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics 

Main Masterlist

Joel woke up before you that next morning, finding you still wrapped in his arms, sleeping peacefully. Your facial features relaxed, a small smile etched into your lips, nothing harming you in your sweet dreams. 

He turned his head and looked at the time, seeing it was close to 10 am. 

He gently kissed your head and stroked your cheek which caused you to make a hum in your sleep and turn off of him, cuddling up to the pillow as you turned around, staying deep in sleep. 

He took that opportunity to get up and get some sweats and a t-shirt on before coming over and kissing your cheek, stroking your hair back, whispering, “I’m just going to make some calls downstairs… I’ll be back.” he kissed your cheek again as you sleepily nodded and smiled, “Ok cowboy…” you said heavy with sleep. 

He brushed your hair back and then grabbed his phone from the nightstand and headed down the stairs dialing Diane’s number, Sarah and Elena were already up and cooking breakfast. 

Within a few rings, Diane answered, “Diane speaking…” 

Joel cleared his throat, “Mornin’ Diane, it’s Joel Miller, how are you?” 

Diane smiled, “Joel, it’s so good to hear from you. I hear congratulations are in order!” 

Joel smiled softly and chuckled, “Yes, thank you. I uh… I was wondering if I could talk to you however about somethin’ else, do you have a few moments to talk?” 

Elena saw him coming down the stairs and went to greet him when she saw he was on the phone and looked at him, holding up the pan she was cooking with, nonverbally asking if he wanted any, he nodded and smiled, walking into the living room, sitting on the couch. 

“I uhm, I know Y/N doesn’t have another session with you for another week but I think she may need an emergency session, we had an incident last night that may have knocked her back a few steps.” Joel held the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he explained your mental state, still feeling frustrated by it. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. I appreciate you reaching out and would love to fit her for an emergency session today or tomorrow. What happened if you don’t mind me asking?” Diane asked softly. 

Joel sighed softly and thanked her before explaining the chain of events. He also explained more in-depth where you seemed to be mentally, how you were anxiously telling yourself you were too much for him and worried that mentality could make you depressed or even potentially suicidal if it continued without intervention. 

Diane agreed and said that was a concern of hers too after hearing how you were. She offered to see you sooner rather than later and said she had some time this evening to see you, said it would be best for him to come with, and depending on what you wanted, he could sit in the session or not, but she wanted him there in case anything happened with triggers. He agreed and said he would bring you to her office at 4 pm. 

Joel ended the call and sat on the couch for a moment, thinking what he needed to do from now until then, he looked at his phone and dialed Tommy’s number as he said he’d call him this morning. 

It rang a few times then Tommy picked up, “Hey, how’s she doing?” 

Joel cleared his throat, “Still in bed but she’s ok. I just got off the phone with Diane, she’s worried about some things she said when I got into bed last night and is getting her in for a session later today.” 

Tommy sighed softly, “What did she say? Is she going to be ok?” he worried he did something more than just trigger you. He knew the fragility of someone’s mental and emotional state once they got home and worried somehow he set something a lot bigger. 

“She was sayin’ things like how she was too much, how she’s a burden. She kept apologizin’ too… like somehow her reaction to the trauma she went through was her fault.” he said softly, feeling anxiety creep into his mind now, “What if I’m not enough Tommy? What if she needs more than what I can give her?” Joel said quietly, almost close to a whisper. 

“Joel, you’re kidding right? If you aren’t enough for her, then what does that make me for Maria? You are ten times the man I am… you move mountains for that girl, you’d rearrange the constellations and planets for her if it made her smile. You can’t seriously think you aren’t enough. You…” he sighed softly and chuckled, “Joel, she looks at you when you aren’t lookin’ like you molded the moon to hang for her in the night sky. She was lookin’ at you yesterday with every ounce of love that woman possesses in her heart… you’re it for her. Now you’ve got that ring on her finger, she’d go down to the courthouse in a matter of seconds if it meant becoming your wife. You never have to worry about bein’ enough.” he said bluntly.

Joel lightly chuckled and put his head in his hand, leaning on his knee, “I just always worry I’m not doin’ enough, you know?” 

Tommy tsked and chuckled, “I constantly feel the same way. We are though, we just need to start believin’ it.” 

Joel nodded and looked up at the wall in front of him, it had a photo of you, him, and Sarah hanging from one of her soccer games which made his heart warm and made him smile, “Anyway… I need to get back to things but I’ll keep you and Maria posted throughout the next couple of days. Maybe we can have you over for dinner or something, yeah?” 

Tommy smiled and nodded, “We’d like that.” 

Joel softly took in a breath and told his brother goodbye, sitting on the couch a moment longer before getting up and heading back upstairs with two plates of food that Elena had made for you two. 

Joel had woken you up and made sure you were fed but after you had eaten you went back to sleep after taking a shower, the events of the last few days and especially last night wearing down on you. 

Around 3 pm Joel softly woke you up and told you he got you an appointment with Diane to help with what happened last night but he needed you to wake up so you could get there on time. 

You slowly got up, getting dressed in some oversized jeans, in a vintage sports pullover of Joel’s, and doing your hair up in a messy bun. The goal was to be comfy and get through the rest of the day. 

To be completely honest you weren’t only sleeping because you were exhausted, you slept because it avoided the growing panic attack you felt growing inside your mind, feeling at any moment you were going to explode. 

Elena said she’d stay another night to help out so that he wouldn’t have to worry about Sarah or the house when he got back. You two could focus on what you needed as she assumed this session would take a lot out of you that already was low and fragile. 

Joel held onto your hand as he drove to Diane’s office across town, you focused on counting stop signs while he drove, trying to distract yourself. 

He didn’t push conversation or try to talk, he knew you had a lot going through your head as he saw how quickly your eyes would move from one thing to another, how you were starting to pick at your cuticles again, and your knee would bounce when you sat still. He put the radio on low and let the music fill the air. Occasionally gently squeezing your hand or pulling it to his lips to gently kiss it as he drove. 

He pulled into her parking lot, shut off the truck and turned to look your way, “Do you need a minute? We are here a little early if you need some time…” he gently ran his thumb over the top of your hand. 

You looked at the office doors and shook your head, you knew you were safe there, you knew that Diane’s office was somewhere you could seek help in times like this when your mind wouldn’t stop. 

“I’m ok. I think I’d like to go in now… sit down for a moment.” you said quietly, keeping your eyes on the door, reading the address and phone number on the door over and over again, not letting yourself think about anything else. 

Joel nodded and leaned over, kissing your temple gently, “Ok mi vida, one sec, I’ll come ‘round and get your door…” he opened the truck door and was careful to close it gently, then walked around and got your door, holding out his hand. 

You were staring at the door still, reading the numbers and spelling the street out letter by letter in your mind, your lips moving but not saying anything.  

Joel looked at you then followed your eye line to the door, seeing what was on the door then looked back at you, “1124 Teterbeen Street, Suite B, what’s the phone number baby?” 

You looked at him for a moment and saw his hand out, his big brown eyes eager to help you. You took his hand and got out of the truck, repeating the phone number to him softly. 

“Good, now remind me what’s the address again?” he kissed your temple as he gently shut the door of the truck and walked with you towards the door, listening as you read out the address. 

He opened the office door for you and walked with you inside.

Diane’s office smelled of lavender and eucalyptus which instantly calmed you. Joel could feel the rigidity in your body melt just a little as you held onto his arm. 

Diane’s receptionist smiled at you and Joel and then pushed a button on the desk, which silently let Diane know her next appointment was here by illuminating a lamp in her office just a tad that sat behind her patients so it never felt like they were being rushed but let her know to start wrapping up the session.

“She’s just finishing up, please make yourself comfortable.” she offered softly. 

You took a seat by the waterfall wall she had to bring a calm presence to the waiting area, it was somewhere you always sat before your sessions. 

Joel had never been inside the office, just always dropped you off as Diane always recommended you come in alone so you wouldn’t build a co-dependence on him but today was different, today Joel was there if you needed him you told yourself. 'I'm not alone.'

Joel looked at the wall and moved his hand to take yours, “This is pretty… has it always been here?” he spoke softly. 

You nodded, “She usually has it on. I think it’s to help calm us beforehand… she’s Pavlov-ing us.” you let out a soft snort. 

Joel chuckled, “Pavlov-ing? Like the dog and bell thing?” 

You nodded, “Positive reinforcement I imagine can be conditioned in many ways.” you shrugged, “After all, she is a psychologist, an expert in mind control…” you joked. 

Joel shook his head softly and kissed your head, chuckling, “She’d find that funny…” 

Diane’s office door opened and a young man walked out, thanking her and shaking her hand before he walked to the reception desk to schedule his next appointment. 

Diane smiled at you and cleared her throat, “Y/N… it’s so good to see you.” she came over and you stood, putting on a fake smile for her. 

“It’s good to see you too.” you nodded and put your hands behind you, starting to pick your cuticle, Joel sat and looked at Diane, smiling softly. 

“Well, in today’s session I’d like to speak with you about what happened last night and you’re welcome to have Joel sit out here or if you want, he can come in with you, but the choice is yours. I’ll just have him leave for a few minutes towards the end for you and me to talk about a few things one-on-one.” she smiled kindly and held her notepad against her chest, waiting for you to lead the way. 

You looked back at Joel and then at her, nodded, “Yeah um… can he come?” 

She nodded and smiled, backing up a could steps, “Of course. Let’s take a seat in here.” she held her arm out to guide you into her office. 

Joel stood and put his hand on the small of your back gently, “I’m right here…” he whispered to you, then walked with you as you hesitantly walked inside, all of a sudden feeling very anxious. 

You came around and sat down on the couch she had against the wall facing her chair, Joel joined next to you and softly offered his hand which you took and gently squeezed. 

She sat down and smiled at you, watching you very closely as you looked around and analyzed everything, zoning in on a new photo she had hanging behind her chair, “New photo I see… that’s uh… the Oregon coast, Lincoln city, yeah?” it showed a famous landmark from Lincoln City, Oregon’s beach.

You were deflecting and she knew it. It was something you did in the first couple of sessions you had with her when you started, she had a hard time calling you out on it without you getting defensive, telling her there was nothing wrong with making conversation. 

She knew today was not a day to call you out, instead acknowledged but slowly crawled into talking about what was going on. 

She nodded, “Exactly. You ever been there?” she smiled, leaning back in her chair. 

You shook your head and softly exhaled, “No… but there’s a resident pod of whales that visit there every season… it’s a bucket-list trip Joel and I have talked about doing eventually.” you smiled and looked down at his hand holding yours. 

She smiled and looked at Joel, who was watching you very attentively, gently stroking your hand with his thumb, “I hear it’s a beautiful place to visit. Maybe you two can go on your honeymoon…” She nodded towards your ring and smiled, “Congratulations by the way.” 

You looked at your ring and then at her and lightly let out a breathy chuckle, “Thank you…” 

“When did that happen?” she probed carefully. 

You kept your head down, starting to fiddle with the ring, “Um… two days ago…” you smiled softly and cleared your throat softly, looking at her. 

She nodded, “Joel told me that you guys had a lovely engagement party thrown by some friends and family last night, can you tell me about that? What was your peach, and what was your pit?” she smiled softly. 

You two had used this term often, a good way to express the positives but also negatives of situations without tying them to negative ideas and behaviors. It helped you express things when thinking about it in this way, she seemed to get more out of you when you thought of traumas or events this way. 

You nodded and chuckled, “Uh… peach was Joel’s toast. He uh…” you looked over at him and smiled warmly, “He has a way with words, knows how to make a girl feel like she’s god’s gift to this world.” you chuckled and he smiled, gently bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. 

“Just speak the truth, mi vida… you are god’s gift to my world.” he winked and smiled softly. 

You blushed and looked down shyly, leaning against him, looking back at your hands connected. 

“Sounds like a good peach. It’s a lovely experience and opportunity we get when we have someone love us that type of way isn’t it?” she said as she wrote something in her notebook. 

You nodded and inhaled, “Makes the pits not so horrible.” you admitted softly, focusing on anything but her, feeling under a microscope by how she was unwrapping you and the last 24 hours. 

She hummed in agreement, “I like that point of view.” she smiled and wrote something more down. 

“Now, on the other end, what was your pit?” she looked up at you. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, and focused on picking your thumb cuticle that was near raw, “I think you’re aware of what was the pit…” 

Diane took a soft breath in and cleared her throat, “I do… but I need you to tell me it in your own words… what made it a pit?” 

You stayed quiet, your foot gently tapping the ground, tears were starting to well up in your eyes, you didn’t want to relive what happened. You knew talking about it would take off the soggy Band-Aid you were using right now and that it would open up an already aching wound. 

“I know it’s painful and perhaps a little hard to talk about…” she leaned forward, “What went through your mind when it first happened? Start there…” 

You swallowed and looked at the corner of the coffee table in front of you, “When I was back in…” you jutted your jaw out and let out a breath, trying to keep yourself calm, “... on our last field assignment, we were out running a damn missile. Same… fuckin’ whistle when it comes down from the sky echoes the field.” rolled your shoulders back and tightened your jaw. 

“Same sounds that fireworks make when they fly up, right?” Diane softly asked.  

You nodded. 

“Tell me why you took cover by the shed, what made that spot feel safe?” 

You shrugged, looking up at her. 

“What made you run to that place rather than inside?” she pressed.  

Joel looked at Diane then you, gently squeezing your hand to give you a little boost of support. 

You looked at him for a moment then looked down at your hands, again tightening your jaw, speaking softly, “Joel was in there… and for a moment I thought I wasn’t safe… that I was back in an active zone… which meant he wouldn’t be safe with me going in there…” you let out a breath through your nose, “So I went as far as I could from his point of location…” you admitted. 

Joel looked at you as you admitted that and then looked at Diane who nodded at him, letting him know that’s what she suspected. 

You looked at Diane, “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.” 

Diane wrote something in her notebook then bit the inside of her cheek, “I’m curious… let's say if Joel is with you when these moments happen- do you think he experiences the trauma you do, or do you know he isn’t in harm's way? Are you able to separate that in your mind?” 

Your body went rigid and you shook your head, eyes going numb and cold as you looked across the room at her, “I… I don’t know but I don’t want to think about that… I…” you looked down at the floor, “...there’s a peace knowing he and Sarah never will know that fear…” 

Diane nodded, taking a moment before asking, “Do you think that if he had been around when those fireworks would have gone off you would have felt safer?” 

You shrugged, “I… I don’t know.” you had a few tears fall down your cheeks, “Sometimes I can’t separate where I am from where I’ve been…” you sighed softly. 

She wrote something else on the pages then swallowed softly, “When you first took cover, what did you see, feel, hear that made you think you were somewhere you weren’t?” 

You closed your eyes trying to remember, and your knee began bouncing anxiously, “I remember hearing a faint siren in the distance.” your eyes began scanning behind your eyelids, “... the air was thick and dusty, like something may have been hit nearby… I… I could smell something burning…" your lip trembled, "...someone burning…” you whispered, voice breaking, “I couldn’t move… I… I felt cemented into the ground, heavy and…” your breathing became uneven, small jagged breathes as you started remembering details, feeling right back there, making it all too much, “I couldn’t breathe… couldn’t think, couldn’t hear… I felt like…” you shook your head feeling overwhelmed and stood up abruptly, snapping your eyes open, “No… I… I need to get out...” you began looking for the door.  

Diane and Joel's eyes snapped up to you, Joel gently reached out to touch your leg while Diane tried to hold your gaze, “Woah… ok… it’s ok… you’re safe.” Diane said softly, holding up her hands to ease you from her seat, using her hand to tell Joel to stay seated which he did, “Hey, eyes on me… let’s count down from 10…” she said calmly but firmly.

Your hands shook next to your side, fidgeting open and closed, “I can’t… fuck… I can’t do this…” You began to hyperventilate, eyes scanning for an exit, then quickly moving around the table, tripping slightly on the leg, hitting your shin, hissing, “Ah... fuck…” You kept moving and quickly opened the office door, making for the exit.

Diane pushed a button on her table next to her chair which signaled the front door to lock automatically. Her office was by a busy road, and she learned very early on with dealing with patients with PTSD to have this safety tool.

She followed you out calmly and slowly, putting her notebook down on her chair before leaving the room, Joel standing with her and following, eyes filled with concern. 

You pushed the door to open it but weren’t able to open it, which just pissed you off and made you panic, "Open the door…” you jiggled the handle again, trying to open it, “Diane, open the damn door!” your breathing became faster and panicked. 

Diane looked at the receptionist and nodded, she turned up the volume on some white noise that was playing around the office to help ease you. 

“I’m not opening the door sweetheart, it’s not safe…” she said, easing her way closer to you. 

You stood facing the door, placing your head against its cold glass, breathing frantically, “F-fuck… I…” you rolled up your sleeve and started flicking your wrist with a hair tie you had again and again, shutting your eyes. You were told that shocking your senses would help snap out of moments like this in the army. 

Diane heard the band snap against your wrist and nodded, “Good. Senses needing to be shocked I see... good job… you’re doing great.” 

You continued to snap the band against your wrist, slowly falling to your knees, “I can’t go back…” you whispered over and over. 

Diane’s receptionist heard what she had said and reached into a mini fridge she had below the desk and handed Diane an ice pack, something to shock the senses that wasn’t so abrasive to you. 

She knelt slowly, listening to what you were saying, “You aren’t going back… you’re staying here… staying safe. Shhh…” She waited for a moment then cleared her throat “Let’s try holding onto this, yes?” she said reaching out with the cold pack. 

You turned around, your wrist red and raw from the continuous stimulus to it, and sat against the door, facing them, taking the cold pack and holding it against your forehead, after a moment letting out a breath of relief and shaky breathes being taken in and out. 

Joel came and knelt by Diane, careful not to move too quickly, gently reaching out to put his hand on your knee, you looked up at him and saw how worried he looked, how he wanted nothing to do more than help you. 

You looked up at Diane and sadly sighed, looking hopeless, defeated. 

She softly smiled, “Whenever you’re ready we’ll go back and talk about how to help these moments, yes?” she reassured. 

You nodded and closed your eyes, “I’m sorr-” 

Diane cleared her throat, “What is our one rule in here about that…” 

You opened your eyes and softly chuckled, “Right… no apologies are allowed if they are due because of a trauma response…” you mocked her voice teasingly. 

Joel looked back at Diane then quickly back at you, “Ok, so that rule is carrying over into our home…” he chuckled and gently rubbed your knee. 

You rolled your eyes jokingly and smiled softly, “How did I know you’d jump on that rule?” 

He leaned forward and kissed your head, “Because you’re notorious for apologizin’ when it’s not warranted sweet girl…” 

Diane nodded, “We've found that’s a good indicator a person has been in toxic relationships where you are constantly accessing people’s emotions and reactions.” she sighed softly, “You most likely have it from your parents but mostly Charlie.” she suggested. 

You nodded and scoffed, “Lovely… one more thing from him.” you rolled your eyes and moved to stand up, handing the ice pack back to the receptionist who smiled and handed you a new one, “Keep it… seems to help.” she smiled kindly. 

You nodded softly and slowly took in a breath after a few moments, “I’m ready to go back…” 

Joel and Diane rose together from the ground and nodded as you led the way back into the room. 

You sat back down where you were and held onto the ice pack, taking a few deep more steady breaths. Diane and Joel sat back down as well where they had been. 

Diane pulled her notebook back out and talked to you a little more about what happened, and why it happened. She advised that if things happen like that again, you use things like the ice trick or something else to shock your system into snapping out of that mindset. She advised Joel on things he can do to help in moments where things like this could happen but advised him to avoid triggers if possible as the more you’re exposed early, can lead to bad habits of coping outside of your own timing. 

She looked at the clock with 5 minutes left and looked at Joel, “Could you give us a few minutes to wrap up?” 

Joel nodded and looked at you, “I’ll just be out by the waterfall, mi vida…” he kissed your temple softly and then hand before letting you go and smiled and nodded at Diane as he walked out and softly shut the door behind him. 

The moment the door closed you looked at her and chuckled, “Am I in trouble or somethin’...?” you joked. 

She chuckled, “No, not in any trouble. I just like to check on some things that people tend to not speak honestly about in front of their partners…” she smiled softly, “I need you to answer me honestly when I ask what I’m going to ask, and either way I’ll take your word for it.” 

You bit your cheek, “Damn, sounds like you’re about to ask me if I’ve killed someone…” you joked, deflecting.

She looked at you and nodded, “Well... we’ve never talked about it, and it would help possibly explain some triggers you have." she tilted her head and then softly and calmly asked, "Did you have to take any life back in Afghanistan?” 

Your breath got caught in your throat and you held tightly onto the cold pack, looking down shamefully, fidgeting with the edge of the square you held, nodding after a few moments of silence “4 lives…” you clenched your jaw, holding back tears. 

She nodded and wrote it in her notes, then softly cleared her throat before clasping her hands together and softly, carefully asking, “Because of that, have you ever considered taking your own due to guilt?” 

You kept your head down and tears fell before you looked up at her, “Once.” you cleared your throat, “It was for less than a day back before I got to go home. It was after I got back from Delta 42 and 30…” you looked away for a moment, looking out the window, “Maria had gone home, Reggie was pretty much unavailable from the time I got to base to when I left. The days got long… I was alone for a big chunk of it because they wouldn’t let me work.” you set the ice pack down on the coffee table and swallowed, “All your left with is your thoughts, you know?” 

Diane sat forward, giving you her full attention, “Sometimes silence is the most terrifying thing we can be left with…” 

You nodded and sadly smiled then bit your cheek, “I uh… I got low. Couldn’t sleep, kept having echoes of what happened in Delta 42 taunt me every time I closed my fuckin’ eyes it felt like.” you looked down at your hands, “Joel was busy one day, couldn’t talk much and without that… without having some connection to the outside, I felt so fuckin’ alone… so consumed by the loss and fucked up shit I’d done in the last 72 hours…” you lightly chuckled, tears welling in your eyes, “For no more than maybe an hour or so, I saw my pistol on the desk as a way to ease the pain, stop the chaos from swarmin’ my head…” you fidgeted with your hands, “But then something just clicked and it was like a switch toggled on in my head. I felt lighter, could fuckin’ think and breathe… I can’t explain why or what did it- but never touched that pistol again until I turned it in the day I left.” you looked up at her, eyes etched with regret, "Please don't tell Joel..." you said sadly.

She listened and nodded along with you, making notes here and there with details you had told her, making notes on things you said then looked at you when you stopped talking, “What's said in here, stays in here." she reassured.

After a few moments of silence, she asked, "Have you had any itch to harm yourself since being home?” 

You shook your head and cleared your throat, “No… Joel… Joel’s been so…” you smiled softly at your hands, “He’s been so supportive and loving that I’ve not had much time to get that low, you know?” you looked up at her. 

She smiled softly and nodded, “Joel’s a good one, he’s solid, has a big heart, and he adores the ground you walk on which adds to it all…”

That made you blush and smile. You couldn't have asked for a better partner, a better fiancé.

She lightly chuckled, “Compared to what we’ve talked about with regards to Charlie… Joel’s been good for you.” 

You blushed deeper and nodded, “I’m really lucky to have him… consider myself blessed to have even met him the way we did, you know?” 

She nodded and smiled warmly, “Now you’re engaged… how does that make you feel?” 

You looked down at your hand, messing with your ring, “I honestly had no idea he’d ask this soon, but… it feels right, you know?” you looked up, “He looks at me like there’s somethin’ worth lookin’ at. Fills my life with color.” you shyly looked back down, “I’m just ramblin’ cheesy stuff now…” 

She chuckled, “Rambling about what makes you happy, nothin’ wrong with that...” she smiled. 

You nodded and cleared your throat, “He makes me happy. I… I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy in my life… never felt so… free…?” you chuckled. 

She nodded, “After what you’ve been through, that’s an understandable feeling.” she smiled and nodded a little then after another few moments of quiet she spoke softly, “I’d like to see you again in a few days, just for a short check-in, would that be ok?” 

You nodded and looked down, “Am I free to go?” you chuckled and then looked up. 

She nodded and stood, softly chuckling, “You call me if anything happens, even if it’s in the middle of the night, ok?” she opened her door.

You nodded and walked out of the room, “Thank you for your time today…” 

Joel stood hearing you come out and smiled at you. 

Diane nodded and looked at Joel then you, “Mind if I talk to Joel for a moment? Just to let him know how to best help you in the next few days?” 

You nodded and swallowed, “Yeah, no problem.” you came and sat in the chair next to where Joel was sitting, crossing your legs, grabbing a magazine, and looking down at it.

Joel looked at Diane and nodded, coming into the room with her, standing with his hands in his pockets as she closed the door behind her. She cleared her throat and offered for him to sit, “Oh… it’s a sitting conversation?” he asked nervously as he sat down on the couch. 

Diane chuckled softly, “Not necessarily, although what she’s going through is very serious… but nothing like… that.” she sat down and smiled softly. 

“So, what’s going on? How can I help her?” Joel asked, clasping his hands in his lap nervously but eager to listen. 

“She’s dealing with PTSD, so avoiding triggers will help, which I know can be done… you’re very aware of her environment and very protective of her.” she smiled warmly.

Joel felt empowered by that. To know his love and devotion to you traveled and was noticed by others.

“But what I’m concerned with is that if she gets to a low point she’ll… she’ll get low, really low.” she pursed her lips together to accentuate the meaning. 

He took in a breath and nodded, understanding, “What are warning signs to look out for?” 

“She’ll start to remove herself from normal social situations, she may start to say things that feel off... you’ll know what those are. I think the best thing is to keep her busy, check in daily, and maybe encourage her to write in a journal, she’d do well with that… but just, be there and let her feel her feelings but don’t let her be absorbed by them…” she said softly. 

He nodded and cleared his throat softly, “Sarah has a break comin’ up... Y/N mentioned that beach in Oregon earlier. While ya’ll were talkin’ I made some calls… I was thinkin’ of doing that in a week when Sarah's off school, do something to keep her busy but also somethin' to look forward to? What are your thoughts?” he sat a little closer to the edge of his seat. 

“I’m going to see her again in a few days, how about I let you know how she is then? She’s in no way to travel so soon based on today’s session but she might be ok in a few days after she settles mentally…” she said softly. 

He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek, “Anything I shouldn’t do?” 

She shrugged, “Ask her what her boundaries are. I think right now she just needs a lot of support, love, and patience. Some light distractions to keep her somewhat busy and not lame would be good. Things like movie nights, going to the grocery store, small car rides, things like that.” she suggested. 

“My brother, the one that set off the damn fireworks, should I keep him away? Would he be triggering?” he asked, sounding concerned. 

She shook her head, “Tommy and Maria… it would be good for her to be around them. She needs all the support she can get right now and Maria knows what she’s been through. Besides, what happened wasn’t anyone's fault, at least purposely, right?” she pressed. 

He nodded, “Right… it was all done with good intentions… just poorly executed.” he shrugged and chuckled lightly. 

Diane nodded, chuckling, “Tommy unfortunately has a record for poorly executing things like this doesn’t he?” 

Joel chuckled knowing what she was referring to; a work incident that Tommy was a little clumsy in after taking the three of them out to lunch and all of them coming back a little under the influence, “James had a hand in that too, you know?” he teased. 

She nodded and let out a louder chuckle, “I’ll never let him live that down.” 

They both chuckled and then Diane stood, “Anyways, she’s doing great, she’ll have a rough few days, but I think she’ll be ok, just keep me updated if anything gets bad enough where you can’t get her out of a… funk, you know?” she started walking towards the door. 

He stood and nodded, “I’ll keep you posted. Thanks, Diane.” 

She nodded and smiled before opening the door. You were reading a cooking magazine, deep in thought that you didn’t hear the door open. 

Joel smiled at you and walked over, sitting beside you, kissing your cheek then looking down at what you were reading, it was a recipe for a Tuscan Chicken pasta, “That looks good baby… wanna go to the store and get the stuff to make that tonight?” 

You nodded and looked at him, “But isn’t your mom cooking?” 

He smiled and looked at you, “If she is we can just cook it tomorrow but we can still go to the store? I’ll call her in the truck and ask…” he touched your cheek softly then tucked a strand of hair behind your ear delicately. 

You blushed and looked back down at the recipe then pulled out your phone and went to take a picture when Diane cleared her throat, “Take it home, just bring it back when you come back…” 

You looked at her and smiled, nodding then standing up, “Deal.” 

A week later 

You had gone in again to see Diane a few days ago and were doing much better. Elena stayed a couple of days after to keep you busy and monitor you while Joel had to go to work for a few important meetings regrettably. 

You’d never admit it, but Joel going back to work and not coddling you was what you needed. The less that you felt like a baby, the more independent you felt and the faster you adjusted and adapted. 

You still had a few hard moments over the past few days with being alone for too long after Elena had left. However, it pushed you to ask for help or reach out to friends like Rose or Maria.

You found yourself over at Rose’s offering to help with whatever she needed from day to day, not caring how small or silly it may be, you just sometimes needed to be around someone. 

Joel found when he’d come home most days he’d need to go get you from Rose’s as you would stay there until you knew someone was back home. 

After getting the 'ok' from Diane at your last session, Joel let you know that you guys were going on a road trip to the Oregon coast over the next two weeks and when you'd be leaving.

That in itself kept you busy as you packed for everyone, ran errands to prepare, and one morning instead of going on a run, cleaned the truck completely out.

---

His alarm went off at 5 am and you were already awake, buzzing with excitement. You leaned over and smiled as you kissed his cheek and brushed his hair back off his forehead, “Time to wake up, we gotta get goin’...” you giggled softly, kissing his shoulder. 

He chuckled sleepily and turned off his alarm before he wrapped his arms around you, humming, “5 more minutes darlin’...” he pulled you to lay on his chest. 

You giggled, “Joel you and I both know what ‘5 more minutes’ means and it’s not truly 5 minutes it’s another hour…” you tried getting out of his hold, smiling. 

The more you tried, the tighter he held you, keeping his eyes closed, trying to go back to sleep, “Shh, just let it happen… shh…” he teased as he held you tighter to him, starting to wrap his legs around you. 

“Damn it, Joel, you’re like a boa constrictor with your hold…” you couldn’t help but laugh and give up, “Fine, 5 more minutes…” you sighed and cuddled into him. 

He smiled and kissed your head, letting go of his hold a little, “Good girl, smart choice…” 

You blushed and laid your head on his chest, “How far are we drivin’ today?” you traced shapes on his chest. 

He hummed, partially back asleep, “We’re drivin’ to uh…” he drifted back to sleep, his arms starting to go limp around you as he was taken back deep into sleep. 

You smiled and chuckled and moved your head to watch the clock, letting 5 minutes go by before you sunk beneath the sheets and began kissing down his body, slotting yourself between his legs, dragging your lips across his bare cock making it hard quicker than you expected. 

Joel stirred and took a deep breath in, still somewhere between being awake and asleep. You kissed the inside of his thigh before spitting into your hand and began stroking him slowly, letting your saliva coat him while you pumped him in your palm. 

He groaned and turned his head in his sleep, feeling himself become aroused, smirking as he started to wake up.

You loved hearing those sounds come from him. It instantly made you wet against your panties. 

You were satisfied with your work and dropped your head to take the tip of your tongue from the bottom of his shaft up to his tip, dragging him out of his slumber, “Mmm still need 5 more minutes, amor?” you smirked as you kissed his tip making him grunt, slowly starting to wake up. 

“F-fuck…” he said as he felt your tongue swirl around his tip before sinking your mouth over him slowly, tongue flat against his shaft, softly moaning. 

You slowly bobbed your head up and down his shaft, taking more of him every time you went down.

He grunted and smirked, “Oh fuck, you’re takin’ me so good.” 

You moaned softly and pulled off with a small pop, licking your lips, “Mmm you taste so good baby…” You dragged your tongue up his shaft slowly, eliciting goosebumps up his body, “Can’t get enough of you…” you drew your lips back down and then started to suck on his balls softly. 

He gasped and gripped the sheets, cursing under his breath. He shut his eyes and swallowed a groan, making you kiss the soft spot of skin in his groin, “Mmm don’t you dare hold back on makin’ those sounds cowboy…” you stroked him in your palm.

He chuckled and let out a groan, “Fuck…” he hissed and let out a strangled moan, “Want you ‘round me…” he pleaded. 

You thought he meant your mouth so you went back to wrap your mouth around him, taking him deep and slow down your throat, gagging slightly at the size of him stretching your throat out. 

He groaned and his hips involuntarily bucked up, making you cough and moan as he went deep down your throat. 

You pulled off him and had saliva dripping out of your mouth, panting heavily, trying to catch your breath for a second, swallowing before you went to go back on him, starting to bob your head up and down again, this time a little faster. 

Joel grunted in absolute pleasure but shook his head, “Oh fuck... I need you… need you on top of me…” he groaned, jaw dropped and letting out a moan as you went down on him, moaning around his cock. 

You pulled off and smirked, kissing up his thigh, “You want me to ride you?” you asked breathlessly, slowly moving to kiss his stomach and up his chest. 

He smirked and panted softly, moving the sheets off to see you before leaning up on his elbows, looking down at you with those big brown eyes full of lust, “We’re gonna be sleepin’ in the same area as Sarah for the next 4 days… which means I don’t know the next time I’m gon’ feel your pretty pussy wrapped around my cock…” the smirked and looked up as you straddled him, your face hovering over his. 

You hummed and took off your panties, then took your shirt off, eyes bouncing back and forth between his eyes and lips, “I’m sure we can find ways… sneak around…” you started to grind him through your wet folds. 

He panted and grunted, laying back against the pillows, putting his hands on your hips, “Yeah? How would we do that?” he moved your hips at a slower rhythm than what you were, wanting this to last. 

You leaned down and started to kiss his neck sucking it softly, letting out a soft moan as his tip brushed against your clit, “We can always swing a quickie in the shower early in the mornin’ before she wakes…” you reached down between your bodies and lined him up at your entrance. 

“Think you can be quiet enough to do that? We tend to…” he grunted feeling you tease him at your entrance, “...fuck baby… you’re bein’ a tease…” he groaned feeling your lips suck against his pulse point. 

You grinned and kissed up his jaw then hovered your lips over his, “Finish that sentence handsome… we tend to what?” you looked down at his lips. 

He smirked and was lightly panting in anticipation, “We tend to enjoy each other in the shower, be a little louder than usual in there…” he bit his bottom lip, looking at yours, hungrily. 

You smirked, “I can be quiet if need be…” you sat onto his cock, slowly sinking him into your warmth, moaning softly against his lips, “I can be a good girl…”

Joel gripped onto you tightly, grunting as he felt you fully sit onto him before he sat you onto one of his elbows and cupped your jaw, “Yes you can be a good girl…” he said before pulling you down to kiss him deeply a few times before you pulled away by putting your hand on his chest and pushing him to lay down.

You started rocking your hips up and down on him, “Call me that again…” you panted as you softly moaned. 

He smirked up at you and bit his lip before lowly growling, “That’s a good girl, ridin’ my cock like that…” 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you smiled, nodding, leaning back to put your hand on his thigh then began riding him at a faster pace, up and down on him, moaning softly.  

He watched and groaned, seeing your tits bounce and the sight of him going in and out of you, “Fuck... you like that don’t you? Bein’ called a good girl…” he moved his hand up your body slowly before kneading your breast and playing with your nipple, keeping one hand on your waist. 

You gasped at the stimulation and nodded, “F-fuck that feels good…” you sat fully on him, his tip pressed up into your cervix, you swirled your hips, earning a grunt from him.

“Fuck baby, you like me that deep huh? Stretchin’ you out?” he cooed, sliding his other hand from your waist to between your bodies and using his thumb to draw circles into your clit. 

You gasped and bit your lip, “Y-Yes sir…” you cried out softly, suddenly feeling that coil start to wind up tight. 

He growled and he twitched inside of you, “Careful now…” he warned, “Callin’ me sir’s gonna get you in a different position where we’ll for sure wake up Sarah…” 

You opened your eyes and grinned down at him, continuing to circle your hips, “We aren’t road-trippin’ yet are we… sir?” you moaned softly feeling him twitch again inside you. 

His eyes went dark and he sat up quickly and smirked, before leaning forward and laying you on your back. 

He pulled out of you, “On your stomach… now…” he growled. 

You bit your lip and giggled then turned to lay on your stomach, “Yes sir…” 

He smirked and grabbed a pillow from behind him, and put his arm under your torso, pulling your hips up and sliding the pillow under you. Your hips are now slightly elevated, creating the perfect angle for him. 

He laid over you, squaring up behind you, lining up at your entrance, “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” he said lowly into your ear.

“Yes… yes please…” you begged. 

He kept himself at your entrance and used his free hand to brush your hair to one side of your body before sucking softly on your earlobe and plunging deep into your warmth.

You gasped and your hips rose up a little into him, gripping the sheets in front of you. 

He grunted and growled lowly into your ear, “Oh that’s it… fuck…”

He started rocking his hips into you, making you breathlessly moan as he whispered into your ear while letting out small grunts or groans,

“That pretty little pussy takes me so well…”

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you…” 

“I know you can be louder than that…” 

“Such a good girl takin’ my cock like this…” 

You’d come undone within the first few minutes of him rocking slowly and deeply against that sweet spot. Your legs would quiver under him, becoming weak and melting into the sheets, mumbling how good he feels deep in you. 

He’d eventually start to buck into you faster and harder, putting his hand on your waist and one planted next to you to hold himself up, panting hard and quick, “Fuck baby you feel so tight around my cock…” 

He’d look to where you both were connected and the way your ass would shake as he slammed into you and smirked “Fuck mi vida, tu culo se ve bien rebotando así mientras me follo tu apretado y perfecto coño…” (Your ass looks good bouncing like that while I fuck your tight, perfect pussy…)

You’d arch your ass up a little with what strength you’d have left and try to thrust back into him to give yourself some added stimulation which only made things more sensitive and launched you into euphoria, “F-fuck don’t stop baby…” You pleaded as you moaned into the mattress to muffle yourself. 

Joel gripped onto you and grunted, “F-fuck…” he snapped his hips into you and then groaned as he spilled deep into you, his forehead falling against your back, panting as he stayed still inside you. 

After a few moments of silence, both of you came down from your highs.

He smiled softly and leaned his head up, “You were askin’ where we gotta drive today…” he kissed your shoulder softly, “We’re drivin’ to Albuquerque…” he softly rubbed your hip, kissing your spine, “But we should leave as soon as possible… it’s an 11-hour drive…” he kissed down your spine softly. 

You hummed and smiled feeling his lips, “We should get goin’ then… we already stayed in bed longer than we should of Mr. 5 more minutes…” you teased and turned your head to look at him as he kissed down your body. 

He looked up at you with those big brown eyes of love and adoration and smiled softly, “Touche… soon to be Mrs. 5 more minutes…” he came up and met his lips with yours, kissing you gently. 

After another hour the car was packed, and you guys were on the road towards Albuquerque, New Mexico. 

The first couple hours were spent with Sarah sleeping against the window and you reading a book while Joel listened to the radio softly in the background. 

Around the 5th hour, you put your book down and discussed some activities and stops along the way you all could take with Sarah and Joel needing some type of stimulation as the drive was getting boring. 

Sarah insisted on stopping in Moab, Utah at Arches National Park as well as the Cliff Palace in Mesa Verde National Park in Colorado. You agreed as you thought you could get some really good photos with your new camera and could get some practice taking photos of Sarah and Joel. 

Joel said he had purchased some Boise football tickets as their football field is blue and he’s always wanted to go to one of their games, he also agreed about going to Moab and said that your motel would be less than 45 minutes away from the park, it would be a good thing to do on your way in from Colorado. 

Sarah eventually got bored after the list was made and started going off with ‘eye spy with my little eye’ however there wasn’t much to go off of so you and Joel guessed things pretty easily. 

She pulled out a portable DVD player after 5 rounds ended in less than 10 seconds, frustrated. 

You chuckled and looked at Joel as she put headphones on, “Is this the longest drive we have for this trip?” 

He nodded and took your hand, bringing it to your lips to kiss it gently, “Yeah, I think the longest after this will be 8 hours from Moab to Boise…” 

You nodded and looked out the window, “You wanna switch after our next stop? I don’t mind driving…” you smiled looking back at him. 

He smiled softly and shook his head, “No, I like drivin’... keeps me busy.”

You looked back to make sure Sarah couldn’t hear before you smirked and looked over at him, “I could think of a few things I could do to keep us busy while you drove..." you teased.

Joel chuckled, “As tempting as that might be, we aren’t as sneaky as you think…” he winked at you.

You giggled and smiled at him, “Well for the record, if you need to take a break, let me know.” you kissed his hand and then leaned against the window, watching the road as he drove. 

—

With a few pitstops and several hours later, you drove into a quaint little motel in Albuquerque, NM. 

By the time you got there, it was around 9 pm, all you were doing was sleeping the night there and then leaving tomorrow for your next stop. 

When you all got checked in and into your room, the three of you took turns taking showers as you all felt gross from the drive.

You ordered some pizza for dinner and then you all watched a movie before passing out asleep around 11 pm. 

Around 3 am you woke up sweating, feeling your heart pounding but don’t remember having a nightmare so you just assumed it was due to the room being warmer than you were used to. 

You slowly got out of bed and went to adjust the A/C but seemed to not be working so you bit the inside of your cheek and tried to open a window but nothing was working to cool you off.

You came over and checked on Joel and Sarah, both seemed fine, most likely used to the heat. You leaned down and kissed Sarah’s head, pushing her hair softly out of her face, and then came over to Joel and kissed his head, making him stir but fall right back asleep. 

You took the notepad on the nightstand and wrote, ‘Going to sit by the pool, A/C sucks’, then grabbed a room key, and your book, and left quietly to go sit by the pool. 

You had short shorts on and a t-shirt, so you just walked out barefoot to the pool so you could put your feet in by the edge to cool off. 

You sat there for a few minutes before another younger guy came in, lighting up a cigarette. 

You smiled softly and nodded to be kind and acknowledge him then went back to your book thinking he would just smoke and then leave. 

After a couple of minutes of lingering, he cleared his throat, “Too hot for you too?” 

You looked up, “Pardon?” as you missed part of what he said, head stuck in your book. 

He smiled and started coming closer to you, “I asked if it was too hot in your room for you as well…” 

You chuckled lightly, “Oh, sorry. Yeah, it is.” 

He came and sat a few feet from you, rolling up his pants to put his feet in as well, “Not from the heat?” 

You shook your head and chuckled, “I should be used to it, I live in Texas but was born and raised in Washington.” you shrugged and looked back to your book, hoping he’d get the hint. 

He nodded and took a drag of his cigarette, “Ah I see. What part of Washington?” he let it out, filling the air around you with the thick odor.

You kept your nose in your book, “Oak Harbor.” 

He chuckled and smiled, “Ah, so cold Washington.” 

You nodded and hummed. 

He took another drag and then flicked his cigarette, “Whatcha readin’?” he nodded towards your book. 

You took a breath, “Uh, just a self-help book… nothin’ exciting.” you smiled and then looked back at the pages. 

He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek, “I’m Danny…” he stuck his hand out. 

You looked up and said your name, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. 

He chuckled and cleared his throat, looking up at the sky, “Nice night, huh?” 

You bit your tongue to avoid saying something rude, “Yeah, it’s not too bad.” you tried to read the same passage you’ve had to go over now 3 times due to him trying to talk to you. 

He turned and looked at you after a few moments of silence, looking down at your bare thighs that were showing due to the shorts you were wearing, “So, uh, what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ here in Albuquerque?” 

You were about to say something when Joel came in through the gate and cleared his throat, hearing him hitting on you, “There ya are, mi vida…” making his southern drawl really evident. 

Danny looked at Joel and then you, confused by the name, “Mi vida?” 

You smiled immediately hearing his voice and blushed, “My life.” You looked at Joel and then Danny.

Joel walked over confidently, “It’s Spanish, somethin’ of a term of endearment that I call my fiancé…” he came and sat by you, sitting purposely between you and Danny, offering his hand to him, “Joel… and you are?” 

Danny swallowed and smiled somewhat nervously, “Danny…” he took Joel’s hand to shake. 

Joel clenched his jaw and nodded, gripping onto his hand quite firmly, attempting to send a message, “Pleasure to meet ya…”

He nodded, pulling his hand away, and then slowly rose to his feet, “Well I think I hear my buddy callin' for me..." it was silent, "But it was nice meeting you both." he nodded his head towards you both.

Joel nodded and chuckled lightly, “Nice to meet ya… Dan was it?” he smirked knowing he was making him uncomfortable. 

Danny chuckled and nodded frantically, “Sure… yeah. Well have a good night.” he gathered his shoes and quickly made it out walking towards his room.

You chuckled looking at your book, starting to finally read again now that you felt safe, “You’re horrible, Miller…” 

Joel chuckled and turned towards you, leaning down to kiss your temple then cheek, humming, “Just making sure he knew what’s mine and who I was, that’s all…” he smirked seeing you blush. 

You smiled, “Why are you out here? You and Sarah seemed fine when I left…” You kept reading the page you were on but kept some of your attention to Joel.

“I have a hard time sleepin’ without you next to me…” he softly said, looking over his shoulder to make sure Danny left and there wouldn’t be any trouble. 

You hummed and smiled moving the book for a moment to kiss his cheek.

After a moment, he stood and started to take off his shirt and pants, leaving him completely bare aside from his boxers before he walked into the water. 

“Your note said you were too hot…” he swam up to you and floated in front of you, “How about you join me? It’s nice and cool in here…” he kissed your knee softly. 

You looked down at him and smirked, “Are you skinny dippin', Joel Miller, or did you leave boxers on?” you couldn’t tell from the angle you were at. 

He smirked, “I can gladly remove ‘em if it gets you to skinny dip with me darlin’…” 

You chuckled put your book down beside you and smiled down at him, “10 minutes then we're out and dressed in case we get caught…” You bit your lip and blushed. 

He pushed himself up from the edge and captured his lips onto yours, gently kissing you, before pulling back and nodding his head, “Strip.” he commanded. 

You turned a darker shade of red and then got up to put your book on a lounge chair, then stripped and covered your breasts with one arm and groin area with your other hand as you ran to get into the water. 

Joel removed his boxers and set them on the side of the pool then dunked his head under the water completely before slicking his hair back and swimming over to you. 

You stepped into the water and smiled feeling the water wasn’t completely freezing, humming softly “Slightly heated I see…” you dove your head down and begin to swim deeper into the pool. 

Joel nodded and chuckled watching you, seeing where you were going. 

After a few seconds, you popped up in the deeper end, slicking your hair back, softly gasping for air. 

“Did I ever tell you I swam for sport when I was younger?” he smiled. 

You shook your head, “Wait like swimming laps?” 

He nodded and smiled, “Exactly. Was pretty good at it too…” he said before he did as you did and dove down to swim towards you. 

You inhaled to hold a breath then sunk into the water to watch him swim towards you, you waved at him. 

You let out a giggle seeing him wave back and blow a kiss at you underwater before coming to the surface and gasping for air softly then looked down at the water to see him swim up to you and then breach the water in front of you and grin, “Come ‘ere you…” he gently grabbed onto your waist and pulled you close to him. 

You wrapped your legs around his torso and arms around his neck as he held you as you both floated. 

You smiled and played with his hair to slick it back, softly humming then smirking as you looked at him as you played with some curls at the base of his neck, “I seem to remember that the thought of me being wrapped around you in the water made you do some pretty naughty things in a specific boat’s bathroom cowboy…” 

He lightly nibbled on your jawline, growling, “You are correct my love…” his hands wandered between your bodies and he pressed his thumb against your clit, slowly drawing circles, “You wanna help me make my fantasy become reality?” he moved to suck on your neck softly. 

You gasped and let out a moan as you felt his thumb stimulate you, you felt like you melted with how slowly he was building you up, “Why don’t you describe to me what that fantasy was cowboy?” 

He nipped your earlobe with his teeth lightly and groaned, “I wanted to feel every inch of you while you wrapped around me… kissing your sweet lips…”

You moved your head back a little and cupped his cheek, “These sweet lips?” you leaned in slowly and kissed him deeply and slowly, slowly tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you. 

His hands were everywhere, touching your waist, grabbing the meat of your ass and thighs. They’d carefully trial up your back and sides like he was afraid he might break you if he was too rough, continuing to kiss you passionately and deeply. 

You started to feel him rock your hips as you felt his cock begin to harden up against you. He mumbled against your lips, “Wanna mark you up baby, wanna claim you right here…” he said as he feverishly kissed your lips, slowly moving to you were pressed up against the side of the pool and him. 

He moved his lips to start marking up your neck, sucking small love bites into your skin. 

You moaned softly and ran your fingers through his hair, slicking it back as he did this, grinning, “Danny got under your skin I see…” 

He growled and pulled back a little, “Talkin’ to you when you have a ring on your finger…” he hovered against your lips, moving his hand down to line up his cock at your entrance, “Now that’s downright disrespectful talkin’ to a man’s wife like he was…” he panted and grunted feeling his tip sink into you. 

You gasped and moaned, “Mmm fuck... you mean someone’s fiancé?” you teased. 

He smirked, “When someone’s flirtin’ with you like that, you’re my wife…” he said as he sunk deeper into you and groaned looking into your eyes and watching your reaction. 

Your jaw dropped and you could feel the air start to leave your lungs as he filled you so tightly, nodding, saying with a hoarse whisper, “I’m your wife…” you put your forehead against him and moaned softly. 

“I didn’t get you a dainty small ring for a reason…” he whispered, groaning as he bottomed out, feeling himself completely fill you up, “I got this ring to make a statement…” he started to pump back and forth, slowly, “…to show every other man that you’re mine.” he gripped onto your waist with one hand and cupped his other hand on your cheek, lightly gliding his thumb over your bottom lip as he thrusts up into you, watching your lips part for him. 

You moaned and lightly gripped his hair and shoulder, grinning as you felt his thumb on your lips, leaning forward just a tad, taking his thumb in your warm mouth, sucking on it as you moaned. 

His eyes turned dark and he twitched inside you, making your eyes roll back into your head and pussy tighten around him. 

“Oh fuck baby… that’s hot…” he growled and started thrusting up into you a little faster, holding onto your hip, to keep you as tight down on him as possible, hitting your cervix over and over. 

You tightened your legs around him and moaned louder against his finger, panting quickly feeling yourself about to come undone. 

He moaned and grunted feeling himself close, “Can you cum for my baby? I need you to cum for me…” he pleaded pulling his thumb out of your mouth, “What do you need?” he groaned feeling you tighten around him. 

You panted as you moaned softly, then cupped his cheek, “Kiss me…” you whispered then pulled his lips to yours, kissing his lips deeply and passionately, moving your hips with his as he continued to thrust up into you deeply, needing more friction. 

He put his hands on your hips and panted heavily as his lips crashed over yours, feeling a deep pull in his navel. 

You pulled away from his lips and stalled your hips as you came undone, fluttering around him, tightening your legs around his hips, moaning and leaning your head back against the wall, feeling waves of pleasure crash over you. 

He clenched his jaw and within moments of you tightening around him spilled into you, grunting and panting as he kissed anywhere his lips could touch; neck, jaw, cheeks, he was everywhere.

You chuckled as your head leaned against the wall and panted softly, humming, “I should let more men flirt with me if that’s the side of you I’m gonna get…” you teased.

Joel softly nipped your jaw and moved his hands up your body, groaning softly as he pulled out of you, “Nuh-uh… you’re all mine.” he smirked as he kissed your throat softly, “All mine…” he leaned up and connected your lips with his, kissing you deeply, holding you up against him. 

You two returned to the room without being caught in the pool or Sarah waking up about 15 minutes later. 

In the morning Joel’s alarm went off around 7 am. You all got up with some groaning and moaning, still tired but got showered and ready then left within the hour, grabbing breakfast on the way. 

A little over 6 hours later you ended up in Mesa Verde National Park, driving to Cliff Palace. Sarah finally felt excited about something since driving up to this point was quite boring for her. 

You all went and saw the cliff palace, Sarah took a bunch of photos with her phone, you had your camera out and were taking photos of not only the landmark but taking candid photos of people around you as well as Sarah and Joel. 

Joel found you focused on taking a photo of an older couple holding hands as they watched the landscape together, it was a sweet sight to see, they both saw new things and enjoyed each other’s company. He snapped a photo of his phone of you in your element.

Once you were done outside, Sarah begged to go inside to see the museum they had in a building nearby to which you all three went in and finished within a half hour. 

Sarah got into the truck as you were leaving and leaned forward between the two seats, “How long is it to the next stop?” she asked nervously, not wanting to be in the car longer than she had already been in the last 24 hours. 

Joel looked at her from his mirror and chuckled, “Moab is only a 3-hour drive baby girl… I promise from here on it shouldn’t be so boring.” 

She smiled and nodded then pulled out the DVD player, putting on a movie for herself. 

You pulled out your camera and started looking through the photos you had taken, mentally marking which ones you may want to edit when you got to the hotel before you fell asleep against the window, feeling the sun warming you up as he drove for the last couple hours. 

—

Almost 2 hours later Joel leaned over and kissed your cheek, “Hey, we’re here…” You opened your eyes to see you were starting to drive through Arches National Park after he paid a park ranger for entrance.  

You sat up and smiled, eyes wide at its beauty, “Holy shit…” you rolled down the window and grabbed your camera, starting to snap photos of things as you drove by. 

Sarah rolled down the window and looked at Joel, “Can I stick my head out a little?” 

Joel looked back and saw there wasn’t any traffic behind them, “Yes but be careful…” he chuckled. 

She stuck her head out and you turned and took photos of her laughing, and smiling, the red rock in the background.

You giggled and then turned in your seat and took photos of Joel, “Give me a smile, cowboy…” you smiled at him.

Joel looked at you and smiled as you took a few shots before putting his eyes back onto the road, putting his hand on your thigh, feeling utterly happy in this moment with the two most important people in his life.

You looked ahead and saw you were heading into a tunnel, you giggled and looked at Joel, “Roll down your window baby…” he looked at you a little confused, and you nodded, smiling encouragingly. 

He rolled it down then you stuck your head out of the window as you entered the tunnel and yelled, “Woohoo!” letting it echo down the tunnel. 

Sarah realized what you did and yelled as well and giggled.

Joel let out a loud whistle and shouted as well before chuckling to himself at how ridiculous this all could have sounded to the people in front of you.

The echo was filled with sounds of you and your family’s utter pure joy.

To you, this was the best sound in the world.

Previous chapter - Next chapter

a/n: this will be a three-part chapter i think instead of two, there are certain elements I want in the next chapter/part of this trip but don’t want to over wash it so just warning ya’ll there may be an extra chapter

taglist:  @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000 @fancyyoouu @greendudenumber7

[theballadoftimburton]

i think the pjo fandom forgets that the characters have kinnies., and then proceed to slander the characters like nothing without thinking, oh, this isn’t represented in literature much, maybe i should keep my mouth shut and not say anything! don’t get me wrong, you can dislike a character, but to put them down for being “basic”, “boring,” or any of the such is just plain stupid. starting off with Will Solace, i hate it when people in this fandom call him bright, sunny, and overly happy. now let’s dig deeper, shall we? will solace represents people who smile and laugh to not let their depression or guilt swallow them whole. people who are like that erase him entirely.

i hate it when people slander Jason for being “boring”, “bland”, etc. because jason is for the people who desperately want to prove theirselves worthy if they wrong somebody, for example. the “do you trust me, son of jupiter” (whatever the hell it says, I don’t know) scene. jason wants to prove to nico that he can trust him, that he is no longer seen as a liability. he wants to make him feel welcome, and jason also is FILLED with empathy, very often show in the trials of apollo.

I hate it when people overlook leo valdez for being “dumb”, yes he seems immature, but he’s smarter than you’ll ever be. he’s there to represent the people with good qualities, intellect, smarts, high IQ, but act immature and cover their trauma with jokes or sarcasm.

I hate it when people say Percy acts out for no reason, or is dumb, or is too popular and kinned (etc., I don’t have many good examples.) because he’s the main character. he represents people who can’t catch a break, are too busy, and struggle with some sort of attention disorder so much that they can’t even prove themselves.

I hate it when people say we should shove nico’s trauma aside for others since he’s so talked about already. yes, we should make room for more conversations about characters! but we also shouldn’t water another’s down. he represents guilt-ridden people always seen as a liability, always problematic, quiet, and such.

there are more. like piper, I hate it when she’s seen as basic. I see piper slander all the time. I used to HATE her, but ive recently came to the conclusion that she could’ve just been represented better, not ruined entirely. she’s for those taken to a higher tankard and for those neglected by their own parent(s).

my fingers are restless, but there are a TON. like hazel, frank, bianca, zoë, thalia, etc., but my hands would eventually fall off and disintegrate if i went on since this bothers me so much.

i also made a similar post on my pinterest.

[mongoosingisme]

Title: Game Day

Rating: Explicit (MDNI)

Relationship: Shane/fem!Reader

Word Count: 3913

Summary: Gridball wasn't usually your thing, but maybe just for this once you'll make an exception.

Read on AO3 or below

There was a reason you left the city to go live in the middle of nowhere. Crowds? Noise? Confusion? Fucking people? Absolutely not your thing.

Yet there you were, in the middle of a crowd, dodging sloshed drinks and bits of popcorn, trying not to cover your ears as the mass of bodies around you roared. Something had happened out on the field, you surmised, but what that thing was you hadn’t the foggiest.

Here’s what you did know, though: you’d never seen Shane look so happy.

He was why you were there, of course. You wouldn’t hop on a bus to a gridball game on your own. But he’d been so excited when he asked you, and to be honest you were thrilled to be spending time with him, so all in all it was an easy yes.

“What just happened?” You had to yell for Shane to hear you over the crowd. 

“The Tunnelers just dominated that maul! They’ve got possession and-“ he broke off his explanation in a roar of delight, surging with the crowd as something happened out on the field. 

You assumed it was something good.

You didn’t know the first thing about gridball, but that was alright - you’d rather spectate Shane. You knew he played when he was younger, was quite good, even, and you wondered if this was how he looked on the field: eyes bright, body loose and moving, quick and alert and reactive and so, so different from the man he was just a month ago.

It was dizzying, sometimes, the change in him. Overwhelming to consider what could have been, if things had gone differently. If you hadn’t been there that day on the cliff. If you’d kept buying him beers. If Jas hadn’t burst into tears. You knew that version of Shane was still there, just under the surface. You don’t shake off years (a lifetime?) of depression and self-loathing after one good month. But Yoba, watching him do the work, watching him change, grow, embrace the terrifying uncertainty of life?

Well. It didn’t help the crush that’d been stewing since the moment he’d first slouched by you on the street.

No slouching now, though. You could see the athlete coming out: feet wide, knees bent, chin up, grinning as he bounced from foot to foot. He looked so happy.

The crowd roared again. “What? What?” you asked, flapping your hand against Shane’s side in excitement.

“They’re getting aggressive, watch, watch!” Shane didn’t seem to notice that he’d grabbed your hand, but you sure did. He was warm, his palm slightly rough, fingers thick and strong as he used your hand to gesture out to the field.

You were about to interlace your fingers with his when he dropped away. He was jumping now, jumping with the crowd, hands on either side of his mouth, yelling something in time with the people around him. A chant, growing in volume and losing intelligibility as one of the teams (you thought it was the one you were cheering for, but you weren’t entirely sure) made a run towards one end of the pitch.

Seconds later, you wished you’d brought ear protection.

The Tunnelers had scored. You didn’t know much, but that you could tell. The crowd was erupting, and you found yourself caught up in the energy, laughing and shouting along with them, jumping, bumping into Shane as he lept beside you. You stumbled, but he caught you, a hand under your elbow, the other around your back, and then suddenly his lips were on yours.

The kiss was brief, rough, full of jubilant energy and the scrape of stubble. It was over before you could register it, before you could respond, and Shane was backing away looking horrified.

“Sorry, sorry, shit, I’m sorry. I got carried away there.” His hands were up in front of him, he was cringing back into himself a bit, and that was absolutely not what you wanted. 

“I like when you get carried away,” you shouted, then you grabbed him by the collar of his jersey, yanked him over, and kissed him back.

He froze for a second, but then he was returning the kiss with all the intensity of the stadium around you. Hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in towards his mouth, open, tongue working in, hot and wet and with just a hint of desperation. You could taste the cola he’d been drinking, sweet, and feel the rumble of his groan as he drew you closer. You imagined, for a moment, that the crowd was responding to the two of you, their cheers and chants an unstoppable reaction to the outpouring of joy and desire and tension and relief cascading between your mouths.

It was a very good kiss.

“Fuck,” Shane said as you both gasped and broke apart. Your hand was still clenched around his collar. “Really? Are you… really?”

“Really,” you said. “How long does the game have left?”

“Dunno, maybe an hour?” Shane looked confused for a moment, but then he grinned. “Why, you wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” You were grinning too, standing close to him there in the crowd, bumping up against his chest, his hand spread on your back, keeping you there.

“Fuck,” he said again. “Okay. Okay. If you mean it, come with me.”

You absolutely meant it, so it was easy to let him grab your hand, pull you through the crowd, down into the stadium. Shane picked up his pace as the press of bodies thinned, and soon you both were almost running past the bathrooms, past the concession stands, past the merch shop, down the stairs, through a set of double doors. It was even quieter there, the roar of the crowd muted, and as his pace slowed you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Where are we?” you said.

Shane grinned back at you and raised his eyebrows. “Below the stadium. Come on.”

You imagined he’d spent time here, at one point. He seemed familiar with the turns of the hallway, knew which door to push through to reach an even quieter hall, and then there was an innocuous brown door that opened to a storage room. Racks of gridballs, training equipment that seemed ragged and well-used, a pile of mats, and Shane, backing you up against the wall, smiling in disbelief as his hands found your hips.

“You sure knew where to go,” you said, a little breathless. “Do you bring all your girls here?”

Shane snorted. “You know me, drowning in pussy.”

“Is that a request?” 

Shane groaned, pressed his hips up against yours. You felt something twitch there, start to grow. “Fuck,” he breathed. “I can’t… are you sure you want…”

You could sense a spiral starting. Better nip that in the bud. “Kiss me,” you said, and he did. Soft and breathy at first, not insisting. You figured he was giving you a chance to change your mind, to align yourself to the part of his brain that made him feel unworthy of anything good in his life. You were going to smother that voice in him, deprive it of oxygen with your mouth and your body and your words, and so you kissed him back hard, opened your mouth, let your tongue brush against his lips.

Bingo.

The wall was flush against your back now, Shane’s hands cupping either side of your head as his tongue delved. You whimpered as it stroked in, felt him shudder, loved the way you could feel him hardening against your pelvis. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulled him in as close as you could, felt him leaning against you, pressing you back, until you were caught between the warmth of his heavy body and the cold concrete behind you.

You let your hands wander as you kissed, pressed them up under the back of his shirt, felt the soft skin of his lower back. He groaned as you very, very gently scratched your nails up his spine. His hands were moving now too, gripping at your hips as he kissed you, then running up your sides, thumbs spread out. He shuddered as they pressed into the sides of your breasts, shifted, and then he was cupping them fully. You didn’t even try to hold back the mewl the contact caused, broke the kiss to arch your back into him, letting your posture communicate “yes,” communicate “more.”

And it worked because Shane was squeezing you harder now, exhilaratingly rough, pressing your breasts together and up, dropping his face to where they mounded above your neckline, kissing and sucking and groaning as he squeezed. His stubble scratched at your skin, one of his hands shifted to roll a nipple between two fingers. You were caught up in it, an onslaught of sensation that had you gasping out his name.

“You are so fucking hot,” Shane gasped, drawing back and looking at the press of his hands on your chest. “How the fuck is this happening?”

“I know what you mean.” And you did. You’d always been drawn to his physique, soft around the middle, thighs thick and sturdy, an inch or two taller than you but so, so much stronger. You had no doubt he could hold you up against the wall if he had a mind to, couldn’t help but clench at the thought of how heavy and good his body would feel on top of you.

“Liar,” Shane murmured, one hand dropping to rest on your stomach, the other bracing above your head.

“No I’m not. I can prove it.”

“Yeah?” His forehead was pressing against yours, his inhales short and noisy. The hand on your stomach pressed into you, just a little.

“Yeah,” you said, and grabbed his wrist. You locked your gaze with his as you pushed his hand down. His eyes were even darker than usual, contrasting with his flushed skin. He kept them open as you guided him beneath your waistband, below your underwear, but they fell closed as the tip of his finger brushed against your folds.

“Yoba, you’re so wet,” he breathed. You gasped as his finger slid down, parting you gently, the skimming touch sending sparks flying through your core. “For me? Really?”

“Yes for you, you goose.” you said. 

“You’re the goose,” he replied, and then he was kissing you again, rough and bruising as he pressed his finger inside of you.

You groaned into his mouth at the feeling, the stretch of his thick finger. His mouth was moving fast and hot on you, but his finger was slow, pushing in inch by inch, filling you up until you were moaning and shaking and grasping at his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” he whispered as you squeezed around him. “This cannot be real.”

“Shane,” you said, as his finger stayed maddeningly still inside of you. “This is real. And I really, really need you to move.”

He smiled. “Like this?” he said, slowly drawing his finger out of you. 

You whined at the loss. “More,” you said. “I need more.”

Shane groaned, pressed his mouth into the side of your neck. “I’ve got more for you.” His voice was a little lower, a little raspier than you were used to hearing. He pressed back in, two fingers this time, broad and solid and moving, thank Yoba, they were moving, pressing up and down, gentle but filling, working against your walls with growing speed as you clung to his neck.

The room was quiet, the roar of the stadium muted enough that you could hear each other breathe, gasp. You could even hear the wet sound of Shane’s fingers in you, growing louder the faster he moved. He pressed kisses to you as he worked, to your neck, your shoulder, your jaw, your ear. He held the lobe gently between his teeth, breath loud, augmenting the cacophony of sensations running through you, drawing you up. He was getting even faster now, rougher, pressing the pads of his fingers into you perfectly. The sound of the stadium swelled as you did - they must have scored, you thought dimly. Shane’s fingers changed their angle, just a little, just enough to push you over the edge. You gasped his name as you came, the sound ragged and broken in the quiet room, and Shane groaned as he worked you through it.

“Yoba, you’re good at that,” you managed as your soul settled back into your body.

“Nice to know I’m good for something,” Shane said into your neck. You were about to chastise him for the self-deprecation, but his fingers were moving, finding your clit. “Got another one for me?”

For him? Always. And you would have told him that, but he wasn’t waiting for an answer. His fingertips moved on you, three together, rubbing soft and steady on the side of your nub, and all you could get out was a squeak. He made a satisfied sound as his lips found your neck again.

He shifted as his fingers worked, pressed his pelvis into the side of your hips. You could feel his cock against you, stiff, hot, and he groaned as you reached down to grasp it. The proof of his arousal, that he wanted this every bit as much as you wanted him, tightened something in your core, made you cry out as a second climax ripped through you.

You sagged. Shane caught you, pulling your side against his chest. His cock was still in your hand. You squeezed it gently. He made a choked little sound.

You wondered if he’d make the same sound if you squeezed when he was inside of you.

“I have a condom in my bag,” you said.

He made the sound again. “You’re not saying…”

And he was kissing you again, hand on the side of your face, pushing you back up against the wall with one of those big thighs between your legs. You rubbed against it, could feel his cock even harder now. His hands were frenetic, moving over you fast and random, each squeeze and stroke and touch a conduit for the anxious energy that seemed to be bottling up inside of him. 

“I am absolutely saying,” you gasped as you pulled back. Or at least tried to. His mouth wouldn’t leave yours, pressing, demanding, tongue stroking as he shuddered, and you worried he might fall apart completely. “Unless you don’t want to,” you added into his mouth.

“Of course I fucking want to.” He was pulling on the collar of your shirt now, baring your shoulder, leaving kisses and just a hint of teeth behind. “I’ve wanted to from the moment I first saw you.”

Now that was an interesting fact, but one that would have to be mulled over later, because he was still talking. “There’s just no way you could possibly be asking me to fuck you next to a pile of moldy tackle bags.”

”Shane, you could fuck me on top of the moldy tackle bags and I would still have the time of my life. Now stop stalling and let me grab my bag.”

You enjoyed the broken way he said “Yoba,” extricated yourself from atop his thigh, and bent to rummage in your bag. You’d grabbed it as Shane had hauled you from the stands, dropped it unceremoniously as he’d pushed you against the wall, and now its contents were somewhat strewn over the floor.

It took you a second to scoop everything back in, to find the square of foil. You made a triumphant sound, held it up to show Shane.

He was watching you with a stricken expression.

Well shit.

“Uh-uh,” you said. “Stay with me.”

“I am with you,” he said, letting you put your arms around him, “and it makes no fucking sense.” 

“Does it need to?” You heard him sigh, press his face into your shoulder. You pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Maybe it doesn’t.” His voice was quiet. You heard the soft, distant roar of the crowd somewhere above you. “Every time you’re around I feel like I’m in a dream. I keep expecting to wake up.”

“Want me to pinch you?” 

He snorted. “Depends on where.” 

That felt like a good sign. You cupped a hand over his ass, then gave him a playful pinch. ”Awake now?”

“I guess.” His voice was low. He kept his face to your shoulder. “You sure you want this?”

You knew what he meant. Did you want him, and all the baggage that came with it? He was giving you an out, still seemed to think you were looking for an excuse to leave gracefully. 

The only way you were going to leave him was kicking and screaming.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You hugged him around the middle, staggered just a little as he leaned into you. 

“You have terrible taste,” he said.

“Yet you continue to put up with me.” 

You could feel him smile. “It’s okay, I’m used to slumming it.” He dropped a kiss onto your shoulder, then turned the both of you so your back was against the wall again. His hands stayed on your waist as he kissed you, gentler this time, slow and soft. You let him set the pace, let him work himself back up, growing bolder as you responded with gasps and moans and nails digging though his shirt.

He seemed a little lost in it, caught up in the kiss, the contact, and you would have been just peachy with letting it go on as long as he wanted it to, but you had to be pragmatic. Shane was in fact not dreaming. The two of you were in a storage room in a very well-attended stadium, and if you wanted to achieve your goals here without being discovered you’d need to get moving.

“Shane,” you gasped, breaking away, “if we want to fulfil my lifelong dream of getting fucked next to a pile of moldy tackle bags, we should probably get a move-on.”

His response was one last slow, deep, shuddering kiss, then his hands were on the waistband of your leggings, pulling down, and you were pulling at his belt, his zipper, and you’d kicked off a shoe somewhere, one leg bare, one with a pile of fabric around the ankle, and then Shane’s cock was out. You made a note to take some time with it later, get to know it with your hands and your mouth, but for now Shane was too quick with getting the condom on to give you much of an impression outside of “deliciously thick.”

He still didn’t say anything as he hitched one of your legs up over his hip, braced it with a thigh, let his fingers dig into the side of your ass. You pressed yourself up on the ball of your other foot, and it was just the right height to rub yourself over his cock. 

That, finally, got him to say something, a long, gasping “fuck.” He hauled you up closer, and you put your arms around his neck, letting him support you as you ground against him. 

“Fuck,” he said again as you moved. He felt incredible against you, the base of his cock providing the perfect spot to rub your clit. You wondered if with a little more time you could make yourself come like this, all slick and heat and his body beneath you and the sounds he was making as you moved.

But no, time was short and you had a goal now. You slowed, grasped his shaft (Yoba, he was thick), and circled his tip around your entrance. You both gasped at that, Shane’s hips stuttering. He pressed his face back against your shoulder.

“All good?” you asked him. 

“It’s been a minute since I’ve done this, so don’t expect much of a performance. Keep your expectations low.” He was using that voice, the one he used to use when he’d ask you if you had work to do. The one that made you think of a porcupine bristling, sharp and spiked to protect the softness underneath.

“Says the man who already made me come twice,” you said, pleased with how coherent you sounded despite how distractingly incredible his cock was feeling all pressed up against your core. “You don’t have a damn thing to worry about.” 

“You’re… fuck, okay. Okay. Yoba. Okay.” He was shifting, and you were too, aligning him with your entrance, sighing as his hips pressed forward, as he slid inside you, slow and steady, just like his fingers but so, so much thicker, so much more overwhelming, stretching you and filling you in a way that had you groaning, clutching at his back, whispering his name.

“Fuck, baby,” he said in that low, wrecked voice. “You feel so fucking perfect.” You didn’t know if it was the tone, the praise, or the endearment, but you were starting to lose it a little. It was your turn to press your face into his shoulder, to whimper, to let your body shudder and squeeze around the delectable fullness in your core. “You good?” he asked. “Need me to stop?”

“I’m good,” you whispered. “Just needed a second. Go ahead and move.”

And move he did, pressing you back against the wall, bracing with his thigh, hips thrusting. He could only move an inch or two in this position, but that was all you needed. All you could take, most likely, with how full you felt and how fast he was moving, pistoning into you now, hands grasping hard at your ass, grunting soft near your ear with each thrust. 

The concrete wall was cold against your back, a little rough where your shirt had ridden up a bit, but the sensation was inconsequential compared to the feeling of Shane in you. Finally was the word that came to mind. Finally there, finally with you, finally touching you, finally letting his guard down, finally letting you reach him, finally inside of you, closer than close, quills plucked, sharp edges smoothed, armor gone, just pliant and moving and perfect and real. Just the person you knew he was, just the person you could see in him from the moment you’d first passed on the street. Just Shane. 

“You’re doing so good,” you whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

Shane groaned, his thrusts losing rhythm. You wanted to keep talking, shower him with praise, keep feeding the part of his mind that let him enjoy the world as he should, but his mouth was over yours, the kiss wild and unrefined, and he was moaning into you, moaning as he moved, as he tensed up, hips making little jerks, until he froze, climaxing, making that choked sound again. He fell forward, plastering you to the wall, limbs heavy and relaxed. He still held your leg over his thigh.

“So is that how gridball games usually go?” you asked after a moment.

Shane let out a long, deep breath. And then he laughed. “Only the good ones.”  

You couldn’t fix him. You knew that. But as you rode home on the bus later that evening, Shane’s head resting on your shoulder, his fingers interlaced with yours, you wondered if that was besides the point. Whatever the days ahead brought, you knew who he could be.  

For now, that was more than enough.

[autumnmobile12]

Expanding on the Endeavor: Physical Strength vs Emotional Strength post I made because I finally have the wording for it, this is my more in-depth take on where Endeavor ended up in the finale.

In a twisted way, I’m glad he survived, and the reason for that is I’m personally a fan of the ‘live in despair’ trope.

Endeavor is a character whose identity lies heavily in his own physical capabilities.  Physically, he’s a very strong and imposing character, and all his life, he has used that strength both in the positive manner of fighting villains and protecting the public and in a negative manner to abuse and intimidate his family. His ties to his physical strength is a core aspect of his personality.

But another factor that might be in play is I actually think Endeavor suffers from depression. If that's the case, he has been dealing with it for years. And I don't say that as an excuse for everything he's done because accountability and all, but it would explain a lot.  Let’s face it, therapy and medication might’ve done this guy and his family a world of good.

Depression in men often presents itself as anger compared to women who experience it more commonly as stress/sadness. This is due to a combined factor of social expectations for men and a possible difference in brain chemistry between men and women. Symptoms of depression in men can include:

Aggression

Irritability

Controlling/abusive behavior

Overworking to avoid addressing negative feelings and overworking to the exclusion of any other hobbies/interests. (Does he even have a life outside of work?)

Isolation (He doesn’t really go out of his way to interact with co-workers, peers, or anyone in his family aside from Shouto.)

And if you really think about it, Endeavor's career-long status of second place in his profession did probably have ties to his own self-worth, so add in the 20+ years of feeling like he was never good enough that he projected onto Touya.

There's also the fact his oldest son died in a horrible accident that could have been prevented and he knows it. Touya’s death probably exacerbated his depression because I don’t think Endeavor is the sort of person to take a month off to mourn. I think he went right back to work to distract himself from it and never addressed his son’s death and he certainly never confronted his own part in it. That should have been a personal turning point for him to self-examine and re-evaluate some life choices, but see the post in the link above for the analysis on why he didn't. In short, no wonder Dabi chose the war path.

...

On top of all that, there's the aforementioned societal pressure that men are supposed to ‘tough out it’ because being sad/vulnerable is viewed as weakness, and Japan in particular does have a societal stigma against mental illness, so those two factors alone would mean Endeavor probably never considered he had depression or sought treatment for it even if he did. And so he used the intense physical activity of his job to overwork himself and further avoided actually confronting the emotional turmoil going on within himself and his own household.

But the finale:

Endeavor is crippled, he is missing an arm, he can’t walk by himself, he can’t dress himself, his former outlet of overworking himself is an impossibility, and he is now dependent on Rei’s care for the rest of his life, which is a subversion of her being forced to remain financially dependent on him for the majority of their marriage.  Everything that made him the strong, independent person that he was before Final War has been stripped away.  One of his children is dead because of him, one has all but disowned him as a parent, and the remaining two have limited contact with him.

This is in no way close to the dignified retirement he probably had in mind.

Endeavor didn’t die and ‘rest in peace.’

And now he gets to sit in his wheelchair and dwell on the choices that put him there for the rest of his life and, reminder, he's not an old man. He's middle aged, so he's got a few more decades of this to look forward to. He spent his whole life chasing after a goal that was egotistical, he ruined his own life and the lives of his family, he achieved his goal in the most hollow victory imaginable, and it all came crashing down.

It might not be legal justice for the abuse and mistreatment he put his family through, but I do see it as karmic justice. In all, it's a sad and pathetic end to a sad and pathetic life. The guy lives, but he lives in despair.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 18: VACILLATOR

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

You wonder briefly if this is what it’s like to be an imploding star. A supernova collapsing in on itself from the gravity of heaven incarnate.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: mentions of depression, angst, sex, oral sex, fingering

ੈ✩ wc: 6k

ੈ✩ a/n: jesus christ

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

November, 2010

It’s been almost two months since Suguru defected. You and Satoru aren’t exactly coping well. 

You find yourself following in Suguru’s footsteps regarding spouts of depression, which weren’t uncommon to you, but Satoru finds that you snap at him more when he tries to get you out of bed. It’s a Herculean effort to do anything, especially when the winter was coming so soon and your behavior towards Satoru was becoming more hostile.

In the back of your mind, you still blamed him, in between blaming yourself for not intervening sooner. Blaming yourself because if you had been different, maybe Suguru would’ve let you in. Wallowing in pity because you could never reach him the way you wanted to, there must be something wrong with you.

You find comfort with Shoko. Since Suguru’s absence, it feels wrong to enjoy yourselves, just the three of you. Satoru had been on a mission during Shoko’s birthday and she didn’t think about having a party anyway. 

So you take her out to dinner and share a bottle of expensive and highly alcoholic sake along with a new pack of Seven Stars. You’d been smoking more too, thanks to Shoko. Satoru hates it. He won’t admit that something is exciting about tasting the nicotine on your tongue. 

(It reminds him of kissing Suguru. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.)

You’re on the rooftop of one of Jujutsu Tech’s buildings. It’s half past midnight when you suddenly look up at the sky full of stars and gaze at Shoko in slurred elation. You grab her arm and smile.

“Ieiri-san! Happy birthday!”

She laughs. “I told you you don’t need to call me that. It’s been years.”

“I know. But I know you find it funny.”

Shoko shakes her head, but her smile remains. "You're fucking wasted."

You lean against her, feeling the world spin slightly. "Maybe. But at least I'm not as bad as Satoru."

The mention of his name brings a momentary silence between you. Shoko takes a long drag of her cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the darkness.

"How are things with him?" she asks, her voice low and careful.

You shrug, reaching for the sake bottle. "Same as always. He tries too hard. I push him away. Rinse and repeat."

Shoko gently takes the bottle from your grasp before you can pour another glass. "Maybe you should ease up on him a bit. He's hurting too, you know."

You inhale sharply. “Yeah. I know. I just — feel suffocated by him lately. It’s weird.”

“Because he loves you too much?”

You blink at her. Love. You think of the times Satoru has used that word. The warmth and tenderness of it in his mouth. The image of him saying it feels so foreign. You can only think of his face when he flashes you a heated gaze, that word falling from his tongue against yours while he’s deep inside you.

You shiver, grimacing. “Sure. I guess. Things are still tense after… you know.”

“I miss Suguru, too,” she sighs. You wince inwardly at the sound of his name.

Shoko looks at you knowingly and holds you close, her fingers gently combing through your hair. "It's okay," she murmurs. "It's okay to not be okay."

Something about how she reassures you forces something fragile inside you to break, just the slightest bit. You look up at the stars again, their cold light seeming to mock your pain. 

"Do you think he's looking at the same sky right now?" you whisper.

Shoko doesn't answer immediately. When she does, her voice is thick with emotion. "I don't know. I hope so."

You nod, feeling a hollow ache in your chest. "Me too."

As you sit there, leaning against each other under the vast expanse of the night sky, you can't help but wonder if things will ever be the same again. If the wounds left by Suguru's betrayal will ever truly heal. In the depths of your alcohol-hazed mind, a small, traitorous voice whispers that selfishly, maybe you don't want them to.

It’s annoying to talk about it. It’s even more annoying to talk about yourself in general, like pulling teeth to say anything really honest around anyone. Especially around Satoru.

It seems that he’s desperate to pry it out of you. All that sadness. He does it the way he always does, the only way he knows how. 

When he returns from missions, he’s desperate for you but teases you enough to make you beg for it. It’s a fucked up way to keep you close, reigning you by the fraying thread binding you together.

It’s fine – a mantra the two of you separately repeat even when it’s not. Satoru is glad enough that you still let him take you apart despite being so distant in every other interaction. You’re quiet during meals, you hole yourself up and throw yourself into your work.

But in the oasis of your bed, he still has you. It’s enough for him, he tries to convince himself. He is so different from Suguru, a direct contrast to him, and it helps you distract yourself. Ironic, considering Satoru was never a distraction for you. He was always at the forefront of everything, the blinding sun in your orbit. Too bright to look away from.

His touch was your constant for the past two years and still is. It’s why you let yourself expect him in the darkness of your room, his oversized sweater drowning you while you wear nothing else. 

Satoru is brutish when he touches you, just the way you like it. Sometimes it makes him feel guilty but the look you give him while his hand is wrapped around your throat is too compelling. 

For days after Suguru left, he had felt like a monster for complying with your requests to be rough. He’d leave bruises that would stay for days, had even made you bleed because you asked for it. 

What surprised him was how willing you would be. He would feel awful, like he had fucked you up in some irrevocable way, but you would calm him with small hands to his cheeks and a kiss on his forehead. You liked the intensity. You needed to feel. 

You would push him away in your day-to-day and then tease him in the night, provoke him like he was a stray dog. You needed him angry because you were also angry – at him, at yourself, at the broken world that made Suguru do what he did. 

It was odd, the way you and Satoru would lash out at each other. You were always on opposite sides of the same spectrum, always rotating your roles. Distant to suffocating, depending on the day. It would end in you goading him until he bullied his cock inside you, your cunt wet from the frustration of it all. 

But even when he would be so harsh in his movements, his cock an impossible force into the tightness of your pussy, he could never fully reach you. Blind with lust, he’d fuck you, crazed by the need to tear you apart as much as you were tearing him apart. 

And still, you were disembodied while being entangled with him. No matter how hard he fucked you. He could feel you slipping away so easily, like water through the gaps between his fingers. 

Even when he was drunk off of you (he always was), stupidly confessing his love through moans and hurried exclamations of affection, the ebbing of your shared intimacy would shift the two of you away from each other. 

He wanted to cradle you but couldn’t break through your shell. 

Instead, he would make you cry out, ride the waves of blindingly hot pleasure, the current of it taking you farther and farther from him until you were floating on the nonsense of your preoccupations.

__

May, 2012

Satoru has to remind himself that he can’t get clingy with you. Not like he’d been before, at least. He also has to remind himself that he can’t keep his distance and pretend you don’t exist. You are a constant in his life.

Unfortunately, you’re maintaining that distance for him.

He’s only going a little insane. He’s gone without sex for longer, but it bothers him more than he can admit when your presence is everywhere and nowhere all at once. It’s been weeks since he’s been able to touch you and it seems that the universe is trying to punish him further.

You’re naturally a workaholic — your final year at Jujutsu Tech has you on more hands-on missions and mentoring younger students. You’re the yin to Shoko’s yang in that way — where she works in her mortuary, you’re studying the fundamentals of cell regeneration and healing in your greenhouse.

Satoru isn’t bitter as you spend more time with her than you do with him, lately. He isn’t, he swears. But when you do end up in his orbit, it’s to spend time with Megumi and Tsumiki more than has anything to do with wanting quality time with him.

You’ve been picking them up from school on days when Satoru is scheduled with missions or training on campus.

Today, he’s delighted to see them at the school, but his mood sours slightly when he sees the three of you interacting with Nanami. Satoru has been trying to calm his possessive streak, but it flares up when you’re around other men. It’s also quite easy to dogpile on his junior anyway.

“Twigs!” Satoru bellows, his tone overly friendly as he comes over to ruffle the kids’ hair. He puts an arm around your waist.

“Uh, hey, Satoru,” you nod, noticing his possessiveness. “I thought you were training?”

“Just taking a break. Nanami should be training, too, hmmmm?” He grins pointedly at Nanami, who in return narrows his eyes.

“I was actually just at the library,” Nanami says. “Doing research on the Heian era.”

“Oh, I did a paper on that last year,” you chime in. “If you’d like, I can—”

“You kids eat yet?” Satoru interrupts, looking down at Megumi and Tsumiki. You frown, noticing his efforts at dismissing Nanami completely.

Megumi and Tsumiki simultaneously say yes, which leads to a frenzied overlap of them bickering about what to get for dinner. You sigh, step off to the side and offer Nanami an apologetic smile.

“I can dig through my stuff and probably find that paper for you.”

“No need,” Nanami smiles. “But thank you.”

“Let’s have a big hot pot dinner!” Satoru claps his hands together. His boisterous behavior is already starting to give you a headache. “Then everyone can get what they want, yeah?”

Without so much as a proper goodbye, Satoru waves to Nanami and ushers the rest of you towards his car. You hated being in it, given that it was far too flashy. Satoru told you he’d gotten it “secondhand” the month before. The vanity plate “6EYEZ” made you beg to differ.

“You’re in a rush for dinner,” you mutter, sliding into the passenger seat. “It’s barely 6 pm.”

“Perfect for dinner time,” Satoru chirps.

You lick your teeth, eyeing him with half annoyance, half amusement. “You were a bit rude to Nanami, don’t you think?”

“Hm?” His voice is innocently nonchalant. “Was I?”

You narrow your eyes, not buying his act for a second. "Come on, Satoru. You practically steamrolled over our conversation."

He shrugs, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I was just excited about dinner. Can't a guy be enthusiastic about hot pot?"

"Uh-huh," you say, unconvinced. "And it had nothing to do with the fact that I was talking to Nanami?"

In the backseat, Megumi and Tsumiki exchange a knowing look. They've witnessed enough of these exchanges to sense the underlying tension.

“Why would I care?”

“I don’t know. But you should still be nicer to him. He’s your kohai.”

“And? He can hold his own. He doesn’t need Y/N-senpai to hold his hand through the history of the Heian period,” he mutters.

You scoff.

His jaw ticks. He turns up the radio just a bit so he can speak low enough for you to hear. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

You laugh bitterly. He pouts, his eyes flickering under his sunglasses to peer between you and the road.

You’d gathered that he was bothered about Nanami’s presence, but it was nice for him to admit it. You should be annoyed but you’re oddly proud of Satoru for being able to confess when he’s jealous. Unfortunately, you also find it a bit satisfying.

“And how does he look at me?” you murmur.

His grip tightens on the steering wheel. "Like he's trying to figure you out. Or something.”

You can't help but smirk. "Is that so bad? Maybe I like being a mystery."

"You're not a mystery to me," he says, his voice holding an edge.

"No?" you challenge, enjoying the way his composure starts to crack. "You think you have me all figured out, then?"

He narrows his eyes at you. "I know you better than anyone, Twigs. Always have, always will."

__

“Digimon.”

“Pokemon.”

“Digimon.”

“Pokemon!”

“Digi– ow!”

Satoru pouts at you when you hit him with the book in your hand. “What the hell was that for?”

“Stop fighting.” You give a warning look to Satoru while Megumi tries to hide a self-satisfied smirk. 

Even at his big age, Satoru still acted like a child. Exhibit A: Defending his obsession with Digimon and debating with a nine-year-old. Despite this, Satoru appeases Megumi by putting on Pokemon instead. 

“Dessert, anyone?” you offer.

“Me!” Tsumiki shoots her hand up and flashes a toothy grin. Megumi hums in agreement. 

“I am craving something sweet,” Satoru murmurs, smirking at you in a way that gets him a flick to the head in response. 

“Sheesh! You’re violent today –”

“I’ll make a pot of yuzu tea,” you interrupt, scurrying to the kitchen. Satoru undoubtedly follows you. You feel a hand on your waist.

“Trying to run away from me so fast?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You mean insatiable?”

“Nope. I do mean incorrigible. Don’t even get me started on your behavior today.”

“Oooh,” Satoru’s breath tickles the skin underneath your ear, “Was I a bad boy? You gonna punish me?”

You frown, though your face is turned away from him so you can hide the corners of your mouth quirking up. You didn’t have it in you to be truly pissed off at him. Instead, you turn on the kettle and reach for the new jar of yuzu marmalade from the top shelf of the cupboard.

Satoru, the giant that he is, covers your hand with his and intertwines your fingers. His other hand reaches past you to grab the jar and hands it to you.

“Thanks,” you mutter. 

You busy yourself with preparing the tea, trying to ignore the warmth of Satoru's body behind you. His presence is overwhelming, filling the small kitchen with an electric tension. You can feel his eyes on you as you measure the marmalade and hot water.

"You know," Satoru murmurs, his voice low and intimate, "we haven't had much time alone lately."

You swallow hard, focusing on stirring the tea. "We've both been busy."

"Too busy for me?"

You turn to face him, finding yourself trapped between his body and the counter. His blue eyes are intense, searching your face for something. You're not sure what.

You’re about to reply but he cuts you off.

"I miss you," he says simply. 

You want to reach out and touch him. It wouldn’t take much. Only a few inches. You can feel his breath on you anyway. He’s so close that you can’t tell if the vulnerable expression on his face is true yearning or the trick of the light. Something holds you back from leaning in further.

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” you say, smiling weakly.

He rolls his eyes and smirks teasingly. “You know what I mean.”

“I’ve had a lot on my plate.”

“I know. You’re overworking yourself, you know. I haven’t been able to touch you in weeks.” His tone is almost serious.

“You’re touching me now, aren’t you?” you mumble, looking down to see where his fingers meet your hip.

“Ugh. Yeah, but you’ve been so timid lately. It’s like you’re avoiding me,” he pouts.

“I’m not,” you frown.

“Are too.”

You clear your throat, looking away. Trying to hide the flush in your cheeks.

“The kids are waiting for their tea," you say lamely.

Satoru nods, running a hand through his hair. "Right. We should..."

"Yeah."

You pour the tea. As you arrange the cups on a tray, you feel his hand brush against yours.

"I got it," he murmurs.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. You let him carry the tray to the living room as you hang back and rummage through the drawers for the box of assorted box of mochi you’d bought earlier.

You exhale when Satoru exits the kitchen and gives you a reprieve. The tension between you is starting to make your skin crawl. It’s not entirely unwelcome — you know as much as he does that you haven’t been intimate in a little while. He must know it’s on purpose that you’ve been evading time spent alone with him.

It started as an act of spite from the last time he’d fucked you. You were half-asleep and stained with the scent of Suguru’s cursed energy. It wasn’t a violent affair — it hadn’t been so rough since you and Satoru were teenagers.

But there was a semblance of the emotionally volatile Satoru that could easily ignore you at the drop of a pin or suffocate you with tenderness. It was always whiplash with him.

Overwhelmed, you’d withdrawn into yourself in the past month, taking on more missions without him or choosing to spend your free time honing your craft in the greenhouse. When you had breaks or days off, you would spend time with the kids, ignoring Satoru’s playful but slightly targeted jabs about you enjoying the Fushiguros’ company more than his.

You did miss him. It just felt better to get your shit together, especially with the confusing feelings that your last encounter with Suguru had left you. You were perturbed with nostalgia, dreaming of his hands and his mouth all over you. Your brain would simulate his touch during your dreams and you would be transported to years prior, when you were nineteen and in love with two boys.

In love with two boys. The thought even now makes you laugh bitterly to yourself. You knew how they felt about you, how fervent and obsessive they could be. 

You were also so often lost in your head that you couldn’t differentiate your romanticism from the intensity of your little love triangle. Or love… thing. Whatever it was, it was convoluted and paralyzing. Messy.

You thought you’d recovered, given your time in Kyoto. Regardless, Satoru and Suguru had left permanent marks on your heart. You weren’t sure how you’d cope with the brevity of it all, the ghost of passion taunting you even when your daily life was so oddly normal and domestic.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Tsumiki calls for you from the living room: “I call dibs on the strawberry matcha!”

Shit. Right. You were in the middle of arranging the daifuku on a plate. You quickly finish what you’re doing and walk towards the living room.

The kids greet you with eager smiles, oblivious to the tension in your shoulders and the way Satoru stares at you.

As you settle back onto the couch, Satoru sits closer than before. His thigh presses against yours, a constant reminder of his presence. You try to focus on the anime playing on the screen, but your mind keeps drifting to the man beside you and the remnants of an unfinished conversation.

The evening wears on, and soon it's time for the kids to go to bed. As you help Tsumiki brush her teeth, you catch sight of Satoru in the hallway mirror. He's leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a soft expression.

You’re on the way to the door when you hear his voice.

“You should stay over.”

You turn to look at him sheepishly, your fingers tightening over the strap of your bag.

“Ah, I have some studying to do —”

“You know it’s a Friday night, right?” Satoru narrows his eyes. “And you haven’t stayed over in a minute. And the kids reaaaally miss your pancakes…”

You huff at the insinuation that this is enough reason to stay. You weren’t his wife, weren’t their mother. Despite the responsibility you felt in taking care of the Fushiguro children (out of your best interest), it would still irk you that the notion would be tied to Satoru.

Satoru, who had dictated far too much of your life without trying. Satoru, who you would drop everything for if he simply asked. Then again, when did he ever truly need you? He was invincible.

But you’re in love with him, the annoying voice in your head reminds you.

“I have some reading to do,” you state in the most neutral voice you can muster. You can feel your eye about to twitch.

“Okay. You can do it here instead of downstairs. My bathroom has all the skincare stuff you like anyway, so that’s not an excuse,” he teases.

An hour later, you end up in Satoru’s king-sized bed reading a book about medicinal plants. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts shadows across the pages as you try to focus on the intricate descriptions of herb properties. 

Your mind keeps wandering, noting Satoru's presence just a few feet away. He's sprawled in an armchair, scrolling through his phone with an air of nonchalance that you know is entirely feigned.

You can feel his gaze flicking to you every few moments, like a gentle caress across your skin. The tension in the room is palpable. You want to jump out of your skin.

"You know," Satoru's voice breaks the silence, startling you, "I can hear you thinking from over here."

You look up, meeting his piercing blue eyes. There's a hint of amusement in them, but also something deeper, more intense.

"I'm just... reading," you mutter, gesturing weakly at the book in your lap.

Satoru raises an eyebrow. "Really? Because you haven't turned a page in about ten minutes."

Heat rises to your cheeks as you realize he's right. You've been staring blankly at the same paragraph, lost in your thoughts.

He stands, moving towards the bed with fluid grace. The mattress dips as he sits on the edge, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“You can afford to take a little break, hm?”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m trying to focus.”

“You’re not.” He smirks and the look on his face makes you scowl.

He moves to rest his head on your stomach, listening intently to the biorhythms of your belly. If only he could lift himself to kiss you higher on your body. Press his face into your chest so he could feel your pulse beating erratically. But your stubbornness acts enough as a barrier — not to mention the book you’re holding with an iron grip.

“Let me in, Twigs,” he mumbles. “I’ve missed you.”

“I see you all the time, Satoru.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Surely you’re not about to beg me for sex,” you scoff.

“I’m begging for you.”

You’re about to snap at him but the earnestness in his voice makes you pause.

Your fingers twitch, itching to run through his soft white hair. But you resist, keeping your hands firmly on the book.

“I’m comfy here,” he hums, sighing and stretching out like a cat. “You really don’t wanna give me more attention? After tonight’s nice dinner?”

You snort. “Is everything so transactional with you?”

“Of course not,” he mutters. “Just want affection.”

“You’re clingy.”

I know, he almost says. He almost wants to be pitiful about it, but he knows that won’t work on you. Not anymore. So he tries something else.

“Can you read your book to me?” he asks.

“It’s nonfiction. You’ll think it’s boring.”

“So? There’s so much to learn. Isn’t that what you always say?”

“Uh.” You bite your lip, your expression shifting as he rubs small circles on your thigh. “Okay.”

You start reading out loud, though your brain is barely connecting to your mouth. You merely run on autopilot, too distracted by Satoru’s touch to fully focus on the words on the page.

As you read, Satoru's fingers continue their lazy circles on your thigh, occasionally dipping to trace patterns on the sensitive skin of your inner leg. His touch is light, almost teasing, and you find yourself stumbling over words as your concentration wavers.

"You okay there?" he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You seem distracted."

You clear your throat, determined not to let him win this little game. "I'm fine," you insist, though your voice comes out slightly strained. "Just... the next part is complex."

"Mhmm," he hums, clearly unconvinced. His hand slides higher, ghosting over your hip. "Please, continue. I'm fascinated."

You take a deep breath and forge ahead, your voice growing steadier as you force yourself to focus on the text. But Satoru is relentless. His fingers dance along your skin. He nuzzles against your stomach, his breath warm even through the fabric of your shirt.

Your words falter again as he presses a soft kiss to your hipbone. "Satoru," you warn, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

He looks up at you, blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "Yeah?"

You want to be annoyed, to push him away and assert your need for space. But the affection in his gaze, mixed with that familiar intensity, makes your resolve weaken.

"You're impossible," you sigh, finally lowering the book.

A smile spreads across his face. "What? I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not. Just keep reading. I wanna listen.”

You roll your eyes but pick up the book again, determined to at least try to finish the chapter. As you resume reading, Satoru's hand continues its teasing exploration, tracing patterns up and down your thigh.

Your voice quivers as his fingers trace the curve of your hip, dipping teasingly beneath the hem of your shirt. You stumble over a particularly long sentence, heat rising to your cheeks as Satoru chuckles softly against your stomach.

"Having trouble?" he murmurs, his breath hot on your skin.

"N-no," you stutter, trying to regain your composure. "Don’t interrupt."

But your body betrays you, a small shiver running through you as Satoru's hand slides up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. Your breath catches, the words on the page blurring before your eyes.

“Satoru," you breathe, your stubbornness crumbling.

“I said, keep reading.”

You continue to read, though your voice is low and mumbling as you lose concentration. He rubs in between your thighs, making you shiver. You’re about to protest but he gives you a sharp look with a hint of a smirk.

You struggle, stammering over the words as he slowly slides down your shorts. Your breath hitches as Satoru's fingers ghost along the edge of your underwear. 

The book trembles in your hands, your voice faltering as you try to focus on the words on the page. You’re wound up so tight, he thinks it’s adorable. He can’t help but be a little mean about it.

He bites the fat of your inner thigh. You gasp, your hips involuntarily arching into his touch.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes dark with desire. "Keep going," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I want to hear every word."

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to continue reading even as Satoru's fingers slip beneath the fabric of your underwear. Your voice wavers, breaking on certain words as he teases you with feather-light touches. 

You’re wet enough for him to slip his fingers in easily. He whistles at the squelch, making you blush miserably. You’re stubborn enough to keep reading.

"Good," he praises softly, his breath hot against the apex of your thighs. "You're doing so well."

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to maintain your composure. The words blur together, your voice trailing off into a soft moan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

He looks up at you, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

You want to be frustrated with him, to push him away and regain some semblance of control. But the heat pooling in your core and the intensity of his gaze make it impossible to resist.

“Y-You’re being unfair,” you mumble.

“Hm? I’m just listening.”

You stumble over your words until you taper off into a whimper.

“You’re soaked here,” he hums. “Do plants turn you on that much?”

With a defeated groan, you let the book fall to the side, your fingers tangling in Satoru's white hair.

“No. You’re the one touching me.”

“Mm. I’m multitasking.”

“You’re being a —ahh —”

He presses a kiss to your clothed clit before he hooks his fingers under the edge of your underwear, slowly dragging them down your legs. The cool air hits your heated skin, making you shiver.

Your breath comes in short gasps, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly. When his mouth finally reaches your center, you cry out, arching off the bed. His tongue is all warm and wet muscle prodding your folds.

It isn’t the first time he’s done this, but the time it’s been since you last let him touch you makes it all feel new. Almost humiliating as your back curls upward, the need in your core yearning for his worship.

Satoru works you with practiced skill, groaning into your pussy as he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes. Easily, he slips his fingers inside you once more. You moan out and close your mouth with your palm.

It’s been so long — he can’t help but want to ruin you.

He loves you like this. Slack-jawed, eyes glistening. He uses three fingers pushed to the knuckle, chuckling at the lewd sounds of your wetness.

"Satoru," you moan, your voice breathy and desperate. "Please..."

The butterflies in your stomach swarm in a hectic frenzy. He hums against you when you pull his hair, the vibration adding more stimulation to your sensitive cunt. You're teetering on the edge, so close to falling apart. You’d forgotten how easy it was for him to get you there.

You whimper his name and the sound of your voice is foreign to you. It’s like you’re outside yourself — a mirage of the two of you playing like a fuzzy scene from a movie. Your mind is blank and heavy and hazy. Your senses are only filled with Satoru.

“You stopped reading,” he sighs. “Thought I told you to keep going?”

“I– hnnng – I c-can’t–”

“You sure?”

“Y-you–”

“What is it? Want something?”

He doubles his efforts with his mouth, his fingers continuing their relentless motions. His cock twitches when he hears the choked moan you let out.

The ecstasy that bursts from your core is so much. You shatter and he laps up every drop of the honey flowing from you. It’s too indulgent, all Dionysian pleasure.

You cry out his name and Satoru works you through it, drawing out your pleasure until you're a trembling, oversensitive mess. You almost want to pry him off of you. His mouth is latched onto your clit as he continues to bully his long fingers along your g-spot.

You wonder briefly if this is what it’s like to be an imploding star. A supernova collapsing in on itself from the gravity of heaven incarnate.

“S-Satoru,” you whimper.

He finally lets go of you but continues to pepper kisses along your thighs, soothing his palms over your trembling legs.

“S’okay, baby. Did so good for me,” he muses.

Despite your orgasm, you’re not feeling entirely satiated.

He looks almost amused as he rises and smiles at you softly. You exhale shakily and look down to see the bulge in his pants. It makes your mouth water.

“Good job. Very informative.”

“Wh-what?”

“Your book,” he grins.

“Oh.” You’d nearly forgotten what you were doing in the first place.

“You’ve been working so hard, yeah?” he says sweetly. “You should get some sleep.”

You look at him, bewildered. “What?”

“You should get some rest, baby.”

You eye him carefully, trying not to flicker your point of vision down to his dick. Was he… serious? Or teasing you?

You blink at him. Your body still tingles from your orgasm, but a new kind of tension coils in your core. You expected him to pounce, to claim you fully after weeks of distance. Instead, he's looking at you with an enigmatic smile, his blue eyes twinkling with something you can't quite decipher.

"But..." you start, then stop, unsure how to voice your thoughts without sounding desperate.

Satoru chuckles softly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. "What's wrong, Twigs? You look confused."

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your body responds to his proximity. He gets closer to you. It’s hard to think straight.

"I just thought..." you trail off, heat rising to your cheeks.

"Thought what?" he prompts, his voice low and teasing. His fingers rub your arm softly. You almost whimper at the contact. You need more.

You glance down at the obvious bulge in his pants, then back up to his face. "Don't you want to...?"

Satoru tilts his head. "Want to what?"

You huff in frustration, torn between embarrassment and arousal. "You know what I mean."

He leans back, stretching languidly. The movement causes his shirt to ride up, revealing a tantalizing strip of porcelain skin. You find your eyes drawn to it.

"I don’t," he says nonchalantly. "Besides, you need your rest, remember? Good weekend for studying, y’know?"

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to discern his game. This isn't like Satoru at all. Normally, he'd be all over you by now, his passion bordering on obsessive.

"Satoru," you start, your voice coming out needier than you intended.

He turns to you, his expression softening. "Yes, baby?"

“You’re not…?”

“Not what?” he asks innocently, yawning.

He almost laughs at the incredulous look on your face. 

He’s being cruel, he knows this. But he’s been so good after all, especially after unraveling you when you had protested at first. He won’t disturb your peace anymore, not asking for anything in return.

But your body feels so fucking hot. 

This alone makes you want to scream. It’s been weeks since he’s fucked you and he’s made it well-known how much he wants you. You know this, too. It’s why he’s been in the back of your mind even when you try to avoid him.

There would be guilt sometimes amongst other confusing feelings, but since your encounter with Suguru, you were trying not to revert to your past self and have frequent, reckless sex with Satoru just to numb the chaos in your head.

But fuck. You’re only human. He’d made you cum so hard just now and your pussy was still throbbing, needing him to fill you. And here he was, being considerate for once. Not pushing.

You won’t play this game with him, so you shake your head as you clear your throat.

“Never mind,” you mutter.

He kisses your cheek. “Still wanna sleep here?”

Your body feels sluggish, but the idea of sleeping next to his warm body and not being able to do anything about your overflowing lust seemed torturous.

“I have errands. Need to wake up early tomorrow,” you lie. “Tomorrow night, maybe.”

“Mmkay. Night, Twigs,” he hums sweetly.

You grit your teeth. “Night, Satoru.”

[9amartt]

I have a strong feeling that I will die soon, I always did, but the day never arrived -yet-. I am not wishing for death obviously, not at all, -words can just not convey my feeling like it truly is- I mean, I don’t have much to find in my scales anyway.. However, I feel like everyday is my last, I don’t plan my life in the future for I don’t see myself being part of it. I barely plan my day, simply because I am unaware of wether I’ll live to tick any of the checkboxes in my todo list.

A sane person would think that this mindset kept me always on check, always aware of my deeds, always careful and wary, but I was rather the opposite “I’ve done enough let me rest” I thought, or “there’s not much left I don’t have time to do anything immensely beneficial”. Yet my departure seemed further day by day, every night I was still here, living a new day, wasting my time and drowning in sin. 

What saved me from this depressing loop is dhikr, a small deed which doesn’t require much time but has great rewards, truly, read about the rewards of merely uttering a few words -with a present heart- which are easy on the tongue but heavy on the scales, and you’ll understand what I say. I no longer think I don’t have time, because this special deed doesn’t require any, and doing this little deed slowly motivates you to do even bigger ones, and to remember that if you intend to do a deed and death takes you before, you’ll still be rewarded for your intention. 

I know not many will relate to this feeling, but it is a thought that comes to my mind often, when I remember those who left before us, either to Jannah or to the swamps of misguidance. 

Those youths I used to befriend, those whom I wanted to meet In Jannah, those whom now I despise. People whom I used to love dearly because our love for Allah united us, so when they stopped loving Him -and love is not just a feeling- our bonds were severed and the flames of our enmity were ignited. I don’t want to be like them -(و اللهم لا شماته!!)- and that is why I want to rush to my lord for as long as there still is a molecule of eeman left in my heart. 

My fear from death is not greater than my fear from life, simply because once I’m dead I’m under 99 parts of the mercy of Allah, and here, only one. And because I envy those who are with their beloved -Allah- while I reside among my enemies. 

Even Abu Hurayrah shared this feeling with us, -us, those whose life in a world in which Allah is disobeyed became unbearable- so he said, “I wish I had never been created, he said such words to convey his severe fear from deviating from the path. And similar words came from the mouth of the companion of our prophet, the one who was called by Allah “the most God-Fearing” so he -may Allah be pleased with him- said: “I wish I were a tree that is cut down and eaten”… If such words came from those whose deeds are still known to this day, what can we, -strangers amongst strangers- say?

Oh Allah we ask you for firmness upon whatever You have decreed. 

[amity-moonrise]

Your first point makes sense, though I should’ve clarified on what the ableist action is in the original post because it was too general. In my original post I meant ableism towards plurality and systemhood specifically, but yes, some anti endos can be ableist in ways unrelated to plurality and CDD stuff, though I never said that trauma can be used as an excuse, I stated it as an explanation, which is not the same as an excuse. People should be held accountable regardless of trauma or not, we only mentioned it because it’s something that most anti endos struggle with, especially when they also have trauma from endogenic systems. That kind of trauma is not easy to get rid of and it does leave negative consequences, but a good person would understand that and take responsibility for their actions.

Now for your second point, I understand that healthy plurality exists, but being plural in the first place is something that is typically not supposed to happen in the human brain. The only possible ways it could happen is either through childhood trauma while the brain is still developing, or (and this is purely just our educated theory based on what we know about genetics and evolution, so just take it from a hypothetical perspective), mutations that might make someone more likely to be plural regardless of trauma or not, like how theres genes that can determine if someones brain develops as a neurotypical brain or as an autistic brain (apologies for the wording if it sounds weird, its 6 in the morning and I am tired ;-;). Mutations happen all the time, but that doesn’t mean they are always good, and right now, there is no evidence of plurality being affected by genetics, which means that at the moment, it occurs from hinderance in development. When we talk about how plurality is not normal, we mean that the human brain, at the current moment with the research we have, is not meant to develop plurality and handle it in a healthy manner on its own, those are skills that you don’t typically develop because again, your brain usually doesn’t develop them, you develop healthy skills from therapists and professionals.

If your plurality isn’t bothering you and you’re able to live healthy lives without trauma then great, you got it a lot easier than a lot of us, but it doesn’t ignore the fact that plurality is just not really supposed to happen simply because the brain is not programmed to be one by default. If it happens then it happens, but there is a good chance that it is likely the result of hinderance in development, which is why it’s important to get it checked to make sure that it’s not affecting you negatively right now and that it won’t affect you negatively in the future. It’s always good to check for the bad and make sure that what you’re experiencing is actually healthy, so you can rule out disorders and illnesses.

All in all, we probably should have clarified a lot more for our first point on ableism, and as for the second point ad plurality in general, theres still a lot that we don’t know about. Heck I could be wrong about it completely and find out more about how plurality actually existed in history and throughout evolution and how the brain actually develops non traumagenic plurality. We’re open to explore the new science and research that pops up from time to time about plurality, but right now, this is what we know.

It’s just a shame that people aren’t willing to do the research as much due to how stigmatized the whole concept of plurality is in general and also how mental illnesses are typically not studied enough unless it’s disorders that are more known or “popular” in a sense (like BPD, bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety, etc)

(Also on your point on non traumagenic systems relating to CDD systems, if you relate to CDD systems but know that your plurality is fine, then great! We only suggest that you look into it especially if you relate to parts of the CDD systems experience that have nothing to do with alters at all, like dissociation, memory loss, or ptsd episodes, because there could be something else going on)

Ive seen non traumagenic systems online claim to have dealt with ableism regarding their plurality and calling anti endos ableist and sometimes it makes me wonder if they even realize what they’re saying.

Let me point out two very important things…

1, anti endos are not ableist, we’re literally trying to defend our disorder because it’s already stigmatized and demonized a lot by social media and having non traumagenic people associate themselves with us in any remote way makes it harder to convince people to take CDD systems seriously. Yes, some anti endos are rude, mean, and sometimes bullies, and thats not right because people shouldn’t be hurting each other, but you need to understand that the level of trauma systems have been through to even get a CDD is severe (in a subjective standpoint since everyone experiences and processes trauma differently), so when we see people who are like us without the bad parts, without the memory loss or the trauma, we see it as a mockery 90% of the time, as something that invalidates our experiences that we didn’t ask for. Not all traumagenic systems have gone through recovery, which means many will carry negative traits and habits that they picked up from their trauma, us included. We have not gone through any sort of recovery yet and we will make mistakes, it’s just how our disorder is at the moment, but it doesn’t excuse our actions and we should be held accountable if we make a mistake. If you are being harassed by anti endos, then walk away and block the person.

You can’t expect CDD systems to be nice to you, especially when a lot of us have dealt with ableism and trauma from non traumagenic systems. It’s the Internet, if you don’t like something, scroll.

2, if your non traumagenic plurality doesn’t hinder your life and make it difficult to live then it’s not a disability. If it’s something you willed into existence and quite literally asked for (talking about willowgenics and tulpas to some extent) then it’s not a disability. And if it does affect your life negatively then it’s something that you should actually get checked because chances are, you’re probably otherwise traumagenic or deal with something else with similar symptoms. There may not be enough research on CDDs and non traumagenic plurality but if it actually is making your life difficult then you need to seek help, because regardless of your origin, plurality is not normal. Humans are not supposed to have multiple parts/alters because our brains are not meant to handle separate parts that way without leaving negative consequences; at most we are supposed to have a 3 dimensional identity that is still one whole and can change and adapt over time, but also shouldn’t affect your memory, your mental health, or impact your life negatively.

Ableism is hate targeted towards disabled people, which can include autistic people, people with ADHD, people in wheelchairs, people who wear glasses or are legally blind, cane users, nonverbal people, people with personality disorders, people with schizophrenia, and of course, people with a CDD. Every single disabled person will tell you that they did not ask for this disability and would rather be normal instead, because like we said, disabilities impact peoples lives negatively.

If you’re someone who genuinely understands the struggles CDD systems face yet also deal with non traumagenic plurality, then you would know when to not overstep and push CDD systems at their limit. You would know to not misuse medical terms which are meant for CDD systems to use. You would know to look into your plurality and see if it is truly non traumagenic or if it’s an actual disorder or a CDD and get treatment, rather than taking no action on it. You would know to stay away from CDD spaces and not invade them.

Plurality is not studied enough, and theres a good chance that there might be an answer to what causes non traumagenic plurality or what it even is, but regardless of what it is, it is definitely not comparable to a CDD. If you relate more with CDD systems than non traumagenic systems, then you really should look into it.

[tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff]

High and listening to girl in red for the first time ever and compiling a Pinterest wlw board titled “sapphic” and it’s pictures of women doing couple-y stuff and kissing and just being together in love and I’ve only recently accepted to myself that I’m a lesbian and am finally allowing myself to embrace this part of myself and I am so happy to be alive right now which I know is the opposite of who I was only just a few years ago and I just want to say life gets good if you believe you deserve it.

[cecoeur]

How do you sleep at night? No one to hide behind Betrayed every alibi you had You had every chance to make amends instead you got drunk on bitterness And you still claim that you're innocent, it's sad

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

There is a difference between using darkness imagery to expose the darkness and get it out of your head to prove how defeatable it can be and romanticizing it to make it desirable and making your problems worse. One will save your life and soul and the other will corrupt you further.

Stop mixing them up.

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

The refugees in Sirion hearing the grind of metal and angry shouts and thinking it’s happening again.

[lizlemondyke]

seth meyers gave me this soup. hashtag blessed.