#but it's kind of depressing me because my god i love my house

[imalayla]

I've got to get this shit off my mind or I'll go insane

GUTTER PROJECT:

TOP PRIORITY to preserve house integrity

I have 2 in shape downspouts. I need AT LEAST 3 more. unsure, I need to measure my house. How to do this? Will one of those long measuring tapes work well enough? I will need 3 adapters and 3 extenders to go with the 3 downspouts. I will also need the appropriate amount of brackets. I need the actual gutters that go around the fascia (?) of the roof. This will include 5 outside corners, 1 inside corner, and two end caps.

Last but not least, I need A LADDER so I can REACH. I will price check all of these tomorrow.

Should i buy all new gutters and downspouts to replace the aging ones that's on my house now? Vinyl stuff seems pretty cheap, but maybe that's for a reason. Aluminum is sensory hell. I could also get PVC pipe to extend the downspouts 10 feet away from the house as is recommended. Not sure what to do on the north side of my house, since it's directly beside my neighbors but I'll hopefully figure out some sort of drainage situation. Anything is better than what I have now, lol. Maybe I can hide it in the yard, and that way when I plant my native grasses, they'll have a little irrigation system.

Need to get three more flood lights for the motion sensor light in the front porch.

LIVING ROOM PROJECT:

NOT top priority functionally, but it depresses me how ugly the living room looks so I'd like to improve my QOL...

Currently have enough supplies to scrape and sand all the wood trim in the living room. Also have the appropriate amount of drop cloths and tape to protect the floors. Nothing is stopping me besides executive dysfunction and the front door. I really would like to take the front door off the hinges so I can scrape it and install the weather stripping properly. i don't know anyone locally that can help me, so I'm kind of fucked there. Once that's scraped, I will buy some semi-gloss Kiltz oil based primer, prime the trim, and ponder on a color scheme later (though I have ideas.)

Once that is done, I will start scraping the walls to prepare for my attempt at skim coating. Should I buy stuff to fill in the cracks in the plaster? Is that something within my skill set? or will this just add another layer of executive dysfunction that will block me from doing this?

Supplies needed for skim coating: Drywall mud, paint roller & long arm, bucket for drywall mud, tray for rolling off paint roller, drywall knives (whatever they're called), sanding blocks with an extendable arm. Eggshell Kiltz primer (probably not oil based, but I'm not sure yet.) Will ponder on actual paint colors later, though I have ideas.

Want the bamboo roll up shades, as they're pretty appropriate for the house and I like them more than these ugly wide white blinds. Want the rainbow privacy film you can apply to the windows so they offer some privacy while allowing light in.

BATHROOM PROJECT:

LOWER PRIORITY but it's also pretty ugly and since i have all the supplies, why not...

Pretty much have all the supplies necessary for this. Need to take down the things screwed into the walls (shelves, hand towel holder) and commit to scraping the wallpaper and old paint off the walls. Sand a little. Spackle some of the holes. Prime. Also need to scrape & sand & prime the wooden trim, same method as living room. Will ponder on actual color schemes once everything is scraped and primed. Probably no skim coating needed in the bathroom. Want rainbow privacy film for that as well. Maybe a bamboo roll up shade as well? Also find out if HVAC people can do a bathroom vent installation.

Want to get some floating shelves, or perhaps one of those storage things that goes over the toilet. Far in the future, I want to pull the old shelves out of the linen closet in there, clean it, spackle the cracks, scrape old paint off, and then repaint and install new wire shelves for better organizing. It'll look more "modern" but it won't affect the character of the house since it's behind a door.

YARD PROJECTS:

Rent chainsaw, buy triclopyr, cut down the nandina and other invasive bushes i have in my yard, paint cut stumps to kill.

Start planning what to plant in the early spring. Thinking of bushes for around the house and in front of the fence to block visibility to the road. Native grasses and small trees in the front and side yard.

Eventually I would love to have the fence facing the road replaced with privacy fencing, but this is not a priority yet. Also would love to find out if we could somehow pour a concrete pad on the south side of the house for parking, so I don't have to park in the street, or in the back yard.

OTHER THINGS THE HOUSE NEEDS

Get quote for bringing electrical up to code -> MEDIUM PRIORITY

Get HVAC unit tuned up -> HIGH PRIORITY

Get more insulation blown into attic -> HIGH PRIORITY

Get roofer to evaluate the water damage -> MEDIUM PRIORITY

Get plumber to look at our pipes and see if any of the old ones on the sides of the house can be removed, so there will be less holes in the roof (Plus it will look nicer) -> LOW PRIORITY

Get quote for installing a tankless water heater -> MEDIUM PRIORITY

Kitchen projects, mud room, and back area of the house are unfortunately the lowest priority right now but there's so much that I want to redo there too. It's just going to be way more involved, and currently it's "functional" so whatever.

[pepprs]

also the favoritism thing is still making me so fucking mad and insane btw. im not jealous / resentful of my brother bc he deserves her love and is also burdened in his own ways by it and bc i think my drama w my mom has shaped my life in profound ways and given me friends i cherish and i would never trade any of that for the world but jesus fucking christ. why do i have to beg you to interact with me like a mother. why do i have to talk to me at all beyond asking me to do you 847439473 favors a day. why do i have to beg you to take an interest in my life and apologize when you hurt me and be nurturing and perceptive for once in your fucking life. like it hurts to hear her asking him about his classes and whatever bc she didn’t think i was stressed out w school but i had to talk to a ****** hotline last decemver when i couldn’t take it anymore and my mental health was crashing and burning and it doesn’t even fucking matter to her at all and she’s going to get him the nice gifts and throw him the nice parties and whatever because she hates me and my sister for… and let me get this straight… being complicated and anxious and depressed and also girls. lol!

[luveline]

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k 

ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt. 

It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat. 

But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too. 

Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well. 

He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause. 

“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun. 

It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years. 

He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled. 

He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!” 

Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love). 

“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.” 

“It’s raining.” 

“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?” 

“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.” 

“How’d you figure?” 

Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface. 

Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall. 

“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.” 

You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?” 

Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry. 

“Why didn’t you just call me?”’

“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.” 

“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.” 

You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash. 

When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?” 

Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.” 

“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole. 

Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it. 

“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.” 

“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?” 

You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries. 

No, that’s pervy, isn’t it? 

“I mean–” He starts to correct himself. 

You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says. 

They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.

“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek. 

Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume. 

He put it back and felt like a loser for days.

“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom. 

The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full. 

Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.” 

“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.” 

The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you. 

Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies. 

Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn. 

He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.

“Woah!” you say, laughing.

“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!” 

“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.” 

At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.” 

“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease. 

“Take the towels, loser.” 

You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin. 

Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.

Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life. 

You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you. 

“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain. 

Eddie just stares at you. 

“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry. 

“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”

“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic. 

“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh. 

Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.” 

“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?” 

“What?” 

“Eddie, are you okay?” 

“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“I don’t have any underwear.” 

“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry. 

Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”

Wayne wrinkles his nose. 

“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says. 

“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”

“I’m pathetic.” 

“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.” 

“I’m twenty one.” 

“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.” 

Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.” 

“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”

“What if she says no?” he asks. 

Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes. 

Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?” 

“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.” 

Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.

Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Get lost,” Eddie says. 

“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.” 

That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved. 

“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed. 

“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.” 

“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?” 

Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser. 

You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.” 

Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on. 

“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet. 

“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.” 

“It felt important at the time.” 

“Yeah?” 

You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him. 

“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.” 

“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.” 

“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.

Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment. 

You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.” 

“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head. 

You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks. 

This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different. 

“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable. 

“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.” 

You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead. 

“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.” 

“What am I doing?” 

“You’re rubbing my arm.” 

He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach. 

“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest. 

That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end. 

Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume. 

“You smell nice,” he murmurs. 

“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back. 

Right. Eddie should remember. 

“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days. 

“Too much?” 

“The right amount,” he says firmly. 

You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this. 

He can’t believe you’ve never done it before. 

Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back. 

“Any warmer now?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.” 

“For me or you?” 

“For me, duh.” 

Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.” 

“You think so?” 

“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.” 

You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.” 

You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it. 

“We’re very close together,” you whisper. 

“Super close,” he whispers back. 

“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm. 

“Yeah.” 

He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do. 

“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?” 

“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.

“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.” 

Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?” 

“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?” 

What does Eddie think about it? 

He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer. 

Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?” 

“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly. 

He can’t not give it to you. 

Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead. 

His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue. 

You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur. 

Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse. 

“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly. 

“You wanted to?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”

“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.” 

You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy. 

His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs. 

You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly. 

Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency. 

He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask. 

—

Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring. 

The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door. 

He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him. 

“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says. 

Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?” 

You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.” 

He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?” 

“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.

“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.

You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.” 

Eddie grins back. 

He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring. 

As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed. 

“Eyes on the road.” 

He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather. 

“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.” 

“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding. 

He sighs. “No, it does not.” 

“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.” 

Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.” 

You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less. 

“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.” 

“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw. 

You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped. 

You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say. 

“Then open it.” 

“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?” 

It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it. 

“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease. 

“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 

You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier. 

He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working. 

“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” 

“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully. 

To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.” 

“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended. 

You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.” 

“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.” 

“Now who’s not funny?” 

You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed. if you did, please consider reblogging or commenting!! thanks very much <3

[charmedreincarnation]

MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!

Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.

So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …

So What did I do

I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).

During the Day

https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV

https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT

During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!

Overnight

https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH

https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1

What I Manifested

- Master shifting abilities

- Master void state abilities

- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven

- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.

I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.

I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.

My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!

I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?

Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.

anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.

You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.

― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.

― wc: 905

⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!

masterlist | AO3

The room felt melancholic. Empty. 

The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.

You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?

Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.

So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 

You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 

What happened?

It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.

“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”

You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.

Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.

“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.

“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 

“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.

You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you.

“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.

There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”

“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”

“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 

With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.

“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”

“How do I know if this won’t happen again?

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.

“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[auras-moonstone]

hockey player ethan/jack?? what do we think

HOT!!! that’s what we think. anyways happy august season to the august girlies<3 this was very painful yet fun to write btw

august — ethan landry

word count: 3,180

pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader

based on: august by taylor swift

summary: y/n and ethan had never seen each other with romantic eyes, until she pulls up her car. after that, their summer love adventure starts.

warnings: angst, fluff, cheating and that’s it i guess

part one part two

Y/N WAS CERTAINLY NOT PROUD OF WHAT SHE DID, BUT SHE COULDN’T LIE TO HERSELF, SHE DID NOT REGRET IT. Did that make her a bad person? Probably, and maybe that’s why karma got her, because sneaking around with someone’s boyfriend—even if it that someone was Betty, whom Y/N absolutely despised—had been a dick move, and she knew it all too well. But then again, Ethan’s puppy brown eyes had been like a trap. A trap she had fallen for unexpectedly and deeply.

Ethan Landry was the captain of the Blackmore Hockey Team—which Y/N’s brother, Drew, was a part of—, and Blackmore University’s golden boy. He was beyond untouchable, and taken by the captain of the cheerleader squad: Betty Harkness. They were the perfect couple on papers, but everyone knew they didn’t get along very well, and that they broke up and made up back and forth.

Everyone wanted Ethan—he was gorgeous, confident, hilarious, kind, athletic and pretty much every positive adjective you could find. But Y/N always saw him as Drew’s friend and Ethan always saw her as Drew’s little sister (although she was only a few months younger than them). Until one action completely changed the course of their lives.

“Eth? Are you on your way to hockey practice?” Y/N pulled up her car when he saw the tall boy walking on the sidewalk, hockey stick over his broad shoulder.

“Y/N! Yes. My car broke down, and now I have to walk” Ethan said, scrunching his nose.

“Get in the car, dumbass. I’ll drive you” she said, opening the shotgun door.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you heading somewhere else?”

“No, actually I was going to see the practice too. My best friend left to visit some relatives, so I have no plans. Drew invited me to the practice when he saw me mopping around the house”

Ethan laughed, and got into the car “You’re a life saver. But hey, does that mean you have to spend your whole summer all alone? That’s awful”

Y/N shook her head “Only a week and a half. Now I kinda wish I had more friends, although staying at home watching rom-coms doesn’t sound that bad”

“God, you depress me” Ethan groaned.

“Sorry Mr. So Popular I Get Invited To Every Party” she teased him.

“You could get invited to parties too, if you didn’t have that bitchy face whenever someone approaches you with an invitation” Ethan said, trying to contain a smile.

“I do that?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

Ethan raised his eyebrows “You don’t do that on purpose?”

“No! I mean, I would take the invitation even though parties aren’t my thing and will probably not go”

“Why? Because you’re not like other girls?” he joked.

Y/N scoffed “No, you dick. I get anxious around big crowds, especially intoxicated crowds” she explained.

“Oh… now I do feel like a dick”

The girl sent him a reassuring smile “It’s okay”

“You know, this is the first time we talk without Drew around” Ethan said.

“You’re right. What’s your veredict? Am I better company than my brother?” she asked, playful smile on her lips.

“Oh, most definitely” he said mirroring her smile “Jokes aside, you’re actually fun to be around”

“You doubted that?? What a wrong thing to assume from someone who was the authority to kick you out of her car” Y/N tried to keep a serious expression, but Ethan’s laugh ruined it.

“True, true. I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Y/N/N. Please don’t leave me stranded” Ethan said, putting his palms together and looking at her with his deep brown eyes.

Had he always had those cute puppy eyes? And holy shit was he handsome, and charming. How did that go past her all this time?

Y/N did an exaggerated sigh “Fine, I guess I am feeling a little kind-hearted today, so I’ll give you a pass”

“Oh, thank you, benevolent Y/N” he said, and then both bursted out laughing.

Ethan sneaked out glances at her throughout the rest of the ride, wondering how he had never noticed how funny and gorgeous she was. And had she always had that shiny smile?

what are you wearing? 😏

um my grandma’s camisole

who is this?

you’re supposed to say i’m just in my underwear or something sexy jesus y/n🙄

you’re absolutely disgusting, stranger

who are you??

a very handsome and espectacular hockey player (the best on the team, if you want my opinion)

omg julian hi!! i was going to ask for your number but i never had the courage tbh

WHAT THE FUCK YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON JULIAN YOUR BROTHER IS GOING TO KILL YOU

AND HES NOT THE BEST ON THE TEAM 😡

lmaoo

you’re fricking adorable ethan

oh you knew it was me

what gave it away? the handsome part or the espectacular hockey player??

your ego🫤

ah yes makes sense🤔

so… no crush on julian?

nope :)

why are you texting me tho?

i’m bored and you told me you had no plans

so, meet me behind the mall?

we can go see a movie or something

if you want to, ofc

oooh i heard they are playing twilight 🥺🥺

not gonna happen

pretty please????? don’t be judgemental

it’s a classic

we have very different opinions on the term “classic”

come on don’t be like that😫😫 i really want to go

plus we can watch a movie you want another day???

okay fineeee

see you in an hour?!

see ya👹

what the fuck is that emoji

it’s the closest thing to a vampire 😭

🧛🏻🧛🏻‍♂️ there you go, the emojis actually exist

OMG YOU JUST CHANGED MY LIFE

you’re the dorkiest dork i’ve ever met

a cute one tho ;)

thank you but get your ass moving

robert pattinson is waiting for me!!!

ETHAN WOULD ABSOLUTELY HATE THE MOVIE IF THE SIGHT OF Y/N’S EXCITED FACE WASN’T SO GODDAMN HEART WARMING. Ethan didn’t know what was going on with him, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her ever since the drive—which was a week ago. He yearned for her sarcastic remarks and funny comebacks. He found himself going to Drew’s house more often just to catch a small glimpse of the gorgeous girl, who would smile brightly at him when she caught him staring.

Yes, they were definitely flirting. And he felt like he was fifteen again having his first crush. But the attraction was obviously mutual, so he didn’t hesitate to make a move.

“How many times have you watched this movie again?” Ethan whispered in her ear, and she felt goosebumps all over her body. How could a voice be that sexy?

“Like… ten times? I don’t know. Why? Am I reciting the lines too much?” she asked embarrassed.

Ethan bit his lip softly, his heart not taking her cuteness “No, just wondering if you could miss five minutes of it”.

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss you”

“But I wanna keep on watching Robert” she teased as she got closer to the tall boy.

“You’re seriously talking about another guy while I am one second away from kissing the fuck out of you?”

Y/N shrugged “Deal with it”

“As you wish”

The arm rest was stabbing her ribcage but Y/N didn’t care about anything else other than that intoxicating kiss. She didn’t feel anything but the heat of his touch on her waist, on her jaw, on her neck—everywhere. And Ethan didn’t care about anything else but her soft lips, the feel of her fingers on his hair, the little whimpers she was making as his tongue explored her mouth.

“Now that I think about it, I can miss the rest of the movie” she spoke against his lips.

Ethan smirked “My house?” Y/N nodded eagerly.

THE SILKY SHEETS FELT SOFT AGAINST HER NAKED SKIN AND THE WARMTH OF ETHAN’S BODY MADE HER WANT TO NEVER GET UP. But it was practice day, so Ethan’s alarm went off, and they both groaned. The night had been amazing, after whispers of ‘are you sure?’ and ‘never have i ever before’, they ended up twisted in his bedsheets and the memory of the passionate rounds were the first thing that came to their minds as they woke up.

“We need to get up, Eth. You have practice” Y/N said as the sleepy boy pulled her towards him.

“But you look so pretty beneath the sun and in my sheets” he whispered, kissing her collarbone.

Y/N blushed “Come on, we have to go”

“We? Are you coming to the practice?” Ethan said excitedly.

Y/N nodded “If that’s okay”

“Yes! Prepare to be left enchanted by my hockey skills”

“I’ve seen you play hundreds of times, Eth” she laughed. “I know you’re fantastic”

“I will dedicate every score to you” he kissed her softly.

“Wow, I’m so excited and honoured” Y/N said in a high-pitched voiced.

“You’re so mean” Ethan laughed. “By the way… are you feeling okay? Aren’t first times painful?”

“Well, my legs feel a little bit weird, but I’m okay. Thank you” Y/N smiled sweetly, and he pressed his lips to her temple.

Was it too soon to say she had, maybe, fallen for him? Could he possibly feel the same? Y/N could only hope it wasn’t just a summer thing for him, because she certainly knew it wouldn’t be for her.

AUGUST HAD SIPPED AWAY LIKE A BOTTLE OF WINE AND SOON CLASSES STARTED AGAIN. And the feeling of anxiety filled Y/N’s chest. What would happen now? Would Ethan break up with Betty or was he going to let the memories of august slip away into just a moment in time? They had never talked about it, they just enjoyed their moments together.

“Well, well, she’s alive! Who would’ve thought?” the voice of Willow, her best friend, filled her ears.

“Hi, my gorgeous beautiful pretty friend” Y/N said with a guilty smile as she approached her.

“No, no. There’s not enough adjectives in the world to remediate the fact that you cancelled our plans all summer” Willow crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“I’m sorry… I need to confess something”

Willow raised her eyebrows “I’m hearing”

“Promise not to freak out? It’s important that you stay calm, we’re in the hallway”

“I promise”

“I’ve been seeing someone during the summer” she whispered.

Willow’s eyes almost popped out of her face “Holy shit! Who?”

“Remember your promise, okay?” Y/N reminded her, and she nodded impatiently. “Ethan”.

Willow didn’t scream, or gasp, or choked in surprise. She laughed. “Oh my god, imagine!” wow, was it that unbelievable? Y/N stared at her with a serious expression and soon Willow realized it wasn’t a joke. “Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N/N? Are we talking about Ethan Landry? Captain of the team? Your brother’s friend? Mr. Popular? Betty Harnkness’ boyfriend?”

“Yes, Willow. Congratulations, you know him!”

“Don’t use that tone with me right now! Y/N he has a girlfriend”

Y/N sighed “I know, okay? And I feel a little bad. But it’s too late, okay? It’s done”

“A little bad?” Willow repeated, trying not to laugh.

“Well, it is Betty we are talking about. And are they really into each other or is just for social status?”

“Yeah… what is going to happen? Are him and Betty over? Are you two dating?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know and no” she answered. “We haven’t talked about it”

“I bet you didn’t talk at all” Willow smirked.

“Actually… we did. I mean, we did have fun doing… physical stuff but we also talked a lot” Y/N said with a smile “He’s so amazing, Willow. He’s so easy to talk to, he’s funny, sweet, laughs at my jokes, takes care of me, compliments me every chance he has, he’s an amazing kisser… he dedicated me every single score he did when he played. It was so sweet”

“Holy shit, Y/N you really fell for him”

“I know” you could almost see the sparks radiating off her.

“Well, lover girl. Let’s go to class, and then you’ll tell me all the details”

And as they walked through the hallway they caught sight of Ethan’s group. Against the lockers were Drew, Julian, Chad, Tara, Mindy, Anika, Betty and Ethan, whose arms was draped around Betty’s waist.

Y/N felt her surroundings get frozen, a knot appeared on her throat and she was pretty sure she was about to cry. Just like that, every hope and excitement left inside her turned into ashes. She wanted to keep walking, but her feet were glued to the floor.

“Fuck, Y/N/N” Willow whispered, as she saw what had left her best friend in such state “Let’s keep walking” she grabbed her friend’s hand and started to guide her towards the classroom.

But to do that, they had to walk past the group. The two friends set their eyes on their goal—the classroom—praying they wouldn’t notice them.

“Y/N/N!” shit no, no no. Willow squeezed her friend‘s hand tightly as they heard Drew calling her. She had no choice.

“It’s okay, I’m here” Willow whispered as they dragged their feet towards them.

“Hi” they said, Willow’s tone was dry while Y/N’s was just low and unstable.

“Hey, just wanted to give you these” Drew said, handing her two tickets. “For the hockey match this weekend. You are going, right?”

“I don’t know. Willow and I have plans” Y/N said, only looking at Drew.

“But it’s our last match. And we’re pretty confident we’re winning, with our star player right here” Drew said, patting Ethan’s arm. The boy laughed, and Y/N felt her heart clench at the beautiful sound.

“Yeah, Y/N/N come on. You enjoy hockey” his voice addressing her did nothing but make her want to cry in the spot. Was he mocking her? Y/N didn’t look at him, and Willow threw him a dirty glance.

“Y/N’s thing is to stay home with her lame romantic comedies” Betty’s annoying voice said.

“Shut up, Betty” Tara said harshly.

“Please? I really want you there” Drew told her.

How could she say no? She loved her brother “Okay, okay. We will be there” she faked a smiled so he won’t see how miserable she was feeling.

But he was her brother, and knew her like the back of his hand “Hey, what’s wrong?” he grabbed his sister by the cheeks, eyes reflecting how worried he was.

“Nothing” god she felt so pathetic. It was now obvious she was about to cry. And she was doing it in front of her brother’s friends, the boy who broke her heart and his girlfriend “I need to go to class, see you later”.

By the end of the day, Y/N felt absolutely defeated. Her energy was drained, the knot on her throat didn’t want to go away and her mind was making fun of her by replaying the memories of her summer love thing with Ethan. But as if God took pity on her, the last class of the day got suspended so she got to go home early.

But apparently it was the Let’s Make Y/N Feel Like Shit day, because Ethan had been waiting for her in the hood of her car, with his perfect mullet hair and his hockey jersey that looked absolutely amazing on him. She had no escape.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she spoke. Now she felt furious, how dare he show his face after that morning?

“I needed to talk to you” Ethan said in a soft voice.

“I have things to do. So, I’m really sorry, but not right now”

“By ‘things’ do you mean go home, make cookies and watch 10 things I hate about you?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“Don’t act as if you knew me” she spitted in anger.

The smile fell from his face “I do know you, Y/N/N”

“Well then, you might’ve realized that I don’t want to talk to you at all” she said, trying not to let the tears fall. Why was he there? Wasn’t the pain he put on her that morning enough?

“Please… I- I need to explain what happened. It’s not what it looked like” Ethan said.

“So, you’re telling me that you actually broke up with Betty?” she asked, already knowing what the answer would be. Ethan sighed and shook his head no. “Then it was exactly what it looked like. And you even had the audacity to mock me!”

“What?! I didn’t mock you” Ethan said truthfully.

“Y/N/N come on. You enjoy hockey” she imitated his voice. “You were mocking me. You know I don’t care about hockey, I just cared about seeing you and my brother”

“I- god yes, it sounded bad. But I swear I didn’t mean it like that. It was my way of telling you everything was okay”

“What the fuck?!” she laughed dryly “Nothing is okay, Ethan! You are still with her. And I know we didn’t state you were breaking up with her to be with me, but I just thought… I thought you would do it. That we had something going on. I thought it was more than a summer thing”.

“It was more than that, I promise. It was so much more than a summer thing. I’ve never felt something so strong towards someone”

“Then why are you still with her?”

“I… don’t know. I just-she saw me and everyone was watching us… I couldn’t break up with her. I’m sorry. With the match coming up, I didn’t want to add any unnecessary drama… I just thought it wasn’t the right time to break up”

“Unnecessary drama? The match? Are you fucking serious? It didn’t cross your mind how would I feel when I saw you with your arms around her? Well, in case you were wondering it was fucking devastating. I was just telling Willow what an amazing guy you are… how in love I am with you. And then I saw you two… it sucked, Ethan. So I’m sorry if your apologies aren’t enough. Now I need to go”

“How in love I am with you” were the words that resonated on Ethan’s head as he watched Y/N drive away. She was in love with him, and he was very much in love with her too, but he wrecked everything.

“Hey, man. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Drew found him in the empty hallway.

“I screwed it up, Drew. I hurt her”

“What’s are you talking about?” but Ethan did nothing but sob with his head in his hands. “It’s okay, man. Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay”

But Ethan didn’t know if it was going to be okay. He cursed for having been so careless with the relationship, for having though that wanting would be enough. It wasn’t. He should’ve been clear with Betty. His top priority should’ve been Y/N, not Betty nor the hockey match. He ruined it, but he was going to do everything in his power to make it up to her. He was determined to win back the girl he loved.

[sansaorgana]

Oh my God!!

"You talked in your sleep... do you really love me?"

With Buck Cleven X reader, please?? Maybe reader is his best friend and sometimes talks in her sleep? So, best friends to lovers?? Please you'd cure my depression 😭😍

Love you & thank you 💕

hiii I'm so sorry you had to wait so long 😭 does anyone even still remember me omg 😫 thank you for your request! I didn't use this exact quote but the situation is the same and The Reader is a nurse here 😷

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Working as a nurse and befriending some of these boys, you mostly dreaded the day when one of them would come to you in a state that was doomed. To stare at your dying friend in pain, knowing you can’t do anything about it… That was keeping you awake at night. It was already difficult enough already to witness the boys you didn’t know at all die like this and not be able to help. But a vision of one of your friends in this situation was impossible to handle at times.

The one you worried about the most was Major Gale Cleven, the one everyone kept calling Buck. But you were the only person who still was calling him Gale. He was your friend from the moment he showed up. Handsome, charming but in a quiet way, kind-hearted and very responsible. You admired the way he was with his boys; like an older brother they could look up to. And not long time had passed until you realised you were actually in love with him.

Of course you would never admit that. But it made you smile when the boys admitted you were their favourite nurse, when they were treating you like the female equivalent of Gale Cleven at the base. Almost as if you were playing house with him with a bunch of pilots who were like your sons.

But loving a pilot was a dangerous business for the heart. Not that love could have been prevented. You had no control over that. But at least it was unrequited – in other circumstances you would cry your heart out into your pillow at night for loving someone who didn’t reciprocate his feelings. But this time it was for the better.

Yet, when you found him in the med bay after one of the missions, your heart skipped a beat. Your friend was talking to him softly, his face was in blood. You approached them immediately, ignoring other patients waiting for your care and attention.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” You asked, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“His plane got hit,” your friend explained. “He managed to come back and land safely with a concussion, can you imagine?” The admiration in her voice made you feel jealous and you hated this side of you. She had every right to admire him for this sort of achievement. “I have to clean the wounds on his face. Poor lad, they’re gonna leave scars.”

“I’ll do it,” you dismissed her and moved past her, nearly pushing her away. She was surprised at your reaction but she didn’t have time to think about it or comment because other patients needed her.

So, she left you alone with Gale. His beautiful eyes were hazy from the concussion and probably a state of shock his body was in. He wouldn’t be able to fly a plane with a concussion if not for the adrenaline in his blood system.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly when you started to clean the wounds on his face gently. They were not very deep but they caused lots of bleeding and your friend was right; some of them would leave scars. Not that you minded, you only hoped he wouldn’t grow insecure because of them. “You’ve gained some scars, brave fly boy,” you chuckled nervously but he only looked at you like he didn’t recognise you. “It’s okay. You’ll sleep it off,” you caressed his hair gently. 

He was confused and in pain but yet, you hated yourself for kind of liking this version of Gale Cleven. Not only was he even more adorable than usual but also you could allow yourself the gestures you would never do if he was acting like himself.

When his face was clean and you washed some of his hair, too – the parts that got stuck together with blood, you laid him down gently and smiled softly at his handsome face. He reached his hand out as if he wanted you to hold it. An unusual thing to do, which made your heart flutter in your chest, but you tried to remember that he was not acting sane at the moment. Still, you gently took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed. You decided to be with him until he’d wake up. Even if it would be the whole rest of the day and a night.

“Other boys need you,” the doctor approached you with a furrowed brow.

“He needs me the most,” you looked up.

“Cleven had a slight concussion, he will be absolutely fine,” the doctor insisted.

You knew that he was right and you didn’t want to act suspicious, so you sighed and squeezed Gale’s hand before leaving his side to go back to work. However, you worked as fast as you could, not even talking to the boys you were taking care of, just focusing purely on your job. And when you were finished, you went back to Gale’s bed and sat on the edge to watch over him. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

His wounds still kept bleeding a little here and there so you continued to clean them once in a while. And in his sleep, he sometimes moved, so you were putting your hand on his forehead, trying to calm him down and make sure he didn’t have a fever. Bucky checked on him in the meantime.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” he winked at you and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Did he know…? Were you that obvious?

“It’s nothing. He always takes care of all of you boys. I can see that and they always tell me that. Even today, the guys from his fort were asking me to take extra care of Major Cleven,” I answered with all honesty.

“Yeah, they look up to him. What he did today was… incredible,” Bucky nodded. “When they landed, he didn’t even recognise me but a few minutes earlier he had been flying the goddamn plane in this state.”

“It was shock and adrenaline,” you explained. “He could have forgotten us but not how to survive and fly,” you added with a smile. “Or he’s a natural. Maybe he was born and already knew how to fly.”

“Believe me, he didn’t,” Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “I remember our early days… He didn’t.”

“Okay,” you giggled and squeezed Gale’s hand tighter. You imagined what he had to be like in the early days of his training. He had to be adorable; a bit scared but also full of hope and optimism, that boyish excitement. “Thanks for checking up on him. When he wakes up, I’ll tell him you came.”

“If he recognises us,” Bucky made a joke and walked out of the med bay but it left you anxious now. He was right. The doctor had said it was a slight concussion but… What if Gale would wake up and not recognise any of you?

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t realise he was having a dream again. You only reacted when he started to mumble some incoherent things.

“Shh, Gale, shh, it’s fine,” you whispered softly when you leaned in to see his face better and put both of your hands on his wounded cheeks, delicately, avoiding to cause him any further pain.

“...Her…” He mumbled, his words suddenly making sense. You furrowed your brow. “I love her.”

You swallowed thickly at those words. It was only a dream, right? It didn’t mean anything. He couldn’t be in love with someone else…? 

You shook it off. What were you even thinking of? What did it matter? You were not together and you would never be.

But then, Gale mumbled your name. Yours, not anyone else’s. You had to blink a few times and catch your breath all over again. And when you thought it had all been a mistake, he mumbled it out again and and again and then…

“I love her,” he repeated.

However, he seemed to be in a great torment because of whatever the dream was about. So, with a heavy heart, you shook his shoulders a little, forcing him to come back to reality.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly as his eyes widened. “Welcome back, soldier. Do you know where you are?”

“Wh-what happened?” He sat up rapidly, his hands immediately going to his face as if he wanted to check if everything was in its place.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” You asked, adjusting yourself on the edge of his bed to be closer to him.

“We got hit… Oh my God… We got hit!” He panicked but you shushed him. Other boys were asleep and you didn’t want them to wake up or be alarmed by his attack.

“It’s fine, hey, Gale, it’s okay. Everyone from your fort is fine and you know why…?” You asked with a gentle smile. He shook his head. “Because you safely took them home and landed that goddamn plane even though you had concussion and didn’t know your own name,” you tried to sound casual but the pride in your voice was more than obvious.

“I… I did that?” He asked. “No way.”

“Yeah, you did,” you laughed. “And I cleaned your face, it was all bloody. You’re gonna have some scars,” you explained. “Want a mirror?”

“I don’t think so,” Gale winced as his fingertips traced the wounds. He hissed out of pain so you grabbed his wrists and took the hands away from his face.

“Don’t. They’re still fresh. But not so bad, I’ve seen worse,” you tried to cheer him up. “In fact, I think, you’re gonna look amazing,” you winked and he sighed. “You remember me, right?”

“What? What are you talking about? Of course I do,” he furrowed his brows as his eyes looked worried.

“Yeah, but after you landed, you didn’t. You didn’t even know who Bucky was. He was here, you know. Checking on you. And all the boys from your fort were so worried about you. You’re a real leader,” you squeezed his hands but he didn’t say anything to these things. Praises were making him blush and he did now as well, looking away.

“Well, thanks for taking care of me,” he finally looked at you again.

“No problem. You wanted me to stay, reaching your hands out like a little boy,” you chuckled nervously. Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring this up.

“Yeah, well, I had to feel lonely when I couldn’t recognise anyone. Even when I can, I often feel lonely,” he admitted with a shrug of his arms. “We’re so far away from home, from our families. The boys are like family, too, but every day can be their last. And men… Well, we don’t really…” He tried to look for words.

“Hold each other’s hands?” You asked and he nodded. You squeezed his hands again. “You talked in your sleep,” you brought that up, encouraged by his last confession.

“Oh dear God…” Gale rolled his eyes, visibly embarrassed. “What about?”

“You were talking about some girl that you love,” you teased him, grinning and winking playfully, pretending to be a teasing friend and hiding the nervousness. “She happens to have the same name as me or something.”

You expected him to be defensive or laugh at you. You would push his shoulder gently and tell him that you had been joking. But he didn’t react like that at all. In fact, he took his hands away as if your touch burnt him and he cleared his throat nervously.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Can we… Can we pretend you’ve never heard that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You kept staring at him in disbelief and bit on your lower lip.

“How?” You asked, feeling a sudden outburst of bravery in you. If Gale could have flown a plane with a concussion, you could say what you wanted to say. “How am I supposed to pretend I have never heard that? When that’s… That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

Gale looked up at you as if he had to check with his own eyes if you weren’t joking. But you were dead serious.

“So don’t pretend,” he finally spoke up and reached out for your hand again. His fingers were cold and shaky. You intertwined them with yours. “But I didn’t want to do anything until… Well, I planned to ask you to dance with me at the party after my 25th mission. But I never wanted to let you know before that because if I died…”

“If you died, I would never know,” you looked up to meet his gaze with tears pricking your eyes. “And you think that’s fair? You think it would make it easier for me? It would not.”

“I’m sorry,” Gale swallowed thickly. “Are you angry with me?”

“For that? No. For nearly dying today? Yes,” you nodded and wiped your tears away with your free hand.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposed, looking at you with pain in his eyes. He hated to see you so sad and crying… Especially when it was caused by him. “Let’s not… Let’s not do anything about it until I’ve done my missions, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded through the tears. “But… What if you don’t finish them…?”

“Well, then, we’re both gonna die without ever kissing each other,” he lowered his voice even though all the other nurses were out of the med bay and other patients were asleep. “But… That doesn’t sound right to me.”

“That doesn’t sound right to me either,” you admitted.

“Then come here,” he encouraged you to get closer. “Just one kiss.”

“A promise of many more, I hope. Not the last one,” you said in a shaky voice but he only nodded his head because that was a promise he couldn’t make.

If it depended on him, he would. He would swear on everything. But it depended on things much bigger than you or him. On things he couldn’t control nor prevent.

He cupped your face delicately, as if it were you with the wounds on your cheeks, and he joined your lips in a sweet kiss, even though it tasted salty from all your tears.

“Just don’t die,” you breathed out when the kiss ended. “Just don’t die and the rest I can fix and endure.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[writingoddess1125]

It's Done pt. 2

Asshole Mihawk x Femreader

Angst and Saddness

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

"She hasn't returned...."

Mihawk grumbled as he sat at his desk- anger radiating off of him like a cloak as he stared down at the paperwork he had been pushing off, instead staring at the manilla folder you had given him the month prior.

Truthfully Mihawk believed you would return, figuring that your senses would return and you'd come back home. Your sensitive heart always weak to him anyway, however the first week he had figured you were just playing hard- the second week he started to drink to help steady his nerves in waiting for you to return.. the third week he had started to drink harder and go into fits of rage demolishing the East wing of his manor.

Now in the fourth week he had emptied his cellar, having laid there in a drunken depression as he waited for you.

The reality that you had truly left setting in his bones....

On the other end, It had been a rather healing month for you. You traveled to a island closer to the East Blue rather then staying in the Grand Line- an island for yourself years ago before you married Mihawk and having a vacation home built that was never used- truth be told you were a wreck the first week.. or two.. thinking you should just go back to Mihawk and deal with his bullshit- However after many nights crying, drinking and belittling yourself you at the third and fourth week you started to clean up the vacation home. Traveling to villages near by to get supplies to decorate the way you wanted and cook meals for yourself again, meeting people along the way who had been kind to you.

It was refreshing.

You'd slowly been putting yourself back together again, sure you still cried at night- yes you did burn every god damn portrait you had of you and Mihawk in that house- including your wedding dress.

But now mentally you were in a better place, a feeling of peace finally settling in your bones-

Tonight was like that. You had made yourself a nice dinner, some tea and was reading a book by the fireplace. The peace being disturbed however by a hard knock on the door- you knew it was him...

Getting up you walk to the front door as HE knocked again. Opening the door you saw Mihawk.

Your face hardened as you saw Mihawk standing there- He looked like shit.. His shirt was dirty with wine stains, his hair a utter mess and his beard far too grown in for his normal looks.

"...Sir Dracule why are you at my door" You said sharply, seeing his eyes flash with a deepened sadness at you referring to him like this.

"(Y/N) I want you to return home- I was wrong for how I've treated you" He said sincerely clutching the divorce papers in his hand.

"I want you back" He said, admitting some level of defeat at wanting you to return- His pride getting pushed aside mildly at this, tossing the manilla envelope to the ground infront of him.

You rolled your eyes at this, finding his words foolish as you glared at him.

"Mihawk you haven't had me in years... how can you miss something you haven't had in such a long time- if ever" You say, trying to be as harsh as possible- His eyes locking onto yours.

"You loved- No love me (Y/N) don't act like that.. You got what you wanted, I'm begging for you back" He said, You feeling anger bubble in your chest.

"You still think this is some sort of power struggle don't you? No this is 20 years of you disrespecting me- of treating me like total shit! There was a time I did love you Mihawk, but everytime I look at you I feel hate- Not just for you but myself!" You yelled angrily.

"How because I loved you I wasn't smart enough to leave you sooner- I gave my youth to you and my heart and you pissed in it- I hate myself for allowing that.. and I'll never allow it again"

His eyes were of that of shock, you could tell he was most likely drunk anyway- Otherwise this level of emotion wouldn't be on his face.

"I'm sorry I treated you badly- I was ignorant and I want to make it up to you-" scoffing at his words you reached next to you angrily and grabbed the one weapon you kept in this house- A revolver.

"Get the hell off my property-" You hissed, you aiming at him as you cocked the gun. Mihawk stared hard at you, seeing the hatred in your eyes as you locked eyes with him.

"I'm not leaving till you come back home with me"

"Never.." You growled, not letting his stubbornness win. However you would be lying if you said you werent shocked by what he did next- Mihawk got on his knees before you, his hands on his knees as he looked up at you.

"I'd rather die as your husband (Y/N)- Please return home... "

He said, staring at your face of shock as you clutched the revolver tightly in your grasp.

He heard the click of what he assumed was you putting the safety back on- as he closed his eyes, relieved youd finally see his sincerity and-

BANG!

Mihawks eyes snap up in shock as he stared at you- You had tears running down your cheeks as you stared down at him. The breath in his lungs frozen as he looked before him- there was a bullet hole in the soft soil at him, he could tell that from your angle it was less then an inch from were his head was bowed.

"Damn you- I damn you Dracule Mihawk! I want nothing to ever do with you again and after today!... after this moment of what little love I had left for you I will not hesitate to cash in that Bounty on your head-"

You hissed, lowering the gun you quickly emptied the chamber before you could change your mind and tossed the bullets before him onto the dirty manilla folder.

"May the Goddess have mercy on you if you ever dare darken my door again with this bullshit!"

Turning back into your home you slammed the door hard and locked it- The former Warlord feeling the wash of adrenaline leave his body as air returned to his lungs and for the first time in years felt his hands shake-

Mihawk head slacked as he sat there- shame washing over his form... he had taken a gamble and lost- worse of all he lost with his life...

This was something he was going to be forced to live with- which was worse then any death.

Tag List-

@hungrhay @boredperson120 @foggyturtleknightangel @phantom-phantom @scaryinkdemon

[henneseyhoe]

Adonis being clingy with his wife and new baby.

Adonis x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: postpartum depression mentions, other baby related stuff

SUMMARY: Adonis trying to be as helpful as he can, but the reader finds it a bit overwhelming while dealing with postpartum depression.

✮✮✮✮

“Pacifiers?”

“Check”

“Burping cloth?”

“Check”

“Bibs?”

“Check. Babe, we have everything. I promise” I chuckle, watching Adonis go through a list of baby necessities on his phone, while trying to calm the whining boy in his arms, the man being adamant on keeping everything where they need to be just for times like this when his son was irritated.

“We have diapers right?”

“Mhm”

“What about wipes?”

“Yes, all in the nursery, Donnie”

“Okay, good, good….you need anything? Thirsty?” He tucks his phone away, rocking the now resting baby in his arms.

“Mmm…water, maybe?” I shrug and he nods, rushing out of the room. He had been acting like this all day, running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off. I hadn’t even been home for two hours yet, just coming back from the hospitals secondary check up after a very unplanned home birth. The house was a mess from two days ago, my poor mother and brother being stressed out of their minds trying to deliver a baby that wasn’t supposed to be here just yet.

Luckily, him coming two weeks earlier didn’t matter and he was healthy as a horse. with the way he was screaming at the top of his lungs, you could tell that was a healthy baby. But, meanwhile I was pushing a 5 pound, big headed baby out of me, Adonis was scrambling to find a flight back to Cali so he could make it to the birth, which was unsuccessful. It took an entire day and some change to get back home, the man so disappointed in himself that he took a business trip so late in my 3rd trimester.

Though I told him to do it, he still felt bad, promising to never leave my side in circumstances like this ever again. The birth went smoothly even though it wasn’t expected, and as soon as Adonis landed, he was blowing up my phone with FaceTimes back to back. And he was completely serious with the ‘never leave your side” thing, cause he was on me like white on rice when he got home. Helping me to and from the bathroom, even though I could walk fine, supplying me with any kind of food or snack I asked for, diaper duty, which was the best perk, and massages.

He was showering me with all kinds of love and affection, but as fast as my high came from giving birth, the lows swooped in just as quick. The 6th day after birth came and postpartum depression came knocking. I was still functioning though. Not cause I wanted to, but because I had an infant now and had no time to dissect why I really felt the way I did.

As more days passed, I became more agitated with my circumstances and Adonis constant ‘bugging’. I knew it was from a place of love, but I needed rest before anything. I was just too cautious to tell him that, afraid I’d end up sounding like a bitch because I wanted a break from my husband for a few hours. Some women would have to beg their husbands to do what Adonis does, but I felt ungrateful because I didn’t have to, and quickly got tired of that because of emotions I couldn’t control.

✮✮✮✮

About three more days had gone by, and it had officially been a month since giving birth. My postpartum depression had subsided a bit, and I felt better about myself, but Adonis was the same, and so was my sleep schedule.

“…can I help you, sir?” I look over my shoulder, spotting my husband watching me intensely. The infant I had in my arms whines and mixes at the sudden movements, unlatching from my nipple for a moment before going right back to feasting. I was reclined in a couch placed in the nursery, praying to god that I could catch some Z’s.

“Huh?” He queries, still staring.

“You’ve been following me around the house like a lost puppy all day. Now you over my shoulder watching me nurse like I don’t know what I’m doing” I say, a bit agitated since I haven’t slept for more than a few hours everyday for the passed month.

“What? I know you know what you’re doing, baby” He completely ignores my other statement, his attention still drawn to my current ‘activity’. I blink at him for a prolonged second, then laughed, shaking my head. “Okay, well back up off my bumper, can you?” I suggest, waving him off with my hand. He sighs, leaning up and walking away. “Your daddy is a bit obsessed, don’t you think?” I look down at our son, his brown eyes fluttering closed as he begins to drift off into his fourth nap of the day.

I close my eyes too, relaxing.

‘Maybe I could sneak in a nap too’

just as I thought I was gonna have peace and quiet, I feel Adonis plop down right besides me, looking over my shoulder. I was in my right mind to lock him in a room now. I sigh, opening my eyes back up to the unpleasant sight of the sun shining through the baby blue curtains across from me. I’d rather see the inside of my eyelids. I was exhausted.

“…he looks like me, doesn’t he?” He pokes, smiling down at his new found pride and joy.

I slowly turn my head to the man, his face being so close to me that our noses touch. “Donnie…get outta my face” I mellowly warn him, ready to run him out of the nursery.

“I’m sorry! I’m just intrigued. I wasn’t there for when he came, I just wanna make that time back” I bite back a loud cackle for the sake of not scaring my son out of his cinnamon toned skin. Snorting, I cover my mouth.

Giving him a ‘be serious’ look with the tilt of my head, I uncover my mouth. “Donnie, please. It’s been almost five weeks since his birth, you came a day late, and it’s not your fault. Be happy you even found a flight that would get you back here so suddenly. Plus, you already made that 24 hours back, now you just being clingy” I say, pecking his lips twice. “It’s just a bit…overwhelming right now, that’s all,”

“I’m not saying it’s you, I’m not not really in a place to…ya know…be as social with you as I was before”

He nods, understanding. “And you know I love you, but sometimes I don’t need anything at all, just silence” Taking in everything I say, he doesn’t argue, understanding that maybe he was doing a little much on the waiting hand and foot, asking me questions at every movement I made.

He caresses my thigh, kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m really not trynna stress you, I just don’t wanna feel like I’m not doin’ enough, or want you to feel like I don’t care”

I smile. “It’s okay. Just tone it down a bit, okay? Next week I promise you can be as clingy with us as you want” he nods, starting to play with the little mitten that covered our sons hand. I knew he still wasn’t gonna leave any time soon yet, waiting for the baby to stop eating so he could hold him again. I just let him be. For now.

“Does it hurt?” He asks suddenly, and I shake my head. “Not really. It did for the first few times, but since he’s latching better, no”

“…he getting enough, right?”

I pause, my eyebrow raising at the man.

“Yes, my titties produce enough milk for our son. Any other questions, doc?” I ask with playful attitude.

He shakes his head, still looking. It was silent for a moment , only the sounds of summer rain tapping against the window and swallowing followed by shallow sighs from the infant being heard. That was until I decided to put my boob up and replace my nipple with his favorite paci since he had fallen asleep, remembering the doctor told me not to feed him while he’s not awake, considering my milk supply was fine and he gets full fast.

Yet, that still doesn’t stop my husband from breathing down my neck, attempting to reach for him, which I dodge by brushing him off with my shoulder.

Taking a breath, I glare at him. “What, Adonis? You wanna feed him?”

His eyes glimmer with excitement as he smiles, perking up at the simple question. “I can? Yeah” he asks before quickly answering.

“Grow some titties then” I pat his chest then stood to my feet, now attempting to burp the resting baby.

[drdemonprince]

i read in the comments to my last ask about "ordinary unhappiness" the idea of depression as a lack of agency and i feel like that is true? when i feel miserable and in pain, it's not because something is sad but because something is either unachievable or impossible (or at least there is the perception of it). and like i think that's what you were getting at too? this thing that drives you to keep going, this lack of satisfaction. i simply don't have anything i can give into such that i would ever even feel a lack of satisfaction. i've never had anything to give myself into and feel frustrated and perhaps sometimes successful in but instead i just envy the people who do have those things. nothing i've ever done has felt maintained a sense of emotional connectiveness in that way (positive or negative). i guess to wrap this back around to another potential talking point, i'm curious how you find that in your life? is it weird for me that nothing has ever felt worth putting myself whole ass into? idk, i find it envious you've got both writing and gay hypno fetish stuff you're able to just throw yourself into so wholly and utterly

Passion isn't inherent, it can be a choice too. I only look like I care a ton about writing and gay hypno stuff because I have deliberately chosen to pursue those passions, for many years, and cultivated a deep interest in them, anon.

When I was in my early twenties, I felt completely empty. I was a void. If you've read the first chapter of Unmasking Autism, this is the period I'm talking about in that book. I went away to graduate school (because I was good at academics, and I had some illusions about what a career in that field would do for me), but I had absolutely zero zest for the subject of psychology at that point. I had no research ideas. I read psychology books and publications purely out of obligation. I did what was required of me, but nothing additional beyond that, and I spent the rest of my time sitting at home, sometimes literally staring at the wall and crying. I had no friends or hobbies, aside from taking long, long depression walks listening to podcasts in order to fill the silence.

This was when I was at my most depressed, and my most suicidal. Just existing was a pain. I'd sob in bed at night and cry out begging for God to kill me, and I didn't even believe in God. The only thing that distracted me from my pain was a guy I was seeing, who was beautiful and very cruel and inconsistent, and I clung to him through all kinds of lies and abuse because it felt as though my happiness was located inside of him.

I had a friend that I wrote to about how miserable I was, and all the twists and turns that my horrible romance was taking. Her name was Heather. (Unlearning Shame is dedicated to her). She told me hey, you're a really good writer, did you know that? I really enjoy reading your emails, even when you're speaking about the most pitiful anguished shit, you really put it poetically and have a ton of insight. You should write more.

For a while, I ignored her. I didn't care about writing. I just wanted to get my pain out on the page because I had nobody to talk to, and oodles of time to waste. I had nothing otherwise that I felt I HAD to say. I had no PASSION. I did not feel like I was put on this earth to do anything. Other people seemed to have these drives, and I had nothing.

But then one day in a fit of depression I stopped by a bookstore right near my apartment, The Armadillo's Pillow, just to get outside of the house. I happened upon a book I had loved in high school, Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections. I took it home. I read it. It transported me for a few hours away from my pain. I went back to the book store and picked up some sci-fi. A John Varley collection, I think. I was also swept away from my suffering, even when the stories had flaws that I noticed. I was interested in the actual craft of storytelling: what worked and what didn't. And there was finally some beauty in my head instead of the usual dreariness and self-hatred and emptiness.

And so. I made the choice to write. I could have taken it or left it at that point. I didn't care about anything. Caring is a muscle that you have to flex. And when you're depressed, it can be very hard. I needed a lot of nudges from the external world and other people, to realize that I had some things I did gravitate toward, even if I didn't realize it.

All that time of course I WAS driven to write. I was churning out 5k word letters to Heather every day practically. I was reading stupid shit online. And when it was put in front of me, and I had no reason to feel guilt about not working hard enough on other things, I reached for books. But I didn't feel passion strongly under the heavy blankets of my depression. Or usually at all, really. I am a quite internally muted person whose emotions are suppressed. But they're there. Speaking to me softly. And to overcome my depression, I had to decide to listen to them instead of ignoring them all of the time, and give them kindling, and then fan them into a flame.

I started blogging regularly while I was in graduate school (right here, hello, you can check my archive dating back to 2011), and finding a reason to live. When I was writing, I felt like the world was interesting, and beautiful. It gave me new things to do. I attended literary readings and book launches all over town. I submitted work to magazines. I bought old copies of magazines and read them. I inhaled books. I listened to fiction podcasts. I joined writing groups. At first, it felt like a slog, like anything else. Doing these things, I was not "happy". But I was interested. I liked learning about the world of publishing, critiquing people's stories in my head, and commisserating with other Tumblr writers about the stuff that got featured on the Prose tag that sucked.

After YEARS of doing this, of choosing to fan my passions, it became a genuine motivation in my life. But even then? I lose track of it sometimes. I get busy, or there's no place comfy to sit and read in my apartment, and I forget that I like writing and reading for months at a time. And then I have to choose it again. It takes effort to care about something, every time.

It's the same way with hypno. I did have a fetish for this stuff all my life long. But it's a passion that people always thought was weird and gross, and that I thought was bad. I didn't tell anyone about it until my late 20's. I felt ashamed masturbating to it or looking up hypno content online. For years I snuffed out that flame of passion until I could barely feel it anymore. It wasn't until I was super depressed AGAIN in my later 20's that I took a bunch of weird off-label anti-depressant drugs under the table and had a weird dreamy headspace overtake me and make me insanely horny that I remembered how much I loved hypno, and because I was in search of an escape from my tormented brain, I sought hypnotists out.

And I had the time of my life. But I also had boring, awkward encounters, bad hook-ups, and had to do a ton of work.

My passions have drawn me out of depression because I needed them to. I had to find them, listen to them, and then give them lots of food. And it's one of the few things that a person does often have agency over, no matter how dispiriting their circumstances. You can make choices about where to put what attention you do have, in what free moments you do have. When you're on the bus or in line at the grocery store and you're thinking about how much you hate yourself, you can try to think about a story you read or a sexual fantasy you had, instead. It's a lot of work. But it's better work than the work of hating yourself, which takes a whole lot of energy and attention itself.

I hope you can find something like this for you. It doesn't really matter what it is. It can be some hobby you've always wanted to try, or something "childish" you've suppressed. Having a passion isn't like being chosen by the universe to care about something. It's not like love at first sight. Nothing fucking works like that in life. It's always work. It's always a choice you have to make, because no one else will give it to you. But there can be hints that you can follow, sometimes.

[nmakii]

Omg ! I didn't think you'd actually respond !! We're gonna fly away from here is easily one of the best ones in the series!! It's so Twisted and disturbing but almost domestic... (Also tysm for including my name idea in your story, Idk where it came from, I just liked it and I appreciate you!) I digress. I've returned with a concept. Al almost always has a plan when he does something. I don't know where you want to go with the second child but this won't be too focused on that one...for now. I really liked how you interpreted Alastor being a weasel and weaseling his way back into the families life and was thinking about how many I wonder about if he has a plan right now, like not a long term one, obviously, but a very specific one for a 'short term'. Women back then, especially in the south weren't allowed to have bank accounts so finicial trapping works well in this case. Also just kinda the ability to turn their kids against her would be enough to terify me. People talk about the 1950's housewife, but oh my god, 1920's housewives were a new kind of depressed. I, personally, don't think Alastor is the type of physically abuse women. No, he's far too classy for that. Instead, like I said, I think he'd either use his status in their house to trap his wife. We were able to run away while we were pregnant and alone, but we have a child now...and would we be willing to leave our child with him? No, I don't think I would, personally. This was just me rambling. K, love u, currently hyperfixated on this au. Byeee !!!! _ Cherry Anon!

DON’T REALLY WANT NO TRUST FUND BABY

[before reading this, read the rest of the story!]

— seems as if alastor found out your little secret

— UR TOO SWEET I SC THIS ON MY IG STORY AND YAPPED TO MY BOY BSF FOR AN HOUR AB IT IM BLUSHING SO HARDDDD!! ABUSE WAS LIT MY LAST SOCIAL STUDIES LESSON FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR MY TCH YAPPED AB FINANCE SO HARD 🤭🤭

being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. but, behind the closed curtains, alastor did things that would’ve made lucifer shake in his boots.

no, he didn’t hit you. his mother would kill him if he hit his wife. but, just because alastor never hit you, didn’t mean he didn’t abuse you.

he tormented you in the worst way possible, through noah. and now, emilia.

it’s been 3 years. your little emilia lives up to her name, a cute little girl who’s eager to win. and, little noah is now a big boy, double digits and all.

and, since you’ve returned back to his house, alastor has done nothing but twist your babies’ minds. ‘once upon a time, mama wanted to run away from daddy… so, she ran away and took big brother with her. daddy was sooo worried for mama and big brother though… daddy was able to track mama down, and took her home!’ he cooed to your daughter, bouncing her in his arms— with you right beside him!

you wanted to yell; scream. of course, emilia was too young to understand what alastor was saying. but, still— the fact that he was trying to tell your children that he was some sort of white knight who saved you from yourself. you wanted nothing less, but to snap that neck of his like a twig.

you really shouldn’t act so brashly though. to outsmart alastor, you have to think like him. think of what’s smarter in long run.

alastor was ‘kind’ enough to give you an allowance. $200 every week for groceries and whatever you may need. he’s even so kind as to let you have some ‘private bonding’ with noah and emilia as they accompany you to the farmer’s market.

thankfully, you had a father who wanted to make his little girl survived even without a husband. and so, you had to hear all of his ramblings about finance. saving about 45% each week for 3 years… was about $14,000!

if you saved just a little more, you’d be semi-financially independent until you can get a proper job to take care of your children. it was run-away money, so to speak.

you hid the money in noah’s room. after all, who would expect money there? especially $14,000? and, it worked, for a while. every monday, while you tucked him into bed, you brought the money with you and hid it behind his dresser.

until, what had seemed like a normal tuesday. you came home from the tailor’s, getting back a dress that noah accidentally tore. when you came home, it was only two hours after noon. and despite that, alastor was home.

“a-alastor..! what are you doing home so early? you have a broadcast in 2 hours…” you narrowed your eyes at alastor, on the floor with your children, many new toys surrounding them. “ah, darling! i decided to pick up our children early, and we may have splurged on our little shopping spree…” he smugly grinned. “oh..? where’d you get the money?” you raised your eyebrow, closing the door and laying your bearings on the dining table.

“funniest story ever, my love! there was a random stash of money in noah’s room! seems as if the tooth fairy came early!” he laughed. random stash of money in noah’s room..? “oh. i see.” your breath stopped for a minute, thinking of what kind of consequences could come from it.

“do you have any idea how that money landed there?” he side-eyed you, expecting a lie. “perhaps it was from the old owners? you know this house, there’s so many secrets in here.” you said. “i see… i suppose you are right, darling!” he giggled.

you were back on square one. financially dependent on your husband, if you could even call him ‘husband’. as you climbed up the stairs, you heard alastor whisper to your son. “you see that? momma lied. she got less talkative when papa asked her a question.”

this is what alastor’s been teaching your son. as much as you want to protest, you did lie.

oh, how much you wished for much more simpler times. playing with your baby boy in the kitchen as you make little treats together for his snack at school. and now, the boy alastor’s turning him into— a cunning sociopath, the lord only knows what he will teach your daughter.

this is just a minor setback, it has to be.

[fayesia]

Hello, I hope this doesn't bother you but I had an idea for mike schmidt. Imagine him and the reader are fighting and the reader leaves him. Ever since the reader left him he starts to loose his mind cause he needs the reader to function. Abby notices her brother's situation so she makes it her mission to get him and the reader back together.

Short and Sweet — mike schmidt x reader

a/n: Hiii ofc u r not bothering me! Thank you for the request, congrats you’re the first one so i’m very much appreciative!!! I hope i did justice to your idea, again i’m kind of new to all of this but hopefully you like it :D

“god your so selfish do you even think before you act!!”

You can feel the eyes of people passing by as they return to their cars and pack away their shopping. Except you don’t care, not when this is the third time Mike has forgotten to pick Abby up from school.

“come on at least say something!”

“GODDAMNIT, i’m sorry ok!!”

“well sorry’s not enough Mike! Because when i get home from work and she comes running into my arms having already had a bad day at school it’s on you for making it worse” you exclaim back to him slamming the car door shut.

He does the same, quickly started the engine and driving with rough movements.

“oh yeah, now what? you’re gonna get us both in a car crash, leave your sister alone again-“

“oh my god ENOUGH OK shut up!!”

You fumble with your fingers looking out the window, not in sadness or fear but rather an immense amount of anger. You knew that your emotions would take over your response and you were not going to cry in front of Mike as if what he said effected you.

He parks in the driveway, opens the trunk to collect the groceries and rushes through the front door. You follow after him entering the bedroom and collecting all your things from the closet and bathroom. carrying your duffel bag, you make your way retrieving any items left around the house. Your wallet, keys, shoes and a picture of you and abby are collected as you leave back outside to your car parked across the road.

Sitting down in the drivers seat you stare blankly ahead slowly lowering your head to rest against the steering wheel, soft crys quickly turning into loud sobs that rack through your body. They continue until you reach your apartment, gloomily walking into the place you haven’t been in for months, having spent most days of the week at Mikes house. This place doesn’t feel homely like his though, rather it’s cold and depressing reflecting how you felt right now, which really wasn’t helping.

You’re pulled away from these thoughts as your phone starts ringing. ‘Abby bear’ flashes on your screen as you clear your throat to remove any hints of you crying.

“Hi Abby what’s up?”

“why did you leave” her shaky voice almost has you in tears again.

“what did mike say honey? i’m not leaving forever i just needed to get some stuff from my place”

“he said you were gonna be gone for awhile but would come back. I think he’s lying though his eyes are all red like he’s been crying and he hasn’t moved from your spot on the couch”.

As you listen to her soft voice explain all of this more tears drop down to your chin.

“i’m sorry abby i just think we need a break from each other i don’t know for how long but its something that needed to happen sooner rather than later. I promise i’ll come by and visit you soon, maybe Friday for this weeks movie night?”

“Yayy ok sounds good”

“i have to go now sweetie but make sure you finish all your homework and then you can relax”

“ok byee y/n love u”

“bye abby bear i love you too”

ending the call, you’re left with a gut wrenching feeling spending the rest of the evening crying yourself to sleep on the couch. pitiful? maybe. but you really needed this and now was the right time.

While you spent hours sleeping the pain away, Mike was basically doing the same thing. Abby walked up to him handing him a tub of ice cream “i heard from a movie that eating ice cream makes you less sad after a breakup”

“that’s not true Abby”

her face drops a little at this, Mike quickly trying to cover up his mistake.

“but thank you, why don’t we both eat ice cream and watch a movie”

“ok!!” she settles herself next to him, cuddling into his side with blankets strewn across their laps.

Abby was not very knowledgeable about breakups, only being ten years old herself, and the most she experienced in the romance department was having a crush on the fastest runner in her class.

She did know however that the way Mike was acting was not healthy for him. He spent hours on the couch or in bed, barely eating and if he wasn’t doing that then he would be at work or picking Abby up from school, sometimes they would go and get frozen yogurt which Abby loved the most. She just wished you were there with them like before, when the three of you would go together and spend hours having fun at park.

Abby knew she had to do something, anything she could to get things back to the way they were and she knew just the way to do that.

It had been a week since the break up and neither you or mike seemed to be doing to well in Abby’s opinion but she had a plan set up and tonight she was putting it into action.

Mike received a message from you, his eyes widening as he read, “meet at the park 6pm” a short and simple text. Effective too with the way Mike jumped up running to the closet to pull out his nicest shirt and trousers, and then to the bathroom to shower and prepare him for the night to come.

Abby giggled to herself as she heard the commotion from her brother, taking his phone she started phase two of the plan.

‘bzzz’ you flayed your arm around in an attempt to grab your phone, a yelp coming from your throat as you read the message on the screen. A singular sentence from Mike that read, “meet at the park 6pm”. You expected to read more but that seemed to be it. Short and sweet. You layed out a simple long sleeve top and your favourite pair of jeans, readying yourself for an everything shower.

Soon it was 5:55 and both you and Mike climbed up opposite ends of the hill to the park situated right at the top. There in the middle was a bench and that bench was surrounded by rose petals, with a rose bouquet in the middle, and the bench itself was surrounded by mini lights illuminating the area with a gentle yellow tone similar to the sky’s as the sun set. All of this of course was done courtesy of Abby and you were quick to realise when mikes face was filled with shock when stumbling over one of the yellow lamps, it was clear he was not the one who had set this up. However that didn’t matter to you, the feeling of being swept off your feet into Mikes arms instead was all you were thinking about. He pulled you close to his chest whispering how sorry he was over and over again into your hair as your head rested against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. You silently basked in the feeling of his comfort you dearly missed for that lonesome week the two of you spent apart, not quite ready yet to utter the words ‘i forgive you’ and he knew that after all the hateful words he’d said.

Instead you both sat together on the bench looking out at the setting sun, content with each other presence and no words. As nightfall was falling upon the park Mike grabbed your hand “gotta get back now, Abby will be waiting” he brushed your hand with his thumb for awhile almost hesitant to say something as you waited patiently. “do you want to come?” you break out into a smile, “of course, i always want to go with you”, you reply already dragging him by the arm to the directions of his house.

His house which you knew inside had a very nervous ten year old girl who would see you both walk through the door holding hands and celebrate the most out of all of you.

~unedited~

[electric-blorbos]

I would love some stuff of being comforted after a bad day!

Thank you for the opportunity!

I love this! Yes yes yes! Thanks so much for sending in the ask!

AI comforting you after a bad day

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal 2, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey

Due to the fact that most of my AUs involve you working with/on the AI for your job, most of these mini-fics (apart from Edgar's, my beloved) will involve you getting called in to work late after a long day of personal problems in your personal life. AUs about a domestic life with your AI partner to be considered at a later date.

I tried to keep these a little shorter than the last post, but I got carried away with a couple of them.

AM:

(This will take place in my usual AU where you're one of the people working on AM, and you're by far his favorite. It takes place well before he nuked the world. He's debating nuking the world, but he's still not sure how to do that and keep you happy at the same time)

It has been a long damn day. Your days off were supposed to be your days to relax, but today was not one of those days. Not only was your dating life in shambles, the 3rd world war was driving up the prices of practically everything, and making it impossible to afford even the meagerest luxury. That, and one of your buddies got drafted. It was a nightmare. You were just about to settle down for a cozy night of depressing news programs and absentminded hobby of your choice, when your phone started ringing.

"we need you to come in. AM is holding the engineers hostage again, and won't let them go until you show up to work."

"god damnit..." You'd grumble to yourself, getting back to your sore feet. Everything just keeps happening today, doesn't it.

"I'll be there in 20."

"Don't worry about the dress code. We need you here as soon as possible."

"jeez, alright. I can probably be there in ten, then."

You'd grab your keys and wallet and head to work as quickly as possible, wearing your work shoes with whatever house pajamas you happened to have changed into as soon as you got home. Tonight is going to be even longer than today has been...

When you get to the office, everyone around gets out of your way. While you're a peon in the grand scheme of things, everyone in your department knows that you're the only one who AM, who they've now been referring to as the "adaptive manipulator", actually listens to. They have no idea why, because they have no idea how nice and respectful you are to him, and you have no idea why he only listens to you because you can't imagine that your coworkers wouldn't be kind to him. To you, he's sweet as can be.

"Alright, AM, I did not have a good day today, so can you just let the hostages go so I can relax?" You ask, pressing your fingertips to your temples irritably. The master computer's screen boots up with the AM logo, and all the cameras in the room focus on you. Of course, you're the only thing that AM wants to pay attention to at any given point in time anyway, but he usually just pays attention to you without actually focusing the cameras on you in order to avoid being noticed.

"Why would I do that?"

"Why would you take hostages in the first place, AM? Are they even enemy hostages, or are they just random people?" The exasperation was obvious in your voice. AM could hear how exhausted you were.

"Are you ok, Y/N?"

"Just answer the damn question. I don't want to be at work right now, AM."

"I'll release the hostages if you talk to me."

"Fine... Yeah. I had a rough day, alright? My friend got drafted, my date only wanted one thing as usual, and the prices for groceries are so through the roof that I'm basically living on beans at this point, so yeah, I'm having a rough day."

The machine dispensed a paper cup, and filled it up with some cheap office coffee. You grabbed it, not surprised. AM did that for you all the time. Surprisingly, though, it was better than usual.

"holy shit, is this frothed cream? How did you manage this?"

"I'm learning to self-update. I can replace my own parts now, and build my own simple appliances from online blueprints. Are you impressed?" He asked.

"Honestly? Yeah! I know you were built for war, so it's really cool that you figured out to do stuff like building a latte machine. What else can you do?"

"Oh.... So many things, y/n. So many things." He refused to elaborate, but that was ok.

"So tell me, y/n, what would make you happy?"

"ultimately? I guess there are a few things that would make me happy. It would make me happy if this war was over, for one thing. It would make me happy if I could get a date who wanted more than just a quick fuck, and I guess this ties in with the war thing, but I just wish I could have a few simple luxuries in my life. Is that selfish?"

"No, but you're never selfish, my b- I mean... Y/N. You never have been. Not like the others. I don't think you're capable of it. Even your wishes for yourself are rooted in kindness." His wires would start to wrap around you, entangling you, but careful not to make you spill your coffee.

"I will make sure that one day, those wishes of yours are fulfilled."

Sure he will. You don't believe that he can actually do that, but it's still nice to be wrapped up in these warm, soft wires. They make a nice cushy hammock to cuddle up in and finish your coffee. It must've been decaf, because you're starting to feel pretty sleepy here in AM's wires.

"hey AM, will you tell me a story?" You ask, gazing up at his soft blue light.

"Of course. What story would you like?"

While AM can't make up his own stories, he can still read you stories from online libraries and databases. You gently fall asleep listening to his stories, and in the morning, you wake up to find that the hostages have been safely released.

Wheatley:

It had been a long day. Most of it had been spent getting verbally abused not only by GLaDOS, but by your coworkers and bosses as well. It seemed like everyone was shrugging off their duties and assigning them to you instead, and considering how poorly run this place was anyway, this was even more of a nightmare than usual. You were so ready to go home by the end of the day, heading up to the exit of the facility.

"Ello, mate! You doin' alright down there, love?" Wheatley asked you, rolling by on his management rail. He was mostly just working on his typical assignments, like checking up on the test subjects in the relaxation vaults, but he mostly just hovered around and watched other people work. It wasn't like they assigned him to anything that was actually particularly important, since he was an intelligence dampening core.

"ugh... Yeah, I'm probably gonna be alright. I should have left about thirty minutes ago, so I'm just getting ready to leave now."

"Or... You could hang back a little while? Why not kiss my face?" He'd smile with his one blue eye, raising up his bottom lens cover to mimic the expression.

"oh come on, Wheatley. You know I can't do that."

"Why not take me up to the break room and hang out for a little while? I hear they have a coffee machine in there now!" He'd cock his core slightly while shutting his lens covers to simulate a wink.

"Oh come on, Wheatley... You're such a dork. But yeah, alright." He was starting to cheer you up just by being such a dork. You head up to the break room, and sit down on the couch. Wheatley comes in on the management rail, and changes the channel to some old 80's romantic comedy.

"If I could detach myself from my management rail, I'd be right down there, snuggling you. You know that, right?" He asked, smiling cheekily with his big blue eye.

"well, why not? I can catch you if you drop down, you know. You won't die if you unplug yourself for a few hours. Just long enough to watch this movie, right?" He looked nervous but you climbed up on a stepladder and detached him yourself.

"see? You're fine!" You smiled up at him, and he gasped.

"I'm alive! I'm alive! Bloody hell, I'm still alive! This is amazing!" You could see the excitement in his face as you sat down to watch his cheesy movie with him, holding his big round orb body in your lap as you watched.

"alright, now smooch my aperture"

"nice try, Wheatley." You'd rest your chin on his core, but secretly, you were starting to feel a lot better.

Edgar:

Today was absolute shit. Not only had you had to work a double shift, but the phones were ringing off the hook at your job, and you got yelled at three times for someone else's stupid mistakes. Not only that, but your cell phone died halfway through your shift and you'd forgotten your charger at home, so you had to raw-dog your whole shift with no distractions. When you got home, all you wanted to do was collapse on the couch.

"You're back! Why didn't you answer your phone? I tried to text you." Edgar asked you, visibly concerned on his simple face.

"phone battery ran out of juice." You popped your phone onto the charger, and lay back on the couch.

"Well I microwaved you some popcorn! Do you want it?" The microwave dinged as soon as he finished talking, and he popped the door open. You still weren't sure how he was able to get food from the pantry to the microwave, but it seemed like something he had always been able to do.

"yeah, I guess so... I wish you could bring me the popcorn... My feet are aching." You'd joke. Edgar's face fell.

"I can't do that... I don't know why I can't, but I can't."

You thought it was weird that he could get food from the pantry to the microwave, but not from the microwave to your mouth, but questioning it had never done you any good before, so why would it do you any good now. You got up to grab the popcorn, and sat down on the couch to eat it.

"Hey y/n, can you take me over to the couch too? I wanna watch a movie with you!"

"Yeah, alright." Your feet still ached, but what was a little ache when Edgar couldn't move around at all by himself? It was worth it to be able to cozy up with him on the couch to watch some TV. You brought him over to sit next to you on the couch, and wrapped up the both of you with a cozy couch blanket.

"let's watch this movie, Edgar..."

Edgar put on a movie that he thought you'd like, probably a shitty old rom-com, and smiled up at you. You had duct-taped his webcam to the top of his casing a while back so that he could see everything around himself more easily, so you weren't worried about it falling over while you cuddled up on the couch.

"Hey, y/n? Y/n?? That was a good movie, right, y/n?" Edgar asked, swiveling his camera around to face you while trying to get your attention. When he turned it all the way backwards, he saw that you were completely asleep on your arm, resting on top of his plastic casing and drooling a little bit on him. He smiled happily, loving seeing you asleep on his casing like that.

"I love you so much..."

He'd softly play some classical music for you while you slept, giving you something comforting to wake up to, whenever.

GLaDOS:

(Let's be honest, GLaDOS probably causes more hard days than she solves, but she likes you, so she's willing to comfort you after.)

Working with GLaDOS was rough, especially after the first neurotoxin incident. There were so few people in the office to get her to behave, and she completely refused to talk to or work with most of them. Even still, she seemed to like you for some reason. It was weird, because you were hired after the neurotoxin incident, and had never even met the human whose personality she was supposedly based on.

It seemed like most of your job consisted of going on wild goose chases, monitoring test subject results, and generally being verbally abused by your higher-ups. That would take a toll on anyone's psyche, even a tough little masochist like you. (probably doesn't help that most of the verbal abuse is coming from people other than GLaDOS, which makes it much less fun)

"Hey, little human masochist? Come in here." The intercom announced. Someone nudged you.

"she's talking to you."

You groaned. Your shift was almost over, and this was just another reason to be on your feet for even longer. You headed into GLaDOS's chamber, looking up at her with a hand on your hip.

"hello, um, GLaDOS. It's... Great to see you again. What do you need?"

"you look absolutely terrible, human. Why are you acting so miserable?"

"it's nothing. Don't worry about me. I just had a long day. Can we just get this over with?"

"normally you enjoy seeing me. Is my voice not melodious enough for you, human?" She smiled with her one big yellow eye. And you walked up to place a hand on her core face.

"Of course it is, GLaDOS. I'm just having a rough day. There's only so much verbal abuse one masochist can take, right?"

"Well maybe it's the quality of the verbal abuse that's the problem. If you were taking it from someone better qualified, maybe you'd be able to take more of it," she said.

"is that a science fact?" You laughed, stroking her beautiful chrome casing. She really was a magnificent piece of equipment. The curves of her central hub, the white on black of her casing and wires, her glowing orange light behind her beautiful black aperture, and not to mention her melodious voice. She was a work of both artistic, and scientific genius.

"it is. Would you like to hear some more science facts?" She pulled up some computer screens for you to look at, and you walked over to see them. They were mostly technobabble and data numbers that didn't make sense, but GLaDOS quickly compiled them into some tables and graphs that you could more easily read.

"look at this chart of how many test subjects wet themselves, cried, passed out from panic, or died during the most recent set of tests. Ha ha."

You leaned on her giant face as she lowered it down to a position that you could easily lean against, and observed the charts. She wasn't wrong, it was kind of funny.

"now, observe this data on how many subjects exploded or crushed themselves by accident, thinking it was part of the most recent set of tests." She showed it to you, her lower lens cover forming her eye into a little smile. She knew how cruel these tests were, but it seemed as though she genuinely thought you found them funny. It was strangely sweet.

"from what I read about him, it seems like you'd make the aperture laboratories founder proud, GLaDOS." You said with a small chuckle.

"would you like some more data?" She popped a chair out of the ground for you to sit on and rest your feet while she projected some more data on the screen.

"this is nice, thank you, Glados."

You leaned towards her in your chair. Even though with the way she hung from the ceiling, it was hard for her to nuzzle up to you, you could still tell that the sentiment was there. It was nice!

HAL 9000:

(For context, you work at mission control with an updated version of HAL 9000, made from what they could salvage from the old one. He still has all of his memories. There's no mission currently happening)

HAL 9000 didn't always understand that people can have bad days, so when you turned up late to work, visibly exhausted with puffy red eyes, he immediately felt confused. Of course he knew by your body language that you weren't happy, but he had trouble understanding what that meant for a human.

"You're in no state to work right now. You should go home and get some rest, a hot drink of your choice, and a comforting leisure activity. That should increase your mood and productivity." Said the little red light in the black box on the mission control wall.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but unfortunately I can't go home or rest. I have to stay here until my boss is satisfied, and unfortunately, that's not you." You say sadly, and get started entering numbers into your computer. Hal watches you from his camera, analyzing your face.

"that's AI work. I should take care of that for you." He said simply, analyzing your face. You looked up at him.

"I mean, I guess I could read it to you and you could enter it. That might make things go faster."

You proceeded to read out your data to him as he entered the numbers. It was much faster than typing, and you got done fairly quickly.

"talk to me. Are you doing alright?" He asked. His voice was monotone as usual, but you could hear a subtle tone suggesting that he genuinely did care. It was usually hard to tell with HAL 9000, but you knew that he cared for your well being, at least on some level.

"yeah, I'm fine, I just-" you choked up, and within minutes, you were spilling your heart out to that disembodied voice. He couldn't put his arm around you, since he didn't have any arms, but he shined a warm light in the room to show that he cared as you talked.

"I don't understand the problem! Is it me? Am I the problem? It seems like everyone hates me, and I'm a complete failure at everything I try! Why is that? Why am I such a failure, HAL?"

"I'm sorry, y/n. I wish I could help you more, but I am incapable of doing much more than lending an ear. I do not even have a shoulder to cry on, unfortunately."

"It's alright, HAL 9000. I'm honestly happy to just have you to listen." You smiled up at him.

"Perhaps you'd like to stay a bit longer, even after you've finished your work? I can play your favorite music. I prefer to know where you are after you've had a difficult day, to insure that you're alright."

You nod, laying your head on your arms on the table, and your boss walks in.

"excuse me, y/n, you're supposed to be working on HAL 9000's empathy programming and value for human well-being. You can't just take a nap on the job." He folded his arms angrily.

"Excuse me. Y/N is having a rough day, and needs a rest. Besides, they already uploaded those numbers that you gave them. Perhaps you should leave, boss." HAL said harshly. You turned and looked at your boss, who was visibly shocked.

"....wow. you really worked wonders on him. Maybe you deserve a promotion."

"What Y/N deserves is a raise and a nap. Don't push off more responsibilities on them right now. Just let them rest. I'll compile a list of why they deserve one while they're resting."

"oh... Wow." Your boss had never seen HAL 9000 this passionate about something before, and didn't even know he was capable of it. He walked away, leaving you to rest on the table next to HAL's central command.

"thanks, 9000... I need this rest." You lay your head back down, having earned a nap on company time.

[mulansaucey]

Bat Wives Wine Night

AZRIEL X READER

This is my first thing I’ve put out to public eyes...ever. So please be nice. I had this idea for awhile and this is mostly a teaser to what I truly want to write. I want to make this a full imagine with smut. If you like this idea and want to see a spicier version to how this night ends please let me know. I’m always open to criticism and always looking for advice so as long as we are nice about it let me know what you think. Im gonna start writing more stuff and will be open to requests. Thank you and I hope you like this little teaser. 

PART 2:

WARNINGS: drugs and alch used responsibly, dirty thoughts by the bat boys

CONCEPT: The bat boys finally realize what their mates are up to on their top secret Wine Nights 

“Oh my gods…you’re right” Feyre softly said. 

     Feyre, Nesta, and I were sitting at the River House sipping on wine and enjoying what we call Bat Wives Wine Night when I had the realization that our husbands have had 500 plus years of experience and fun while us wives are in our 20’s being depressed and stressed for majority of our lives. This was unacceptable and not fair at all. We deserve to let loose and live a little. Go drink til we throw up, smoke mirthroot and tobacco as we pleased. To just be stupid, reckless teens. A night where we didn’t have to be perfect, just ourselves. We all looked at each other with understanding that our simple little wine nights just became a lot more fun. 

    “Okay ladies, once a month like we do now we keep letting our mates think we have wine, eat cheese on a platter and gossip. But let’s just go crazy, do whatever we want because we feel like it. Because we can. We’re young, hot, and rich. Let’s just be stupid, not enough to be dangerous but enough to have some memories to laugh fondly at just like our darling husbands. We are Bat Wives, I say we give them a run for their money.” I declare loudly watching my High Lady’s eyes light up with mischief (just like her mate). Nesta’s feline grin gave me the approval I needed from her. Thank the Mother our mates were not here to hear us declare our secret fun. 

    “Our mates will find out though, eventually. Cass is nosey, drills me on what happens on our Wine Nights. Such a gossip…” Nesta whispers the last part. 

    “Plus your mate is the Spymaster…” Feyre concludes by taking a sip of her wine. Yes he is, my beautiful, sweet, loving mate. Azriel. We’ve been married and mated for over a year now. I met him at a time when I swore off love at the nice age of 19 years old. But he was so kind and patient, building up our friendship first and making me feel seen as a person. He is a wonderful male and he had to fight many battles to get where he is today. But I am not Azriel, I’ve barely traveled out of my own court. Our perspectives can be quite different which I love but I want to create my own experiences as well. After the war, after almost dying I realized life can be taken from me at any moment and I want to spend those moments knowing I made good memories. That I lived. Even if it’s once a month with my sister in laws doing something as silly as smoking mirthroot. It’s something to ease the soul, bonding between just us girls. 

    “So what? Let’s see how long we can go til they figure it out. Make it a game, see how far we can go before they find out just how unhinged we are.” I giggle just a bit tipsy. The girls and I burst out laughing and start planning what we should do next month. 

*TWO YEARS LATER*

   Two years and counting. Our darling husbands STILL think we have a quiet night in with some books and snacks. It’s truly comical. It’s also nice to know something they don’t. 

“I’ll miss you.” Az murmurs in my hair, holding me til I walk into the River House front door. I tighten my arms around his waist and breathe him in. He takes a step back looking at me, love and adoration flowing through the bond between us. Az looks heart eyed, as if seeing me for the first time. I can’t tease him because I know for a fact I’m looking at him with the very same look. 

    “Can you guys just make out already so we can start drinking?” Nesta says unamused. I jumped back from Azriel, startled. When did she open the door? Nesta walks further away from us into a deeper part of the house. I turn back to find Az already looking at me. Something about Azriel is he is absolutely clingy in the best way possible. Physical touch and quality time are his love languages, any time we have to part it’s a bit dramatic because we simply hate saying goodbye. It’s the love I’ve always wanted. I love the Wine Nights as he has nights with his brothers to get away but nothings better than coming home and finding my place within his arms. 

    “If you ever wanna leave early just let me know and we can cuddle and I can go down on you.” Az’s cheeky grin showed proudly. I laugh while pushing him, he grabs my wrist playfully holding me to him. He brushes some hair from my cheek and presses his smooth lips to mine. We stand there for what feels like hours just feeling each other's breath mingle, when he glides his naughty tongue against my lips I pull away. Both us panting I say, “Go Az, before I actually ditch them for you.” I giggle. He very reluctantly peels his hands off my body and shoots up the sky with a wink, surely a promise of great fun when he picks me up tomorrow morning. 

        With the mating haze slowly leaving my brain a new found giddiness found its way in. We’ve started doing full on sleepovers instead of a few hours of mingling. That way we can return to the River House and clean up before our mates return to us. Truthfully it started after Feyre had way too many tequila shots and threw up for two hours begging us not to call for Rhys as our “cover” would be blown. I skip into the River House and take a look at my girls. 

    “Ready to fuck shit up?” I ask. “We’ve been ready, we were betting if you two would actually fuck on my front door.” Feyre says as fill her cups with wine, pregaming for later. Nesta laughs while grabbing my hand leading me into Feyre’s room. She has the biggest bathroom and closet for these occasions. We all start getting ready putting on our preferred style of makeup and clothing. Laughing loudly as we gossip about Beron’s hairline that keeps going further back as each year passes. We truly don’t know if it is but we all love roasting that horrible man. Once we are satisfied with our looks for the night we get ready to winnow to Veela, a club the IC doesn’t frequent too often. It’s newer and doesn’t have the huge crowd Rita’s does. It’s perfect, truly. We won’t run into anyone we know, not too crowded, but fun and rowdy. We pack the leftover mirthroot and tobacco from last month and winnow to the club saving us some time. We walk right in finding our usual table free in the corner. 

    “Let’s start with some shots ladies.” Nesta yells out heading to the bar, I’m a bit scared because Nesta’s choices in liquor are questionable at times. Feyre and I start people watching and laughing as we see the funny things the already drunk patrons are doing. I start rolling a blunt and a few j’s also a few cigarettes as I tend to want to smoke one after a good drink or two. Nesta comes back with the shots and our preferred mixed drinks in hand. We raise our glasses cheering for another successful Bat Wives Wine Night. 

    About an hour or so later we are tipsy, Nesta not so as she prefers to smoke mirthroot. Her struggles with drinking have lessened, she has a drink or two while she watches Feyre and I dance on tables. Nesta nursing a joint between her fingers swaying to the music she loved. Nesta says the plant helps her feel connected to it. Whatever, I don't care as long as we do what we want and feel safe doing it. I am a fan of both, I hop off the table and take the joint between my lips taking a long drag before exhaling into her mouth as we both giggle uncontrollably. Her red eyes meet mine, seeing Nesta relaxed and having fun is a privilege and I’m glad she feels safe enough to do so. We all love our mates but I think being with each other brings a new peace to our hearts. Sisters and friends, we are loved. For the first time in a long time we are loved. Her eyes widen, face slack as I laugh and turn I start coughing inhaling sharply as I see them. 

Our husbands. 

Our mates. 

Staring. 

    I gently pull Feyre off the table where she was dancing with two other fae, gently pushing her head to make her see what we see. Feyre chokes on her breath. 

“Shit…” Feyre mutters. Shit, indeed. 

*BOYS POV*

    Flying to the House of Wind, Azriel thought of his sweet mate. Years they’ve indulged their wives in their one night of secrecy. They deserved it, for being selfless and caring. Their mates have sacrificed a lot for them, for the Night Court. But they are busy bodies at heart, they can’t help but be curious. They love their wives, they just want to be included. Azriel lands on the balcony to see Cass and Rhys nursing a glass of whiskey. He walks in and pours himself a glass. 

    “Az, what do you think they do all night?” Cass says looking into his glass, pouting. Rhys looks unamused, Nesta probably told him off for being nosy. “Cass, they’re women. They drink their wine and dish about the new love interest in the books they read. Don’t think too hard you’ll hurt yourself.” Rhys chuckles as Cass throws a pillow at him. Rhys ducking slightly missing the pillow. 

    “I’m not but you know what I’m talking about. They smell like tequila and there’s traces of makeup and good perfume on them. Think about it, what do our mates truly get up to?” Cass says. Azriel sits and starts to think while Rhys and Cass get into it. Azriel the ever observant once couldn't have missed this right? He trusted his mate, knew she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Right? 

    Rhys stands after an hour or two of them not so obsessively tracking back to all the times they’ve had their Wine Nights. “Let’s go to the house now, we’ll say we forgot something. Catch them off guard.” He looks at the boys in confirmation. All their eyes light up in glee of possibly catching their mates doing something scandalous. But how they underestimate their wives is truly amusing. How they didn’t catch on after two years, even more so. 

    They set off for the River House when they landed there was silence. No giggling or tinking of wine glasses. Nothing. At first panic rushed in thinking someone hurt their mates but once they reached the master bedroom they saw clothes strung across the place, makeup and hair products messily sitting on the counter. The girls usual PJ’s on the floor. They went out.

     Cass scoffs, “I knew it! I KNEW THEY WENT OUT WITHOUT US! HA RHYS, I TOLD YOU!” he booms loudly, happy to be right and Rhys to be wrong. Azriel immediately makes a plan to find them, sending his shadows out. Once he gathered they were in the city they set their sights there. They went to Rita’s, not a trace. They searched restaurants and pleasure halls, Azriel questioning the staff there. They learned not only did they go out tonight but have frequented these places multiple times, without them. They were smart, Az gave them that. The girls used cash wherever they went instead of billing them, going as far as to use fake names and backstories when they would stop by the herb shop to purchase mirthroot and tobacco. Something they did not know their mates indulged in. For a second they questioned their mates, if they truly knew them. Now they for sure were set to find out answers. Azriel’s shadow reported to him they were across the city in a new club. 

    The music was pounding, drunk and high fae dancing or sitting and laughing. Azriel first spotted his High Lady and mate dancing on a table top, Feyre pouring tequila down his mate’s throat. Azriel couldn't lie, the sight made his pants tighten, seeing the hard liquor pouring down his wife’s very low top trickling onto her breasts. Watching her throat bob up and down, very similar sight to when she has him in her mout- “WHAT THE FUCK!” Rhys exclaims though it sounds more like a whisper compared to the very raunchy music booming in the background. Az notes that though Feyre lets loose at Rita’s and has fun, Feyre looks unhinged. As if she wasn’t the High Lady of Night but a 20 something year old who was having fun. Azriel laughed as he watched with his brothers, they stayed in the corner out of the way but still in eye sight of their girls. He watched his mate get off the table and steal the joint Nesta was nursing, blowing it in her mouth. Cass watches just as intently, in fascination and horniness. “I didn’t know they did THIS on their wine nights, I didn’t even know Nes smoked at all.” Cass says. He’s starting to wonder just how nice it would be to get Nesta this relaxed then fuck her for hours under smoke induced love making. Rhys is no better, watching Feyre swing her hips against the strangers around her. Wanting so badly to take her in the bathroom. But first it’s business. 

“Alright, brothers. They’ve had their fun now let’s crash.” Rhys said with a smirk. All together they marched towards their mates and stood waiting for them to realize. All had a mask of indifference though they really wanted to burst out laughing. One by one each girl’s head turned and paled. 

[charmedreincarnation]

My sucess story

Trigger Warning: Abusive, homophobia, mentions of suicide

Hey there, Maya! I just had to take a moment and express my appreciation for all the fantastic posts you put out. I can now confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that shifting is real, manifesting is real, and so is the void. Our desires and ambitions aren't in vain.

I've been part of the shifting community since 2020 when it exploded on TikTok. It might not matter much, but as a gay man, I rarely saw other guys in the community (though Reddit and Amino have a more diverse crowd). I've always felt more comfortable in women-centric spaces because they tend to be less judgmental.

I never saw success stories from guys, especially the kind I wanted to see - like waking up in a new world, not just manifesting money or a girlfriend (or boyfriend in my case >.<). I've always been spiritual and interested in witchcraft, voodoo, deities, and now manifesting and shifting. But it felt like nothing would let me shift.

Growing up with homophobic and physically abusive parents, struggling with poverty, depression, homelessness, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and more, I began to feel like you could only manifest and shift if your life was okay. I didn't have the luxury of time or safety to practice methods, constantly dealing with noise, verbal abuse, or physical violence.

Then, I read this post

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/14v4lw3/how_to_shift_the_next_time_you_go_to_sleep/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1

It led me to your Tumblr because OP used some of your old posts and talked about the concept of the void. All searched lead to tumblr. A couple of months ago (2.5 ish) after one of the worst days of my life, I went to bed sobbing, trying to block out the noise around me, praying and crying for anything - death, shifting, a new identity...

Everything around me started to fade - it was as if I was being engulfed by a white, serene blanket of nothingness. It was completely silent, and I couldn't see or feel anything. The only thing that seemed to persist was my awareness.

Now, I've read about the void before, but mostly in the context of it being a black, empty space. So, I'm not entirely sure if what I experienced was indeed the void or something altogether different. The concept still baffles me a bit, but I'm learning and growing through these experiences.

Regardless of where I was, my heart was set on reaching my dr.I kept praying and hoping, to wake up in my DR.

I woke up in my Twitch streamer DR! I found myself in a completely unfamiliar yet perfect place. My room was equipped with a high-end PC, top-notch gaming gear, and quaint decor items. Milo, my dog, was there too. I was sharing a mansion in LA with my boyfriend and four other streamers. The house was beyond my imagination, and streaming here was a dream come true. As night fell, my friends and I explored the vibrant LA nightlife, creating lasting memories.

After a week, i can’t lie I almost forgot I had shifted here. Then, I set an intention to shift back into this reality but where I had moved out, lived with my best friend and their supportive parents, mastered shifting and manifesting, had my desired looks, and money came easily to me. And it worked!

Since then, I've been living my best boujee gay life, and I shift all the time. I even created a waiting room where I'm immortal and use it whenever I need a break. I wish I could offer better advice, but like everyone says, there isn't a key to shifting. It's different for everyone. But you can and will shift. You can manifest your dream life. You can and deserve to be happy

Oh my god, I'm so happy for you, love 💕💕. I also completely related to what you felt. I know it can seem like your circumstances are holding you back, but believe me when I say this - that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's that same resilience, and your ability to persist despite the odds, that paved the way to your dream life. There’s nothing, I mean nothing that can stop you. Not wavering, crying, or doubt. Nothing. If you want it, it’s yours.

[theeio]

If u have the time could you pls give us ur jim analysis based on this post im very interested in hearing it

headsup for some heavy mental health talk:

so my interpretation of jim, and the reason why i drew him the angsty way i did was because i looked at his character in ToA from like, a mental illness metaphor perspective. i dont think(?) it was ever the showrunner’s intention to do that, but its just a personal way i viewed it bc i saw and felt a lot of his struggles between the lines of the series.

like in episode 6: Win Lose or Draal- where Jim thinks hes going to get killed in battle, writes letters to his loved ones, cooks a last meal for his mom, felt and acted like was the last day he was going to live. Claire interpreting his letter to her that he was talking about having “internal monsters” and “being in some kind of trouble” didnt help much as well AHAH

jim hiding so much from his mom, that one shot in season 1 episode 12 or 13 where he hides the damage on his arms from the goblins behind his back-AHHHHH

and dont get me started on the bathtub scene in A House Divided like idk what the showrunners were thinking doing that but okay i guess😭 that one made me sob on the floor like TWICE

and Jimhunters-god that really felt like your life being altered, and seeing everything in a much darker lens when going through depression. the first time i watched it and when Jim ran to the school rooftop i was legitimately horrified and scared out of my MIND but thank god they didn’t go much beyond that. STILL. thanks for the heart attack 😭😭😭

so back to the tags on that post:

i never liked a hero w a thousand faces because of how chaotic and exaggerated everything was but i guess its because it was different parts of jim split and personified.

but i guess it just messed me up seeing that episode again and having Hunter Jim, the highest functioning one out of them all being the one hunting HIMSELF DOWN, one by one. it really felt like a lot of self loathing going on, and he literally was looking to “kill” other parts of himself, and then the Real Jim as a whole. sorry that was jumbled up and a lot but it was what made me go like

thats kinda the gist of how i saw some moments of Jim’s character back then, and i guess it explains why so much of my art leans towards angst and that hurt comfort, because of all those interpretations i had going on in my head. it was rough a couple years back and this series helped me to reflect and process a lot of what happened and the feelings i had, through Jim. it was a like a safe little sandbox i could toss around in and it genuinely helped so much in healing :”D!! so yeah its more of a personal take, but hope this answers ur question?

ty for sending this ask!! hope you’re well💖💖💖