#every time I talk about feeling lonely or disconnected or anything like that

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

I hate that the answer so often given when someone voices their loneliness is to “rely on yourself” or “be your own best friend” “start a hobby” or some other variation of loving yourself and keeping yourself busy, as if either of those are a substitute for connection and community. Yes they’re important, but they should be in addition to feeling connection in community, not as a replacement.

[forsworned]

No One Noticed ft. Hesh Walker

Synopsis: Feeling lonely and disconnected, you find solace in an online gaming forum where you meet Hesh, a war veteran who secretly works as an elite member of the Ghosts task force. Despite Hesh's initial tough exterior, he's soft for you and bonds through shared gaming experiences, late-night texts, and calls. Eager to bring their digital connection into the real world, You're convinced by your newfound virtual love to fly to his city to explore a potential relationship. Will your connection flourish or go to shit?

Warnings: Canon Game Violence, Canon Violence, Sexual Content, Phone Sex, Sexting, PnV sex, Cunninglingus, Blowjob, 9.8k words

Author's note: This song makes me so emotional and who better to write this for than my love, Hesh

If you could change anything, it would be your soul-sucking day job. Typing away at transcripts behind your desk is tedious, mind-numbing, and downright exhausting. You glance at the clock—it finally reads 4:30PM. A sigh of relief escapes you as you save your work and close the tab. The hum of your old office lamp and the clatter of your keyboard are the only sounds breaking the monotony. Your eyes ache from the screen's glare, and the cold air in the office makes the warmth of your couch even more inviting.

Ping!

The chat pop-up lights up your dim screen, and you feel a sudden rush of serotonin.

MyDawgRiley99: Your day been as shitty as mine?

A soft laugh escapes you as you read his message. Since joining a gaming lobby with a group of military guys during a late-night Fortnite session, you've found yourself playing with them almost every time they invite you. You never really pried into their daily lives; you were just looking to unwind. And yet, some nights, one of them would linger after the others had logged off, not to play, but simply to talk and unwind.

And over time, you began to savor the sound of his voice, finding comfort in its deep, resonant tone. You bite your bottom lip before typing away at your keyboard:

CtrlFreak: Seems like we're both in the trenches today.

As you're about to close out the tab, his reply bubble immediately appears, and you feel your spirits lift.

MyDawgRiley99: Long day at the office?

You scoff, shaking your head. Maybe you’re sharing too much with someone you’ve only met online, but you think to yourself, If he's half as sexy as he sounds, it should be okay, right? Right??

CtrlFreak: Like you wouldn't believe. I'm two seconds away from losing it.

MyDawgRiley99: Well, let's try to fix that. Same time?

You glance at your stack of requests and exhale sharply. Falling behind on deadlines and getting chewed out by your boss isn't your idea of relaxation, but for one night, just one freakin' night...

CtrlFreak: I really shouldn't...

MyDawgRiley99: Just one match?

You snort softly. You know what that means. One match turns into five, with hours of talking in between while you sit in the lobby. Sometimes, others join, and it’s nothing but a constant roast session that leaves you craving more genuine human interaction. It’s a vicious cycle.

CtrlFreak: I'll think about it. MyDawgRiley99: Haha, I'll be waiting for ya.

You shut your laptop and press your forehead against the warm alloy. The constant burnout of your job leaves you unfocused, fatigued, and jittery from all the espresso shots you need just to stay awake.

But you decide to join anyway. He immediately joins your party the moment you load into the lobby.

"Almost thought you wouldn't hop on tonight." His voice comes through your headset, instantly relaxing you.

The corners of your lips curl into a smile. "What can I say? You've tempted me."

He chuckles, and it's flirty, light, fun, and easy. In this moment, you want nothing more than to relish the escapism that comes from the unknown soldier on the other side of your screen. Amidst your grueling workday, his voice is like a coolness that soothes your burning heart, pulling you from the depths of mundanity into a world where conversation flows as smoothly as his laughter.

You tap on your controller, trying to control the strange desire stirring within you. You have no idea what he looks like—or what any of them look like, really.

Truthfully, you never bothered to ask for names. You referred to each other by the first initial of your real names. His being 'H.'

"You wanna talk about it?" The sound of him munching on chips comes through the speaker, causing you both to laugh. "My bad."

"All good. Nah, I'm just burned out." You readjust yourself on your sofa and lean back against the cushion, closing your eyes as you savor the sound of his smooth tenor.

"I get that. Trust me."

You feel that smile returning. "Right, right."

"Well," he begins, playfully defensive at your casual dismissal. "I'm just sayin'—"

Your laughter echoes through the headset, and he sighs, the smile on his face growing at your teasing. "Always gettin’ me worked up."

"You fall for it every time." You retort. Your mirth fades, and it's quiet for a moment. You tap at your controller again, playing with the joystick as your heart begins to race. There's almost a need to ask him to reveal himself to you. After all those nights dreaming about him, you find yourself yearning to know what he looks like.

"So," he clears his throat, shaking you out of your mild daze. "um, I don't want you to feel like you have to, but..."

You sit up a bit, feeling your throat go dry at his sudden change in tone. You can literally feel the tension through the connection.

"Well, I'm just kind of curious about, you know," his voice holds hesitation, an eagerness to pry. It creates a charged silence between you. The playful teasing shifts into something more earnest, and you can almost hear the curiosity in his tone as he tries to find the right words.

"Uh huh," you playfully taunt. You can tell where this is going, and you can't help but feel exhilarated at the thought of finally knowing what he looks like.

He chuckles, and it sends a thrill up your spine. "Uhhhh," he awkwardly laughs again, and you join in. The smile on your lips stretches broadly across your face, making your cheeks sore.

"I mean, we've been talking on here for months, so I'm just curious about how you look, you know?" He sighs. "Aren't you?"

You giggle at the apprehensiveness in his voice. "Seems like it's been weighing on your mind."

"Something like that." He clears his throat. "Obviously, it can stay this way. No pressure."

You scratch your head, feeling trepidation seeping into your bones. It isn't a now-or-never moment. You could simply say no or maybe another time, but you feel this irresistible pull from him. You think that even if he isn't the most attractive guy, it's not the end of the world...

"Okay." You simply say.

"Really!?" He exclaims, and you laugh at his enthusiasm. It's endearing, really. It's the lack of a social life that's really doing it for you. You think that maybe if you started going on Hinge again, you wouldn't have this problem of getting emotionally attached to men in Fortnite lobbies. But all of that falls into the back of your mind as you return to the present.

You're a bit tentative, but the words naturally come out. "Sure, I'm curious too." You breathe out, fiddling with the wire of your headphones between your fingers. There are dents from the hours you’ve spent on your console, talking to him during the late hours of the night.

"Yeah?" The way he says it sends a thrill up your spine again. You just know this man is sexy. Dammit.

"Yeah." You reply, almost reluctantly, as you walk over to your desktop and pull up your Discord server. Your cursor hovers over the video chat button, but he pings himself in, and you reflexively close the tab.

"What the fuck?" He laughs, and you crumble at his reaction, hiding your face in your hands.

Your heart pounds as you feel warmth crawl into your cheeks. "I'm sorry!"

He's still laughing at your reaction. You can't tell if it's because he thinks it's funny how quickly you exited or if he finds you as endearing as you find him.

"Are you shy?" He asks, still chuckling. You swallow thickly, not wanting to answer immediately. It's been far too long since you've been in the dating scene, and you’ve forgotten the simple pleasure of face-to-face flirting, reading the micro-expressions of the person across from you. To you, it was like a game—analyzing the strain on their face when you talk about your interests instead of your kinks, the bounce of their thighs when you're not throwing back sexual banter, or the way you check to see if they bear their teeth at you when they smile. It was easier knowing he was just a voice, but now it seems like he's reeling you in for more, and you find yourself struggling to say no.

You didn't want to deal with the high highs and the low lows anymore. The boring simplicity of a quiet relationship is what you craved, but a military man? That's tumultuous, grueling even. You didn't want to go back to nights of crying yourself to sleep over a man who refused to take your calls or reply to your texts because of their emotional distance and lack of therapy. But you're craving attention, and he's so willing to give it to you.

You groan at his reaction. "Fine," you grumble as you open the chat again and nibble your lip, lingering over the tab that shows he's active.

"No pressure," he teases, a hint of mischief in his tone. It's daring, and you’re no coward. You click the tab, joining the video call, and your heart races as you wait for it to load, stripping off your headset.

And then there he is, swaying in his gaming chair, his face lighting up when you enter the call.

"Oh shit," he grins, and you cover your mouth to hide the joy in your expression because he's fucking hot. The grittiness of the webcam blurs his handsome features, but you can still make out the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his viridian eyes, and the darkness of his short-cropped hair. He strokes the stubble on his cheeks, not even bothering to hide his obvious attraction. He's brunette, rugged, and attractive enough to make you want to buy a lottery ticket because you can't believe your luck. "What's up, girl?”

You feel the color drain from your face at his tone, and you quickly wave in the most awkward fashion. He looks even more amused. You realize you're not used to being looked at this way by men, and your shyness catches him off guard. "What's the matter?"

You shake your head. "N-nothing," you stammer, fiddling with the wire again. The momentary distraction of your desk lamp is all that keeps you from looking at him directly.

"Come on, don't be shy now," he coos, smiling so widely that it almost makes you want to melt into your chair.

You stare at the small thumbnail of yourself on the screen, feeling somewhat more exposed than you're used to. After a few seconds, you finally allow yourself to look at him again.

"I don't know," you laugh. "I wasn't expecting you to look like that."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckles, and you catch a glimpse of his dimples. "What were you expecting, then?"

"An ogre," you joke.

He throws his head back, laughing. "Damn, you really had no faith in me." he jokes back, and you're both nervously giggling at your first video chat. It’s awkward in all the right ways. The tension between you increases, but it’s different now. The curtain of anonymity you both sought on this platform has been lifted.

You shake your head, still bashful from his handsomeness. It irritates you. One hot guy gives you attention, and you're falling to your knees.

"Not one bit." You tuck your lips into your mouth, and he leans his chin on his palm, admiring the details of your face. You're just not ready to admit your attraction yet. You’d rather let it linger in the air, maybe make him pine for your compliments.

There's another pause as the playful banter fades into a softer, more charged silence. The tension hangs in the air, neither of you quite sure what to say next. You chew your lip, still somewhat unsure of how you want this to go. But before you can overthink it, he speaks up again.

"So... maybe we could meet up sometime?" His voice is tentative, like he's not quite ready for your answer.

You blink, taken aback. "Oh, um," you bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension in your shoulders. "That sounds cool."

His smile widens, and there's something almost boyish in his excitement. "Yeah?"

You nod, giving him a shy smile. "Yeah."

"Alright then," he grins. "Let's see where this goes."

He sways in his chair again and grins. "So, did you wanna talk about it?"

And that’s the start of long conversations over the phone—your actual phone—after he asks for your number, and you coyly give it to him. More often than not, he's testing the limits of your humor with dark memes, sending you selfies and mirror pics in his uniform that you shamelessly drool over, and FaceTiming you during his night shifts to keep him company while you sprawl out on your bed.

In his downtime, he shamelessly fists at his dick at the mere thought of you. Those pretty lips on his leaking tip, licking up the precum that oozes out and coats the plushness of your flesh. He wonders how you taste, what makes you moan, because at this point it’s obvious you’re both really into each other. Neither of you wants to break the ice—you simply enjoy the flirting and the cutesy banter. He loves the way you giggle at his stupid jokes and how you seem to show a little more skin the more calls you have.

Like when you get up from your seat, and instead of wearing your usual sweats, you’re now sporting a pair of curve-hugging plaid shorts and a flimsy tank top with straps that are always slipping off your shoulders. And it’s painfully obvious when he flares his nose playfully at you and glances away. Maybe there’s a subtle gesture of him adjusting himself, and you throw your head back, not bothering to hide the delight in your laughter.

"You know what you're doing," he quips, drumming his fingers on his work table.

You lean back in your chair and fiddle with the squishy cactus stress toy, stretching out the arms and letting them go with a pop. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," you chime with a giggle.

His eyes fall on your braless figure, cleavage spilling out of the V-shaped collar, tracing the outline of your nipples that peak through the sheer fabric.

"Yes, you do," he insists, gripping the hem of his compression shorts as they strain against his throbbing dick.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye. "And what's that?"

He doesn’t miss a beat. "Being a sexy little vixen." His eyes roam your body again, and you hide your burning face. God, his directness was always so sexy to you. He never bothered to hide the way he felt. Especially when he would heart every selfie you sent him, throwing praises your way like you were the only woman in the world.

"You're not foolin’ me," he presses on, grabbing his planner and clicking his pen as he begins to jot something down.

Your curiosity piques. "What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" He provocatively glances up at you. "I’m writing down the dates that I’m off."

"For?"

"When I meet you."

Your eyes widen at his boldness, and a shy smile graces your lips. "Meet me?" Your heart picks up its rhythm, and you’re trying your hardest not to get too giddy about it.

He taps his metal pen against the paper, leans back in his chair, and licks his lips. "Is that a problem?"

You hadn’t expected him to be so forward about meeting you. Fuck, he looks so damn edible when he manspreads, looking nonchalant and relaxed. He can sense your yearning but also your hesitation.

He leans forward again, sincerity coming easy to him. "Look," he begins, wanting to comfort you, to assure you he won’t take advantage of you, but he knows it’s a privilege to be in your presence.

"I know you’ve probably heard this a million times: 'You won’t get hurt, you can trust me.' And I know it’s an absolute luxury to even exist alongside you."

That makes you blush. It’s so easy to tell that he was raised right.

"But this," he gestures between the two of you, "I want to know if it’s real. There’s only so much I can tell from behind a screen."

You understand what he means. The essence of a person—their aura, their charisma—is so much more tangible and real when you meet them in person. Seeing their quirks, their habits, feeling their energy. It’s different.

"I know you know what I mean."

You nod. "I do." You lick your lips, searching for the right response. There’s really no doubt in your mind that you want to meet him. I mean, for God's sake, he's mouthwatering. The way his abs peek out from under his loose shirt when he stretches, the playful way he flexes his taut biceps, his calloused hands hardened from war and long hours at the gym. He's just delectable all around.

But are you willing to take the leap?

Somehow, you're still asking yourself that as you peer out the window of the airplane. Your ticket is paid for—first class, with all the accommodations…it’s like a dream.

The landscape below is a patchwork of rebuilt cities and scarred land, signs of a world that has been through hell but is clawing its way back.You can’t help but wonder if this is a glimpse into the future you’re stepping into. A life beyond the screen, in a world where the remnants of war are slowly being overtaken by new growth, where hope is becoming tangible again.

The plane touches down smoothly on a newly restored runway, and as you step into the terminal, you’re greeted by the sight of soldiers, workers, and civilians mingling in a place that once might have been a warzone. Your heart races with anticipation, nervousness, and a hint of something deeper. This isn’t just about meeting him—it’s about stepping into a world that both of you are trying to find your place in.

He’s waiting for you just outside the baggage claim, leaning casually against a pillar. The grittiness of the webcam is replaced by the crisp reality of his presence. The sharpness of his jawline, the vividness of his eyes, and the way his uniform fits him perfectly—it all hits you at once. You realize that you weren’t fully prepared for how striking he’d be in person.

The moment stretches between you, just like it did during your video calls, but now there’s no screen to hide behind. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if he’s trying to memorize you all over again. And then, with a grin that sends a shiver down your spine, he steps forward.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lower and more resonant in person, sending a thrill through you.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your cool, but the way your voice trembles gives you away.

His grin widens, and he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch is electric, sending sparks through your body. He notices the way you react and chuckles softly, not even trying to hide his satisfaction.

“You’re just as pretty as I imagined,” he says, his bluntness making your cheeks heat up.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you manage to tease, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He laughs, a sound that’s warm and genuine, and it eases some of the tension between you. He leans into you, enveloping you into a warm embrace and you easily return it as you snake your arms around his neck. The smell of his aftershave engulfs your senses and you relax into his touch. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, withdrawing from you to grab your bag effortlessly as he leads you toward the exit.

Outside, the air is fresher than you expected, a sign that nature is beginning to reclaim the earth. The city around you is a mix of new constructions and old ruins. It’s almost nothing like the California you remember. He leads you to a sleek, black SUV and opens the passenger door for you.

As you settle into your seat, you glance at him as he climbs in, feeling a mix of emotions. This is the man you’ve spent hours talking to, flirting with, and getting to know through a screen. Now he’s here, real and tangible, and the chemistry between you is undeniable.

He catches you staring and smirks, reaching over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You alright?” he asks, his voice soft but with an edge of excitement.

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yeah,” you nervously avert your gaze and nod. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Hesh nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “So, here’s the plan,” He hands you the aux cord. And you grin as you take it from him. “We’re gonna head back to the base,”

He sees you visibly stiffen. “But,” And you raise your brows waiting for him to continue. “We’re going back to my place after we check you in.”

You let out a sigh of relief and he laughs, as he watches you plug your phone in and shake your head. 

“Come on, you know that I live off base.” Hesh occasionally glances over at you, as if making sure you’re comfortable while you shuffle through your playlist. He seems to be the picture of calm, but you can sense the underlying tension that lingers between you two.

You say nothing and end up settling on a song you both love (mostly you).

You should stay real close to Jesus Keep that bottle at your hand, my man

He chuckles at your pick, and reaches over to hold your hand. A wave of comfort washes over you. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m Lana coded for the hundredth time.”

You giggle at him and sit up a bit. “You are!”

He shakes his head and lets the song play, humming along to the tune and you’re actively burning it into your mind. It’s something you want to remember every detail of. The way he squeezes your hand while the other is on his steering wheel, tapping his finger at the steering wheel. How thick his dark lashes are, how pretty his viridian hues are when they peek over at you to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination.

As you approach the base, the outer level is a standard Marine military facility, with its usual array of buildings and vehicles. It’s not completely unknown to you. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been on a military base. Military personnel pinlines the large metal gate and one of the guards approaches the vehicle as Hesh fishes out his ID.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Hesh says as you pull up to the guard. “I’ll have to check you in at the visitor’s center first. They don’t let civilians past this point without clearance.”

You nod, trying to hide your nerves as he pulls into a parking lot near the visitor’s center. He senses your apprehension and turns fully to you, gently grasping your hand. “Hey,” He reaches out to cup your chin, and your breath catches in your throat. His earthy green eyes are trained on you. “God, you’re so pretty.” His fingers gently trace your chin, and you fluster under his fixed gaze. “We’re gonna be outta here in no time, and we’ll spend the whole week together, m’kay?”

“Okay.” You squeeze his hand back, and he brings your wrist to his lips, placing a yearning kiss to your skin. It feels as if it were searing to the touch.

Hesh escorts you into the visitor center, a space designed for civilians to wait while military personnel handle their business. He gives you a reassuring smile before heading to the more secure parts of the base. You watch as he disappears into the maze of corridors, leaving you with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

After what feels like an eternity, Hesh returns, his face relaxed and his eyes bright. “All set,” he says, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

You take his hand, and he leads you back to the SUV. The tension between you two is almost palpable, but it’s softened by the warmth of his touch and the promise of time together away from the base.

The scenery changes to one of a regular suburban neighborhood.  From the white picket fences to the restaurants that line the streets to the long lines of cypress and palm trees, you wouldn’t even know the difference. 

“Oh my God, there’s a Taco Bell!” You point out and Hesh laughs at the incredulousness in your tone. 

“Yeah, it’s like any other cookie cutter neighborhood.” He turns into a cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of the biggest home on the block. It’s a mediterranean style home, classic red roof tiles, a stucco exterior with metal work accents. There’s personal touches of greenery, succulents in various sized terracotta pots, a handful of olive trees and wildflowers that maze around the stone path. 

“This is cookie cutter!?” You exclaim, as he helps you out of the vehicle. “You have a sweet crib.”

He smirks at you, carrying your suitcase with one hand and your hand in the other. “Just wait til you see the inside.”

And somehow the interior is much more obnoxiously cozy and earthy. It’s truly a delight to be in a home where beachy tones of seafoam green, turquoise and cerulean are the main color scheme. It really makes you feel like you're on vacation. 

“...and if you’re really down, we can go to the beach…[name]?” He calls out to you and your wandering eyes land back on him. He grins at you, closing the space between you two. “You listenin’?”

“Not really,” You shamelessly admit. “Your place is lovely. Like something out of a magazine.”

He chuckles as he moves past you to climb up the winding staircase with your carry-on and suitcase. “Play your cards right, and this could be yours, too.”

You turn around ripping out of your stupor, “Huh?”

“Nothin’.” He softly snorts, and you follow him the stairs as he shows you to his room. He gives you the option of the guest bedroom or his. You notice little things around the home that paths the walls, small trinkets, memorabilia and photo frames of family members. It all looks different in person, even if he’s given you a house tour over FaceTime.

Peeking into his room, you notice how everything is neatly organized, band posters of Creed, Papa Roach and the like are hung up on his forest green walls. A diffuser runs on his nightstand and it smells like something between sandalwood and amber vanilla. He’s taken all the necessary precautions to make you feel homey.

“Your room.” You smile at him, and he’s more than eager to please. The conversation flows just as easy as it does in person, even as you tell him to turn around while you strip down to get into your bikini.

He promised you all the beach time you could get, and despite the minor jetlag that nags at your slightly foggy mind, you were in the mood to sunbathe. Bonus that you get to show off your summer bod and Hesh is more than willing to peel off his shirt for some much needed skin-to-skin. Even if he can just wrap his taut, tanned arm around your waist to claim you, he’s just happy to be in your company.  

“So, what about the others?” you cock a brow at him, as he flagrantly eyes your figure while you build a sandcastle.

He shakes his head and scoffs, viridian hues trailing down the exposed parts of your skin. “Others?”

You tuck your finger under his chin, signaling for him to look at you and not ogle your body. “Yeah, your other teammates that we play with?”

“Oh right…” He gets lost in your eyes and the way they softly crinkle when you smile, followed by the melodic sound of your laughter and he can’t help but to laugh with you. “They don’t need to know you’re here. Besides, they’re preoccupied.”

You tilt your head. “With?”

He pauses. There’s vacillation behind the earthiness of his eyes. A certain type of secrecy that goes beyond the typical confidentiality that comes with being in the military. “Just stuff.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, not wanting to interrogate him. In the past, he had mentioned that a lot of the things he does out in the field require the utmost discretion and you’re not one to scruple around and find out.

You’d done enough research and background checks to know that he was a military brat, a veteran, has a dog named Riley (whom he misses terribly, but had to go on an op with his brother, Logan), and is oddly passionate about sourdough starters. He’s always open to answering your questions that don’t revolve around his work, which again you’re not entitled to know but you couldn’t say you weren’t the least bit intrigued.

The rest of the day plays out like a dream. Not a single one of your vivid, maladaptive daydreams could touch this. From the way he carries you to the waters of the Pacific Ocean and you cling to him with sea salt in your hair to the way your first kiss sends a thrill of pure electricity up your spine as the sunsets. His lips are soft, plush and salty from the water, and his fingers and hands are as calloused and rough as you had imagined them.

And you literally can’t get enough of him. Especially when he just can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Seriously, like you need a crowbar to pry them off because he’s attached to the hip. Of course, he lets you go when you need to rinse off the beach from your skin in his shower, but he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Your wet, naked untouched body just standing under his enclosure he’s installed in the backyard like you’re waiting to be ravaged by him. 

Because dammit that’s what you want. To have him slip in, wrap his strong arms around your waist, pebbling your nipples between his fingertips as he kisses at your neck and bends you over--

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna wait here for as long as you need.” He sarcastically remarks over the sound of the running water. You giggle at the playfulness in his tone.

“Oh, I’ll take all night, baby.” You scrub at your skin with the loofa he gave you, watching as the soap becomes sudsy white foam that covers your body. And he accidentally gets a glimpse through the cracks in the bamboo casting and--Lord have mercy on his soul. If it weren’t for the body wash he’d given you from earlier, you’d be all exposed to him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He mutters, sitting on the nearby bench just outside of the shower, fiddling with his drawstrings of his swimming trunks. It’s a failed attempt at trying to quell his dirty thoughts of you and keep his wandering eyes away from the little opening he can see you through.

You swallow thickly as you exfoliate your back, but your arms are sore from trying to get back into shape before meeting with him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to propose…

“You wanna wash my back for me?”

There’s a pause. The weight of your words and the heavy silence is agonizing, leaving you in regret and pre-dejection. 

“You sure?” He says a bit too quietly, and you hear the sound of his feet shifting against the sandstone. 

You lick your lips and nod. “Yeah, I mean only if you want to…”

He chuckles, “don’t have to ask me twice.” And you hear the scuffling of his feet hitting the grit of the sandy covered stone floor. You hold your breath as he pads on the bamboo panels over to you, and you hear the distinct sharp inhale the moment he gets a full glimpse of you. You feel your shyness overcome you knowing you are now completely bare to him, but the sound of his wet swimming trunks being casted to the side makes you flinch. 

His warmth and his scent casts a shadow over your mind as he envelops you with his arms, taking the soapy loofa from your hands. You can feel his heart drumming against his chest as your shaky breaths mingle for a bit, but the bristles scrub at your upper and lower back preoccupy your mind. You can feel how he squeezes the soap down the swell of your ass and gets to work again.

“I said, my back.” You susurrate, half turning to him and he smirks. 

“My bad, should I stop?” He presses his lips against your shoulder and peeks up at you with dampened dark lashes. You shudder at his touch. It had been long, too long. His touch is making the pyre in your lower belly ignite and you can’t help but lean your weight against him, exposing your neck to him. “I need you to use your words, sweetheart…”

You whine at his pressing need for verbal confirmation. “No, don’t stop.” He hums against your skin and he gently exfoliates over the peaks of your breast, concentrating on how they pebble under his touch. He experimentally thumbs over the hardened bud, tweaking it between his fingers as he kisses the sweet spots on your neck. It’s a pleasurable feeling that leaves you tingly and throbbing. 

You can feel his hardening length pressing against your ass and you gently brush your fingers against it, and he reflexively bucks his hips. “Eager, are we?”

“I could say the same for you!” You chirp, and his laughter reverberates against your back. He gently takes your chin to face him, and he glances down at your flustered gaze before softly latching his lips to yours. His hands, however, do not stop moving. They’re roaming over the expanse of your breast, squeezing at your thighs as he continues to kiss and squeeze you. 

It’s fucking hot the way he can’t help but intermingle his moans with you, whispering your name as he finally slips his fingers between your thighs. And you glance up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips parted and scrunched brows. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He’s totally melting under your fervent gaze, and the sweet, sweet feeling of your velvety folds against the rough pads of his fingers. 

“Oh, fuck…David…” You gasp, lolling your eyes to the back of your skull. His dick isn’t even in you yet and yet, his fingers are doing more for you than any other man. It’s so easy for him to work both of his fingers into you as he uses his palm to rub at your clit.

“My God, you are so wet.” He croaks, thrusting his fingers into you, past your g-spot and to press against your cervix and you collapse against him when you feel your orgasm practically jump you. He feels you spasm against him, walls fluttering against his fingers and presses his lips against yours again, taking in every one of your little moans and gasps. 

And after you’ve caught your breath, there’s a flash of amusement that takes over his handsome features. “I didn’t think you’d cum so quickly.” He tenderly kisses your shoulder, and then your cheek and up to your hair. You feel your cheeks burn, silently cursing him for his agile fingers, but the humiliation is over in seconds when you turn your body to press flush against his. 

The kiss is electrifying, adrenaline shoots through you and you’re craving more and more of him. His lips part from yours for an instant and he tucks the dampened strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Not everything all at once, sweetheart.” He grins, and your jaw slightly drops at his taunting. He bites his lips at the disbelief in your expression. He wants to ensure that you know that he’s not in it for the quick fuck, that you’re more than that to him. That he’s more than happy to please you, but the sex part. He wants to wait a little. Make sure that you’re really comfortable and you’re not feeling like you’re being coerced into it. 

You sigh as you surf through the 1000s of channels he has on 70 inch plasma screen TV while he takes a long ass piss. Like seriously, this man drinks water by the gallon. But you’re content. You’re sitting on the end of his bed, clad in his Nike hoodie that sits oversized on your body and he’s quietly admiring you from the bathroom door way.  He’s wondering how he got so damn lucky. 

He silently treks over to where you’re perched over the bed, and squats in between your legs, snaking his strong arms against you. His eyes hold an earnest expression, “I can’t believe we met over a Fortnite lobby.”

And that causes you to giggle and rehash all the late night matches you’ve had together, how he’s listened to you pour your heart out to him about all of your troubles and even Venmo’d you a handful of times out of the kindness of his heart.

He watches how your eyes droop, and how any minute you’re about to knock out cold. And soon he’s ushering you under the covers, snug as a bug under his cotton-linen sheets. He joins you from behind, the scent of you is overwhelming and he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. The floral, musky scent of your shampoo is interwoven into your hair paired with your soft snores, easily helping him drift into a deep sleep. 

And when you wake up in the morning it still doesn’t settle in. Not when you wake up to him sleepily rubbing his eyes and peering up at you with that damn grin of his, not when you’re beside him brushing your teeth over his sink and definitely not when you’re sitting across from him on the kitchen bar as he makes you breakfast with nothing but his grey sweats barely hanging off his hips.

It’s cute. The way you two feed each other pancakes and eggs, and how you share the equal feeling of bafflement when you’re facing each other, unable to undo the heap of twisted limbs. Despite his lack of interest in having you meet his teammates yesterday, he wants nothing more than to show you off. In fact, that’s all he does when he’s holding your hand out in the shopping area, buying you anything you happen to say is cute or that you try on that’s very much to his liking. 

He’s getting stopped by soldiers who are also meandering through the streets of San Diego and word gets around fast because soon the crew knew about your sudden appearance all over his Instagram story and the group chat is poppin'.

Logan: No way you flew her out here… Keegan: Kids’, got balls Merrick: I’ll have a word with you when we get back Kick: Wait…who is this again?

“I’m assuming they’re taking it well?” 

He hears your musing voice, and he tears away his gaze from his phone screen to look at you with a beguiled expression. He can’t help but be giddy, as he watches you pad over to him in nothing but his t-shirt, coffee in hand as you take your seat in his lap like it’s reserved just for you. And it feels so natural to have you in his arms like this. You fit so perfectly against him and he’s having to dent his skin with half crescents in an effort to ensure he’s not dreaming.

But reality strikes at you again when you realize that even though you are on vacation, you’re still getting email notifications of transcript requests nearing their deadlines. Your mood shifts and he peeks over at your phone screen, taking your hand in his as he brushes the hair from your face. 

“Is there anything that I can do to make you feel better?”

And that single question is enough to ignite the balmy feeling between your thighs. Your lips instantly find his as you straddle his lap on the love seat, and a small sound of surprise followed by pleasure emits from him, soon finding themselves latching to the side of his throat and he’s threading his fingers through your hair. 

You find yourself returning the favor, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his boxers as your tug at his hardened cock. Vulgarities skid past his mouth as he tries his damned best to fixate those pretty green eyes on you, but they right open when he sees you’ve settled between his thighs. Your plush lips against his aching, swollen tip. 

A groan leaves his lips as you do nothing but tease him with the tip of your tongue before taking him wholly into your mouth, but he doesn’t want to cum yet. He wants to have experienced you fully. So he’s lifting you off the carpet and laying you on the cushion, spreading you wide and dick throbs at your glistening pussy before immersing himself in it. And God, his tongue is as heavenly as his fingers are. He’s not shy at all when it comes to lapping you up like it’s his last meal, shaking you out so he can get even more of you. 

The sounds of his slurping are loud and lewd, humming against your clit right before he inserts his fingers into you and you’re quick to ride out your climax, grabbing at the short dark locks of his hair as you grind against his lips. He doesn’t even move off of you, the sensation of you writhing beneath him as you try to pry him off arouses him, but he obliges when you begin to whine. 

He lets go with a pop, your arousal drips down his chin and you welcome him back with a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he pushes you further down onto the couch. You don’t want to stop, you crave him far too much in this instance to halt his actions. Especially when you’re realizing that he’s naked now, and you’re left in only his shirt. But his fingers are dancing over your stomach, reflexively dipping in at his touch until he gets to the peaks of your breasts. 

The fabric lifts off your body and he takes you in. “You’re seriously so stunning, [name].”

You like that he says your name. Not just some generic pet name like baby, or babe. It means something to you, to him. That you’re not just an object for his sexual gratification and you liked that.

You instantly fluster under his gaze, pupils blown leaving only the remnants of his sage green eyes. “Thank you.” You finally muster up the words after what feeling like forever. He rips his gaze from you and the thought finally comes to him. “Um,” He eyes flicker toward the staircase and then at you. “Upstairs.”

“Right.” 

--

You chew on your lip and the anticipation builds between you as he takes your hand and leads you upstairs, giggling as you scoot on his cool bed sheets, and you feel the warmth of his hard body against yours. He leans over to his nightstand and it feels like a millennia before he fishes out a condom. You peek over to look at the box and the receipt is still attached to it, brand new which explains why he was fiddling with the cardboard for so long.

“Just for me?” You chime and he pokes his tongue in his cheek, trying to hold back his grin while he tears open the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his hardened length. His forearms are on either side of your head.

“You think I’m just out here layin’ pipe? Of course I just bought them.” He bashfully scratches his neck and you can’t help but laugh at his sheepish grin. You lift your head and cup his stubbly cheeks to bring him into a fiery kiss and he quickly returns it, feeling his cocking enfolding at your entrance. 

You gasp at the way his length brushes against your weepy folds. “Please.” You murmur between kisses and he dithers for a second, searching your expression for any hint of uncertainty. But you’re all there, determined and in desperate need for his touch. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers, and you frantically nod. He chuckles at your insistence and he aligns himself with your sopping core, gently prodding into you until he bottom’s out and you’re both already gasping. The saccharine feeling of being filled up is unmatched, especially when the guy that’s in you is the one you’ve been dreaming about for months. 

And you don’t want him to go slow. No, that doesn’t feel like an option right now. Not after how long you feel like you’ve waited for this moment. Overwrought with desire, your fingers dig into the supple flesh of his ass and he lets out a broken whimper in the form of your name. And he seems to get the hint because he’s quickly ramming into you, your hips connect in a frenetic manner, but it’s so so so good. 

His viridian eyes are reaming at the sight of your dulcet features quickly melting into a lewd expression and milky moans that spill out from your lips. He kisses you haphazardly wanting nothing more but to make you cum and trust that you’re nearly there. He’s hitting all the right places and his lower abdomen is rubbing your puffy clit in just the right way. 

One hand on your hip and the other makes its way to wrap around your throat and, oh God, that look in his eyes and you’re totally done for. His name is clawing its way out from your throat as you feel the maddening rolls of passion drowning your soul with rapture, exposing your neck as you swell with a sigh and falter with a shudder that cascades up and down your body. Kiss after blissful kiss and Hesh feels every ripple in your body. It’s the catalyst of his peak, breaking under the pressure of your pulsating walls and convulsing body. 

It’s the warmth of your neck as his teeth latch onto the sensitive skin, your strangled cries, your labored breaths that make it feel like his orgasm was flaring red, white and blue. You watch in awe as all the dewy green in his eyes fall golden like little stars in the sunlight peeking through his blinds. You’re both panting, melting into each other, and laughter spills from your lips as you hold one another closely. And the adoration seeps out of his bones when he notices that he’s springing back to life and you’re quick to respond to his passion.

And you don’t even know how many hours it’s been. Between refueling breaks and trips to the bathroom, you literally can’t keep your hands off each other. You begin to lose count of all the positions he’s putting you in, but you know one thing for sure--it’s gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning.

Hesh can hardly shake you awake. You’re all wrapped up in his arms, sharing the same covers and he breathes you in as you nuzzle into his neck not wanting to move from your cozy position. He stares at the ceiling, counting the stars he’s placed in the form of all the constellations he knows. Holding you like this and feeling the warmth constantly spread through his chest when he takes a little peek at you. It’s driving him nuts. 

If he were being honest with you right now, he’d say that he’s done searching. That he’s found the one. But of course, he knows that you’re accustomed to the 1-2, hit-and-run, cum-and-go lowly standard of men who have fed you the same bullshit, so he reserves on that. 

Your eyes flutter open and a sleepy smile stretches across your cute features, and he brushes away the strays to gather as much of your visage that he can. 

“Sleep well?”

“I slept amazing.” You stretch your limbs like a cat down to the spread of your toes, but you feel the dull ache in your muscles and groan. “You must’ve put me in every position imaginable.”

A repentant smile plays on his lips as the warmth sidles into his cheeks. “You never complained.”

“Shut up.” You mimp, and he chuckles at the way you purse your lips and puff your cheeks at him. 

Hesh's heart tightens as he watches how your face contorts into one of sadness, the reality of your limited time together gnaws at the both of you. You wish that you could both freeze this moment—just you, him, and the quiet morning light filtering through the linen curtains. But time, as always, marches on, and soon enough, the outside world will come knocking and you’ll have to go back to your boring desk job and he’ll have to go back on his confidential ops.

"You know," he begins, his voice soft, "we've still got a few more days. How about we make the most of them?"

Your eyes meet his, and there's a flicker of understanding. You both know that this time together is precious, and neither of you wants to waste a single second. The romance between you two is budding rapidly and you want nothing more than to cling to him, getting lost in the small blip of time that you will forever cherish.

"I'm all in," you reply, your voice firm despite the lingering exhaustion from last night’s activities. "What do you have in mind?"

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he pulls you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. "How about a lazy day? We could just stay in my bed,” he caresses the exposed part of your tummy, leaving a wake of gooseberries, “order some take out,” he nips at your earlobe and you sigh at his touch. “and see where the day takes us."

You laugh softly, the sound like music to his ears and you clasp your arms around his neck. It’s odd. You both feel like at any given moment either one of you will vanish into thin air and you’ll wake up alone in your loft on the other side of the country. "I think that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both fall silent, simply enjoying the comfort of being close. But the weight of the week ticking away lingers in the air, a reminder that this isn't your everyday life. It's a bubble, fragile and fleeting.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Whatever happens after this week... we'll figure it out, okay?" His heart tugs at the brimming tears in your eyes. He knows you’re trying to withhold all your pent up feelings and he wants nothing more than to help you squash the negativity that holds more space in your brain than it should.

You nod, your hand finding his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, we will." And you mean that.

With that, the two of you settle back into the warmth of the covers, letting the world outside wait a little longer. For now, it's just the two of you, and that's more than enough. 

And just as you two had expected, the week flies by like it’s nothing. Days, afternoons and evenings of lovemaking, dancing on the beach, and him expertly instructing you on how to make the perfect sourdough loaf. How you whisper to each other about your deepest, darkest secrets. And he finds himself opening up to you about how he’s always felt like his neglectful upbringing made him slightful resentful and hardened. Oh how the tears flow at the admission that follows. 

You learn that Hesh thinks he’s everything that his father is not, how his brother, Logan is the Golden Pony boy but he doesn’t blame him for it. How sometimes he wants to push away his little brother more than anything, but he’s all he got left. Your heart aches at the thought of him keeping all of these emotions pent up, so you listen to him and hold him tight; dewy eyed, tear stained and puffy. 

These were the types of memories you wanted to create with your dream partner. It’s whimsical, light yet heavy, but not uncomfortable. It’s like eating the most luscious dessert, but its weight holds pleasantly in your stomach. 

But it leads you back to where you had initially met. The airport.

The hustle and bustle is muted as the both of you sit next to each other, snugged up as he traces patterns onto your jeans in an attempt to calm you. He doesn’t want you to leave. In his mind he’s already thinking of all the time you’re going to spend in the future--and you? 

You’re already withdrawing. You’re thinking that there’s no way in hell that this will thrive. Living in two different parts of the country was not ideal for a budding relationship. For an online friendship, sure, but this easily became more than that.

“Hey,” He nudges you, and your eyes flicker up to meet him. He can sense how your energy has changed, and how you’re detaching from him and he hates it. “Stop that.” He makes you face him and your eyes are distant.

“Stop what?”

His stomach lurches. The doubt creeps back into your mind, and you feel yourself succumbing to the emptiness that you’ll endure when you get back. You’re trying to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak and pain of saying goodbye and he sees right through it. His eyes soften, but he’s determined to shake you out of your gloomy state.

“Stop thinking this won’t work,” he says firmly, continuing to draw the patterns into the fabric of your jeans. “I can see it written all over your face, and trust me, I get it. But we’ve got something here--something real, tangible.” His voice falters just slightly as he racks his brain to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this…about us.”

The life in your eyes returns a bit more and he knows he has you hooked onto his words that causes your heart to skip a beat.

“This week…it’s been everything I’ve imagined and more.” He cringes slightly at the corniness of his words, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. He’s being so sincere, and you feel yourself choking up. “And I know we’ve just met, but I feel so comfortable with you.” He rolls his eyes a bit at his own words. “Like I’ve known you forever.” And you giggle again, nodding along with him.

He is right, of course. It really does feel like coming home, and you could get used to that feeling.

“I don’t want this to end, I don’t want to go back to talking behind a screen and twiddling our thumbs, wondering when our communication is going to dwindle.” Hesh says, facing you now. “Look, I know this might sound forward,” Your chest tightens at the earnesty in his expression and his words. “But I want to make this work. Like, really work. Like I want you to be here, with me.” He runs his fingers through his short cropped hair and he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I want us to figure out a way to move you out here--whenever I’m stationed, wherever we need to be.”

You feel a surge of mixed emotions--fear, hope, relief? It’s enmeshing and turning in your stomach. It’s what you want to hear, but you’re terrified. 

“David, I…I don’t know…” You croak out, feeling the tears cascade down your cheeks, but he shakes his head and wipes them away. 

“You don’t have to decide right now, [name].” he reassures you, and you feel your throat tighten at how donnish he’s being. “I just want you to know I’m in this for the long haul. I’ve found the one,” He softly smiles. “And it’s you.”

And it’s like a freakin’ dam burst or something with the way you’re crying, but it’s tears of real relief. The idea of staying with him to build a life together, it’s not something you went as far as even imagining. Not until now.

“No bullshit, [name]. I’m not up for losing you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you profess, but your voice trembles with the heavy weight of your feelings. “But the thought of leaving everything behind…it’s a lot to take in, y’know?”

He nods. “I know it is,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “And I’m not asking you to do anything rash. I just want you to think about it. To know that I’m ready to make this work.” He squeezes your hand. “Just say the word.”

You let out a shaky exhale, and nod. “Okay.” You laugh a bit as he dabs away at your tears again. “I’ll think about it.”

His face lights up with a brilliant smile as he kisses your wrist and then pulls you into a tight hug. The sound of the announcer calling your flight ripples through your little moment and reality sets in again. This time with hope. Hope that something real will flourish from this.

As you pull away and walk to the terminal together hand in hand, you pause to stand in front of him. He easily towers over you and you remember how he looked when he picked you up when you touched down. He cups your face and softly kisses your lips, letting go too soon to place a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Text me when you land.” He caresses your cheek and you nod with a small smile on your face. Your heart aches when he pulls away, his pinky lingers for a second before he lets go, but it’s filled with something new.

His eyes linger on you as you become smaller, boarding the plane and you turn around once more to find that he’s still watching you. His expression is a mix of longing and resoluteness. You wave, and he returns it with eyes full of silent promise.

As you finally step into the plane, you can’t help but wonder if this is really just the beginning of your new life.

masterlist

mini taglist: @milkteaarttime @keegansshark

[novashelby]

It Feels Like Home When You're Here~Tommy Shelby x Reader One-shot

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Mention of war, mention of sex, but overall sfw.

Word Count: 1,246

Summary: Tommy Shelby feels disconnected with everyone after the war. Everyone except you. This was a request using the prompt: "Why do I feel like I’m home whenever you’re near me?" Just know the prompt is not mine, but I can no longer find the list. I will credit it once I find it.

Please enjoy! Please consider commenting and a reblog!

War did something to boys. Took good boys…good natured, impressionable boys and turned them into hardened, difficult to do men. Tommy wasn’t any different. No matter how he wanted to think or what he knew of himself, he was no different than the others who went to France and died. Everyone died in France in one way or another. Everyone died and everyone killed. And after scurrying through the dark, rat infested tunnels with no light other than a hand held torch, nowhere felt normal. Nowhere felt like home. People he once could connect with weared thin and fizzled off, and before he knew it, the only thing that soothed him was the brown liquor filled bottle. But they weared thin, too, and he’d have to go buy a new friend. 

After a busy Wednesday, Tommy headed to the pub. It was an unusual case. In fact, it’d be unusual if he didn’t go to the pub for a drink or two. Pushing through the creaky wooden door, he skimmed over the sea of people. Every time he’d walk anywhere, there’d be a chorus of greetings. A popular man he was. But lonely, God, fucking lonely, but he’d feel pathetic to admit it. In the farthest right corner of the Garrison, John and Arthur were sharing a rum.

“Thought I’d find ya’ two here,” Tommy said, taking a crack at a poor excuse of a sarcastic joke. He sat down and whistled for a glass. Of course, it came promptly. No one dared to make a Shelby wait for anything. 

John, already two sheets to the wind, looked over at his older brother. In a slew of slurred jumbles, he asked, “and what has ya’?” Meaning, in some sort of way; how are you? Tommy couldn’t answer before the direction of conversation changed to what it always was; women, money, horse racing. John was going on about some whore he came across the previous night. “The back end on her.” He elbowed Arthur in the side who joked that he had kids to go home to.

Sometimes Tommy would join in on the banter, enjoying the occasional lightheartedness, but usually he’d half-listen and half-observe the space around while his head just slowly drifted. That particular night, he watched the barman slide down pints and poured glasses of brown liquor. 

The door swung open, the tiny bell on the frame ringing. Tommy glanced over for a second and went back to his drink when it hit him. Only men and the occasional whore walked through those doors. But her long hair and petite features stuck out like a sore thumb. Unlike the men who dressed in browns, blues, and beiges, she fashioned something lighter. A pretty lilac under a white winter coat made of mink, or so she said. He looked back over again, eyes following her. He knew why she was there and it didn’t take long for their eyes to connect.

John stopped talking and Arthur, under his breath, mumbled, “my fookin’ God.” But she was neither of theirs, Tommy thought as she approached the table. The pub followed her as she walked. John and Arthur looked up at her, but Tommy silently slid from the table and extended his hand.

“I was looking for you,” she said, but he didn’t respond. He simply took her arm with one hand, and with the other, he downed his whiskey and took out a smoke from his pocket. Together, they walked out of the pub in silence, down the dusty Birmingham street. It was a little bit before either of them spoke. Just when they hit her small dingy flat, she said, “I was going to cook you dinner, but last time you hardly touched a thing-”

“I don’t see you for dinner,” he said, taking over the key that she fumbled with in her hands. She sighed, putting her palms in the air, moving off to the side. He just wanted to feel her bedsheets against his skin. He fiddled with the door and it came undone easily. “You need a better lock-”

“When will you admit you see me for more than sex?”

“I don’t admit things very often,” he said, and they paused together in the entryway of the flat, bodies pressed. He smiled, touching her rosy rouge tinted cheek, thumb making circles. He nodded for her to continue onward, and she untangled herself from his overbearing stance. 

Her apartment was always cold, but it was the only place where life didn’t suck. That and the pub. But even the pub became lonely and dark. He took his usual spot on the sofa and when she walked by, he reached up and snaked his arms around her waist to pull her down with him. “I don’t need another drink,” he said, nose tangled in her hair, sniffing the lavender scented shampoo in her thick curls. 

“Perhaps I wanted one,” she said, twisting herself to look at him. Hearing him whisper c’mere was like music to her ears. Instantly, she rotated, putting one leg on each side of him. She straddled him as his hands rested on her hips, keeping her steady. Intimately, she placed her hands on his cheeks, thumbs rubbing circles. She chuckled, “you need a shave.”

Tommy smiled, leaning in to peck at her lips. “I’ve only shaved this past Saturday.”

“It’s Wednesday-”

“Alright, alright,” he said. “Then I’ll just get up now and-”

She pressed harder against him, snaking her arms around his neck to pull him in close. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Her lips ghosted over his ear moving to his temple, leaving a lingering kiss while his hands tickled up her back under her blouse. When his fingers worked at her bra, she let out a soft sigh. “When will it ever be about something other than sex, Thomas?” she asked, pushing away. His hands dropped, finding a new home on her thighs. They stared at one another for a few moments before continuing, “hmm? Will you ever let me in deeper?”

Tommy looked off to the side, swallowing. “It’s just hard for me right now-”

“You always say that,” she accused, grabbing his face, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “You always say that. Thomas! When is it ever not hard? It’s always going to be hard, but don’t you understand…you’re here. Other men weren’t as lucky!”

Before he could process his thoughts, he replied, “no, they were luckier.”

She straightened her back, dropping her hands to her side. Scoffing, she said, “so my brother-”

“No, no, no,” he said, stopping her before she could speak anymore. He held her close again, working around her stiffness. He rubbed his face into the crook of her neck before resting his forehead on his shoulder. “We don’t have to have sex…it’s just the way I know how to express my emotions.” 

She eased a bit, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s hard, is all. learning how to navigate you-”

“Out of everywhere, this is the only place that feels right,” he said, looking up at her. “Why do I feel like I’m home whenever you’re near me?” There was no answer for that. She didn’t know what to say because she herself couldn’t explain it. They agreed it’d never happen. That they’d stay neutral and it’d just be as it was and nothing more. But somewhere along the way, they bonded to one another. 

And neither minded.

[fu66sun]

telepath; 이동혁; love

heartbreak is an enigma that never unfolds in a specific moment. it isn't a linear journey either. rather, you realize you've been heartbroken after a period of living through that emotional turmoil.

love, on the other hand, takes on numerous forms and arrives in various ways. you might not even notice you've been in love until it either slips through your fingers or you fully acknowledge its presence.

for y/n, love had always been somewhat of a mystery. most of her life was characterized by unrequited love, leaving her with the sense that love was a foreign concept. this realization had always carried an undercurrent of insecurity for her, and it was her biggest secret. in comparison to her friends like renjun and haechan, she often felt like she was lagging behind in the realm of love and relationships. her heart guarded by layers of caution and self-doubt. she had grown up on a steady diet of romance novels and romantic comedies, each one intensifying her longing for a love that had thus far eluded her. her closest brush with a real relationship had been with doyoung, a guy she met on tinder a couple of years ago. they had chatted for an entire year before finally meeting in person, and y/n had felt like it was her chance to experience all the romantic adventures she'd missed out on.

however, that potential romance was cut short when doyoung uttered the dreaded words, "i'm not ready for a relationship." after leading her on for a month, he made it clear that he didn't want anything more, leaving y/n feeling like she was once again left in the lurch. it was as if she had regressed into the realm of loneliness, her romantic inexperience a constant source of frustration.

and she was back to, a lonely virgin, again.

renjun… he had a girlfriend and was deeply committed to her. as he often mentioned, he was rarely single and had navigated the world of relationships with relative ease. with his easy charm and charisma, renjun seemed to find love effortlessly, a fact that often left y/n in awe and admiration.

haechan, on the other hand, was a different story. while he had never officially had a girlfriend, he was the epitome of a "fuckboy." he would regularly skip classes to meet up with girls, boasting about the number of girls he'd kissed, and touting his sexual conquests as if they were his greatest achievements. it was easy to label him as the typical bad boy who was allergic to commitment, but there was more to haechan than met the eye.

there was a time when haechan wasn't always like that. according to the stories he shared with renjun, there was a significant chapter in his life involving a family friend named winter. the way he talked about her suggested a deeper connection. winter wasn't ready for a serious relationship at the time, and neither was haechan, initially.

however, something shifted for him, and he wanted more. unfortunately, winter didn't reciprocate his feelings. this disconnect led to clashes and ultimately drove them apart. winter's rejection left haechan deeply affected, and he gradually adopted the persona of a traumatized "fuckboy-wannabe." even as he pursued numerous other girls, haechan couldn't help but reflect on the impact winter had on him and how their complex relationship had left a lasting mark on his approach to love and relationships.

all while also trying to get with every girl in sight. which would eventually also include you.

haechan's transformation to someone who wore the mask of indifference intrigued y/n. she often wondered about the untold moments and heartaches that led to this drastic change. could she learn something from his story, or would it simply reinforce her belief that love was a complicated and elusive entity?

taglist yayy: @sunflowerhae @sundamariis @yesohhsehun @hcheach @lhcread if i forgot anyone pls send me an ask !!!<3<3<3<3

a/n: i wanted to give the characters a bit more depth, rather than just fighting or eventually just fucking. lmao. i have such a special spot for the three of them. i can't wait for you to continue reading and getting to know them a bit better. whatever questions you have about them, feel free to ask:)

i also wont be uploading a new chapter until tuesday or the days after, my midterms are right around the corner, so, yeah.

have a nice weekend.

love, yuu

[notmorbid]

big swiss.

dialogue prompts from big swiss: a novel by jen beagin.

your aura is the size of a barge.

so you do have feelings?

i'm a shit-thinker, not a shit-talker.

where are you from, originally?

do you sing? are you a singer?

i don't use what happened to me as an excuse.

i'm a worker, not a wallower.

trauma doesn't get you a lifelong 'get out of jail free' card.

my siblings are dicks. i'd never die for them.

you seem disconnected from your body.

have you ever seen so many narcissists gathered in one place? be honest.

we hate all the same things.

why would you google such a thing?

people are almost never articulate about their pain.

there's not a lot of shame in this town.

it's not haunted. it's cursed, which is slightly different.

i never expected to feel this way again.

enough about me. did you have an okay childhood?

i've always been drawn to darksiders.

we just met. i don't want to scare you.

did you fit in, or were you a weirdo?

sleeping alone is my greatest unfiltered joy.

sounds like you read my diary.

call me before you do anything stupid, okay? promise.

perhaps you're unaware of it, but your every thought is written on your face.

i'm rarely lonely because i like my own brain.

anger can be cleansing, too.

better the devil you know.

aren't you afraid of getting caught?

you could talk to a hole in the wall.

i can't have more than one friend at a time.

people only live like this if they're on really good drugs.

i wish i saw myself in you.

do people say 'boss' anymore? you know, as a synonym for 'cool'?

a group of vultures is called a 'committee', which is kind of cute.

don't finish my sentences.

i don't respond well to verbal compliments. they seem phony to me.

dog parks are for people, not dogs.

did you just say what i think you said?

first thought, worst thought.

it feels like we already know each other.

i'm a thinker, not a feeler.

do i seem gay to you?

i was born with bags under my eyes.

what's more off-putting than namedropping?

i wouldn't know what to do with money, except piss it away.

are you going to make obscure references all night?

are you always this intense?

i distrust people pleasers.

you can't steal from the library. it's extremely bad luck.

luck is my only religion.

i don't feel like myself. or maybe i feel more like myself.

you've been standing there for twenty minutes.

last night i dreamed there were eight of you, and i didn't know which one was real.

i feel like you're hiding something from me, but i can't figure out what it is.

i think about you when you're not around.

don't tell me you talk to me in your head.

i fantasized about your forearms for weeks.

i might be growing a third eye.

lie next to me for a minute.

you already have what you're looking for. it's already there, inside you.

i'm feeling pretty gay, to be honest.

you look incredible for your age. you know that, right?

i watch porn now, thanks to you.

i am, in fact, a terrible actor. friend. human being.

stories change, depending on the audience. everybody knows that.

can you see what kind of night i've had?

you have the most expressive mouth i've ever seen.

you're not as detached as you think.

have you ever been happy?

i feel like a patch of moving fog, most of the time.

your ability to compartmentalize bewilders me.

you should try living in the world. or, i don't know, reading a newspaper.

i feel like i'm accessing and inhabiting one of my past lives.

i feel radicalized. ready to fight.

it's an omen. one of us is about to die.

you look more alive than you have in years.

are the words 'adult' and 'adultery' related?

i missed you. grievously.

what is that scent you're wearing?

i've been trying to ease my way into telling you about it.

before we met, i felt frozen. now i'm a puddle on the floor.

there's an air of doom about you.

you seem profoundly lonely.

so i make people want to kill themselves?

i tend to attract damaged people. broken toys.

i love being in public with you.

i am a master of the charade.

i never pity the rich.

do you consider me distant and unfeeling?

there's something actually wrong with you.

confess. unburden yourself. take responsibility.

we're not 'dating'. don't be disgusting.

i'm having an allergic reaction to your horrible personality.

i think we might be in love.

i had a very intense dream about ____ the other night.

what's happening to you?

one of the pitfalls of same-sex relationships? you can't break down in peace in public restrooms.

flowering dogwoods are bisexual. like us.

your 'tough girl' routine is pretty transparent, at this point.

it wouldn't be paranoia if i had any control over it.

you don't seem afraid to take emotional risks.

are you trying to get me to leave you?

you'll have to reinvent yourself.

do you know how many bathrooms i've cried in? thirteen.

i don't trust you right now, but i do care about you.

maybe you should try sitting with your discomfort.

i'd rather live like an animal than in some fantasy where people only have control over me if i let them.

you millennials and your utopias, i swear to god. you're so attached to your vision, to your virtue, to your supposedly good intentions. to being on the right side of everything.

why is it so dark in here?

i called and called but you weren't picking up, so i started walking.

you don't have a casual bone in your body. not one.

get under the covers. i'll sit with you until you fall asleep.

i'm always suspicious of people who openly worship their families.

if you can't even say it, maybe it's not something you should be doing.

you must have dirt on everyone in town.

i'm not done with you. i'm not sure i'll ever be.

this is a gossip-free zone.

you don't seem like a horse person.

your world seems like a good place to disappear.

you need to have more compassion for yourself.

i know my heart seems like it's in one piece, but it's not. it's all smashed up.

i was just looking for a way to feel better.

i've survived a thing or two, same as you.

you give up too easily. even in arguments.

is there anyone you actually care about?

i chose you. over and over.

i've never been more myself with anyone. including myself.

we all have an inner shithead. maybe you need to shake hands with yours.

i was too ashamed to tell you, or anyone else.

sometimes it's hard to let go of a secret companion, even if they're shitty company.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting my brother to follow Islam?🐢

(Emoji so I can recognize my submission)

⚠WARNING⚠: This is a reaaal long one and also contains discussion of some potentially triggering subjects.

I'll try and explain this as concisely as I can but this is just a part of a long ongoing issue I have had with my brother. I (16F/X) have been at odds with my brother (19M) over a multitude of subjects. We debate often but the problem is he is very stubborn so the debates usually don't result in anything beyond me being frustrated and his opinions remaining unchanged. The problem is that he has unfortunately started going down a nazi rabbit hole and picking up all sorts of extremely harmful ideas. I'll list some of them for you so you can get a general picture: Denying evolution, the rothschild conspiracy, general antisemitism, transphobia, monarchism /facism, calling all sexual content filthy, misogynistic ideas, hating on atheists, etc. As an atheist who is also aroace, nonbinary and also very progressive, this makes me feel greatly uncomfortable. Let me be clear, I don't think I'm the asshole for opposing these ideas, the part where I could be the asshole is me opposing his transition into religion. A lot of his more radical ideas started sprouting after he started getting into Islam like the whole denying evolution thing and his rampant antisemetism. Also just to be clear, I have nothing against Muslims and I am not trying to say that Muslims inherently don't believe in basic science, it's just the particular circles that my brother has been exposed to that are giving him these ideas. However I will acknowledge the that it might be my own implicit bias that is making me reject his own interest in Islam. I'd also like to note my brother has been struggling with his health basically his entire teen life, where he has trouble sleeping, has barely any energy and this has led to him becoming depressed. He barely has any interests and those he had he's recently said he no longer enjoys. It's clear to me this is why such toxic ideas have appealed to him, because he feels disconnected and lonely. He barely goes out, he barely eats, he sleeps until the early afternoon, he has to shave and shower every single time he goes out and if he accidentally nicks himself while shaving he will adamantly refuse to go. It really upsets me to see him this way because I can tell he is suffering but he will never talk to me about it. However it doesn't change the fact that he has said some truly abhorrent things. I have tried many times to show him he's wrong or to gently guide him towards a more progressive and educated outlook but he is too stubborn to change.

This fully came to a head when we were having dinner together with our parents and he kept repeating the same arguments that god must be real because XYZ or, evolution is fake because XYZ and I would tell him why I disagreed with his reasoning. Continue in circles for two whole hours. This ended with me telling him that he was a dumbass and that he should stop watching religious content.

I feel I am an asshole here because just as I don't want to be forced into a religion, I shouldn't force him out of one, but I feel since he's picked up religious ideas he's only gotten worse. Just yesterday he officially became a Muslim at a nearby mosque. I feel I should be happy for him but I can already see problems that may arise. He has to do 5 prayers (salat) a day at certain times and this morning he slept through two. I also worry about Ramadan since he's already very skinny and barely eating, I don't think further fasting will help at all.

Even worse, he's been spreading some of his ideas to my parents. They don't take on all his BS thankfully but they have absorbed some of the more troubling stuff, particularly his transphobia. I try to avoid queer topics as much as I can for this reason but whenever it does come up I always feel sick just sitting there listening to them.

Yet again I want to reiterate that Muslims are not a monolith and do not all share the same opinions but an unfortunately high number are greatly opposed to the idea of queer people. Not to mention many hold strong beliefs regarding the strict divisions of male and female. I don't know. Yet again, it could just be accidental Islamophobia on my part but I don't think it's a coincidence that he started getting more extreme once he got into particular Muslim circles.

So tumblr, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[butmakeitgayblog]

Hugs! I saw your repost of some ADC FTWD pics. Was she in a podcast talking about how unhappy she was? So you know which one?

Yeah the ELLE podcast she just did, she talks about how being in that apoc environment nonstop for so many years without really having established a homebase for herself here in the states was effecting her mental health and happiness. I'll link the podcast below, but the way she made it sound was just that basically constantly working on such a an intense show without having a real homebase or roots or an established support system that she could unerringly fall back on was slowly getting her to a place where she was kinda losing herself in the work. She was starting to do things like feel so tired at the end of the night of shooting that she'd debate if it was even worth washing off the dirt and blood from filming because she'd just have to be back up in 6hrs, so what's the point. She alluded to the fact that while her mind knew the things they were filming and this arrid, lifeless landscape she was constantly in wasn't real, she was starting to have a problem with her body becoming confused and being too attuned with being in that hellish kind of environment. It sounded almost as if her fight or flight system and general feeling of happy vs. hopeless was starting to acclimate and align way too much with constantly being in that apocalyptic world (she didn't say that last part directly, but I'd bet money that's what she meant without saying it.)

Which makes sense. I mean she's not from the states, she was the youngest on the show among a group of people who all have spouses and families and homes here, she didn't have a house here for years which meant she was living out of a suitcase both while filming and after, she didn't have a partner at the time, she was bouncing from friends to friends to friends who all had their own established support systems and their own jobs. So there she was in her offtime, trying to disconnect from this apocalyptic mindset that she'd been rotating in and out of for the last 4+years in this endless grind of like 7-8 months of filming every year, but not ever really having anywhere or anyone solid to help ground her.

It sounds like it was lonely. And really mentally depleting, and I'm glad she stepped back when she did. If anything she probably should've done it sooner, but from everything she says about herself she seems like someone who is really hard on herself and very focused on always doing things perfectly ya know? Idk, but sad situation and one I'm sure is more common among actors who work on long projects or especially dark projects than people talk about openly.

Anyway here's the podcast, it's pretty good. Not really the canned answers of media training or promoting a project, a lot more actually just hearing what she has to say and so on

Apple podcast

Spotify podcast

[kangamommynow]

Marriage advice from an old happily married lady.

Long post with some huge generalizations but I still have been thinking about it so I'm writing it anyway. It should be noted that I'm referring to male-female relationships, but the dynamic can also come up in other forms. It's the dynamic that matters, not the gender.

I was randomly scrolling videos yesterday and one made me stop and think. It was a woman posting that she used to look forward to when her husband came home from work, but now she dreads hearing him arrive. Not because she's abused, but because she's more lonely when he's there than when it's just her and the kids. The comments were ... Alarming. One woman after another saying the same thing. Either they were ready to leave and waiting for a specific time, usually having to do with the kids, or saying they were checked out of the marriage but couldn't leave, usually for financial reasons.

This isn't new. It's not surprising. And I also know a shit ton of people in exactly the same position.

She feels lonely, disconnected, unheard, unloved. When she's asked for help, repeatedly, specifically, in the past, her needs have been dismissed. She's asked her partner to step up as a co-manager of the household, as a co-parent of the kids, as a co-partner in the relationship, she's been accused of nagging, and her responses have been called emotional. She's stopped asking for help and has lost respect for the person she married. When he comes home, it's not a relief, it's another demand on her time, attention, and mental load. Another person she's responsible for taking care of. Her desire for connection has been met by requests, or demands, for sex and she feels he only wants to use her body, not the intimacy she craves. Every time she reached out for affection it's turned into another task to fulfill someone else's needs rather than honor her own. So she stopped seeking it and pulls away when he offers it, and her refusal to use sex to try to get what she needs is met with hostility, coldness, and greater distance. She's stopped asking for anything from him. She's stopped expecting anything. They are, at best, roommates with kids and some shared expenses.

AND

I have had conversations with a lot of men, on Tumblr and elsewhere, where I've heard the other side of the story.

He's feeling lonely and disconnected and unloved. The woman he married who was fun and sexy and made him feel good is gone. Now when he comes home, stressed from work and wanting to relax, it's to coldness and more demands. Nothing seems to be enough and he doesn't know what to do. When he tries to connect she pulls away. He can't make her laugh anymore. She used to put effort into looking nice, doing things that brought comfort to him and now she doesn't. He spends more time seeking enjoyment from his hobbies or interests because there isn't the connection he craves in the marriage. Sex is non-existent or he feels like he has to beg for it, and sex is one of the ways he feels most connected to her. Maybe he's filling that craving in affairs, or porn, or flirting online, because he certainly doesn't feel desirable to her anymore. Resentment is growing.

YEAH.

Every relationship is different, of course, and I'm excluding any abusive and deliberately manipulative behavior here - that's a separate issue. I'm talking about relationships that started with best intentions, with affection. In my opinion, the issue comes down to communication and the difficulty we often have with expressing our needs and desires with compassion and a desire to connect, listening with a desire to understand and avoiding a response that is defensive. Most people I know need a lot of practice and often some professional help to do it. Our society generally still convinces men they aren't supposed to have needs other than sex, much less talk about them. And women are still considered, like it or not, as unnecessarily emotional, irrational and petty. Often we fall into those communication traps and suffer for it.

What I'm hearing is some big red flags.

- does one person in the partnership do all the managing? That person is responsible for remembering birthdays, doctor's appointments, grocery shopping, school communication, making sure dinner is made and the toilet is cleaned? Is the other person expecting a list of delegated tasks? If only one partner knows where the scissors are and when parent teacher conferences are and who the kid’s teachers are, Then it's not an equal partnership in parenting and household management. It's a marriage killer, unless you have both explicitly arranged things this way and you come back to discuss that agreement regularly. 🚩

- almost everyone craves affection, intimacy, connection. What that looks like to each person is unique and unless you are explicitly expressing what makes you feel loved and asking what makes your partner feel loved, you are in trouble. For many women, sexual desire is responsive. Intimacy comes first, then desire. If she doesn't receive non-sexual affection and emotional intimacy, then sexual intimacy will start to feel like another task to be completed. For many men, sex is a primary way of achieving intimate connection. It's a recipe for disaster unless you are communicating about it. 🚩

- Stress is a desire killer for many people (men and women). For others sexual connection is a stress reducer, so they seek it when stressed. Again, miscommunication is very bad, incredibly common, and a couple's sexual connection can quickly go wrong, leaving both parties feeling unfulfilled, disconnected, lonely. 🚩

I admit it’s hard for me to communicate, too. I’m incredibly happily married to someone who has difficulty communicating as well. But we try! Compassion for those struggles and love each other the way we need love, a desire to serve each other and make our partner feel comforted and adored helps even when we have trouble putting our needs into words.

[darkbluekies]

I loved your family life with the yanderes!

I was wondering if you'd be open to doing more of their reactions ,especially to the readers pregnancy/ birth? I personally love kids and want some of my own one day ( looking forward to twins!) And I would really love to see how they react.

Silas would be stoked, partially because now you seriously can't escape and he gets the life he always daydreamed about! Freaks the hell out when reader goes into labor, like sweating pacing, almost punching the doctor for doing their job. He definitely books a private room and has security everywhere but it's all worth it for you and your baby. He's never gonna let anything happen to either of you

Dr.kry would definitely become even more of a control freak and monitor everything. Imagine reader gets pregnant while still in the hospital. Joy turns to panic, if this gets out people will know what's going on between you two! He takes you home and has you on a strict schedule. He has access to everything you could ever need and definitely plans a home birth. He's so happy seeing his darling with his child. Finally the family he's been waiting for.

Edmund would be happy in a "one more thing off the checklist" kinda way. He'd be happy if his darling was happy but other than that not super emotional about the whole ordeal. He doesn't get emotional till the birth and then? It's pure protective anger and rage! The second he hears any sounds of pain he is fighting his way into that room and screaming at the maids to take away the pain. Slightly resents the child for causing you so much pain, but once he sees the love in your eyes he can't stay mad. ( He can but chooses not to for your sake)

Jerry's just glad it's not her going through the whole ordeal. She sees the upsides but also the downsides. upside? You're trapped, and you won't be lonely while she's working! Downside? Your attention is split now. Plus now you're emotional and defiant and she can't really punish you for it. She's pretty disconnected when the birth comes around. She doesn't really care, but also doesn't like seeing you in pain. " You wanted this, it's all part of the package ain't it?". She's not as attached to the baby but sees it as an extension of you so it's cool in her eyes.

To Hedwig this is the best time of her life! She is so excited to have a baby with you! She loves every second, and probably cried more than you do. She's taking full care of you and keeps the environment controlled and safe. She has private security surrounding the house and hospital. Near constant checkups and shopping sprees. Has changed the colors of the nursery three times and it still doesn't feel right to her. You never have a second alone and she is constantly touching and talking to the baby. You're pretty much on bed rest the second you find out but the birth is mostly up to you, as long as she gets to be there she doesn't mind! Once the baby is here she never leaves them alone but that means some alone time for you to rest and recover.

I'm sorry this is so long, its been rotting in my brain ever since I first read family life with the oc's!!

I've had the mental picture of when you first bring the baby/babies home the yanderes go to sleep and wake up with their darling out of bed! They immediately run around searching for you, but then they remember " oh fuck the baby!" They rush into the nursery to find their darling asleep on the floor beside the crib, their hand slotted between the bars holding onto their babies hand. Their heart warms but also it still scared them thinking about how you could've left and took their whole family with you. Their entire purpose for living gone. Sorry again!! I hope you don't feel too overwhelmed and are taking care of yourself, creative minds need rest and care!! Be safe blue! 🩵💙

i loved this so much :(((<33 i love seeing how people think about my characters. I really think you captured them well!!

i really understand that you want twins :)<3 i really want twins too. I wish I had a twin, but it's a bit too late for that, so having twins would be very sweet too. I love the feeling of knowing that my child has a best friend in all circumstances. I myself is the youngest of five children (where the others are all boys) and much older than me. I'd love to have someone like that <3

I think that all of them would become more and more protective whether they want to admit it or not (cough jerry cough) and would be even more suffocating ... escpecially if they can't find you right away >:)

[fiddlepies]

grief and absurdity

it's been just under a month since i beat P3R and i've had some time to distill my thoughts on it, because there's something about it that just really resonates with me, particularly post-october, and i'd like to write about it. this is kind of personal but i want to share it anyway. cw for parental death

six months ago my mother passed away, and a month after that i moved out on my own and started university. i started making tons of new friends and spending time with them and going to clubs and events. but despite that, one of the biggest struggles i had in that period of change and adjustment was isolation. something that kept coming up in grief counselling was how disconnected i felt from my new life, because i had this horrific life event and all these complicated emotions and mourning weighing me down. it felt like when i spent time with my new friends i couldn't engage or connect like i wanted to, because the bereavement was such a big part of me but i couldn't talk about it. i had no idea how to go about opening up to people i've only known for a couple of weeks about something so intense. i felt so awkward and alone, and so pained, but life went on, dragging me behind it

P3R was my first exposure to P3, i knew barely anything about it, but when i was playing through it i really felt like it saw me. obviously the game is all about life and especially death, but the way the actual game flow is constructed just completely represents how i felt in these past months. like shinji's death for instance. it's fucking awful, the worst-case scenario, and you're powerless to do anything as you watch this life you loved disappear forever. you're forever changed.

but you still have to go to school after that. you still have to study for your exams. you have to meet people and spend time with them, even when they have no idea the depths of what's actually going on. you want to tell them but they could never understand. a cycle of doing your best to be fine in the day while the memories catch up with you at night. it's completely absurd, going back to a 'normal' daily life while carrying such a burden. but you have to do it, don't you?

that's what i felt like. when i spent the day as the MC in class, maybe seeing someone after school, and then returning back to a somber dorm, where personal reality sets in... that's exactly how i felt every night for weeks. i still do. it's fucking bizarre.

but you know, i wasn't completely alone. even though the people i surrounded myself day to day in class didn't understand, i had people who did understand. my friends who knew me before everything happened, who were there for me at the crux of it. i have still have a family who loves me. that's what i saw in SEES after shinji's death. friends and allies that truly do understand and share in your pain. going back to the dorm every day and seeing everyone's faces hurt, but it hurt in a way that wasn't lonely. it was comforting, knowing none of them would be alone in this. one of the moments that really solidified SEES as a family to me.

and mitsuru's father's death, god. the week where she was absent due to funeral and inheritance preparations hit me especially hard. since i lost a parent too, i had to be part of the same processes. luckily nowhere near the extent she had to, being the sole benefactor and organiser, but my heart just ached for her because i knew what that felt like. it doesn't feel fair, you feel way too young to be losing someone like this... but you have to do it. you have to.

i don't really know how to end this. but it's been on my mind for a while and i wanted to share my impressions... maybe someone else feels similarly. if you read all of this, thank you. make sure to tell people you love them 💛

[sparklymuses]

hey everyone, been a while. i hope you're all well and doing what you love. i think it's finally time i had a talk about why i'm never really here. it's not anything serious in real life, it's just a personal reason to me.

my absence isn't only out of no motivation and why i've yet to really respond to most of anything sent to me.

i like being here, i like writing my favourite characters, and i like thinking up scenarios for ones that didn't get as much spotlight as the main cast did. i did it from my childhood and i still fantasize about it here. the people i met from a website that was described back in the day as ❛ hell on earth ❜ ( or modern day twitter ) ended up being a very pleasant place. however, i've feel more disconnected from it and i don't think i really knew why or just didn't want to acknowledge it.

the reason why i liked roleplaying with friends was a sense of community. to connect with one another to share your love for the subjects or just play with your characters as if they were action figures with other kids. it made everything worth it to me. i didn't really grow up with many friends, so this felt like an escape.

when i got older and moved to such a larger site like deviantart or here, i made a few friends here but that's when i started having burnout. not just from life, but from a sense that something was different that didn't capture the feeling from before.

i was lonely.

the people i met were great, we had good times, good laughs, and then they were gone the next.

the people i met were wonderful, happy, and very expressive. but not having a strong connection or a group to be with. i've gotten used to discord and found a group that i kept going on with for hours, weeks, months ... and then it was gone. and i realized how empty it was after.

despite the good times i had, at the end - all i had was the silence. with the silence did come good memories to look back on, but the more i began to wonder how different it would all be if i just reached out to the ones i wanted to be friends with. to put down my guard and finally just lend out a hand.

of course it's easy to not forget to be cautious, especially on this day and age of what kind of people can be behind a screen, but being protective shouldn't come at this cost of being isolated. it's no better than a prison.

not every friend comes with a group, or a long winded explanation from childhood. sometimes it's just a nice person you meet on the streets, cafe, or internet forum. it doesn't have to keep a deep meaning or last forever, sometimes it's just beautiful as is.

maybe sometime i'll go back to it all again, but maybe sometimes it'll be long inactive periods like this. my biggest regret wasn't writing more, it was not telling people that i loved being around them.

this isn't goodbye, but i wanted to finally sit down and explain it all. maybe even give the few people who read this some self reflection and give them the push to really be friends with one another.

thank you all for listening, writing, and being with me. i hope to talk with you all soon. have a great day or night.

love those who call you their friend.

[doberbutts]

Hope this isn't a weird thing to say but thank you for articulating your feelings on the "why would trans men want to be cis" ask, since mine are similar, and I've been feeling a bit alienated by how commonplace it became to either be bewildered by or outright mock trans guys who have a less positive and more stereotypical experience. It's been making me feel extremely lonely and kind of guilty. So it's nice to see someone express some things I'm scared of talking about.

Honestly I really don't know what's happened to trans social media. It's always been a bit of a shitshow and a train wreck but it just seems like nowadays we're so disconnected across generations rather than weaving our interconnected lives together and recognizing that with changing attitudes and culture comes generational changed approaches to trans-ness.

The trans woman who mentored me had such a compelling story, that nowadays I feel if she had her story played out as a movie people would consider her very character transphobic and transmisogynistic. But she's real, that's her life, her past and her present and her future, and she existed during a time that many my age can barely remember and those younger than us can barely comprehend. That was just how trans people existed back then.

And I personally harp on this every pride with my own experience. It took me until 2014 for me to see a trans man in mainstream media. I could go and deliberately seek out LGBT media and find one, sure, but just out there in the wild on a game that I'd bought? On a wildly popular franchise that most people had at least heard of if not played? Seeing him explain who and what he was, was amazing to me. I wish it'd come before I turned 22.

We still have a long way to go, but now there's nonbinary characters on cartoon network and lesbian weddings and gay kisses on nick. Disney announced their first homosexual couple scene or character every couple of months. I accepted, when I decided I wanted to transition, that once I changed my gender marker that I wouldn't be able to get married. Now I can, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it, because I'd made my peace with marriage being a probable impossibility.

My mentor wrote a letter for me that I will never need, to prove that I really am transgender. Instead I walk into a gender clinic and walk out with a new testosterone prescription and a 6-month 12-month plan for top surgery and a hysto.

Transitioning means something different to me than it does to people only a few years younger. To some of them, my life, my perception, my reality is transphobic and misogynistic. I've been told that to my face. I've been blocked over it. I've been harassed over it.

But it doesn't change anything. I'm a binary trans guy who wishes he was cis, who if I thought I could go stealth and actually succeed I would in a heartbeat, and I'm only open about it because I don't think it's possible for me to not be. None of that is shameful. That's just what being transgender looks like to me.

[blonkk]

feeling healthy. classic friday night crying unexpectedly because it just occurred to me that im almost 30 and ive spent the last 3 days alone with no one to talk to. im just in bed watching the simpsons wishing i had someone with me just to fucking watch the simpsons or stupid youtube comps. i’ve been seething because my roommate left days ago without telling me and he hasn’t cleaned a thing since i moved in so i’ve spent the past 2 days scrubbing the place clean which makes me resentful. he also left his aging dog here and she drives me insane and i didn’t sign up to be a dog owner but here we are. should i let her starve and shit in the house or do i just do the right thing and make sure shes fed. let her out when she screams at the door at all hours of the day night and morning. its been raining but stopped today so i left the house and spent 50$ on nothing and i still dont have a job and i just have to come up with new ways to spend my time with nothing to do no money no one to talk do on this shithole hill

like when you’re young and optimistic and idealistic you never think that sad loser is gonna be you. like no way i’m gonna be a sad friendless lonely freak of nature. no way im gonna be broke and jobless near 30.

and it just creeps up and like i’d do anything to get out of this but i just fail and fail and fail and i can’t find a way out. everything is just closing in on me rn. and if i go home to my parents i wont need to worry as much about money for the time being but what kind of back peddling is that….i spent my entire 20s working up the courage to move out completely and again im failing. i can’t go home anyways because believe it or not my situation is every worse there

and my parents are so scared for me…like they won’t say it but they’re ashamed and disappointed and they pity me which is honestly worse than anything else….i don’t want them to help me out of pity it feels like no one believes in me at all

which makes sense lol i don’t believe in myself either….i don’t excel at anything…..i can’t even get an entry level job in my field where i have experience…i can’t monetize anything else i do because im just not a very skilled person and its not self pity, or maybe it is, but like no one cares about art or whatever it is i like to do.

like i’ve felt like i’ve been fading away for a few years now as friends and family moved onto bigger and better and it’s just getting worse as time goes on…i don’t know what i want i’ve never known and it doesn’t even matter because i’ve never gotten anything i’ve wanted anyways. i just want to not be lonely. it’s so simple

i just want to disconnect from everyone and everything because i’m so beaten down by rejection and failure and isolation and despite good things these bad things compound and im so exhausted i don’t even care about what happens to me anymore

it’s so weird being this person you know people pity…that the worst part

i’m tying….i go outside…i exercise…i engage with my hobbies….i haven’t shut out my friends….i keep applying for work even though i feel this feeling of dread and know it wont go anywhere …i haven’t given up yet but im not really under any illusions that things will “get better” anymore

anyways i’m sorry for the boo hoo wah woe is me wahhhh moment im just so sick and tired of this relentless shit

[captainsourwolf]

I feel like I’m not worth anybody’s time. The fact this is happening for the third time? Just makes it so much worse. This whole situation has made me feel so incredibly lonely and worthless. They’re all over social media talking to people and I’m still here trying to figure out what I did wrong. Like. I don’t understand what it is I keep doing wrong, I try so hard to be good enough and be a good friend to people.

I fully understand that sometimes things happen that make us want to disconnect or just disappear, it’s happened to be plenty of times; but I still made sure to check in with anybody that might be wondering (they weren’t but I still did it). But what about the people that are being abandoned because of this? How else am I supposed to feel? I can understand a couple of days without letting anyone know what’s going on or anything, but 2 whole months of NOTHING while still talking to people online? Or like the person before this, talked every day with her for a YEAR and she just left. And before that, 5 years of friendship and they just left. The 2 things they all have in common? They’re still posting/interacting on social media, and it was online friendships because of fandoms. I have never been spoken to again, given any kind of explanation, not even a “I’m alive in case you’re wondering.”

I truly don’t know why I let myself get into anything with this person. We only knew each other because of the Rhett & Link fandom, and then Loki/Tom Hiddleston. I was skeptical at first, but then the first time they left me hanging for days with no communication I had a gut feeling I should just end it all then. And now look at me.

[wsdalt]

You are like a hero for the felpac nation, I love them sm<33

Well, celltw too cuz you are one of the few people I can count to find something that isn't like, yknow, because gosh, MOST OF THINGS ON AO3 ABOUT THEM ARE SMUT

I love them but finding anything about them is kinda hard sometimes, without smut even harder

Also, I love that early qsmp vampire cellbit fic of yours, they are so sweet

That's like a comfort fic to me

I need them to heal and to be happy and-

And also, ur really carrying the brazilian polycue enjoyers in my opinion

Choose a single ship? WRONG, put them in a weird queerplatonic polycue

Also, one of the things I love in... Imma just call it death wish fic cuz I never remember the whole thing, is that Cell and Felps relationship is just so... ambiguous, I think you talked about this before, but I love it so much. They are friends, but also not-quite-boyfriends, and I love their dynamic

Ambiguous relationship how I love these

Also I can not enfatize enough how much I love how you write Felps, reading him from other POVs is one thing, we don't know what's exactly going on in his mind, he's Felps, he's just like that

But you manage get that feeling so well, he's so out of touch with reality and other people even with his own body, but at the same time he's so painfully human, but also in a way it looks like he doesn't quite feel like it, he cares, he loves, and he's lonely

He just accepts the things that Cell does and is so chill about it. He doesn't know those people, and he doesn't care and sometimes it feels like he can't make himself do so, but he also gets attached, he cares about Pac and Mike because he has come to know them, to understand them, to feel some connection with someone other than Cell

He feels so far from humanity at the same time he is so undeniably human and I think that's beautiful

He's something for sure, and he himself doesn't know exactly what. He's a saint, and yet he seems so far from holiness. He's lonely, and he's so disconnected with other people. He's a saint, and he doesn't know how it happened. That's what he used to want? What does that even mean?

This makes me think of that post about ascending to godhood and what you lose with it

Anyway, I love him<3

- 💜

thank you so much \o/!!! every day the felpac ao3 tag gets closer to having two pages and i intended to help it get there as much as i can!

i've been talking about celltw in dms recently and i think they have a very long road of healing in front of them, but i believe they'll make it there \o/ it would be interesting to write a fic about but… i already have so much on my plate right now so unless spontaneous motivation wills it, it's not going to happen any time soon if at all

i love the brazilian polycule \o/!! such a mess… but very sweet!

okay i'll put the rest under a cut for length oops (also sorry again for responding so late, i just like to respond to things like this on my laptop)

death wish is fine pfft i know which one you mean. cellbit and felps' relationship is very interesting to me! regarding canon, it never really read as romantic to me, but definitely something ambiguous. i love writing ambiguous relationships \o/

(to be honest: in that fic i'm mostly writing it as a qpr with cellbit having an unrequited romantic crush on felps--this is only if i had to put it into words, but i don't think they would put it into words and the crush has never been the important part of their relationship in cellbit's eyes anyway. it's more like… flavour, i suppose. first and foremost they are best friends. this is just how i write it, though. i think it's ambiguous enough people can have their own interpretations \o/! also speaking of them: i have to recommend a fic i read recently )

and again thank you so much for the compliments on how i write felps \o/!! i'm really really glad to hear people enjoy the perspective and my interpretation of him!!

he's lonely!! my god i mean… you've read death wish so you know from my general headcanons that the blackmail wasn't actually anything that would effect him--i think what kept him in that prison with cell for so long is just that he was lonely and cell was his friend…

"He doesn't know those people, and he doesn't care and sometimes it feels like he can't make himself do so," i really like this idea it's very interesting… sometimes he feels how detached he is from the world and he wishes he could care a little more and make those connections outside of just cell but he just… can't. and then yes he meets pac e mike and he gets attached!! and later on he gets a son and that love for his family is the main thing driving him forward!!

(i think what's different about pac e mike is that he was tasked to keep an eye on them, and they decided to try and befriend him to get him off of cell's side and onto theirs. whereas most prisoners who he would've been tasked by cell to keep an eye on probably would not be bold enough to try that and would just try to get away from him)

anyway everything you are saying here is making me feel a lot of emotions…

and yes \o/! i saw that post--saii sent it to me, and i think i reblogged it here and tagged it with felps? it very much feels like him…

i love him too \o/!! thank you again for the kind comments and the ask--it's always delightful to read about/talk about felps \o/!!

[csjwrites]

#1: Keep Fighting

Keep fighting. You're more powerful than you think.

"Your history is in our ancestors, and everything they were has been passed down to you.

As long as you're alive, nothing is ever truly lost."

I was eighteen years old, when I suddenly found my people. When, unexpectedly, my origin, that was not to be spoken of, was presented to me as something to be proud and loud about.

"As long as you're alive..."

My grandmother spoke these words to me one lonely morning, when it was just us. Everyone else was still asleep, and she would sit my the fireplace in the library and smoke while I would keep her company.

We speak about these subjects often, and every time we circle back to the same feelings that have lived in our family for years by now;

That complicated, unexplainable grief that seems to have no reason or end, the feeling of hopelessness and like something is missing. The inability to trust 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, and the overprotective tendencies over family.

Outside of those late nights and early mornings, my family doesn't talk about feelings or anything similar. Even then, talking is hard for grandma. It is to me as well, but I'm learning.

They call it intergenerational trauma. I call it an average Tuesday.

Helplessness.

There's a whole culture and language out there that's supposed to be ours. Yet, I feel so disconnected. I know a mere fraction of all of it. I'm stuck in the gray area, the in-between. I'm not Finnish, so I can't give up, but I don't know anything, so maybe I should.

I wonder quietly how many tears have been shed so I could exist, so I could keep demanding,

See us, hear us, acknowledge that we exist, acknowledge what you've done!

Where's the hope and faith in that?

I imagine myself telling my great-grandmother, who was my age in 1943, that I still have hope, I'm still fighting for my place in the world, and for a moment I believe it myself.

Great-grandmother,

Would you be proud of me? Do you have any reason to be?