#he’s the only person I really like talking to every day or even want to talk to that much as it is

[noxiwrites]

Looking out for you

Summary; Rafe has the best intentions, despite not acting on them in the best way.

Warnings; mentions of sa, use of drugs (weed), angst, arguments, stalking, obsession, Rafe being nice, soft sweet sex with Rafe, fem oral, multiple orgasms.

You’re sat on your bed scrolling through Instagram when your door crashes open, a blinding mess of dirty blonde hair flying into your room.

You know immediately that it’s your brother, as he’s the only one who would fly into your room with no invitation- and your parents were away in Rome for the summer, leaving you and Topper to fend for yourselves.

Topper takes a seat on the edge of your bed, chest heaving like he’s just ran a marathon, cheeks flushed.

You perk an eyebrow, locking your phone and looking over at him. “What do you want Top?”

He raises a finger at you, other hand clasping his chest.

“Cmon Topper, I don’t have all day.”

He gulps, nodding his head before trying to talk.

“So I was at a party with Rafe and I stepped away for one second to answer Rhi’s phone call and when I came back he was fighting with JJ Maybank,” he pauses, swallowing. You sigh, not sure what this has to do with you, until he continues.

“I only overheard the end of the conversation but to sum it up they made a bet, about you. Who could sleep with you first- and I know that’s fucked but you’re my sister and I had to let you know so now you-”

“Wait, what? Fucking what?” You ask, incredulous. He nods his head, sharing the same confused face you’re sure you have.

“I don’t have anymore details, but now you know if either of them try anything.” He looks at you, finally able to breathe properly. “Don’t let them try anything, okay? Rafe is my best friend but he’s not a good guy.”

Your mind is racing with thoughts- JJ Maybank, a name that sounded familiar, but left a small distaste on your tongue. You couldn’t put on where you’d heard it from. And Rafe- Rafe fucking Cameron, your brothers best friend who you were absolutely sure hated you.

“Topper, what the fuck?” Is all you manage, and he nods his head again. “I know, I know it’s fucked and that fucking pogue better stay away otherwise I’ll beat his ass.”

You immediately connect the dots.

“What, as in thee pogue JJ? Sarah Cameron’s pogue friend?”

“Yep.”

When you were friends with Sarah, before she went off to be with those pogues, she had introduced you to them and you could remember one of them acting really weird around you. The more you thought, the more his name sounded familiar. It was the creepy one.

Your mind is racing and you groan, head falling back onto your head board. Men.

“Okay, thank you for letting me know Top. You can leave now.” He looks shocked for a second, before nodding, standing, and leaving your room, shutting the door behind him.

-

The next morning when you wake, and check your phone, you see a text message from your friend, Maddison. She’s invited you to a little shopping spree on the boardwalk, and who are you to say no?

You could do with some shopping.

It’s when you’re getting out of the shower and wrapping your towel around your body that you hear something clink in your room. You know your brother is out on his boat, as he is every Saturday- so who the fuck is in your room?

You grab your hairbrush off your sink, hoping it will suffice enough as a weapon and slowly open your bathroom door.

The person is stood at the other side of your room, back facing away from you as they look out the window.

It doesn’t take you even two seconds to throw the brush at them, it landing square in their back with a large thump, before falling to the floor.

“Get the fuck out! I’ve got more where that came from!” You tell, only hearing a chuckle in response. You recognise it from somewhere, but don’t put the voice to the face until they turn around.

Rafe Cameron.

“No because what the fuck are you doing in my room you freak?” You shout, gripping the edge of your towel tighter. He doesn’t move, almost drinking you in while in the towel and you suddenly feel more naked than ever.

You remember what your brother told you last night.

“Hey doll, lovely way to ask me how I am,” he chuckles again, fingers brushing against your bed as he looks up at you.

“No, I will not ask you how you are when you’re in my room without me allowing you to be,” you scoff. “So get the fuck out. Topper is on his boat if you need him.”

He smirks at you, moving around the edge of your bed.

“I’m not here for him, sweetheart. I’m here for you.” He moves closer to you and you take a few steps back into your bathroom.

“Look, I know about your stupid little bet with that creepy pogue. I want nothing to do with either of you so leave.” You tell him, voice faltering as he steps close enough to touch you.

Yes, Rafe Cameron was incredibly attractive. Beyond attractive. But that did not change the fact that you thought he was an absolute psychopath, him being in your room all the proof you needed.

“I’m not going anywhere until I explain to you. I knew Topper would run his mouth without telling you what actually happened.”

What actually happened? What could he possibly mean by that? When he made a bet about sleeping with you.

“How about you get dressed so I’m not so distracted and then I can tell you, yeah?”

You can’t lie to yourself, you’re intrigued. There’s a little tingle between your legs by the way he says he’s distracted by you but it disappears the second you remind yourself about the bet. You slowly nod your head and disappear behind the bathroom door, grabbing your dressing gown to cover yourself with.

Rafe is sat on your bed, mindlessly zoned out as he waits for you. You stand at the edge of it, arms crossed over your chest. “Explain.”

He smirks up at you, still eying you up despite the more covered choice of clothing.

“JJ Maybank has a very unhealthy obsession with you. To the point where I’m concerned for you. He’s a weirdo. He said he’s gonna be fucking you soon and you’ve been flirting with him.” You’re lost for words.

“I’ve never even spoken to him.” You say, voice small. You knew he was creepy but you didn’t think it went this far.

Rafe nods his head. “I told him to shut the fuck up because you’d never date anyone like him and that when he made this bet, and I agreed. I figured I’d come speak to you and get you to pretend we’ve had sex so he leaves you alone but topper got here first and ran his mouth.”

“We’ll, thank you Rafe but I can manage myself.” You say, holding your chin high.

He chuckles, again. “I don’t doubt that princess. He’s unhinged, that’s your issue.”

Your phone pings and you look down at it, to see that Madison has text you saying she’ll be setting off for you in five minutes.

You sigh. “Look, I’ve got plans. Can you just go? I really can’t be bothered with whatever you’re spewing and I’m not stupid. I won’t sleep with either of you.” He nods his head, jaw clenching and unclenching as he stands from your bed.

He towers way over you, one of his hands coming up to grip your chin. “You need to be careful, doll.” You immediately slap him away.

“Get the fuck out of my house. The only time you’re welcome here is if you’re with Topper.” His jaw is clenched again and he nods, pushing his hands into his pockets and walking out without saying another word.

Fucking hell. You grown out loud, hand coming up to run over your face. Fucking men.

-

“He said what?” Madi exclaims, almost knocking over her cocktail in the process of disbelief. You nod your head, taking a sip from your own as you lean closer to hear her in the crowded bar.

“It’s insane, isn’t it? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it myself,” you sigh, eyes searching the bar. It’s crowded, Friday night drinkers out in full force. You think you see a flash of messy blonde darting through the flocks of people, but the thought leaves your mind before it can even form.

“I mean, if Rafe Cameron were wanting to fuck me I wouldn’t say no,” madi giggles and you roll your eyes at her, wooing over someone who just isn’t that great.

“It’s not just that though Mad, it’s like he has some perverted older brother watch on me, as if he feels the need to fight my battles for me- and he’s yucky anyway. He’s slept with half the cut,”

Madi giggles again, twirling her straw in her drink. “Speaking of,” she blushes cherry and you follow her eyes to see Rafe stood at the bar, mouth moving but eyes locked on you. Your brother stands next to him, completely obvious to where Rafe’s attention actually is. He notices you looking right back at him and waves, cocky smirk on his features. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

Of course he’s here. You’d never admit that Rafe was hot, or that sometimes you had to close your thighs when he did that stupid smirk. No, never. Not even to madi.

“He’s so totally into you.” She gushes, grabbing your hand from across the table. You loved Madison, but sometimes she just didn’t get it. Rafe had been your brothers best friend since you were five, and you knew better than anyone that he was bad news. The more that you thought about it, the more it wound you up.

“Well I’m not into him, or JJ Maybank for the matter. They can both go to hell,” you mutter, seeing that same flash of blonde out of the corner of your eye. You clear your throat, excusing yourself to the toilet.

The bar that you’re in is notorious for having their toilets as far away as possible. It’s like they don’t want you to go. As you’re pushing open the ladies toilet door, something grips your bicep and you yelp, feeling yourself being pulled back.

“Rafe Cameron, really?” You immediately recognise JJ’s voice. It’s gravelly, a hint of anger laced in. “I thought we had something special,” he continues, fingernails gripping your bicep so tight you can feel the bruise already.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to, let me go,” you demand. If there was one thing your dad taught you to do well, it was to defend yourself.

He scoffs, other hand reaching up to grip your chin. You wriggle, trying to escape his grip, to no avail.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, you want me. Why sleep with him when he’s a psycho?” JJ asks, tightening his grip on your chin so you’re no choice but to look at him. You had to give him that, Rafe was a psycho. But not like this.

“You look like you’ve got seven std’s, JJ. I can assure you I do not want anything to do with you,” you snap back, ripping your arm out of his grip when he softens, obviously not expecting you to say that. You finally step back and begin a fast pace down the corridor- not making it very far before he’s grabbing you again.

“You’re so fucking spoilt- but goddamn, it’s hot. I could fuck you right here,” he’s pressing all up against you from behind, whispering in your ear. You grit your teeth and reel forward, hands clawing at his around your arm.

“I’d let go if I were you,” you grit and JJ laughs.

“You gonna slick Rafe on me? I don’t see him here. You’re mine,” he hums, hand sliding down your dress.

“If that had moves an inch you’re more than a dead man.” You hear, looking up to see Rafe Cameron charging towards the two of you. You’re unsure if you’re thankful or not.

“Here he comes, your little guard dog,” JJ huffs in your ear, hand sliding lower. You gather every ounce of strength in you and reel backwards, back of your head smashing into the front of his. JJ cries out, letting go of you and grasping his now bleeding nose.

Rafe looks surprised almost as he pulls you into his side, arm wrapping around your shoulders. This feels different, safer. You’re glad he’s here.

“You broke my nose you bitch,” JJ yells at you, crazy eyes meeting your own. Rafe laughs, almost pitiful at the scene.

“Be lucky I didn’t get my hands on you, Maybank. Now fuck off, before I change my mind.” JJ eyes you both, contemplating before eventually stepping past you.

“This isn’t over,” he comments, before disappearing round the corner. You finally breathe, shoulders wracking and shaking with what you realise are cries. This could have been a lot worse.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” Rafe soothes you, rubbing circles into your back. He pretends not to notice how your dress is almost at your hips as he pulls it down for you.

“I’m just looking out for you, I promise,” he whispers. “You’ve seen what he’s like now. You know I’m just protecting you,”

You nod. You couldn’t imagine what would have happened had he not appeared when he had. You hated to admit it, but you were thankful for him being here afterall.

“Let’s get you home shall we? I’ll get topper to take Madison home.” All you can do is nod, gripping Rafe’s side for dear life as he leads you out of the bar.

-

“Here, we’re home,” rafe squeezes your thigh, where his hand has been the entire drive back to your house. You’re thankful he’s allowed you to sit in silence, you don’t think you’d have the words to talk.

Rafe jumps out of his truck, rushing round to your side to open the passenger door.

“I’m okay, Rafe, honestly. Thank you,” you pull yourself out of the seat, hand searching through your bag for your keys. Rafe follows slightly behind you, waiting for you to unlock the door before standing on the step.

You hesitate in the doorway. You could really do with not being alone right now. You’re not scared, or necessarily wound up over what’s just happened, but you’d appreciate the company. Whether it be Rafe Cameron or not.

“Do you wanna stay?” You rush out, turning to face him. He’s leaning against the doorframe in what you now notice as a blue knit sweater and some black pants, all of which fit him perfectly.

“Don’t have to ask me twice doll.” He grins, hand reaching out to squeeze your hip. It’s a nice feeling, and the blush on your cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe as he uses the grip on your hip to slide himself past you into the house.

You shut the door, locking it while thinking to yourself. You’re not sure if you’ll regret this or not, but that’s a problem for later.

“I’m gonna go get a bath I think, but you can make yourself at home in my room while I do,” you tell him, waking up the stairs. Rafe’s quick on your heels, constantly keeping close to you. You open your door to your room, flicking your lamp on that illuminates the room in a soft pink hue.

Rafe immediately kicks his shoes off and plops ontop of your sheets, grabbing the remote for your tv like he’s been here millions of times before. It feels comfortable, not a single ounce of awkwardness between the two of you. You kick your heels off and walk around to the other side of the bed, opening the bedside drawer. You reach in, taking a grinder and little tube of weed out.

Rafe whistles. “Who would’ve thought?” You raise an eyebrow, dropping some of the nuggets into your grinder and reaching into the draw for some papers.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you,” rafe grins at you as you giggle, rolling the weed into the paper and using your tongue to stick it down. You think Rafe is watching you in awe, but you’re not sure.

You finish off the joint, putting all the supplies back into the drawer and reaching for your lighter before shutting the drawer.

“Do you want some?” You ask, standing up and walking to your balcony door. Rafe nods and follows, taking a seat on the chair next to you. You spark the joint and take a long puff, sinking down into the chair.

You twirl the joint inbetween your fingers before offering it to Rafe, who takes it between his lips and takes a puff.

“What happened to the bath?” He asks, taking another puff before passing it back to you. You shrug.

“I remembered I had weed and that’s better.”

“Can’t argue,” Rafe responds, watching as your lips wrap around the joint. You can immediately feel it, all thanks to your dealer getting the best stuff.

“That was crazy,” you suddenly say, thinking out loud. Rafe agrees as you pass him the joint again, taking another puff. “Like? You said he was crazy but I wasn’t expecting that. Thank you for being there.” You ramble, grabbing the joint from him and taking another puff.

“He genuinely thought we were together you know,” you tell Rafe, passing him the joint again. It’s almost already gone.

“I told him that we were,” rafe says, handing you it back. “You can finish it sweetheart,”

“You told him we were together? I thought-” you stop mid sentence, unable to form any thoughts.

“I told him that so he’d back off. Obviously didn’t work, he’s lucky I wasn’t there sooner.” You can hear the anger in his voice. You take a final puff of the joint, dabbing it out on the table before flicking the end somewhere off the balcony.

You narrow your eyes, turning to Rafe. “Why do you care so much?” He turns to you, lax as anything as he speaks.

“Because I do, always have. I wish you’d believe me when I say so because I’m not lying. I care about you a lot.”

Your mind is running a thousand miles, unable to stop. “But you’re an arsehole,”

Rafe grins. “Ouch, that hurt, princess.” You clench your thighs together. He certainly has a way with words.

“You are though- you’ve never been nice to me,” you pout, resting your chin on your hand.

“Because I was scared.” He sighs, looking out at the night sky.

“Scared of what?” You ask, oblivious. If you weren’t high, it would’ve hit you like a ton of bricks by now.

Rafe laughs. “Scared of my feelings for you.” Oh. OH.

It’s like the brakes have finally begun to work. The car you’ve been driving skids to a halt, and it all finally makes sense. Rafe likes you.

Rafe Cameron likes you.

“I just can’t control myself around you, princess. I kept my distance in the beginning because I wasn’t a good person but I’ve changed. I can manage to be near you now without wanting to bend you over something for my own selfish reasons.” Your mouth is agape. Rafe finally looks at you.

“JJ Maybank claiming to have fucked the girl I’m so passionate about pissed me off. I wanted to rip his head off his shoulders. I thought telling him we’d fucked would be enough to keep him away.” There’s a pool of your arousal building in your panties, hearing him talk about you like this. If he’d have taken one look into the thoughts you’d had of him this would’ve been a different story a long time ago.

“I don’t want to fuck you for my own sake. I’ve been a selfish man in the past, but I do care about you. I wish you’d let me show you.” There’s a note in his tome that makes you realise he’s sincere.

You eventually find your voice. “Show me.”

Rafe’s eyes meet your own. “What?“

“Show me Rafe. I mean it.”

He’s leaning over the table in less than a second, grasping your head between his hands and capturing your mouth in a kiss. One of his thumbs swiped over your cheek and you let out a whimper, Rafe pulling the both of you up to stumble together on the balcony.

His lips leave yours and wander down your neck, hands wrapping round you and lifting you onto the table. You gasp, hands gripping his shoulders as he kisses down your neck.

“You’re on my mind all the time,” rafe whispers through kisses, working his way back up to your lips. He pulls you into a kiss again, pushing himself between your open legs. You feel his bulge press against your now weeping heat and you moan into his mouth, a sound he swallows right up. You’re slowly grinding against him, hands searching all over his back and his hand push your dress up over the curve of your thighs.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes drinking in every part of you. You’re thankful you decided to put your pink panties on today, as he seems specially transfixed on them and one of his fingers lingers at the edge.

“May I?” He asks, eyes searching yours. You nod, but that’s not enough for Rafe. He grips your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Words, princess, cmon.” You about cream just from his words.

“Please touch me Rafe,” you whimper, finding your voice. Rafe grins, hand lingering at the edge of your panties finally pulling them to the side to look at your cunt. His fingers toy with the edge of your panties, before slowly pushing through your folds with intent.

It’s so dirty, on your balcony where anyone could hear. “All wet, just for me huh? Seems like you wanted this too yeah?” He tells you, holding your chin down so you can watch his ministrations on you. It’s down right wrong, how hot this feels right now. You can feel yourself dripping onto his fingers as he pushes a solo digit into your hole, groaning as he does.

You reach forward to palm him through his pants but he stops you. “Ah, this is about you. I don’t give a shit about myself right now.” He slips another finger in, setting a steady pace as his lips find yours.

You find yourself grinding on his fingers, listening to the small bouts of praise Rafe gives you and the way his fingers set a faster pace.

“It feels so fucking good,” you moan, writhing ontop of the table. Rafe moves his thumb to circle your clit and it’s over for you, crying out as you spill onto his hand and relax onto his shoulder for support.

“Cmon doll, I wanna taste,” Rafe tells you, lifting you from the table and taking you inside. There’s some shitty reality tv playing in the background but you don’t care for it much as Rafe lowers you onto your bed, pushing your dress further up and pulling your panties down, throwing them somewhere in the room.

He wastes no time, lowering himself down to your still sopping cunt and diving straight in. You feel him everywhere all at once, hands darting down to his head in an effort to grip something.

You feel one of his long fingers prodding at your hole again and you welcome it with a whimper, nails scratching his head.

“You’re so fucking sweet, could stay here for hours,” you clench around his fingers and Rafe smirks.

“You like when I talk baby? Good girl, so wet for me.” He coos, lips attatching to your clit once more. You cry out, squirming as he gives you everything like he’s known your body for years. His free hand reaches up and pulls down your dress, grasping your nipple.

“Rafe, I’m so close,” you whine, thighs locking around his head. He slurps, pushing another finger into your cunt.

“Give it to me sweet girl, cmon. Make a mess for me.” He demands, curling his fingers inside you and it’s over again, your high crashing like a wave over you and Rafe takes everything you’re giving him.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he praises you as he comes up, nose, mouth and chin covered in your slick. You’re aware that the weed is heightening your senses, but you had no doubt that Rafe knew what he was doing.

“You think you can give me more?” He asks, fingers still toying with your cunt. You nod, absentmindedly- fucked from just the first two.

“Ah, cmon, use your words doll,” he’s hovering above you, eyes searching yours.

“Please Rafe, please fuck me.” He grins, hand leaving you as he goes for the belt on his jeans.

“Take your dress off for me sweetheart,” he tells you and you do as you’re told, revealing your pink lacy bra. “That too,” he points to it and you reach behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing it somewhere in the room.

When Rafe frees himself from his boxers, you’re shocked. He’s large. Massive even.

“Lay back for me, just like that. Good girl.” He praises you, hands all over your body Ashe captures your mouth in another kiss. You feel his tip push into your hole and you gasp, legs trying to close.

“Cmon sweetheart, let me take care of you yeah? Make you feel good.” Rafe grips the base of his cock as you open your legs, allowing him to slide in. You gasp, never having felt this full before. Rafe chuckles like he knows, and gives you a second before he begins a slow pace.

It’s so much. You can’t keep quiet, especially when Rafe puts his thumb on your clit again and begins whispering into your ear.

“So fucking tight, so good for me aren’t you,” you moan, whimpering yes back as he continues to fuck you starry.

“M’not gonna last long,” you cry, gripping his bicep. He nods, drawing tighter circles on your clit. It makes you mewl out, nails scraping down his back. Rafe groans, punctuating his thrust as you do.

“You’re all mine now, I’m gonna make sure you’re always looked after. Fuck, you feel so fucking good, cum for me.” He demands, and his words bring you right there. His next thrust is angled just right and you whine out, pussy clenching around his dick in a way that makes Rafe see stars.

It’s like you were made for him.

“Where do you want me to cum sweetheart?” He asks, and through heavy breaths, you tell him.

“Inside. Birth control.” That makes Rafe’s hips stutter, his release painting your walls as he finally stops, keeping his dick inside you. You’re both heaving, and Rafe can feel his cum and your own seeping out of you. He reaches over and grabs your chin, pulling you for a kiss.

“Meant it. You’re mine. Gonna take such good care of you.”

-

More one shots of this ?

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. in the name of you .

in a world where everyone forgot their own religion, it's not wrong for luka to look at your ethereal self and immediately mistake you for a divine being, no?

featuring : luka

cw : female reader, implied stalking(for just a little), luka is obsessed with reader, luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in here for the sake of the story lol🙇‍♀️

a/n : i made a till one, and now i'll make a luka one! i was trying to make it seems as if luka is obsessed with reader, but i was having a hard time showing it, and ended up making it seems like luka had become a better person after meeting reader lmfaoo😭🙏

from the moment humans were taken away forcefully by those disgusting aliens—they all had forgotten about their creators. the one who gave them life, the one who gave them the will to continue living. each day felt like a stab to the heart, it feels as if someone had taken your lungs out of your body, before putting it back inside again.

it feels empty, like a void.

while all the kids run around anakt garden happily, although not genuinely, all luka could do was lean on one of the trees, while holding his knees close to his chest. what can he do? what does people expect him to do? he is a weak child, a child born with diseases, a child unable to live without support from others, including the tree he is currently leaning on. without anything to lean on, to hold on to, what was he supposed to do, weak and dependent as he was?

nothing. he could only weep himself to sleep every day, and it changes nothing. he has heard from the other kids that there is a powerful divine being that could help you in times of distress, how it's called god, how you're supposed to believe in it for it to help you, and he did. luka believed in god for a day, but nothing had changed. his everyday life had remained the same.

like waking up early, even though he doesn't know what time it is because of all the fake painted skies the aliens put in the garden, go eat breakfast with the other kids, with no one else sitting besides—"hey, is this seat occupied?" in the midst of the suffocating silence, a cheerful, almost unreal voice had reached his ears. he had first thought that it was just his imagination, his desperate feelings of wanting to be accompanied by someone. but it wasn't, as the voice echoed in his ears once again.

"uh, hello...? did i catch you on a bad day? i'm so sorry, i'll find another seat then." after what felt like a minute, he finally looked up at the person talking to him, only to notice that they're gone. he clenched his fist in regret. he should've looked up earlier, he should've answered whoever that was, but he didn't. such a shame, he thought to himself.

after half an hour, luka finished his breakfast and was getting ready to leave, before being stopped by someone whose voice was so familiar to him, it almost feels as if he is dreaming. "hey, um... i'm really, really sorry for bothering you earlier. as an apology, i got some bread for you!" that cheerful voice had struck something inside him, his eyes grew wide slightly, and his hand trembles at the sight of you. if he were to believe in the divine, he would immediately get down on his knees and pray for you, an angel.

your soft gaze, your skin that looks almost as delicate and fragile as a glass, and your small fingers offering him the bread you got for him. it took him almost a minute to react, and all that came out of his mouth is just a small gasp, so small that even you can't hear it. "don't tell anyone about this though, but i stole it from someone's unfinished breakfast! so take it, please?" you shoved the bread to his face, which made him raise his eyebrows. but he took it anyway.

he examines the bread carefully, to which you took great offense. "i won't poison you, so there's no need to look at it so intensely!" you pout at him. if you squint your eyes really hard, you can notice the faintest hint of smile on his face, and probably the first time he has ever smile so genuinely.

his everyday routine had consisted of the same, basic thing. but, now that you talked to him, it changed his life forever. it changed his views of the world, of everyone. some kids may have believed in the divine from the moment they were born, but luka just believed in the divine the moment she graced himself with her kindness.

from then on, whenever luka woke up and entered the garden, the first thing—or person he looks for, is you. whenever he went to the cafeteria, the first person he approached is you, and when luka went to his first performance on stage, the first person he looks for in the audience is you, holding a cream-colored lightstick.

whenever luka goes anywhere, the first person he looks for, thought of, and wishes to see first... is you.

his god, his universe.

and if he happens to notice some... imbecile, or other people trying to approach you, he won't hesitate to show them that no one can approach his angel without consequences. no one other than him.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[jockwrites]

selfish - p.b

part: 1

summary: the beginning of “friendship” between you & paige.

warnings: cursing

a/n: hellooooo welcome back to another series, i’m sure this will be fun to write and im excited for you guys to see where this goes!

my eyes drifted across the lecture hall, landing on a familiar face—paige bueckers. obviously, i’d heard so much about the star basketball player, but seeing her in person was different. she was leaning over a textbook, her blonde hair falling forward as she focused intently.

i felt my heart flutter slightly as i took her in. there was something about her demeanor, her strong jawline, and the way her muscles filled out her shirt. i quickly looked away, chiding myself. i kind of forgot i have a boyfriend and what not.

as the lecture began, i found myself sneaking glances at paige every so often. each time, i felt that familiar flutter in my chest. i tried to brush it off as mere admiration for her athletic prowess, but a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that it was more than that. but it can’t be, i have a boyfriend.

after class, i gathered my courage and approached paige as she was packing up her bag. my heart raced as i got closer. “hi, i'm madison. i just wanted tell you i really admire your skills, you know, on the court.”

the voice in the back of my mind was telling me i sounded so very stupid. introducing myself to the paige bueckers? absolutely ridiculous, but worth a shot.

paige looked up and flashed me a warm smile, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners, “hey, thanks! i've seen you around campus. you're in my psych class, right?”

i nodded, feeling a little flustered under her gaze. “yeah, i am,” she stood up and stretched, her arms reaching overhead and making her shirt ride up slightly. i caught a glimpse of her toned stomach and felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch it.

but i can’t be feeling like this. over a girl? no way, i have a boyfriend.

paige's smile lingered as she tucked her book bag over her shoulder. “it's nice to meet you, madison,”she said, her voice low and smooth. “maybe we can study together sometime? psych can be tough.”

i swallowed hard, nodding eagerly. “yeah, that'd be great,” i managed to say. as paige walked away, i watched her retreat, admiring the way she looked with each step. i shook my head, trying to clear it.

what was i doing?

i met up with my boyfriend, jason, later that day. he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and kissing me deeply. usually, his kisses made my heart race, but today, all i could think about was paige. guilt washed all over me.

no girl has ever made me feel this way, ever. i’ve always considered myself straight, maybe bisexual. but the only reason i’d ever consider myself bi is because i’ll think a girl is cute every now and then.

sure, i’ve kissed a few girls, but i never felt anything. i’ve never felt that kind of connection with girls, ever. well—atleast not the feeling i feel with jason. i love jason, he’s my everything, but i can’t help but shake the feeling of how im lowkey simping for a girl.

—

one weekend, paige and i had spent the day together. no studying, just hanging out. we'd gone to the park, lay on the grass, talking and laughing. i'd felt so at ease with her, so comfortable. too comfortable, maybe.

at one point, she'd leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. i'd stiffened at first, surprised. then i'd relaxed, enjoying the warmth of her body against mine. i'd even slipped my arm around her, pulling her closer.

it had felt... nice. too nice. i’ve started to love looking at her mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss her. i'd quickly pushed the thought away, guilt washing over me. i have a boyfriend, i reminded myself sternly. i can't be thinking about kissing paige.

but i couldn't stop thinking about it. days turned into a week, and the memory of that moment in the park lingered. i always remember myself staring at paige's mouth during our study sessions, blushing when she'd catch me looking. i was so confused. it felt so wrong, but so good.

—

weeks passed and i’d continued to steal glances at paige in psych class, my heart fluttering each time. for the past few weeks we’ve hung out, nothing special but it was great. we would go for ice cream, maybe get my favorite—zaxbys, and it would all be good. but genuinely, it’s horrible being around her.

im in a relationship with someone, yet im falling for another person. that person being a girl. i sound fucking stupid.

our professor announced a big project, assigning partners randomly. my heart pounded as the list was read aloud. “madison cooper and paige bueckers,” she called out.

i froze. there is no way she assigned me with the girl call myself liking. paige and i exchanged a surprised look. a slow smile spread across her face, and i felt my knees go weak. as we gathered our things after class, paige approached me. “looks like we're partners, madison.”

“looks like it,” i breathed, my voice barely audible. her nearness made my pulse quicken. we decided to meet at the library that weekend to start on our project. as i left the lecture hall, i felt a mix of excitement and dread.

i have a boyfriend.

—

that weekend, i sat across from paige at a worn wooden table in the library. she was leaning over her laptop, her brow furrowed as she typed. i couldn't help but stare at her strong hands, her broad shoulders, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders.

paige looked up, catching me staring. she smirked slightly. “you okay, madi? you seem a lil… distracted.” i blushed, averting my eyes. “i'm fine, just... thinking about the project.” even to my own ears, the excuse sounded weak.

but that nickname, madi.

i mean—everyone calls me madi. but from paige, her saying it, it sounds heavenly. i don’t want anyone else to ever call me that nickname again now that it’s left paige’s mouth.

—

i notice madison staring at me—a lot, and it makes me feel a strange warmth in my chest. as we worked on our project, i found myself stealing glances at her too, admiring the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way her lips parted slightly as she reads.

i start wondering… wondering what it would be like to kiss those parted lips, to run my fingers through her silky brunette hair. i shook my head slightly, trying to dislodge the thought. madison isn’t my type, i don’t think. i know she’s straight, but i could definitely turn her.

then again, she has a boyfriend.

she’s only mentioned him a few times, talking about their dates, future plans and what not. but honestly, he sounds lame. she mentioned he got her flowers & candy for her birthday, what a loser. like seriously? a girl like her? if it was me, i’d go all out.

as the day went on, i became more aware of the subtle signs madison was giving me. the way her eyes lingered on me, the slight flush of her cheeks, the way she bit her lower lip.

i decided to test the waters. as she passed me a printout, i let my fingers brush against hers. i saw her intake a sharp breath, her eyes darting to mine. her skin is soft, smooth like butter. despite the subtle, small action, i could feel how soft and fragile her skin felt.

“sorry,” i murmured, not pulling away from her touch. her fingers curled around mine, squeezing gently. “it's okay,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible. i felt a jolt of electricity at her touch, her response. i was onto something.

—

paige's fingers brushing against mine sent shivers down my spine. i looked into her eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded away. i felt a strong urge to lean in, to close the distance between us. but then reality hit me like a cold shower.

i have a boyfriend.

i gently pulled my hand away, trying to compose myself. “we should probably focus on the project,” i said, trying to sound normal. i turned back to my laptop, my mind racing. i can't let myself fall for paige, i have to stay loyal to jason or whatever.

but i still don’t understand how im falling so hard for a girl. a girl i just met at that, it sounds alien to me. if you told me 2 months ago i’d be head over heels for this woman, i’d look at you like you needed a straitjacket.

we continued working across from each other, the air thick with tension. i made sure to keep a safe distance, to not let our hands touch again. but being near her was torture. her scent, her presence, the way her voice deepened slightly when she was concentrating... everything about her drew me in.

as the hours passed, i found myself zoning out, my mind wandering to forbidden thoughts. paige's strong arms around me, her lips on mine, her hands exploring my body. i quickly rolled my eyes, trying to clear the images. no, i can't think like this.

i have a boyfriend.

i feel like i’m going insane, there is no way in hell im actually thinking like this. thinking like this about a girl, am i crazy? i think so. but it just sounds so right. i don’t think i’ve ever imagined times like this with jason though.

i mean, we did have sex a few times. but when i met him, i didn’t think like that— it was more of an emotional connection. i wasn’t immediately thinking about what his lips would feel like on mine.

paige seemed to pick up on the change though. she didn't bring up the touch again, didn't act the way she was acting earlier. we worked in near silence, the tension between us palpable but unspoken. as we finished up for the day, i felt a mix of relief and despair.

“not gon’ lie, i didn’t expect you to be this smart,” paige remarked, laughing softly as we packed up. “yeah, i try my best in academics,” i agreed softly. she smiled at me, and i felt my heart ache. why does it have to be her? why do i have to be taken?

“same time next weekend?” she asked. i hesitated for a moment. being around her was torture, but it was a torture i craved. “yeah,” i heard myself say. “same time next week.”

as i walked home, my mind was in turmoil. i knew i should end things with jason, that my heart wasn't in it anymore. but the thought of hurting him, of disappointing my family, held me back. i buried my face in my hands, a frustrated groan escaping my lips.

and no, im not trying to end things because of paige, thats silly—this thought weighed heavy on my mind for months. i mean, very good guy, but things just haven’t been the same. paige, she’s just the cherry on top.

i found myself in an impossible situation. i was falling for paige, but i was committed to someone else. i couldn't keep stringing jason along, not when my heart barely belonged to him.

here’s the situation: me and my boyfriend are falling apart, i’m falling for a girl, and my life is in shambles. sounds crazy right? yeah, i know.

i spent the rest of the week distracted, snapping at jason when he'd try to talk to me, zoning out during family dinners. but can you blame me? my situation is shit. i feel horrible, horrible for doing this to my boyfriend, horrible for falling for this girl.

my mom noticed, pulling me aside one evening. “madison, talk to me,” she said softly. “something's on your mind.” i hesitated. i wanted to confide in her, to tell her about paige, about my conflicted feelings. but i was scared. scared of her reaction, scared of what would happen next. so i chickened out. “it's nothing, mom.”

she searched my face, concern etched on her own. “madison, you can talk to me, you know. whatever it is, we'll figure it out together.” her voice was gentle, encouraging. but i just shook my head, pushing past her to retreat to my room.

alone in my room, i curled up on my bed, hugging a pillow to my chest. all my thoughts weighed down on me like a brick as i realized the mess i was in. i was torn between duty and desire, between what was right and what felt right. and i had no idea how to fix it.

this is the reality of being a girl i guess— or being a girl liking another girl. i’m a mess. i barely know her, it’s only been about a month or two, and they’ve been great, i can say that. but i just don’t get what’s wrong with me. what kind of phase am i going through?

i guess time will tell sooner or later.

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: it's monday! and fake joe's here for you! he's... not exactly the best, for which i apologise, but, he's all for you, so please, enjoy him fictionally and respect him privately (too much to ask? i hope not?) ok great talk everyone, love you <33 xo

Wordcount: 6.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Four days of silence.

Four days of not looking each other in the eye. Of no physical touch. Of not saying a single fucking word.

You moved around each other in a shared space until you had the thought that you were probably better off avoiding each other completely for a little while.

Joe was convinced he had every right to wait for an apology before he’d speak to you again. You, however, obviously heavily disagreed.

You had just been honest.

Joe had asked for you to be honest and so, you had been, but apparently, you’d done it wrong.

It started with an evening of not speaking after an outburst. A silent night routine where you completely avoided one another. Acted like the other person wasn’t even there. You’d thought then that you’d speak in the morning. That you’d talk things out after getting some sleep, because maybe that was the problem.

You slept with your backs facing each other and dreamed of better moods in the morning.

But then the next morning, Joe had gotten up and only made one coffee.

One singular cup of coffee.

He drank it at the kitchen table, looked at you all bitterly like a disappointed parent would look at their child who was ruining their potential, and then left the empty cup there for you to grow even more annoyed at. More than you already were.

That one evening of silence had slowly turned into four days.

You bit your tongue, though. Kept quiet, because Joe did too. Stored the annoyance away. Swept it under the rug, and even though this metaphoric rug was starting to look really lumpy, you pretended you could walk over it fine still.

You then also ignored that this is precisely what the fight had been about. About you shutting up about all the little things that annoyed you. All the small things that didn’t feel worth the effort to say anything about in the moment, because you didn’t want to be a nag.

Things built with you.

Being bothersome was your worst nightmare, so you wouldn’t say anything for ages until then suddenly, on a random afternoon, a teeny tiny drop made the bucket overflow and you’d fall apart at something so stupidly insignificant which would take everyone by surprise.

Would take Joe by surprise.

And it made sense that Joe’s first reaction to your fire would be to light his own. You’d snap and shout, so Joe’d snap and shout right back.

“Babe, you never fucking communicate! It’s always– I’m always guessing with you! Just tell me when something upsets you!”

“I am!”

“Yea now you are! But you’re telling me about shit I said three months ago! What do you want me to change about something I did three months ago?!”

“I don’t want you to change anything– my God! You asked me what’s wrong, so I’m telling you what’s wrong!”

It was always the same fight. And usually, you’d end up saying something so stupid to your own ears it would break the tension and make you laugh. It’d be easy to apologise in those moments, because you knew this was on you, and the warmth coming off of Joe as he’d turn soft at your laughter would always sort of fix things.

“Stop being so silly,” he’d say as he’d hug you. As he’d kiss you on the cheek until your embarrassed grimace, aimed fully at yourself, disappeared.

“Got some moaning left in there?” he’d ask, tapping the side of your head with a finger, making you giggle despite yourself. “Want to go shout into the air from the balcony? Since you’re here now, this is the time to get all of it out.”

That was how it usually went.

And he was right; you could definitely communicate better. Express feelings in the moment rather than hold on to all the negative shit for ages.

Easier said than done, but at least you were aware that you had to stop saving things for another day.  

This time the fight had been different though. There was no eventual humour slipping through any cracks. No secret smiles hidden from each other until you stopped being able to conceal them. No apologies. Zero kind words. Just… anger. And silence.

Joe was waiting for you to break first. For your wrath to turn into something a little softer that he could mould into something more to his liking.

And you were waiting because Joe was waiting. Simple as that.

It didn’t feel fair that every time you’d share negative feelings, Joe would end up calling you silly.

It didn’t feel fair that Joe never apologised for anything.

It didn’t feel fair that, just because you were quiet for a moment as you collected your thoughts, Joe spat, “Silent treatment? All right.” at you.

Four days.

Four days of Joe making a morning coffee just for himself, actively choosing to ignore, and therefore, hurt you.

Four days of his lone empty coffee cup left on the table, which you then didn’t clean, because why the fuck would you, but the sight of it was eating you alive.

You spent four days witnessing petty, childish behaviour from the man who you started believing you needed some space from. A little breathing room. Just until he’d miss you enough to reach out and say sorry, you know?

You wondered if he was thinking the same.

If the silence was also letting his mind wander into those same dark corners yours was exploring.

But then, Joe broke it.

A glass of wine on that fourth night broke it.

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but… it felt like one. You decided it was an apology.

You were sitting on the sofa, tapping away on your phone, talking to Emily about your stupid boyfriend, and she was a good friend, made fun of him effortlessly which really did a good job of making you feel better.

Then, Joe placed a glass of wine down on the coffee table in front of you.

It didn’t fully register at first.

You saw the glass, but assumed it was Joe’s wine that he poured for just himself, and if you were going to want some, you’d have to go and fetch you own.

Mid-typing out a message to Emily about it, you felt Joe sit down next to you, and when you chanced a quick glance, you saw that he was holding a glass of wine himself as he got comfortable and turned on the TV.

Slowly, your phone lowered into your lap, and you stared at that glass of red wine on the table for a moment.

Without warning, your eyes welled up.

He poured that for you.

In the effort to not let Joe notice how this gesture hit you right in the gut, you held your breath until you were shaking, and then a heaving sob burst out of you.

Shit.

You shattered.

Split right down the middle, and burst into pieces with such vigour, you surprised yourself, but surprised Joe more.

He had expected you to pick up the glass and empty it in the sink, or whatever.

Four days was much longer than he thought you’d let this go on for.

His girlfriend was stubborn – he knew that. But four days? Four days was a really fucking long time. And, apparently, four days was long enough for a simple glass of red supermarket wine to make you cry.

The astonishment rendered Joe useless for a moment.

He just looked at you for a moment as you sat with your phone in your lap, head dropped down, and your face covered by both your hands.

This was really fucking embarrassing.

Your legs felt the want to escape the situation before your mind got the chance to catch up. You were up on your feet and wanted to bolt it to the bedroom when you heard Joe put his glass of wine down.

You hadn’t even taken two steps before you got taken hold of by an arm. Pulled into a chest. Held firmly into place.

Going from four days of moving around each other like you didn’t exist to one another, to the very sudden tightest hug you’d received in ages was a lot.

And then Joe placed a hand on the back of your neck and squeezed you gently, making you fucking bawl.

No one apologised.

No one said a word, actually.

But you took whatever that glass of wine was as enough of an olive branch to let yourself be hugged.

Be shushed quietly.

Be gently kissed and softly touched.  

It shouldn’t have counted as an apology, but you’d taken it as one, and Joe had conveniently let you.

Saturday night.

You’re out.

Alone.

You know Emily would have come if you had asked her to, but you hadn’t, because she would’ve likely asked a bunch of questions you didn’t want to answer.

“Where are we going?” “That’s not where we usually go...” “Why are we going there?”

Couldn’t tell her. She’d try her best to talk sense into you. Would try to convince you that this behaviour wasn’t serving anyone in the long term.

And she’d be right.

But you currently don’t really care about the long term.

Short term is where it’s at.

Where all the fun and the excitement lives.

So you’re out. Having drinks at a bar by yourself, and you do your very best fending off any trickle of doubt at your life choices until you see him walk in.

Jackpot.

You fucking knew it.

You pretend you haven’t seen him at all, of course. Continue your chat with the girl behind the bar, until suddenly–

“You know you’ve got the worst timing?”

Joe sneaks up on you.

His voice is low in your ear, and you do your very best to sound as surprised as you possibly can when you gasp a small breath, all innocent. You turn your head to see him over your shoulder, both his hands on your sides as he looks down at you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You say it like you truly didn’t expect to run into him.

Oscar worthy.

Well. It would have been, had you not both been very aware that you’re exactly where you are for this exact reason. Wearing what you are wearing, drinking what you are drinking. It’s more than a lucky guess that he’d be here tonight.

Joe’s predictable like that.

Men in general are easy like that.

“I’m here with a whole group.” Joe’s making excuses he already knows aren’t going to stop either one of you.  

“Do I know them?”

“No.” Joe answers as he scans your face from the side. God, you look all… glossy.

“Good.” Would’ve been a bit awkward otherwise.

“You better hang around for a bit.” Joe gives you a face, sort of stern, and it’s so comfortable to frown at him. To act all offended. Like it’s not exactly what you want to hear.

“Excuse you, I’m–” you start all aghast, and want to add, I’m seeing someone, which is a lie, but you get cut off by a strong squeeze into your waist from both his hands.

“I’m not joking. Give me… maybe, like, an hour and I’ll come get you.”

You scrunch your nose at him and he gives a small nod, his grin spreading wide, before he turns around and finds the people he came in with.

You’re alone. Single, and having drinks in a bar by yourself, which has every opportunity to feel a little sad, but instead you feel giddy. You predicted you’d run into him, and then you did.

Perfect.

You’re a genius.

After last time, you kind of want Joe to think that you are seeing someone. Just to make you feel like you’ve got the upper hand. Not that it matters. You’ve both made the same wrong choice in similar situations before. But, still. You just don’t want him to win.

Joe joins his friends, and he throws a quick glance back to see you smile into your drink as you take a sip.

Yea. Glossy is the right word, he thinks. He could stare at you all evening.

Fuck.

A whack to his shoulder by one of his friends pulls him into a conversation and momentarily, he shifts into the evening he had planned to have.

He forgets about you for a minute, but never entirely.

It’s like there’s a constant little buzz in the back of his head, and he keeps wanting to look over. See what you’re doing. Who you’re talking to. Who’s talking to you.

Joe’s in trouble.

You do things to him that he can’t entirely comprehend, and that no one before or after you has ever really managed. He doesn’t know what to make of that most of the time, except that the feelings he’s got for you are sort of… big. And scary.

You’re still devastatingly gorgeous to him, he can objectively look at you and think, yea she’s fucking hot, but you also manage to make him laugh. Manage to him feel heard and cared for. Manage to make him forget about all current worries life has on offer for him.

And Joe is generally, just, doomed.

Whatever he had with you had worked for a while and then suddenly it hadn’t anymore. You’d suddenly wanted out, but now… it feels a little like you both want to start over. Like you both want to forget about that chapter of bullshit. Pretend it never happened.

And what’s the problem with that?

Is whatever you are doing now a problem? If it works?

If it doesn’t hurt people, Joe thinks there’s no issue.

But he knows it actually does hurt people. It’s another truth he ignores. Tries to, at least.

There’s no denying the gravitation pulling the two of you closer and closer together until eventually you end up a tangled mess. Like a pair of forgotten earphones left in a coat pocket, too annoying to untie, so instead someone will pull at both ends until the earpieces reach both ears, leaving the wire tangled up even tighter as it sits under their chin.

Even though Joe appreciates the poetic beauty he can find in all of that, he knows he’s got to fucking stop hurting people all the time.

He can’t help his feelings.

But he can help how he treats others.

If he is going to choose to let the general ache of a bad week be soothed by the balm of your presence, he can at least have the decency to not let others presume they’re dating him. Because generally, that’s always been his problem. Joe’s vague and avoidant and all about surface level fun – he never defines anything if he can help it, and he lets others think what they please.

It’s easier that way.

For him, at least.

It’s both a shame and a godsend that this is a part of him that you know through and through. That you see. He doesn’t have to try to hide it, because he knows that it’s of no use with you.

And apparently, it’s fine, because here you fucking are, aren’t you?

He remembers when he thought you were just the same, and remembers how he felt so lucky at first.

A perfect match.

He’d learnt over time, you’re actually very much not the same. But! You had at least some of the same tendencies, and you showing up in this particular bar tonight was enough proof of it.

Joe’s in his group of friends, and they’re all chatting and laughing, and this was meant to be a fun night out, but he might as well just leave right now. His mind is with the girl at the other end of the bar, sat on her own, smiling and chatting to whoever had the courage to strike up a conversation.

Yea.

He’s got more problems.

Forget not wanting to define anything with anyone.

Joe also has to stop banking his entire future on the idea that you want him too.

There’s… there’s a lot of things to ignore.

It should foreshadow that the path he’s going down isn’t good. Isn’t the right one. But... it’s so fun and exciting, he kind of has to know where it leads.

He sighs loudly, a frustrated grumble originating from sheer defeat, and he gives the glass he’s holding a glance. He’ll finish this, and then he’ll fetch you and leave.

About fifteen minutes later, he’s got you under his arm and is leading you outside. Asks, “Yours or mine?” because there’s no need to act coy with you.

You answer, “Yours.” a little too quickly for Joe not to raise an eyebrow at.

You’re walking together, and you’re still fixing your scarf, but your steps are too determined. Too rushed for your quick answer not to hide at least some secrets.

“What, you got anything to hide from me?”

“No–”

“Let’s go over to yours. It’s closer.” he challenges without the intent to actually do so, footsteps still carrying him in the direction of his own flat.

“No, I–”

“Or has Jasper left all of his things strewn about?” Joe couldn’t finish the question before having to twist his mouth in a bid to hide his smile.

You stop walking for just a second, and give him a dead pan stare that transitions into an eye-roll before you flatly say, “All right, good night.” and pretend to turn around to leave.

It makes Joe throw his head back in a laugh, both his arms grabbing at you and pulling you close.

“Mine, okay. Mine.”

And you fall back into step, smiling into your scarf at how you just made Joe’s laugh echo down the street.

Feels good to make Joe laugh.

It’s quiet for a bit, just a short few seconds. Just footsteps on the ground amongst the noises of the city. Somehow, it feels like it drags on, like every second lasts a whole minute, and you can’t help filling it with awkward chat. “No,” you start. “Jasper’s put all of his things where they’re supposed to go.” And you give Joe a pointed look after.

He bites immediately.

“Wha– I always put my things where they’re supposed to go!”

He doesn’t.

You know he doesn’t.

He knows you know he doesn’t.

It’s impossible to forget all of the little things that made the rug look all lumpy. You’d always keep things under there for ages, which gave you a lot of time to quietly lift up corners to examine all the mess.

So you snort, and he stutters through beginnings of words he never finishes to find excuses that don’t exist until you’re both laughing.

Then he says, “Here. I’ll put this thing where it’s meant to go.” And you think it’s just about the cheesiest innuendo ever, but then he takes your wrist in his hand and lets his fingers intertwine with yours.

You look up at him with a pursed smile, but Joe’s already looking right ahead, making sure you don’t bump into anything.

You’re lucky it’s cold enough to blame the flush of your cheeks on the cold wind.

You hold hands all the way to Joe’s flat.

It’s nice.

You also talk about Jasper all the way to Joe’s flat.

That’s less nice.

Joe asks what else Jasper does that he allegedly doesn’t. If he lets you keep your heating on. If he lets you sleep closest to the door. Every question comes out with disdain, like this loser doesn’t know what he’s fucking doing.

And you answer every question with lies. Paint a very pretty picture.

Jasper doesn’t even fucking exist, but you like that Joe thinks you’re taken. That you’re off the market, and that he shouldn’t be taking you home, but still chooses to. You think maybe he wouldn’t have held your hand if he thought you weren’t already spoken for.

However, it doesn’t feel so nice to remember all the things that ruined your relationship with Joe. He just keeps listing a bunch of shit you’d once yelled at him for, and you don’t think he fully understands how it’s bringing the mood down.

Presumably, you’re meant to think it’s funny, so you smile, but all of it sits wrong in your gut. It leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth that uncomfortably sticks to your tongue and sours your mood a little.

The short-term fun with Joe is meant to be just that. Fun. You don’t want to be reminded of all the reasons why you shouldn’t be going home with him right now. If you did, you’d have taken Emily with you tonight.

You refrain from saying anything, though.

You’re still you, after all.

You just smile and tell Joe that Jasper actually does do all the things that Joe never did, and hope it sparks enough jealousy in him to maybe do something about it.

“Hmm,” Joe says when you turn the corner and his building comes into view. “Jasper sounds... he sounds kind of perfect, doesn’t he?”

He does.

You’ve created the image of a perfect boyfriend. One who you know you’d never actually gel with; you need someone who pushes back a little.

Problem is... Joe knows that too.

Just when the thought crosses your mind that maybe Joe knows you’re making everything up, that you’ve been lying this whole time you’ve been holding hands, Joe confirms your fears.

“Almost too um... almost too good to be true, wouldn’t you say?” he narrows his eyes in suspicion, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Yea, well. Some people are.” you shrug, but know Joe is reading your unsteady body language just fine.

“Sure, sure. Yea. I guess so.” Joe says, and then falls silent.

He knows you’re lying.

Well, fuck.

And then, he lets the silence linger.

Joe doesn’t say anything as he fishes his keys from a pocket and lets you into his building. Doesn’t say anything as he pushes the lift button. Just gives you a little smile, like he’s trying to hold in a chuckle, thinking secret thoughts.

It gets in your hair.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s... no, it’s nothing.”

Joe lets his small smile turn into a fat smirk and it’s starting to get on your nerves. The lift doors open, and you assertively step inside before Joe can give you a small ladies-first gesture.

Joe watches you press the button to his floor before he shakes his head a little and follows you in.

“What?” you ask again, and to that, Joe finally lets a barking laugh out.

“What?” he mimics, feeding off of the brooding bit of bite he can sense growing underneath your skin.

“If you’re trying to piss me off, it’s fucking working.”

“I’m not trying to do anything.” Joe patronises, joy very much still visible in the lines on his cheeks.

He knows you’re single.

He knows there’s no Jasper.

“Hmm.” It’s your turn to narrow eyes at him. “Yea, no. Of course not. You don’t have to try to piss me off, you’re right. You’ve got the skills to auto-pilot your way–”

In a lightning-speed quick move, Joe shuts you up by suddenly getting close enough for you to stumble back against the mirrored panel or the lift. He’s got two hands touching your sides over your coat, firm enough for you to feel them through the thick layers of fabric.

It startles you into silence, and makes you audibly swallow.

You can see from up close how Joe smugly pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes roving over you slowly, and, fuck.

Yea.

Yea. Okay.

It shifts.

All of it is shifting.

The annoyance and slight anger transfers into something else.

Into something a little more raunchy.

You feel a sudden rush down your body from the way Joe’s eyes blaze with intention.

Joe knows you. Bit rash of you to forget.

Just before the lift stills and the doors open behind him, Joe lets his body sway forward a bit to press himself up against you entirely. It makes your breath hitch and stutter. Makes you want to grab hold of the large collar of his coat to pull him down enough so you can kiss him.

But then, in a blink of an eye, he’s gone. Pushes himself off, quickly moves away, walks out of the lift, and leaves you there to catch your breath for a second.

Fucking hell.

Oh, tonight is going to be interesting.

You don’t leave the lift until the doors start closing and you have to quickly launch yourself across to get an arm in front of the sensor. Down the hall you see him disappear into his flat, leaving his door open, and you take rushing steps to follow him inside.

You don’t want to waste any more time.

You want to undress right there on his doormat, despite the bitterly cold temperature you’ve just stepped into.

You want find Joe, who you can hear is already opening and closing cupboards in his kitchen, and just... you don’t know. Jump him, you guess.

That lift moment has made you want to devour him. Made you want to be devoured by him.

But then you close his door and step into his kitchen, and find him at the counter. He’s got his back turned, and is super calmly pouring two glasses of wine.

No urgency.

Zero haste.

He knows what he’s just done to you. Knows the effect that likely must have had. He’s toying with you. Fucking playing.

You drop your coat where you’re standing, right onto the floor. Toe your shoes off to make a pile. You cross your arms and grab hold of the bottom of your top, ready to pull that over your head next, but you pause to watch Joe’s shoulders move under his shirt as he carefully twists and pushes the cork back onto the bottle to seal it.

When he turns around, he leans against the counter, one hand on the edge of it, and in the other he’s holding a nice fat glass of red.

Glass.

One glass.

For a moment you just assume that there’s another hiding behind his back, though it doesn’t even fully register.

You make eye-contact as he takes a slow sip of his drink, and then you slowly pull your top off. It reveals a lacy bra you’re convinced Joe likes the look of.

And you’re right.

Joe halts, and openly stares. Mouth in his wine. Hypnotised. Frozen on the spot. Mind slowly turning to mush.

He’s predictable like that.

Men in general are easy like that.

You take a deep breath, inflating your whole chest, and Joe groans at the sight. The glass of wine gets put back down behind him, and you don’t even think he has taken real sip. Then he takes a few steps to pull a chair from his table.

He holds a hand up that means, one second, and pulls at the fabric of his trousers to give himself a bit more space before he sits down. He shifts a little, settles in, and then leans back with his legs spread wide, both hands behind his head, fingers folded and elbows sticking out.

He takes a deep breath before he gives a small nod that says, carry on.

You bite your teeth into your bottom lip as you smile, because Joe is an idiot, and you let your hands find the button to your trousers to take off next.

Then, suddenly, it lands.

There’s one single glass of wine on the counter.

One.

You stop your movements as you look at it and watch the red liquid inside softly swirl from when Joe put it down.

It takes a second for Joe to follow your gaze, and for him to understand what you’re looking at.

He frowns in confusion a little, looks back at you to see that you’re still staring, and then looks back again, and–

“Oh...”

Your expression has gone cold.

And Joe thinks that maybe he gets it. He isn’t entirely sure, but he’s smart enough to know that the show he had just settled in for is probably going to get cancelled if he doesn’t do anything.

“Did you...”

But he’s not sure what to say. Doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. When you start moving, he thinks maybe he doesn’t have to.

It’s crazy how this feels like it used to feel, before.

But, it’s a little different now, because… there’s nothing at stake. There’s no you to protect. No you two as a couple to preserve.

That stupid single glass of red wine.

You fucking hate it.

And you know it’s sick, you know that you’re not meant to enjoy this, but the feeling of rage bubbling up within you honestly feels kind of good. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to experience full-body resentment, and have the immediate source of it right there to take it out on.

You want to feel this dark, sticky displeasure.

Feels fucking good.

Joe’s been reminding you of what a shit boyfriend he was to you, which was meant to be ha-ha funny. Joe thought enough time had passed. You had gone from no-contact to two people that bickered for a bit, and then would end up in bed together. It had happened twice already, and you had all the right ingredients to keep this going. The recipe had proven itself delicious, and Joe thought he could just... serve the same meal again.

It’s self-destructive, you know it is, but… you are hungry for it too.

You take a few slow steps and walk over to look at this glass of wine more closely. Joe watches you from his seat, entirely unsure of what to do, and then, without warning, you slowly push the whole thing into the sink.

Red splashes everywhere, and the glass clatters loudly, but it doesn’t break.

Next, you take the bottle into your hands. Look at the label for a moment. Pretend to read it. It’s still pretty full.

Too bad, you think. Such a waste.

You remove the cork, turn around to look Joe directly in the eye, and then tip that over as well. The whole sink colours blood read as you drain the whole thing, and all Joe can do is watch on from his seat.

He doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t say anything.

Just watches you and feels the energy of the room build.

He’d forgotten how things always build with you.

You’re quite the sight, face reading thunder, standing in his kitchen in your bra, breath deepening with every second that passes.

Joe hates what it does to him inside of his trousers.

When the bottle empties, wine clattering in the sink, Joe sees your face change. Something more… calm seemingly overcomes you. You look... pleased.

“Does that feel justified?” Joe asks, eyes blinking at you.

“Fuck you. Yes it does.”

“Do you have any idea how expensive that was?”

You don’t give a shit how expensive that was, but just because you know Joe does, you want to know.

“Tell me.”

Joe scans your body all the way down and then all the way back up.

“Come here.” Joe holds an arm out and reaches for you.

“Shut up. Tell me.” You’re already making your way over.

“That’s a class A premier grand cru...”

You take Joe’s hand and let him pull you to sit on his lap. To straddle him, thighs spread wide, one leg over each one of his.

“That was a class A premier grand cru.” the words mean nothing to you, you know fuck all about wine, but there’s something glorious about correcting Joe.

“Hmm.” Joe hums as his nose nudges yours, and he lets both hands slide up your thighs until he finds the bits he likes holding most. He uses his grip to pull you in closer and continues, “A blend of merlot, and cabernet franc...” Joe’s French accent is awful. “An award-winning Château Angélus from... from 2016, I think...”

That’s fairly recent, you think. Can’t be that expens–

“Cost me over 500 quid.”

Your eyes darken.

Good.

You wouldn’t pay much more than a tenner for a bottle of the same size.

“Should’ve poured me a glass.”

And it’s only then that the penny drops. That he gets it. You can see it in his eyes. The flush of memories suddenly making it to the forefront of his brain.

The silent treatment.

The coffees he didn’t make you.

The wine he eventually did pour for you.

That one glass of red that temporarily had fixed everything.

Shit.

Joe grimaces. Groans. Squeezes his eyes shut. Feels like an idiot.

“Should’ve poured you a–”

You kiss Joe.

Hard.

Breathe him in, and move in enough for it to almost make the chair tip backwards. You’ve got both your arms around his neck, hips moving over Joe’s lap in a desperate grind, all needy and in search of feeling something.

Fire.

You want to feel the fire.

Momentarily, you think it’s working. That something is catching aflame. You can feel how Joe spreads his legs even wider, bucking his hips upward as he presses himself into you.

Joe is straining in his trousers, and he groans as you figure out the right rhythm to make it feel good with every hip roll, with every back and forth.

You break the kiss to let a moan escape you, head dropping back, and Joe’s mouth finds the skin of your neck to taste. His teeth graze before he kisses as you fiercely move against each other. Louder noises escape you when Joe lets a hand curl around and grab you by the back of your neck.

“Yea? That feel nice?” he pants, and all you can do is bob your head in a barely there nod as you keep moving.

It does feel nice.

Feels really nice.

Not exactly fire, though. You’re both in trousers, fabric rubbing together furiously, dry humping each other like a pair of horny teenagers who haven’t passed third base yet.

So, not fire, but nice none the less.

In contrast, there’s a lot of things Joe’s feeling, and he kind of wants you to know about all of them. Needs to speak them into the air in order to fully process what’s happening inside of his brain.

“Did you know I um… I broke everything off, the next day?” Joe starts, and stops to curse under his breath. “Fuck. Yea, keep going. Shit. Ah... A-after you left, I mean, remember? I had a lot of m-missed calls, so I called her back, and I–”

You shut Joe up with a kiss.

Try to at least.

“We could–” Joe starts again after turning his head and pushing you aside with his nose, both hands spread wide over your thighs as he helps you move over his lap. “Remember, how we really were something?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Try to focus on the feelings inside of your body instead of on the words you don’t want to hear.

“We could be something still.”

“N-no.”

You refuse to acknowledge what Joe’s trying to tell you, but don’t stop your movements. You can’t stop, head dropping back. This all feels too good.

It’s still not fire, though.

There’s no stakes.

You’re both single, and every decision you have made this evening turns out to have been inconsequential.

It’s... it’s almost boring.

But it’s good enough.

You just need a couple more seconds, you can feel it building already.

“We c-couldn’t be somethinhgh...” you choke on your words, unable to finish the sentence.

“Yes,” Joe insists, voice low and breathy, your bodies still moving in tandem. He then uses one hand takes hold of your face by your cheeks, tilting your head down so he can make eye-contact with you for a second.

“Yes we could.” He sounds hopeful as his eyes search yours. “Don’t you get it?”

But your eyes are glassy. They flutter and want to roll back.

Joe knows this look.

Know what this means.

And it’s not like Joe thinks his kind words will really fix anything, but, maybe they will, you know? Maybe. He’s glad he has said them anyway, even though you look like you haven’t even properly heard him.

“You close, baby?”

He switches gears.

“Yea? Come on.” He helps you move with strong arms that press you down a little more, and your arms scramble behind his back in your want to hold onto him tightly.

“There you go.” he coos into your ear, and, it’s not fire, but you come anyway.

Joe should have poured you a glass of wine.

Shouldn’t have brought up bad memories, shouldn’t have tried to be funny about it, and absolutely should have simply gone and poured you a glass.

You pretend that a glass of wine would’ve made a difference tonight.

The difference that you had hoped to find.

That would’ve lit the fire.

Deep down you know that’s not it, but still. The empty bottle is right there, watching you come down from your high, Joe still hard beneath you, and it’s easy to use that as the excuse.

You decide on the spot that Joe’s going to have to deal with what resides inside of his underwear by himself.

You’re done.

Sitting up, you look him in the eye for a short moment and softly but definitively say, “Should’ve poured me a glass.” and press a small kiss to his cheek which Joe gladly accepts.

Because he knows you’re right.

“Should’ve poured you a glass.”

---

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[thewalrusespublicist]

omg can you speak more to your latest post about the reverse happening in 1980, I’ve never about the coherence of the narrative actually :O

Yeah an alternate universe would be crazzyy because our main narrator and star witness of the Beatles would be resident shit stirrer … John Lennon.

John

Fucking

Lennon.

The thing with Paul is that he’s kept to a pretty consistent narrative for the past 40 years or so: John broke up the Beatles cause he wanted to move on, army buddies, they loved each other etc. You can criticise it (I certainly do), but it’s coherent. It’s also one that has allowed John grace and promoted love and community as a core message, something that the other last surviving Beatle Ringo is more than happy to support. It works, we get it, it's a good message in many ways.

Whereas John … wooo boy. The only idea we have of what John would have been like is the 70s where he couldn’t even make a narratively coherent sentence.

If you take his comments and put them together, the Beatles break up was because the guys were blokes he got bored of but also the temple he loved too much but also a marriage that had to end but also a mistake in many ways. Simple, right?

And who was Paul again? Oh, well he was his closest friend ever but also someone he was never very close to and a genius but also artistically dead and yeah, he talks to him often but hasn’t spoken to him in a decade and could talk about him for days but also never thinks about him and is his dear one but also a straight and his ex-coworker who he didnt really work with much … wait no fiance/brother that he would do anything for. Whatever emotion John felt at that moment was his new forever truth/cope and that was the shit he was sticking to on record for those five minutes.

 And that’s John in normal factory mode. Now imagine the nuke that would be losing Paul, his Paul. Imagine every extreme feeling and every defense mechanism under the sun all going off at once and right in the interviewer's face like a deranged grief firework show. Then the added mess of Paul being seen as a saint and Paul the person not being there to reality check John’s view of him … chaos. On top of all that, if Yoko is right and John did contemplate an affair with Paul, you think he wouldn’t have spouted that at some point AMONGST OTHER THINGS WE DON’T KNOW ABOUT? 

Trying to work out the whole Beatles saga would be like trying to find Bigfoot but the compass is pointing in every direction and through several detours through an inexplicable amount of orgies, scandals and psychosexual drama.

 Who were the Beatles? God knows, apparently only the best band ever of bffs/coworkers who were so overrated and boring that John couldn’t wait to leave/never wanted to quit. Who the fuck was Paul McCartney? Duh, the most beautiful perfect wonderful genius man who had ever lived, one of the great loves of John’s life whose memory will stalk his dreams and waking hours until his dying day and has seances for on the reg. Oh he's also a sheep fucking devil who was hated and who intentionally and maliciously slept with half of London and wrote 'nogoodsongsshutup' in an evil plot to trick John to make music with him until Yoko freed him from his spell. What was their relationship? ????????? (okay maybe not everything would have changed lol but we would have so many more details on John’s side). There’d be no message from the Beatles tale, no story, no cohesion. Just a free-for-all pile of disparate tales of love, hate, treepanning and heartache to sift through.

In any case, I would love to see the madness that would be their version of Beatles tumblr.

[katerinaaqu]

What's your opinion on how Telemachus was handled in Epic (so far) ? I'm curious 😀.

And what is different from his Odyssey portrayal ? Not counting the fanart that infantilizes him, I'm strictly talking about the musical itself.

Hahahaha you guys definitely wanna put me against a wall one of these days! XD But I absolutely LOVE this question! Hahaha okay here goes;

Absolutely I wasn't gonna talk about the fanart and all that is part of the designing process and arguably that is part of every person to do. They could easily choose the depiction more Odyssey-accurate and still use the musical sound so yes you do well to mention it because yes I myself wouldn't touch the design part in this ask

Anyways long story short; I don't like it.

Storywise it is overly-simplified and shows only one portion of his possible emotions; the one that tries to connect with his father. That part is genuine and I see where the portrayal such as the song "Legendary" came from. Arguably Homer himself also touches the subject of glory through one's deeds and I see where the musical came from when Telemachus says what he says but the song was too bbbly, too naive portrayal of Telemachus and in a way completely disregarded the true depth of sadness and depression in Telemachus.

In the Odyssey Telemachus never connected to his father because his father was never there. To the point where he was even doubting whether he was his son or not. He basically says that "everyone calls me that but how can I know? The dude was never there. Possibly never will be here again". His whole energy was the total opposite than Epic.

Epic portrays Telemachus in a manner that reminds me of Disney's Little Mermaid in "Part of your world"; a bubbly teenager who dreams to start his life or to be making a legendary name for himself like his father and in childish naive energy says "bring me all these monsters to fight them!" while in his childish naive nature was also making him afraid or worried to face the bullying of the suitors (the way the suitors were portrayed as if Jorge wanted to make them EVEN MORE evil also had me cringe like Antinous calling Penelope "tramp". Antinous called Penelope more or less "divious" because of her scheme against them but that was all. In here they are competing for her hand while calling her names without reason? Yeah right....). He seemed like the average teenager that needs the adult to get him to realize video games is not the life and that he needs to do something about his future! Does he also seem low-key sad? Yes. But just like Ariel in the Disney movie was pictured as a dreamer that wanted escape from his confided situation through bubbly and childish dreams.

Odyssey Telemachus was both emotionally and psychologically exhausted; his mother was taken down by grief and endless waiting and had confided herself in her chambers, trying her best to avoid the suitors that were at her home for FOUR YEARS, constantly crying at this point. Telemachus also saw his grandfather lose his mind in sorrow and his grandmother melting away by desperation and sadness and dying or potentially killing herself by it. The last thing he wanted was "to be legendary". In fact Telemachus gave me the exact opposite energy than a dreamer. He was very down to earth and his main goal was to get out of this nasty situation, trying to grow as a person to set himself free from this torment. He had so much in his plate that the last thing he wanted was to dream. In fact he gave me the impression of a person with no more the luxury of dreaming. He almost seemed crushed to the point of breaking himself almost like every other member of his family. (He gives me the impression of a person that after spent years of trying and fulflling their dreams now they are forced to work in a work they hate for survival and think that "dreams are for fools. No luxury for them!")

Like I said Menelaus described Telemachus as a spitting image of his father including his eyes, which is something I find the most important. Menelaus compared Telemachus's gaze to Odysseus; a man that fought a war with him! A man exhausted by the evil he saw and caused. Telemachus's profound grief was so intense that his look was equivalent to a man Menelaus fought a war with! He was the opposite of what we see in Epic! In fact we know that Telemachus was also very much silent and tried to keep a low profile so he didn't need to face the humiliation of the men that were literally plundering his wealth and harassing his mother and himself. The last thing he had in his mind would be to "be legendary". He was also plundered by the fact that not only was he doubting that Odysseus was his father per se but also he was in doubt that this Odysseus that everyone named his father would be alive or dead. He didn't know that. He was actually almost certain that Odysseus was dead but that part in the back of his head was not yet leaving him in peace which is why he needed Athena's guidance

Which brings me to the next part; Athena In Epic Athena appears to...give Telemachus the boost to fist-fight the suitors for some reason and mind you he still gets his ass handed at him! It made it seem as Telemachus's only problem was that he didn't have the guts or skills to fight the suitors and Athena gave him a solution! (potentially a message to stand up against bullies for teenagers? Perhaps but still I felt it massively undermined Telemachis's situation in the book) As I have answered to another person around here, Telemachus's problem was that the suitors claimed the law of hospitality and named themselves ODYSSEUS'S guests. Telemachus could not yet take over as king and he had no power to send them away. Plus he was plundered by doubt about his own inheritence. What Athena did was not to make Telemachus a fighter for he already was (we see how well he stands against them at the side of his father in the Odyssey) she came to encourage him to find out on his own.

Arguably the trip of Telemachus was a mirror counterpart of Odysseus's but instead of a trip that makes you lost like Odysseus was lost, it was a trip for self-discovery. Mind you, both the trip of Odysseus and the trip of Telemachus are cognitive trips; both characters learn in them and come in contact with places. Psychologically the trip allows Telemachus to escape this boarderline toxic grief in his home and explore the world. Also find out on his own information about his father. Now, arguably he never really finds out about his father's whereabouts for certain apart from Menelaus's vision but there is something he definitely gets out of his trip that is not talked about enough;

He finds out he REALLY is the son of his father and he gets information about what kind of man he was!

He hears from friends that fought with him how similar he looks to him; not just from his closed and secluded environment but of people outside his circle and his known people that he looks like him and they also give him information about him. No more the random comments the suitors he hated say or his sad mother who could either idealize his father to escape her grief or the loyal slave Euryclea who adored the family naturally like a mother; now it was also friends and known people of Odysseus that speak about him Telemachus is double-checking his information! Thus coming home much more confident on his inheritence and his own destiny and duty

Arguably the Odyssey is as much Telemachus's story as it is Odysseus's. Telemachus was in one way a spectrum of Odysseus; fighting a different type of war; losing himself in a different type of sadness. His story was a story of coming of age not a story of a goddess that teaches him how to stand up against bullies. Telemachus already does that in the Odyssey by calling the council. Arguably he was alays standing against the suitors but his position did not allow him to do something drastic! I think just like many things Epic missed this by a mile; reducing Telemachus's profound grief, sadness and uncertainty to an average teenage escapism story rather than the fact that Telemachus had no luxury or energy for escapism, Athena's advice for self-discovery to the average "raise your fists and fight your bullies" story ignoring the deep cultural details that led Telemachus to that tight spot in the first place and of course it completely abandoned the importance of Telemachus's trip which could be a subject of a movie on its own! (Quite frankly Telemacheia covers more chapters in the Odyssey than Odysseus's own flashback! It covers 5 rhapsodies of the Odyssey while Odysseus's story covers 3-4)

I hope this answers some questions! I will be happy to elaborate more.

[witchthewriter]

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 🐦‍⬛

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I've added Victor into this, but I want to have a conversation about if he can be a romantic partner - or he will always be platonic?

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

You're still in Fromville, not having escaped yet but making the best of it.

𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒅 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Domesticity to Boyd is so much different in this town compared to the 'real' world.

・For example, he would be awake before you, no matter the day just so he could surprise you with your favourite drink and a pastry each morning.

・The chores would be split 50/50, with Boyd usually picking up any slack (he doesn't mind at all)

・He loves doing the laundry, folding your clothes with so much care.

・But here... his actions to show his love are limited and it kinda pisses him off

・But you constantly remind him of all the good he's done here and how he keeps everyone together.

・You celebrate every win, even the small ones.

・Boyd is big on DIY, and loves fixing up things for you. Anything you ask - you want a different type of curtain, or you want part of the window patched up - he does NOT let you do it. That is HIS job.

・Massaging his shoulders at night, feeling how taught he is. This town is so hard on him. It constantly makes you wonder, why him?

・You do have one rule though: last one in bed has to make it!

・Boyd seems like the type of person to keep everything about himself to himself. But that isn't true. He likes telling you things, he enjoys opening up to you.

・One really important factor in your relationship is the challenges of town and its mysteries.

・Many people in town were basically betting how long you two would together.

・But what they didn't know, was that the horrors STRENGTHENED your bond. It made you both rely on each other so deeply.

・Having a partner means so much to him.

・Boyd loves you so much. He would never burden you with what he knows, but he loves when you have random conversations.

・It makes things feel just a bit more normal. It gives him hope.

𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒚 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Mornings and nights are especially special to you both

・Slow, careful, mindful, warm and cosy.

・Touching each other in some way - hugging each other from behind, pinkies entwined, cheek kisses, forehead kisses, rubbing noses together - if anyone else saw you too they would gag (ITS CALLED LOVE)

・Kenny LOVES tucking you in at night.

"You comfy now?" As he wedges the blanket under the side of your body.

"Yes Kenny! Now get in bed you loser!" You answer laughing.

"Okay, okay, I'm just looking after the most important person in my life thank you very much."

・You love listening to him; to his stories about his childhood up until he came to town.

・One of Kenny's favourite things is when you read to him. Even if you don't have a book in front of you, he just wants you to recount as much as you can from books you have read.

・Might be kind of painful, but you two like talking about how life would be like together outside of this hell.

・Owning two cats, two dogs, maybe some fish.

・Whenever you hear the creatures screeching, you automatically cling to Kenny, you can't help it. You HATE the noises.

・But you always feel safe around Kenny. Always.

"I've got you. I swear to god I'll never let anything happen to you."

𝑱𝒂𝒅𝒆 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Every morning he gives you a kiss on the head and 'tip toes' out of the room, trying not to disturb you.

・You usually yell at him to get back in bed

"My looooooove, I have important business to attend to!"

・The bed is pressed up against the wall, and Jade says if someone/something were to enter the room, he would be the first thing they see

・From then he starts his daily ritual of figuring out how to get the hell home

・Jade teaches you A LOT of stuff. And you're always surprised by how well he does at teaching. He's patient (only with you but you don't know that), and takes his time to teach in ways you'll understand (once again, only for you...)

・He is like a walking computer at times. Really good with dates and great with measurements.

・But one thing he is terrible about is the fact that he's a repeat offender blanket stealer. Absolute criminal.

・No matter how much you tug and pull, or wrap yourself in it, Jade somehow unravels you in his sleep and takes the blanket.

・When you both wake up, you've practically snuggled underneath him...

"Babe, what are you doing?"

"You stole the blanket again and I got cold," you reply muffled beneath him. He's very warm.

"Oh god, sorry! We ah, we should probably get more blankets then... god why didn't you wake me?"

"Wake you? Ever since we got our own place, you've slept like you've never done so in your life!"

・It was quiet before he replied, and then he wrapped his arms around you.

"That's because I haven't sleep properly before I met you."

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒍 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Your relationship with Randall is one that surprises you. Constantly.

・People don't see him the way you do. At times they start to though.

・But only you get to see his true soft side. The side that moves the hair from your face, kisses your forehead, nudges his nose against your own.

・You are the ONLY person to make him laugh.

・He knows so much about you - the way you like your clothes folded or hung up. He knows which books are your favourite, which song you could listen to on replay.

・Music is a big thing to Randall, and the fact that he can't just randomly play something on his phone gets him really down.

・So one night you guys make a list of every song you like, when you heard it and what it made you feel

・Making each other guess who you were before arriving in hell.

"Hmm... you were ... a ... farmhand on a ranch..."

"What the fuck Y/N."

"What? Were you?"

"Oh yeah sure, you hit the nail straight on the head sweetcheeks," and then he rolled his eyes.

・You laugh, loving when he gets 'annoyed' (you know he can never really be annoyed with you right?)

・You know each other's favourite tv shows, colours, smells, literature and so on. You whisper to each other through the night, trying to take your mind off of the screeching coming from outside.

𝑬𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Always the last to get up, sometimes he wakes before you but he'll still lay in bed, watching you sleep. Sometimes blowing air on your face when it's been a few hours and he gets bored

・Leaving sweet notes in unexpected places, they range from:

'hey baby, went down to do some work in the greenhouse, love you xx' to 'yo sexy honey see you tonight ;)'

・And you keep every single one of them. You have a sort of time capsule thing underneath the bed in one of your bags. Just small photos, letters written to each other, etc.

・Side note - Ellis is a cheeky man who loves to rile you up. Push your buttons. Make you red in the face.

・But he knows when enough is enough; he's extremely intune with your moods and doesn't have to ask when the days get too much.

・LOVES MAKING UP RANDOM SONGS ABOUT YOU, they are terrible but they make you laugh

・CONSTANTLY setting up spontaneous things for you guys to do. Seeing a smile on your face is the best thing he has ever seen.

・Literally puppy love.

・You guys seem to be able to talk to each other mind to mind. Glances from across the room are easily read by one another.

𝑽𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

PSA: As I said above, I'm not sure if Victor can be a romantic partner - I would love everyone's thoughts on it and maybe we can come to some kind of agreement??? Anyway, read this how you like ⟡☾⚝☽⟡

・Home...this town is the only home that Victor had ever truly known.

・How could you show him that the way he'd been living was not normal? That he should be able to feel safe, he should have gone to school - maybe even his drawing could have evolved into something astonishing

・So, in little ways you introduce this life to him

・He can't remember his birthday (so you help him choose one) and the two of you, along with Ethan, Tabitha and Julie celebrate

・...home decor projects are mostly just Victor's drawings. The really scary ones, you ask to be put away and he obliges <3

・Victor is used to living with other being, but not sleeping in the same room as another person.

・You would also need to get used to his blatant honesty. It isn't like he's trying to hurt you but he can just be brutally honest.

・Picnics in your room where you scavenge whatever food you can and talk about the funniest things you've seen people do

"I saw Jim ... trip over today," Victor says in a hushed voice, a cookie halfway to his mouth.

You burst out laughing, even snorting as you imagine the uppity Jim Matthews take a tumble.

"God, I wish I saw that."

・At first Victor didn't want another friend. He didn't want to get close to someone, he knew something would happen to you. You'd be taken away from him.

・But you swore to him that you would always be there for him.

・In town, and when everyone leaves. You've told him that you can be his home, his family.

[orbleglorb]

tumblr in the blaseball universe, part 10

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

image descriptions: the first image is a thick black bar meant to separate posts. the second image is a thin gray bar meant to separate reblogs. they are used continuously throughout the post when appropriate. like right now

☎️ official-jessica-telephone 🔁

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what happens if the real JT wants this URL. it's a part of me now. who do i become if i have to give it up

🐟 offishal-jessica-telephone Follow

she'll have to krill you for it

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

WHO ARE YOU

102 notes

☕ eyesinthedark11

every day with salmon weather for the past few months, my dad has miraculously "found" fresh salmon for us to have for dinner. should i ask him where he's getting it from

#personal #i know the answer. i just need the verbal confirmation

0 notes

Whoops, looks like this post doesn't exist!

🐍 gamer--gorgon

shoutout to the guy (who i think might be in our shadows?) that goes fishing during every salmon game. you should see if you can get anything from the floods

#if he's a shadows guy it's extra funny because he's gotta come up from new jersey #all the shadows share an apartment there #charla said she thought she knew him but every time she tries to get into the stands to talk to him he just disappears lmfao #i get it king. i really do

41 notes

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what do you MEAN they're rebooting supernatural???

35 notes

☕️ eyesinthedark11 🔁

☕️ eyesinthedark11

i understand that this is ostensibly a terrible thing to say but i truly do not think parker macmillan did anything wrong. if my mom was the coin i woulda done worse. i wouldn't have only been passively killing

🦆 peripheral-duck

everyone wants to act all gifted kid burn out fleabag mommy issues #coquette #girlblogger but the minute mommy decides murder is okay if it gets her some money it's all "well why didn't PARKER do anything :/" you fake fucking bitches. bro got cursed to bring destruction in his wake and THEN cursed to wander everywhere. we're not going to question that??

☕️ eyesinthedark11

if the coin was my mom i would have burned the whole earth years ago. not even because of firewalker or anything i woulda just done that

#like you are looking at mommy issues supreme. you show some fucking respect #<- PREV #on one hand it feels really weird to say these things about a Real Guy who is possibly still alive #on the other hand. you fake bitches #if you've reblogged a fleabag quote i don't wanna hear shit from you #'maybe the fireballs didn't know what instability was' valid point! #but that does not mean they're not at fault. you know #idk why everyone expects parker to just. fix everything. #if he's in the vault then he's been 19 for like 50+ years. he suffers more than jesus

5 notes

🐶 catgirlfirefighter

it's somehow the league's best kept secret that mike townsend is deaf. people keep coming to me like, "idk how you're friends with the guy, he just ignored me, he's such a dick" bro he can't hear you. and also yeah he is a huge bitch

#right judgement wrong reason #mike if you're reading this. ily <3

112 notes

🦞 marketplace-shellfish

Hey has anyone heard from that guy who was making the "meatcute is not real and can't hurt me" affirmations recently? I can't tell if it's a bit or not but they haven't posted since.

#blaseball #san francisco #san francisco lovers #hopefully it's nothing and i'm just anxious lol

11 notes

[donutfloats]

Wait, are The Fox And Ratau's friendship the "friendship turned mutually destructive that will never heal because neither can trust the other as they once did" variety of The Farmer and The Snake tale or are they the "trusting person helps someone in need, only to be betrayed once their help is no longer required" variety?

I'm pretty sure it's the latter, because yk its the Fox we're talking about, but can't never be to sure considering googling it will lead you to both versions of the tale, so that's why Im asking lol

Both if I were to be honest!

They were friends at one point, sharing similar situations (fucked over by gods)

The Fox however was using Ratau to get to the Red Crown, as it’s the only crown left that he has not tasted

Problem is that he maybe sorta kinda caught actual feelings, and started to care about the Rat, but when Ratau discovered The Fox’s plan he cut off contact entirely to them

So present day The Fox requests to eat Ratau with the thought that it’s because he’s the only being he can eat now that has a connection to the Red Crown, but really he still has feelings for Ratau and wants him close again

They were not healthy for eachother because of their relationship being built off of their dislike of the other gods

The Fox is basically in complete denial of how they feel, while Ratau has trust issues and deals with it by devoting himself entirely to The Red Crown

What would happen if Fox ate Ratau though?

My idea is below the cut (cw emetophobia, only mention of it)

So to explain why Fox would have this reaction I’m about to describe I have to quickly explain Fox’s motives for why they want to eat someone that’s related to The Red Crown

In my au Fox, when they were a mortal, was alive during The Great War. They saw gods die, homes burn, fields wither and seasons stop entirely

There was an intense famine during this time, perhaps a tactic used by Heket to dwindle the numbers of opposing cultists. Fox was amongst those starving

Desperate times called for desperate measures, so Fox ate the corpse of a dead god

It wasn’t the first time they had to eat a person, they were starving after all so there were plenty of bodies to pick from for a time, but the bodies rotted away and there were fewer every day. So when they found the body of a dead god they jumped at the opportunity

They discovered that it had a taste to it, something completely unique that made it stand out from mortal flesh- and he liked it

That’s how it started, every time he found a dead god, he’d eat their body. Time would pass, the fields would grow plentiful again, but The Fox still craved more of the godly flesh

So they made it their goal to taste every crown bearer, and if they couldn’t eat the crown bearer- they’d eat their disciple instead, ones who have consumed their gods blood and now had it course through their veins

That is why they wanted the Red Crown, it is the last one, the final course

With that explanation of Fox’s motives, this is what would happen if they were given Ratau and ate him:

Fox would discover that the Red Crown’s flesh tasted of… nothing. No bitterness, sweetness, sourness- hell they would have taken rotten

But it didn’t taste of anything, and they’re devastated about this

All this time, all this waiting, even eating the one person who ever cared for them- it was for NOTHING

So that sends Fox into a melt down, they want to take back what they had done, so they throw up what ever remains of Ratau

All that’s left is bones

That’s why you never see Fox again after handing Ratau to him, as he sits at the spot he spat Ratau up at. Having made a pitiful shrine with what ever remained of his body, and sits there: in denial of what he has done, hoping maybe Ratau will come back to life again one day like he always did when he was a Vessel

[thedastravelerer]

I just finished the Dragon Age Veilguard and I need to scream my thoughts into the internet void.

My Rook, Lucrezia, was bought along with other kids by the house de Riva when she was 3 years old. She doesn't remember anything before that. When her magic manifested at the age of 8, she begged Viago not to send her to the Circle. Viago saw great potential in the little elven chaos gremlin, so he decided to hire private tutors for her. From the age of 14, she became Viagos apprentice, accompanying him everywhere. Her sunny, bubbly personality was a great distraction in social settings. She was the Robin and Viago was the Batman, basically.

Inquisitor romanced Solas.

So that is the viewpoint, from which I experienced the game.

The good:

The music is AMAZING

The environments are gorgeous

Spellblade is sooo much fun. The perfect mix of rogue and mage.

Treviso is so beautiful. I am never saving Minrathous. That sh*thole can get swallowed by the ocean.

The final missions were great. The tension, the loss, the heartbreak, the betrayal—10/10. No notes.

Baby griffons

The conversations/dynamic between Lucanis/Spite and Taash crack me up

The dynamic between Viago and Lucrezia was everything I could have hoped for. I still laugh when I remember the letter from Viago starting with "IDIOT".

Viago and Teia—I would die for them. Every time they flirt, I picture Lucrezia sticking fingers into her ears and going LALALALA. I don't want those pictures in my head.

Harding wins the competition for the prettiest room in the Lighthouse.

I love the little offhand comments and banter between all of the Crows. It was fun to hear Lucanis or Lucrezia randomly mention Viago or Teia. It really painted a picture of them knowing each other for a long time and being able to poke fun at each other.

I loved Lucanis as a character. Also, the 3-way relationship between Rook-Spite-Lucanis is perfect. I loved that when Lucanis learns about Caterina being alive, he shuts down and Spite is like: "What?! Why are you putting more locks into our prison? I AM GETTING ROOK! :D

The "Solas therapy" ending was heartwarming (and also a bit funny)

I loved Solas as a character. I see, why he is the god of trickery and lies. And how his wisdom turned into pride. I just wish I could slap that stubborn liar. Just once.

You know it is real love when you spent the last few hours chomping on an archedemon and your Vhenan still kisses you.

I liked the relationship progression between Davrin and Lucanis. They went from open hostility to mutual respect to drinking buddies.

Lucanis questioning Bellara and Neve about their business decisions was hilarious. Crows are first and foremost business people.

Isseyas storyline. I just wish they delved deeper into her story instead of getting an infodump. I enjoyed seeing how the blight twisted her grief and regrets. How she remembered only her love for the griffons she saved. And the blight corrupted that love, forcing her into horrible mistakes.

The bad:

The story is so shallow in comparison to previous games. All of the nuance is gone. There is no Loghain, no Meredith and Orsino, no Anders. Everyone is either the good guy or the bad guy. Maybe except for the Butcher and Isseya.

A lot of the darker, complicated, interesting themes are ignored. After the Antaam Qunari (Sten in DAO), the Ben-Hassrath Qunari (Bull in DAI) we finally meet a scholar of Qun and we get NOTHING interesting from her. We can't have a deeper conversation about the Qun. We can't even talk about her hypocrisy of running away from the very rules she forces on Taash. The Antaam are the a$$holes and everyone else following the Qun is good. Until they disagree with their assigned role in life and get their mind broken until they fit the mold again. But we don't get to learn that.

Who TF is Anaris? Why is he the Forgotten One? What does it even mean? What beef did he have with the Evanuris? We don't get to learn that. We get MWHAHAHA I AM SOOO EVIL. Boring and disappointing. It would have been much more interesting if he convinced Cyrian his sister was a pawn for the Dread Wolf. There could have been a conflict between elves choosing Anaris, who promised them power after their gods turned out to be a$$holes, and elves choosing a new, free path.

Are we not going to address the EXECUTIONER in the room? Who is he? Where did he come from? Why is he totally cool working a desk job in the Necropolis?

We finally see Kal-Sharok and we learn almost nothing about the dwarves living there. How did they survive? How do they govern themselves? What is the culture like?

I don't understand the Titan powers Harding has. Like, I get the concept, but the details are confusing.

I am sick of the words "ritual" and "artifact"

The quests "press button in three places" or "destroy/place crystals so they link/unlink" were a bit repetitive.

Characters sometimes have lapses in memory. Ferelden has fallen to the blight, but Emmerich and Harding are going camping there... Mmmmkay. Rook, baby, you have used the teleport vortex like three times before. We have 2 in the Lighthouse.

I love Lucanis, but his romance is very undercooked. I get, that he pushes a lot of emotions down, and flirting is just another weapon the Crows use to get to their targets. But we see no inner turmoil in banter, no notes wondering about Rook. He touches Rook exactly once - in the romance scene at the very end. They never even address the almost kiss.

The brutality of the life of Crow recruits is smoothed over to be nice and family-like. We are talking about an organization that buys enslaved children and forces them into hunger games to shape them into elite assassins.

The widespread Tevinter slavery is mentioned minimally. The only mention might be the codex of Dorians speech in the Magisterium. Their whole social system is built on slavery and caste system. We don't get to talk to Neve about any of it.

Most of the helmets are hideous.

The "stealing cultural stuff is wrong and we, the pirates and treasure hunters, are not doing it. We are the good guys!" talk you have with Taash right when you meet her was so jarring. Like, it makes sense, because Isabella is in charge. It would have been funnier and less preachy if they went with "We don't steal cultural stuff, because Isabella stole something from the Qunari once and it was a sh*tshow".

No dirt, no persistent gore

You don't get to have deep conversations with your followers. Instead, you get to read their diaries and letters in the codex. I felt like a creep snooping through their notes and letters to each other. Same feeling with the Lighthouse banter.

I miss the more abrasive followers. Everyone is high on friendship. Why is no one protesting against the demon-possessed assassin cooking all of our meals? Why isn't Bellara more wary about the Tevinter mage? Emmerich gets a lot of sh*t for the creepiness, but nobody questions the morality of using body parts as Legos.

I wish we could choose a class for the Inquisitor. She looked so ridiculous and out of place in the last fight. She is one of the most fearsome fighters in Thedas and she wears the blandest outfit possible. She isn't even armed.

We find out the Andrastian faith is a fairytale and no one except Harding comments on it? All of the human followers grew up in Andrastian cultures. Religion forms the structure of society, customs, inner values, viewpoints on the world, and what is considered "normal" on a subconscious level. In DAI you have a conversation with Josephine about how the Andrastian faith provides common ground for negotiations across cultures. Cassandra walks through an elven temple that is older than her religion and still wonders who could believe this nonsense. Why aren't you more upset, people?!

I am going to pretend the post-credit scene didn't happen. You will not soil the beautiful tragedies of the very human mistakes and choices the imperfect characters like Loghain made. I will not accept some demon whispering over the wonderful multi-faceted people and their rises and falls. F*ck you.

The bug, where the game loads the preset character instead of your custom Rook is annoying and didn't get fixed by the patch.

I hate the UI with a passion

No grey streaks in Inquisitors hair is a crime.

I hate the underwater view in Rooks room. I have an irrational fear of deep waters and sea life. The Ossuary is a prison of my nightmares.

I hate the redesign of the demons. They look like dementors with their robes open.

It is not clear how long was Rook trapped in the prison of regrets.

Anyway... rant over. I enjoyed the game like I enjoy the Marvel movies. With half of my brain turned off.

[erasinglines]

it's bittersweet, being back here, faced with memories from the life they once shared together. there's happy ones, of course, that flood to the forefront of his mind— the first time they ever said they loved each other, just down the hall in the bathroom; or all the times following that where those three words were uttered, whether that was in the kitchen, after a dinner they prepared together went horribly wrong and all they could do was laugh at it, or in their bed in the morning, when they awoke to the sight of each other, or in the hallway, just before they're out the door, each day they had to go to work. there was always something so certain back then; this love that held them together, the home they found in each other, that they could return to the safety of, each and every single day. and it's taken him awhile this time around, but he's found his way eventually— back to her, his home. with that, of course, comes memories that are harder to swallow, that aren’t as easy to think back on; two lines on a test, reality coming crashing down around them when that was no longer a possibility, secrets around a job interview, a job offer, a final goodbye, and even a heavy sense of grief, that brought him back to the safety of these walls. and they’re hard to acknowledge, yes, but in a similar way to how those happier memories are, too— all that they had, they nurtured and grew together, all to slip away from them, just like that. there’s so much history, here, in their surroundings, in the breath that they share, so close together. there’s not much else to focus on, then, as her nose nudges against his, the feeling of her breath warm against his skin. no, not much else at all, other than the pounding of his heart in his ears, his chest rising and falling with each of her words. not much else other than the feeling of what it’s like to kiss her, again, to give into the desire he’s tried to tamper down for so long, pretend like it wasn’t there. but, it screams at him now— yes, it’s still there, no, it’s never gone away. so, talk, yes, they definitely should talk, go over the situation they’ve put themselves in, but there were already on the edge of the cliff, weren’t they? what was one more step? “ we should, you’re right, ” his agreement falls easily, because he’s in no position to disagree, but his pause says it all, perfectly timed as her hand rests against his chest, lips close to his own, just barely touching. holds onto some form of restraint, not closing that gap right away, continuing to hover there, fighting the urge. “ i don’t think that makes you a terrible person, no, ” because it was her, them— this would never feel wrong, not to him. besides, the last thing he’d want is for her to feel guilty over it. “ i feel the same, ” he breathes, inching just that little bit closer. and it shouldn’t be surprising, not really, not when they’ve always been on the same page, even about this. as it turns out, self-control isn’t his strongest suit, and soon enough, he’s closing the gap between them again, his lips to hers, but this time there’s an urgency to the kiss, like he can’t stomach the thought of another second passing without feeling her against him. he only pulls away enough to mumble his next words, right there against her. “ actually, i keep thinking that maybe talking can just wait until later. ”

devon can’t stop the memories that flood her mind as they stand here together, in a home that was once theirs. can’t help but remember how it felt to come home with him after a long night out, tired and far too drunk, his arms wrapped around her as their laughter bounced off the walls, stumbling to their room to help each other carefully peel their clothes off before sliding comfortably into bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms. or how they would make breakfast together on slow weekend mornings, drinking coffee in bed and spilling half of it on the sheets, or evenings spent listening to him read to her, staying up too late talking about anything and everything. maybe that’s why she couldn’t fathom leaving this place, despite his absence— so much good happened here. there was so much love embedded in these walls, in each creak of the floorboards, in every piece of furniture they picked out together. and now she could almost trick herself into believing they had gone back in time, that this was just another one of those nights, where she could just lead him to their bedroom, kissing all the way there, but it wasn’t. or at least, it shouldn’t be. despite how her lips tingle to kiss him again and again, she knows they’ve already crossed a line. but hearing him echo just how much he missed her, too, blurs it even further in her mind. that always happened with him, didn’t it ? he was the exception to every rule, the only person she would do absolutely anything for, if he asked, no matter the consequences. it’s intoxicating, being this close, kissing him, touching him, feeling the warmth of his body against her own one more time. even if he wasn’t technically hers anymore, god, was she so fucking lucky to have him at all. remains close as she smiles up at him, pressing a soft peck to his cheek, lingering there for a moment. “ feels real to me, too, ” she whispers, so real that it’s almost visceral— her senses were overrun, her brain filled only with thoughts of them and the life they once shared, her heart overwhelmed with love and care. and it’s enough, just being here with him like this, but she can’t ignore that desire for more, even though she’s desperately trying to shove it down, to remind herself that there had to be some sort of boundary, that there were two other people to think about. it’s hard, though, when he’s kissing her, or looking at her like that, or when he reaches down to intertwine their fingers together so easily. fuck. “ me too. i've almost called you so many times, ” it’s followed with a squeeze of his hand, then, as her nose nudges against his own, tempted to close the gap and kiss him again, but she tries to hold onto any shred of self control she has left, just for good measure. even then, she doesn’t pull away. “ do you want to ? talk, i mean, ” she breathes, voice coarse. “ because we can. we should, probably, ” the words are a little shakier, now, as her free hand slides up to rest against his chest, curling against the material of his shirt as she leans in closer, lips skating against his. “ because i… i’m afraid that if i keep kissing you, i won’t be able to stop, and i’ll do something really fucking stupid, that i know i shouldn’t but that i can’t help because it’s you. ” — “ does that make me a terrible person, you think ? ”

[blackleatherjacketz]

Tell Me

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Notes: I've been stressed, I had a dream, don't judge me for this little drabble...

Warnings: Explicit Smut, 18+ Only!, Daddy Issues, Power Dynamics, Alcohol, Vaginal Fingering (Implied), Teasing, Talking You Through It

Word Count: 585

“Tell me what you want.” Desire melted his chestnut eyes to an inky black as they raked over your figure, that darkness finally reaching the very rims of his irises as he stepped closer to you. He held his breath as his palms carefully cupped your kneecaps as if they were coming into contact with something sacred, as if he’d been waiting ages just to touch you.

“Aaron…” You pleaded softly, still unable to believe that this was finally happening as he took a step further between your parting legs.

His hips were now flush against the kitchen counter as his thumbs tickled the skin of your inner thighs, his scent now flooding your senses. You’d caught hints of it before in mere passing… a hug here, a handshake there; that crisp, clean scent driving you absolutely wild as you often let your mind wander to places far too similar to where it is now. Only you never thought that you’d actually wind up here in person until the two of you finished that bottle of red tonight after work. Those fantasies you’d played out a dozen times were on the brink of coming true.

“Do you really need me to say it?” You felt your cheeks blush a brief yet scalding shade of pink, hoping that he wasn’t really expecting you to ask for it out loud.

“Yes.” That single syllable dripped with the authority he reserved only for his suspects, his whispered baritone cutting to your core as he spread your knees even farther apart. “I need to hear you say it.”

His command made you shiver as his fingertips began kneading the muscles in your thighs, forcing every inch of your skin to tingle with a twinge of prolonged anticipation that’s been building since the day you met. You could see the excitement growing beneath the black cloth of his dress pants as his hands traveled even further north, those well manicured fingertips of his already teasing the hem of your underwear as he ignored the evidence of his own growing arousal.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” His stoic tone faltered a bit as his fingers smoothed over the cloth that covered your swollen warmth, dampening a small spot on your panties.

“Yes,” you whispered back, his touch so electric it nearly sizzled up your spine.

“Then tell me.” He repeated, moving his fingers slowly up and down your length, rubbing over your clit just briefly enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want… I want you to keep touching me.” You admitted, eyelids fluttering as he spread your juices all the way across your underwear over and over again until they were completely soaked through, darkening their color.

“Like this?” He looked deep into your eyes as he slid two fingers beneath the saturated fabric, a hint of a grin curling at his lips as he touched your bare, sensitive skin. That grin turned into the first smile you’d ever seen on his face, your essence now coating his fingers down to the first knuckle as he spread it down your entrance, between your swollen lips and back up against your bud, tugging on it ever so slightly. “You want me to make you come?”

All you could do was nod as his magic fingers sent bursts of pleasure up through your skin and into your muscles, warming your entire body as your breath quickened.

“Good. Now say it out loud.”

[emmawithtwoms]

Moving staircases

@wolfstarmicrofic day 12 - 696 words

Just as he thought he would have reached safety, Remus felt the stairs moving under his feet.

“Moony!”

Fucking moving staircases. 

“Moony, wait! Merlin, I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past ten minutes! Will you just stop running from me?”

“I’m not running”

“Oh so that was what? Walking rapidly?”

“Sirius, what do you want?”

The staircase was moving painstakingly slowly under their feet.

“I just wanna talk to you, you’ve been avoiding me for the past week! I wanna know what I did!”

“And then what, Sirius?! Pretend like nothing happened? Forget we talked about it like you do every single time? Act like you were drunk the night before just because you don’t want to face reality?!” 

“Moony…”

“Oh don’t ‘Moony’ me, asshole! Don’t pretend like you don’t know exactly what this is all about! Every single time you kiss me, and make me believe that finally, Finally you’re gonna do something about… about this! About us, about whatever the fuck is going on! But noooo. The great Sirius Black is too above feelings, too above ties to just fucking stop and realise how much he’s hurting other people! And I’m here like an idiot, falling for it every single time! Well, I’m tired, Sirius. I’m tired of being you fucking puppet, I’m tired of being you emotional punching bag, who you go to whenever the weight of hiding who you really are gets too much. I’m not gonna let you ruin me just because you’re too much of a coward to accept who you are.” 

“Remus, please. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear! It was never about you!” 

“Oh it wasn’t? Really? So why would you crawl back to me every time?”

“That’s not what I meant!” 

Sirius shot his hand up in an apologetic way

“I-I just don’t know how to deal with… this”

“With what, Sirius?” 

Did the fucking staircase stop?

“With you-Us! I don’t know what it means, I just know that when whatever it is gets too much, you’re the only person I want around! Moony I’m begging you to believe me! I never meant to hurt you.”

Remus could not stand to look at his face, even in the scene they were causing in the, fortunately, empty staircase, Sirius did not give any kind of answer to Remus, just more questions. 

“So I’m just a what? A distraction? A way to get some weight off your chest?”

“What? NO! Merlin Moony no, you’re more than that, you know it.”

“Do I? Realy? Then what am I, Sirius? I am tired of being your dirty little secret. I am tired of the glances, and the winks, and the flirting, and the secret hook ups that you never mention the following day!” 

“YOU’RE THE REASON I CANNOT STOP FAKING ANYMORE! Please Moony, I always thought I could have hanfìdled this… thing in me, but then you came along, and I knew I was done for. I cannot control myself when I see you. The thought of waking up and not being able to touch you, hold you, kiss you… I’m desolated Moony, I never meant to make you feel unworthy or dirty, it was all about me, I thought I was taunting you, infecting you with whatever I had, and the voices in my head made me feel disgusted with myself after every secret rendezvous. But the truth is that I want you, Moony, more than anything in the world, I’m begging you, just- just let me…” 

Sirius was gripping the marble handrail so hard that his knuckles were white, tears were starting to form in his eyes and he was gripping his chest with his left hand, desperate for Remus to just turn around and look at him. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, Remus turned to stare into Sirius’s eyes, red rimmed hazel staring into stormy gray.

“No more secrets, Padfoot. No more pretending and no more girls. If you want me, you have me, but you gotta take all of me.”

“Yes, yes Moony, everything, please.” 

And as Remus finally got close to Sirius, the boys could feel the staircase reaching the other landing.

[pinkystyro]

The small talk. - Satoru Gojo. ִֶָ࣪☾.

꩜ STORY CONTEXT: You are the boss of a bakery where Gojo works as a waiter, but lately he hasn't been doing his job properly, so you call him to your office to have a talk with him, which ends in a very different way than you expected.

꩜ WHAT INCLUDES : Satoru Gojoxfem(reader), 3rd person, smut, OneShot dirty names, spanking, cum out, submissive reader, dominant Satoru Gojo, fingering, moaning, teasing, NSFW!!

Enjoy pookies!

₊˚ෆ I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE A LIKE AND A REBLOG !

You wake up on another morning, wash your face as usual and have your delicious coffee with milk and your usual toast. You get dressed and get ready to go to work, combing your hair delicately and applying makeup to your eyelashes carefully and perfectly, you moisturize and give shine to your lips with a pink balm that leaves a slight color on them.

Getting into your car you head to your office, you are the boss of a large food chain business, specifically a bakery.

You thought with determination trying to remember the pending tasks you had for that day “›Fix bathroom door…check warehouse…and something related to Gojo…shit…now I don’t remember well what it was about!!’’

Gojo was a waiter with white hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes who had been working in the bakery for a few months. He was quite attractive, you couldn’t deny feeling attracted to him…it was something inevitable!

You arrived at your shop, you greeted everyone except Gojo, why? Because he wasn't there, he was late AGAIN..

You let out an exhausted sigh and asked listlessly “What happened to Gojo this time?” Everyone looked at you with a face of having no idea why Gojo was late.

You entered your office and left your things on your desk, sitting down in your chair and turning on your computer to check your daily tasks. One of them was to have a chat with Mr. Gojo, since lately his performance had been declining and inefficient, you wanted to know if everything was okay, and there was even the idea of ​​firing him, because not only was he late and often didn’t even show up, but sometimes he fell asleep at work, he spent time distracted, either with his cell phone or showing off with clients… For these reasons, it was necessary to have a professional chat with him about his behavior. So you set about doing the other pending tasks you had while you waited for Gojo to show up.

“..Replenish strawberry frosting..done, call the plumber, done! I only have to talk to Gojo..I’ll go see if he’s arrived yet..” You left your office to find the boy sitting on a stool using his cell phone..

“Satoru Gojo!! To my office immediately!!” You said a little upset and after giving the announcement you turned around, entering your office and taking a seat in your desk chair.

Gojo immediately stood up, following you to your office and closing the door behind him. He stood in front of you and your desk. “Tell me Miss Y/N...what can I do for you?” Gojo said, looking at you somewhat nervously, his eyes scanning your body and your hands that had your fingers intertwined, trying to stay calm.

“Take a seat, this is going to take time..” You said looking at the files on your computer and returning your gaze to the boy once you had opened the file called -Satoru Gojo.- While you skimmed what the file said, you let out a sigh as your eyes met the boy's “I feel disappointed Gojo..” You said in a calm tone, without breaking eye contact. “Your performance at work has dropped, your good behavior and discipline…what happened?” You said as a rhetorical question as you stood up and leaned on the table in front of Gojo. “You’re on your phone every time I look in your direction, your waffles burn, your coffee overflows…and most importantly, you flirt too much with the customers…”

Satoru Gojo looked at you in astonishment and with a satisfied smile, raising an eyebrow he said “You’re right, I haven’t been the best worker, but I think you’re jealous, heh!” He said with a superior air as he bit his lower lip with a mischievous smile.

“Excuse me? Jealous? Could you argue that please?” You said formally, trying to maintain patience and composure, as you couldn’t believe what he had said, although he was partly right, seeing him flirt with the customers caused a kind of annoyance in you that you couldn’t explain.

“You say that the most important reason for all this is the fact that I flirt with female clients… that means you are jealous, isn’t it?” The young man said, getting up from his seat, standing in front of you with his arms crossed while licking his lips that formed a smile on his face. “Don’t worry Boss, you are much more beautiful than any of our clients.” He said, getting closer to you, resting his hands on the desk while looking into your eyes with a flirtatious smile.

“No.. I meant it that way.. you misunderstood me.. I eh..” You wanted to speak but you were so nervous.. his eyes met yours, your cheeks blushed and your nerves made you bite your lip.. shit.

“No? So you're saying that if I come closer to kiss you right now, you'd reject the kiss?” Gojo placed his thumb and index fingers on your chin as he raised it slightly to bring his lips closer to yours and make you maintain eye contact even more with his eyes.

“Well...I...” The young man left you completely speechless, you didn't know how to react, you didn't know what to say, you stood completely frozen in front of his lips, wishing they would finally meet yours.. “No...I wouldn't deny you the kiss..”

Gojo's lips formed a mischievous smile and then he said “That's what I wanted to hear.” he said in a seductive tone before joining his lips with yours in a kiss full of passion. Your lips returned his kiss without any resistance.

His hands moved to your waist, having a strong grip on it to intensify the kiss that soon became a wet one, with your tongues coming together, he bit your lip playfully as he brought you closer to his body. Your breasts pressed against his torso, your hands running down his neck, down his collarbone to his shoulders.

His hands went down to your hip where he slightly raised you to rest your butt on the table and continue kissing you. Your fingers intertwined in his hair as you kissed him intensely. His hands ran over every curve of your body, admiring how submissive you had become to his touch.

His hands rose to the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning them one by one, thus revealing your bra that Gojo quickly unbuttoned and threw to the floor, leaving your breasts exposed to his eyes. He grabbed one of them with one hand and began to move his kisses down your neck, towards your collarbone, while squeezing your nipple with his fingers, to finally begin to kiss the birth of your breasts and move towards the nipple, which soon ended up being licked and bitten by the boy.

Your body was shaking at his actions on you, legs shaking, your private part wet, sighs of pleasure that you let out... god, you were in heaven...

Gojo finally took off your shirt, still playing with your breasts... You slid your hands inside his shirt, taking it off too, caressing his shoulders and shoulder blades while he devoured your breasts desperately...

One of his hands that was holding one of your breasts slid up your thigh, taking off your underwear while you bit your lip from the embarrassment you felt from being so wet...

His hand slid down, pressing his middle finger against your clit while with the other hand he pinched your nipple and kissed you intensely.

His finger began to rub your clitoris lightly, while he slowly increased the speed, making you feel an indescribable pleasure..

Between kisses, you let out soft moans of pleasure..His hand rubbed intensely while the one that squeezed your nipple moved towards your face, positioning it on your cheek while he kissed you more passionately..

His fingers proceeded to insert themselves inside you, immersing you in immense pleasure..body trembling, moans coming out of your mouth, blushing cheeks..this was perfect..

You stretched your arm as best you could to unbuckle his belt and then his pants..thus removing his pants and underwear..revealing a large member that was hard as a rock from seeing you so excited.

“I want to hear you beg me to put it inside your pussy, show me your dark side boss..” Gojo said in a deep voice, as he bent his fingers to touch your G-spot..

Your back arched at that movement, losing complete control of your moans and your dignity.. In a soft and embarrassed tone you said “..please..I need you to put it inside me..now..”

Those words were enough for Gojo to take his fingers out of you and turn you around, pressing your face against the desk, lifting your skirt and revealing your ass, which for him was beautiful..

He spanked you and then placed the tip of his member aligned with the entrance of your pussy..holding you by the hips, he introduced his large member inside you, which made you let out a loud moan and then cover your mouth in shame.

He started to make movements back and forth, sliding his member inside your wet pussy, fucking you hard against the desk..

You couldn't stop your body from shaking, your moans flooded the room completely, Gojo's member hit hard inside you while sighs of pleasure came out of his lips.. “Y/n..your pussy feels incredible.” Gojo said in a hot tone, without stopping the constant movements inside you..

“oh god..Gojo..I'm going to..I'm about to..oh god..I'm going to cum..I can't take it anymore..” you said with your legs shaking, noticing how your pussy shuddered around his cock..

“Do it..make my cock wetter..let everyone know that I'm the one who fucks your pussy the best..” Gojo said, increasing the speed of his thrusts, noticing how your pussy shuddered more and more around his big cock..

You couldn't take it anymore and you came..leaving the office floor and young Satoru Gojo's cock completely soaked..”God..I'm going to cum anyway..” Gojo said before taking his cock out of you to shoot his cum all over your ass.

You both remained catching your breath for a few seconds before Gojo opened his mouth and said “Well..I hope this settles the matter, Boss.” He said pulling up his pants and then putting on his shirt to go back to work “I'm going back to work..if you need to fix anything else, let me know.” he said before giving you one last kiss while grabbing your buttocks tightly.

After that, the boy walked out of your office door, closing it behind him, leaving you completely satisfied and with the clear idea that you were not going to fire Satoru Gojo... in fact, you would need more talks like that with him.

[highslover]

Maeve’s storyline but right!

I have always though the Maeve plot line didn’t made sense and recently I read a fic (spencer reid x reader) where reader was a serial killer of serial rword and I thought how much better that could’ve been.

Maeve’s plot line was weak in many ways. My biggest pet peeve is that it was that aggressive from the start and Spencer did nothing, which I don’t find in character. That meaning her stalker (Diane).

Let’s assume his first consult with Maeve was pretty normal, how could he imagine she had a stalker? But in order to keep talking to her they went through using letters first. And maybe Spencer thought it was romantic and interesting, but pseudonyms? That’s a bit much.

Spencer knew all along about her stalker, he tells Hotch that much after she goes missing. So you are telling me Spencer found out this girl he likes isn’t leaving her house, she is hot using her phone and is using letters to communicate with pseudonyms to protect herself and didn’t do something? I agree he might’ve been respecting her wishes, but by this time Spencer has been working with the FBI 9 years, he is not naive as he was, he is a social protector, it just doesn’t makes sense he let it go that far.

Again, from the beginning is crucial here because I don’t think he would’ve let it slide just like that. If it had grown progressively while they were together, yes maybe their attachment would’ve clouded his reasoning, but by the time they started talking Diane had made Maeve quit her job and broke up with her fiancé so??? It just doesn’t make sense for HIS character. I believe that at leasttt he would’ve investigated by himself.

But non of that happened so the plot just doesn’t cut it. Instead, if it would’ve been a serial killer? That’s interesting.

Point 1. A serial killer who kills men that are serial rapist is in many ways human. It’s imposible to not like as audience. And Spencer is often the one who empathizes with the criminals (lol beautiful baby 🥺).

Point 2. Her story could’ve been a great episode, we could’ve seen how smart she was (something from Meave’s character) but at the same time how traumatized she was, her story, how evil are the men she kills. She could’ve been the same age as Spence, he could’ve done the interview, connect, blah, blah, blah.

Point 3. I think they could’ve find a way were they didn’t have anything to really hold the case, victims (of the men) not pressing charges and friends who offer alibis for her. So she makes a deal with Spencer because she is also tired and she knows she cannot stop. A letter once a month because she likes his big brain.

Point 4. She is arrested but gets her letter and Spencer gets his, where she is smart and interesting and whatever. Out of nowhere they are writing themselves not just once a month. And they talk every sunday. (Again part of Maeve storyline, everything was there!!!!) (Also I think she could’ve been an assistant for a geneticist and help him with his migraines)

Point 5. And everything is good and they form a bond but Spencer would never admit he likes her and maybe even feels something more, because he is a good guy. But in this time he starts to read every philosopher that has written about good and bad (also talk it with Blake!! best part of the Maeve plot).

Point 6. After this we are only missing her dying and I wish I remember the name of the fic but something similar could happen. In the fic she scapes prison with help and goes to find Spencer because she knows of a human trafficking organization and she wants to liberate them, so she kinda kidnaps Spencer and they go there. Because she wanted to do it, deep down Spencer knows this a suicidal mission for her.

Point 7. They get there, she gets kill by local police but she saves women and children and got to spend her last day or two with Spencer, the only person that made her wished everything she did never happened and maybe she could’ve have a great life.

And ta-da! we traumatized Spencer with an interesting plot that makes sense (at least for me). And far more complex I think, something that maybe even MGG would’ve like. But who knows, is this against copaganda???

[franki-lew-yo]

Worst year of your life so far

It's hard not to feel like every time a moderately good and nice or even great thing happens to me I ought to expect and inconvenience or a TERRIBLE thing to happen right after. This is genuinely why I'm afraid to be happy. I don't have an exact religion, I'm just certain that I am in fact an evil person or at least some evil person's revitalized soul. Since November of last year my life has been, in this order:

>Receive notice that I might owe SSI 15k because a miscalculation says they're overpaying me. I don't have 15k or stashed away 15k. I've been using every cent of money given to survive and pay back overdue fees. Life coach is sure I won't have to pay anything. I don't believe her.

>Find out that the location of my jobsite is being terminated within a week before the site is closed down. Can not be moved to a new location. The chain is dying. No location has room for me.

>Spend the days up to Christmas helping my coworkers who were a lot of times my only non-family communication, tear apart our store and then become strangers. The worst part is when they have me throw out hundreds of dollars of boutique clothes because the company wants to write it off as a reduction, DIRECTLY into a garbage bin. We'll be terminated from any further locations if we're caught trying to save or sneak away with anything. It's Christmas time and here's some clothes for needy people and my company is literally throwing them in a landfill. I just watch.

>Is repeatedly told by my job coach, REPEATEDLY, that I will get a job at a place which shares my old workplace's union. Nope. I don't. They string the both of us along for four months. By the time we move on to a new place in mind THAT job opportunity fizzles out after too many tries. My job coach and I have a fight and he doesn't talk to me or wants to see me. I feel nothing but shame. He and his wife are going through their own crisis.

>While ALL of this is happening I'm watching an active genocide a take place in real time. I try to do my daily clicks and boycott as much as possible. Come August I use up the rest of my unemployment money donating to any vetted fundraiser I can. I hope, I HOPE every time that THIS MONTH must be the last month of this slaughter. The powers that be have to do something...the answer is a resounding no. More and more innocent families are butchered. I can't offer anything really substantial.

>TWICE. TWICE IN ONE YEAR- my EBT gets cut off until I repeal it.

>My sister and I are both unemployed and in mental (in her case physical anguish). We blow up at each other more than once, especially over politics. She gets a job that she hates and is dangerous before the thankfully quits. She gets another job and is layed off for no reason in the same week she gets it.

>Can't afford a real dentist. Have to do a dentist-intern who tells me to watch my cavities that I have but no they can't do anything about it.

>My laptop's mouse stops working. It's fine for tablet but it means I need to use an external mouse for everything casual and writing. I'm already avoiding doing too much digital artwork on account of not wanting to wear down my system. Oh also my screen has a shadow on in.

>My mom is evicted from the house she and her boyfriend have lived in for years now and is forced to live in my grandpa's house which HE'S been forced to move out of. It was also a house I had lived in for awhile as well and so all of my sister and my own childhood things have to come back with us to our apartment. We don't have room. I'm going to have to downsize so many of my things.

>Catch covid because I was too stupid to bother with a booster. It delays getting me my new job and tasting anything for a month. Also delays me getting to work on the art I need done by September/October.

>Dog gets a bad flea infestation almost immediately after this because of summer heat. Also she wasn't on flea medication when it happened.

>My new job is two days a week rather than three. Lesser pay than what I used to have. All throughout October my schedule is cut to one day a week. I can never truly finish my job for my supervisors like they need to of me.

>Life coach assigns new job specialist; the one who got me my job. New specialist tells me all about Tiktok and how I need it and how I ought to download and post more on there. When I ask her for help navigating the platform and for her to help me on my social media art campaign; she shuts me out. Tells me repeatedly she's not versed in social media and tells me to instead take an online class. That's not what I want from her I want her to support me as an artist and that means occasionally just following my pages. She gives me a hard "no". Literally all my plans for a semi-active youtube, tiktok and instagram campaign fall apart. If I can not be supported even emotionally what's the POINT??

>I learn just this night how I unintentionally deeply hurt one of my oldest friends on the platform when I get the courage to ask if she's really upset with me or not. She blocks me mid me trying to ask for more information on the incident that hurt her. I do think I wronged her, but it's that I didn't even know I did that HURTS. Another one of my friends is right in the way of a frikin hurricane.

>Sister/Roommate is diagnosed with a condition that makes drawing difficult. I try not to draw near or around her as much as possible. It hurts. We are both still artists.

>Next door neighbor who's made creepy sexual comments about me to my sister throws dog poop on my sister's car at night. He thinks it's our dog even though I'M THE ONE picking up our dog's poop every single time.

and finally

>Country elects the same admitted fascist we kicked out for starting a riot.

Art, fandom and my dog is literally all I have. It is my one and only escape and happiness. I would be proud of myself and how much I've matured since just last year, but I can't. I can't be because I'm too miserable and so is everyone else around me. People tell me it's my fault or not my fault, people tell me I can help but won't or that I can't help at all. It's never enough. I wish I could be a better friend towards every one of you. I wish I could be a better creator. I wish I could find the time in my schedule to find a time in my therapists' schedule to see me again. All I ever feel like is an entitled garbage heap for even complaining when so many people are suffering to such an insane degree. Even the campaign people coming to me about how they want me to reblog their posts trigger me on account of how so many seem to forget they've already talked to me before. The fact that I am forgotten by circumstances where people can't remember anyone's username hurts me when it shouldn't.

I just want it all to stop.

----

And, for the first time, I actually want to thank you if you somehow read any of this. This is going to get deleted soon (or maybe not) because it is a trauma dump and TMI.

And yet I genuinely needed to get all of that off my chest. I am INCREDIBLY stressed out and hate to feel bad for myself because that just makes me hate myself and then feel more bad for myself AGAIN rather than do what I keep saying I want to do and help people. I wish this clarity and odd inner-peace wasn't brought about by such turmoil and inner pain. I wish that so much. I guess to quote Art Spiegelman quoting someone else: "Samuel Beckett once said: 'Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.'...but then again, he did say it."