#i dont do anything worth while im the worse i just keep trying to convince myself the opposite | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoodieofholland · 4 years ago

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Can u write a tickling war with best-friend!tom. Maybe Haz records them and post on insta so fans start to ship them ? ❤️

A/n: added some context first, got this idea and couldn't help but write it, hope you dont mind :)

Friends to lovers au - Actor!tom x best friend!reader

Warnings: none, just fluffy stuff

Masterlist

"Have anything planned for the evening, love?"

You hear Tom calling for you, but decide to keep reading the book on your hands nonetheless, not daring to avert your gaze to his face. Keeping a stoic face, you read through the lines of your book, though you're not really paying any attention to it. You just wanted to teach your best friend a lesson.

"Y/n? You here?" He chuckles nervously, trying to ease the thick air of tension he brought to himself. You were mad at Tom since last night, when he admitted he watched a movie with a girl, his date - a movie that both of you were excited to watch.

You shouldn't be so mad at it, you thought to yourself, but you were. Tom was your best friend, and you wanted all the best things for him, but that didn't mean putting any other girl above you. Knowing that he spent a precious time - which is pretty scarse for him because of his job - with another woman, watching your favorite movie together, drove you mad.

And, obviously, it did have something to do with your little crush on him, but you'd never - ever - admit this part.

"Y/n, darling, won't you talk to me?", he sighed, taking a seat on the couch besides you. You're taking most of its space, but he doesn't mind, touching your ankle ever so softly.

"I'm not your darling, for what I recall", you say in a cold and empty voice, flipping a page on your book.

Tom sighs heavily. He knows it's not true, but he feels hurt anyways. "Well, at least you're not giving me the silence treatment", he mumbles to himself, under his breathe. You look at him through your lashes, face still down.

"I would, if I wanted to", you flip through another page, "But came to the conclusion that it's not worth my time nor energy".

Tom grimaces, knowing you were joking, but not liking your tone. "Y/n, love, I've told you I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again".

His pleading voice touches your insides, and you squirm on your seat. Once you make the mistake of looking to his face, into those beautiful puppy brown eyes, you sigh in defeat, closing your book and putting it aside.

"It better not, Holland", you cross your arms. Tom wrinkles his nose.

"Don't call me that"

"Well, since you're in redemption, I think I might call you whatever the shit I want", you say, shrugging.

Tom opens his mouth in chock, but doesn't argument. "So, we're fine again?"

You pout, a fake deep in thoughts expression, before saying, "We'll see about that. For now, I rather be on my own company and maybe watch some of my favorite movies alone. Or maybe I should invite Haz"

Tom narrows his eyes. "Your favorite movies are my favorite movies", he says as a matter of fact.

"Yes, that's correct", you give him a victory smile and then get up from the sofa. "So, I'll be back in-"

Before you can finish your sentence or moves, a yelp scapes your throat by the surprise when Tom grabs your hips and pull you back to the sofa, your back landing on it not so softly.

"What the fu-"

"You're not gonna do it, y/n", Tom says, taking hold of your wrists and pinning both of your hands above your head. And though he was so talented on what he did for a living, you couldn't say he was playing the greatest role now, pretending to be stern and mad while hovering his body over yours. In fact, you could see his playful smirk on the corner of his thin lips. "'Cause now you're held against your will. And if you wanna watch those movies so bad, you're gonna take my company, you liking it or not".

"Unfair. You take another girl to watch what I wanted to, but I can't invite Haz, my incredibly friendly best friend?", you tease, wiggling your brows, but Tom's smile drops.

"He's not your best friend", Tom states, the grip on your wrists getting a little tighter.

"From now on, I decided that this is him".

Tom's face assumes an expression of doubt, just to fade to a smug one once again. "You're just jealous".

You arch your brows, incredulous. His breathing is so close to your face right now that you can sense your closeness, and if you're not imagining this yourself, it was very possible that the both of you touched each other's lips right now.

"Jealous of what?", you swallow thickly, eyes averting to his lips on them on. You can see his smirk growing immediately.

"Well, darling...", he emphasized, his accent thick enough to send shivers down your spine. "You're jealous of my date".

"Only on your imagination, Thomas", you split too quickly, which didn't make it any easier to swipe off that smugness on his face. If anything, it just made the whole situation worse.

"It's clear as water to me", he leans in, a wide smile plastered on his face, making his eyes wrinkle. The air seems to be stuck on your throat as he does so, and your heart scapes a beat when he gives you a sweet kiss on your cheek. "But you don't have to, sweetheart. You're the only girl I wanna around".

You know you shouldn't take this to the heart, but it's not up to you the tight feeling on your chest when you hear these words. You try yo convince yourself that he only says it as a friend, but something in his eyes, in the way he speaks those words with so much meaning slipping out of his lips, makes you imagine that wanted to share something else with you.

You sigh, feeling your walls break down. Tom was a charmer, you knew it already, but the way he spook with you, the sweetness of his words were beyond this part of his personality.

"You sound convincing", you try to say playfully, but you don't smile and stare directly into his eyes. He does the same.

"Because it's true", Tom tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, avoiding your eyes as he loses himself in his thoughts. "Yesterday, I realized that I was looking for something that I already have. Isn't it dumb?", he looks at you with a kind yet insecure smile. You give it back.

"Well, it doesn't surprise me". You heartbeat is so quick that you can bet he can listen to it, for the proximity. He's so pretty. You want to tell him that you feel like this, that you couldn't chase whatever you and Tom had, that this part of your life felt complete.

But the moment you part your lips to say so, Tom's smile widens and he releases your wrists just to take his hands to your belly. "You sure about that, love? Wanna take it back?", he says, a devilish smile playing on his face.

"Never"

"You asked for it, y/n", and then it all started. Tom started to tickle your belly, just on your weak point, where he knew you were more sensitive at. You quickly loose your air, gasping and laughing at the same time as he works his fingers on your skin.

"Oh, my God, Tom, stop!", you yell, rolling to the sides as you try to kick him away from you. Tom laughs' fill the air around you, and it's the most beautiful sound of your day.

"Make me, darling"

You fight with all your strength (and part of you believe he left his body loosen a bit, so you could have any chance to turn the game over). Finally, you're able to throw your body towards his and have him laying on the couch instead, your body over his as you tickle his neck, holding him im place by lacing his lower half with your legs.

"Not so funny, uh?" You tease, watching as his body squirms under you. You laugh along him, but it's not much time until he starts to tickle you back.

"What the hell you guys doing? Can hear you from across the-" Haz enters the living room, stopping in his tracks as soon as he catches the sight of his two friends in a tickling war. He chuckles silently, amused by the way you looked like a lovely couple already.

He knew about Tom's crush on you, and even though you'd never verbalize it, he had an idea about yours too. He sigh contentedly, a peaceful smile on his face, leaning against the door frame. The two of you don't even notice the moment he grabs his phone and point the camera at you, recording the scene.

Tom suddenly flip the two of you, propping himself on his elbows over you. "Say you're sorry", he demands out loud, still managing to tickle you.

"I- I have nothing- to be sorry abou-" you can't even speak an entire sentence, out of breath as you fight to win the battle. "You the one in redemption!"

Haz has to hold back his laughter. What two love birds.

He stops the filming when the two of you seem tired enough and are about to give up the tickling war. Making his way back discreetly, he opens his Instagram app and post the video as a Stories.

After the fight, reconciliation

Laughing to himself, he shakes his head and post.

Haz didn't know it by the time he posted the video, but by the end of that day, the internet would be overwhelmed with so many messages shipping you and Tom, who couldn't avoid the obvious fact that both of you were in love with each other anymore.

#tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #tom x reader #friend to lovers!tom #tom holland fluff #actor!tom #best friend!reader

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probably-haven · 3 years ago

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Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should.

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can. Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it.

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows.

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over-

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings. I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is.

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other- Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action.

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways.

-Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though.

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips.

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself.

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt. - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing.

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth. - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced.

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that.

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead.

#genshin impact #genshin xiao #genshin venti #xiao #venti #xiaoven #genshin analysis #genshin headcanons #xiaoven headcanons #xiaoven analysis #this is a mess i really shouldnt be putting all these tags but oh well #oh wow the grammar and spelling here is truly repulsive #sorry to all my english teachers i have failed you all

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mangomochi-yn · 4 years ago

Text

[volleyball with the aces]

haikyuu best boi aces x reader

g. all around fluff! (and crack :P) wc. 12-17 bullets/ea

contains. bokuto k., sakusa k., asahi a., iwaizumi h., ushijima w., futakuchi k.

bokuto

this hyper baby

the minute you suggest it he’s shouting in excitement

would immediately get ready to serve at you, even stopping practice

((but luckily akaashi stops him to let you gear up))

“whoa y/n you have to practice with me now! youre good!!”

always. i repeat aLWAYS exclaims (with glee) when you make a tricky move like a curved spike or a float serve

laughs when he has to sprint to receive a feign

v v tempted to show off his spikes but doesn’t wanna hurt you (awe bb 🥺)

so he’ll pretend to go really hard but then mid air just like *taps* the ball. asgshgshshdksl

overall super fun and super loud

he literally just turns into a ball of sunshine and youre just 💘💞

10/10 can’t get better than him

sakusa

this boi

ya gotta convince for a while

will be like why? what brought this? you want to get sweaty and dirty? are you that bored?

like bruh 😑

eventually gives in when u tell him u just want to play with him

plays normally for the most part

(he knows you can handle some of his spikes and serves 💪)

but he will lightly tease you with a curveball every now and then

oh and btw you’re geared up to the max before you start like 💯

— im talking knee pads, elbow pads, hair tied up and tight, compression shorts (absolutely NO loose and hazardous clothes), and dont forget double knotted shoelaces

afterwards? i m m e d i a t e shower

you better drink your water in 10secs cause he will not hesitate to scoop you up and throw you in there if you take any longer

all in all was the game worth all the time it takes to gear up and the 1hr shower after?

100% — that small smile he had as he played with you was a blessing in itself

will give you some pointers too after just cause he hopes to play with you more smoothly next time

8/10 ur very clean now. very refreshed

asahi

now we all know how unsure and nervous this jesus is

so naturally, once u ask him he’ll be like 😳 with me? why?

ur like “ur my boyfriend asahi, who else would i play with” 😐

“noya’s pretty fun to play with”

😑 bruh

just act all pouty and mad and he’ll be right on it though

plays softly, very leisurely

it’s as if you two were just.. passing the ball to each other (and it got a bit boring)

so you told him

asahi spike em balls pls ☺️

he laughs but eventually does and right then and there you remember how he is the a c e

1 dive turns into 2, 2 turns into 3, next thing you knew you were rolling all over the place trying to receive (noya’s v proud btw)

meanwhile asahi was having so much fun so ur just like 🥺 dont matter! anything for him!!

“that was so much fun, y/n!” your heart melts at how he beams at you after, he was sweaty all over but somehow he said he felt ‘refreshed’

i think ur confused bby

but anyways 8/10 protect him at all costs or u catch these fists

iwaizumi

like sakusa this boy will be a bit sus

like he’ll say yeah right away but will be like??

when you tell him you just wanna play with him he then turns a bit of a cocky bitch (unintentionally!!)

hes like “😏 oh? i won’t hold back yknow.”

lies.

worse than boku he def holds back

just receives all the time like boy?? wheres that strong ass spike form i fell for?

the minute you tell him to not be a 🅿️ussy though be ready cause he will get in the zone

— he decided he might as well use this for actual practice 💀

so in the end you’re dead. arms sore.

“we should do this more often babe its fun practicing with you” as he takes a swig from his water bottle shoving it to u after

how can you say no tho when you see that bright ass smile of his and hear his hearty laughter?

you lk regret asking but in the end what makes baby daddy happy — he gets 😪

another 8/10 at least u see the bara arms flex during the whole thing

ushijima

“huh okay”

ya kinda feel bad asking him cause he had to stop practicing but bbys like “no. we can play like you want it’s fine.”

and it’s like... hes playing with a child

(hes also part of the gear you to the max squad btw)

but anyways as he plays with u a few mins in you’re like 👁👄👁 boy what is this mockery

but then before you complain you now notice him gradually amping up his spikes— not just receiving as often any more (oh? 👀)

turns out baby boi was just assessing you it seems. agsshsksjjl what a man 💔

cracks a smile every now and then when you barely receive something while u shout-laugh loudly at him

then afterwards he hydrates u to the max

im talking g a l l o n s

(you got your 8 cups for the whole week now)

then offers to bathe or massage you if you’re too tired cause unlike u hes like so unaffected 😐

like one (1) single sweatdrop on his forehead and thats it

gives you pointers as he massages you too but overall says not to hesitate to ask him if you wanted to play again

another 10/10 baby’s perfect

futakuchi

sassy mf

“are you sure? i wont hold back you know.”

(him and iwaizumi — to the streets!)

((jk just him cause iwa is bae))

he’s still not done at just that btw

“did you want my attention that much 😘 im kinda busy tho” so u hit him with a “nah nvm then”

and this mf hugs you so fast and says he might as well since you asked (smh 🤦‍♀️)

and this boy..

he’s asahi but intentionally

— like why??? are you running back and forth the edges of the court???

“go go dateko!” he fuccin sings as he sees you run to where he received the ball to 💀

— the complete opposite side of where you were btw

will also urge and keep teasing you to try tricky moves on him

*loud fake gasp as you do a curve spike*

istg if you could still walk at the end of playing with him you wouldve drop kicked him instantly

smothers you with kisses and hugs, and offers to carry you home after though so you cant really be too mad 🙄

all in all 7 jelly legs out of 10 (hes lucky u love him)

a/n. i used to play varsity in my middle and high school vbc!! i loved being a pinch server but most of my days i was a wing spiker 😗 did one year as a libero and gave up immediately cause i had no idea how to dive properly (komori pls teach ur ways 🤲) i would literally sacrifice my w h o l e b o d y to receive every time

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missdawnandherdusk · 5 years ago

Note

So I saw the post where you said send in requests and i havent seen anything negating that, so uh, do you think you could write something (when you have the time and motivation of course please dont feel obligated (unless you want to) ) where people start noticing the way Draco flinches whenever someone makes a sudden movement and then all of the sudden one day he comes back to the castle after holiday and its so much worse and people start kinda trying to help and make his days better?

okay, here we go. And no one can convince me that no one at Hogwarts noticed that Draco was a victim of abuse but since Harry has the attention span of a goldfish, it wasn’t added that and JKR is a terrible person.

Also warning: this does talk about physical emotional and mental abuse. I want you all to know that you NEVER deserve it and never believe that your abuse situation “isn’t that bad.” You are cherished and loved and worthy and valuable.

okay, so the first year wasn’t too bad not that it wasn’t bad but, well Draco was innocent to any other way so he thought it was normal for his father to do what he did

Then things start to dawn on him that maybe no... this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Yet, whenever he asks a question against his father... things don’t end well for him. “But why are muggle-born so bad?” “What’s wrong with the Weasleys?” “Why are you so mean to the house-elves?” It never ends well, so he stops asking but now boy does he have a lot of questions and internal conflict that grows.

back to the point so someone drops a book/cauldron/glass something and Draco jumps and begins to panic “is his father mad? What did he do? How can he do better?” because he’s convinced that his father is on another rampage, but Crabbe just nudges his arm and he’s brought back to the present and that he’s not in trouble or danger

Snape is the first to notice because he knows what to look for in a child that has been abused at home, from personal experience, so he scolds the student who dropped the thing harshly

Our darling Hufflepuffs take note very quickly. In fact, there’s a support group at Hogwarts for kids who come from not so safe homes. Magical abuse or not, it's a group to just come and feel safe and like you’re not alone lead by Sprout and McGonagall

In Herbology with Draco, the Hufflepuff tells Momma Sprout about what they think is going on and boy is Sprout a momma bear looking out for Draco at every turn and looking into any records she can get her hands on

These kids from the support group start to become very worried about Draco because they’ve seen it all before and they hate seeing anyone else go through what they went through

They start to send him anonymous letters so that he’ll get mail in the mornings, and sneak sweets/snacks into his bag when they notice he’s not eating, or volunteer to be his partner in class

Boy is Draco confused

Which means he snaps a lot more and is rude and scared because he doesn’t understand why they’re being so nice to him

Alone is what I have, alone is what protects me

When Buckbeak attacks him, of course, he breaks down into tears because it’s all too familiar and he’s terrified that if he blinks he might open his eyes and it’ll be his father coming at him, not Buckbeak

and maybe he keeps the bandages and brace on longer for more than he needs it because it was a reminder that someone cared for him and mended his wounds and he didn’t have to do it himself

You think he just like Potions? Oh no, he’s had to make his own healing Potions all his life for the sake of keeping up the family appearance.

Luna Lovegood, the precious child sees right through all of it. Easily. And is a lot more confrontational about it than the support group, who did things more on the down-low. She takes all of his ridicule and taunts and snaps and lets him yell at her because she knows he needs to vent to someone

When Hermione pulls her wand out to attack him, sure, he could be a drama queen with all bark and no bite but maybe again it's too familiar and whenever there’s a wand in his face like that it ends with him in pain

That night Luna finds Draco in the Astronomy tower alone and just sits next to him.

He scoffs but after a while asks how can she deal with living alone with her father. She tells him that her father is the kindest person she knows and it finally gets through to Draco that how he grew up was not normal.

Luna tells him about the Support Group and he gets notes here and there as invitations, and maybe he decides to go one night

He’s surprised to see a lot of kids he knows. Luna goes and sits by some of her friends, Neville is there, and quite a few older Slytherins, and the Hufflepuff from his Herbology class who smiles and waves at him.

He realizes that these are all the kids who have been nice to him

He doesn’t share at all during the meeting (it’s sort of like AA where kids just go through and talk about what happens to them, if they’ve grown or made progress, what scared them still. The older kids offer advice and comfort and tissues because everyone cries)

He doesn’t share for a few weeks of meetings that he attends, but he doesn’t feel so hopeless anymore

Maybe now he doesn’t snap so much and maybe he’s not as scared anymore to let people in because he’s not alone and he realizes that everyone has their own inner demons and struggles

Fifth-year is the worst for him. With No Nose back, his father is vicious and ruthless and takes his pain and anger out on Draco.

It’s after easter break that he finally shares. “My... my father...”

Before he can say another word there are arms wrapped around him and hands on his shoulders and soft encouragements and consoles.

“He... he used the cruatious curse on me... and said that if I didn’t do it on someone else that he’d...” And Draco just breaks down into tears because he feels wicked and broken and ashamed.

He cries harder when no one judges him or yells at him or treats him differently. He’s still just Draco to them. The same thing happens when he tells them about the Dark Mark,

When he starts to slip through the cracks, the group vividly helps him like they’ve helped kids before him for generations.

Ravenclaws helped him study and find motivation when he started to fail his classes, Hufflepuffs show him how to have fun and take breaks and self-care, Slytherins are there in the common room on sleepless nights with tea and blankets, Gryffindors are there as a defense squad against anyone who wants to get to Draco and boy do they rip on Harry

But maybe Draco sees in Harry what the others saw in him. A kid who’s very fast with reflexes and has the same sort of anger and defense mechanisms that he did

Draco defends Harry from a Slytherin and Harry is confused and the Slytherin is confused but they back down

Harry just glares and walks away and Draco rolls his eyes and sighs

He sends Harry invitations to the Support Group but the golden boy never shows

When the Death Eaters kidnap Luna, Draco about loses it because Luna was one of the first ones who helped him grow

So he goes down to the dungeon and they still have their own little support group. Luna sees first hand what it’s like to be Draco especially when his father makes Draco use the cruatious curse on her

He cries and begs for Luna’s forgiveness and of course, he has it, she knows he never wanted to hurt anyone

At Hogwarts seventh year, he and the Slytherins who were a part of the support group are now also apart of the rebellion and Draco is livid about the punishments that Snape allows because how dare he allow physical abuse as a punishment and he gets an earful from Draco about it

Snape explains that it’s to keep him safe and Voldemort from suspecting anything and Draco just “I don’t give a damn about me or you! Stop hurting these kids! They’ve done nothing to deserve it!” And he’s in tears

Snape pulls back on his regimen a bit

Of course, Draco lies to his father about not knowing who Harry is. Why would he let his father win when Draco held the cards?

When Draco’s father calls him back to the side of the Death Eaters, he’s about to go because he is still afraid of his father but Luna takes his hand and so does the Hufflepuff from Herbology, and soon there are hands on his shoulders and arms, reminding him that he’s not alone and that he’s not the scared little kid anymore and he stands with Hogwarts

He and Harry eventually have a talk about growing up and the abuse they both suffered and Harry and Draco both grow as people and stop being so childish and put away the grudge and hatred for another

He takes a Slytherin girl under his wing in eighth year who’s two years younger than him and jumping at her own shadow. He brings her into the Support Group and helps her find some courage and self-worth

That girl is Astoria Greengrass

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87@artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the–queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @tulippings @thestressedprincess @sunflowerxsadnessw @caps-wilsonn @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @okaydraco @strawberriesonsummer @ughjjloveme @honeymarvel @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @peters-legos @quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @monimillion @howdycharlie @gnf847

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pigeonxp · 4 years ago

Text

YGCMA songs and how they relate to c!Wilbur based off of yesterday’s lore (in my biased opinion)

This is so dumb and i literally don’t care. I can’t think about anything else other than doing this synopsis even tho like 28480329204 other people are going to do it. idc.

(I listened to the songs earlier, and i’m also listening to them as i write the opinions. these are basically just my thoughts while listening tbh. im also not doing the full song, just some things i feel relate within each song)

- Jubilee Line

the lines at the beginning of the song, “hate to see you leaving / a fate worse than dying” could relate to how wilbur feels after tommy gets pulled back into the overworld. or, he could be referencing L’Manburg and how he hates to see his country leaving him (ouch).

then we have the lines “your city gave me asthma / so thats why im fucking leaving / and your water gave me cancer / and the pavements hurt my feelings”. This could be in relation to L’Manburg as a whole. He put everything he had into L’Manburg and it only ended up hurting him in the end. yikes.

now we have “shout at the wall / ‘cause the walls dont fucking love you” repeated. This could be in reference to when he said he was fucking kicking and screaming to get out of the train station. hes screaming and he doesnt care because it doesnt matter to him. it doesnt love him just like how the people of L’Manburg didnt love him. wilbur get therapy challenge.

so based on the lore from yesterday, we know that c!wilbur’s limbo was a train station (props to fanartists. i love you.), presumably the YCGMA album cover type deal. when he sings “Theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the tube line / theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the rails” repeated. if the train station looks like how they do on the album cover, there could be barriers where he is. maybe hes trying his best to just kill himself over again by jumping onto the tracks. just in an attempt to escape. jfc

“theres a reason they fail”. he was still in the train station, wasnt he?

- Saline Solution

for this one, i feel like hes pretty far into the void and regretting his decision to have phil kill him. hes tired of being in a fucking train station for years on end.

“i think this time im dying / im not melodramatic / im just pragmatic beyond any / reasoning for thinking ive got / fuckin rabies or something.” hes so fucking sick of being in this goddamn train station and he thinks hes dying. hes so pent up and sick of being there, maybe hes just in so much pain that he feels like hes dying. if hes been there for a while, hes probably bound to go crazy at some point, hence the “pragmatic beyond any reasoning.”

“I think ive lost my mind / blurring the fact and the fictions” this feels like he really does believe hes going crazy and is mixing up the things he really knows and the things his mind is creating for him. maybe this is when tommy first arrived and he cant tell if he real or not (thats a stretch but i figured id share it anyway.)

“I think ive made my choice / im a deceased playing victim / slip the face, slip the victory” he quite literally says that hes a deceased playing victim. hes literally saying hes dead HAHHAHAH anyway. maybe hes blaming himself again, because us c!wilbur apologists all know that hes very good at doing that.

“Sit secluded in hatred /.../” hes sitting in a fucking train station for god knows how long beating himself up over and over again and just hating himself. hes all alone. with himself. someone he fucking loathes.

this is honestly all i have for Saline Solution, but i will definitely add more later if i get different theories.

- Since I Saw Vienna

This is my favorite song on the album and my comfort song so that could factor into this bit ahaha

im going to skip through this one a little bit and go to the line “The roads are my home, horizons my target / if i keep on moving, never lose sight of it / treating my memory of you like a fire, let it / burn out, don’t fight it, try to move on” this sounds like hes reminiscing on his home in L’Manburg and his presidency was something he relied on and he would fight to get it back, but now that hes dead and said that it should remain that way that he should just let it go. trying to move on from his symphony, forever unfinished.

“its been sixty weeks since i saw vienna / a bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face / ill pick up my hiking boots when i am ready / and ill put down my roots when im dead.” THESE LINES FUCK ME UP IN GENERAL BUT HOW THEY RELATE TO C!WILBUR RN IS JUST SUIBHYSBUSHDXNSKJDNHBD YK???? in the context that vienna is L’Manburg and he died, its saying that its been a long ass time since hes seen it and hes faking being okay about his death. he misses it but doesnt want to admit it. the picking up the hiking boots when hes ready is him moving on from his L’Manburg, and putting his roots down when hes dead is finally being okay with not living there/being an important part of it. he believed his death was the best for the people in L’Manburg and L’Manburg itself. it seems like hes still trying to convince himself.

“Ill be gone then, for when you must be alone.” hes gone. hes dead. hes in the train station. he left the L’Manburgians alone and hes alone in his limbo. man.

- Losing Face

this song is angry. hes so fucking angry. my thoughts are that this is about the following presidents after him. he feels like the L’Manburgians were happier without him and im pretty sure he believed that even when Schlatt was president. this is so evident in the lyric “Is he better than me?” Hes literally asking if the other presidents were better than he was. he doesnt believe he did everything he could to be the best president, even though we all know that he gave everything that he was into that country and then some. he broke himself for the L’Manburg but he doesnt believe hes enough. sheesh.

“Ive seen him / ive been him / ive felt the same way” even though he cant see the new presidents being president, he knows what its like. he knows that they might break under the pressure. hes been there. he knows how if feels. yikes.

“Ive lost all meaning / ive lost my sense of hope” this feels like when he was nearing the end of L’Manburg when he blew it up, and that he feels like trying to win it back is pointless. he has no hope for it anymore, so why not give up? his mental state is already shit yk so i cant really blame him for feeling that way.

“i dont care / i want you here / as long as youre happy, i dont care” this line. this fucking line. hes lost hope in being president, but he doesnt care. he just wants the L’Manburgians to be happy. that was his whole thought process while he was president. he didnt matter to himself, he just wanted them to be happy. he sacrificed his mental state for them. cries in wilbur apologist.

- Your Sister Was Right

this is my second favorite song on the album i think HAHAHAH

anyway

“I use everyone i ever meet / i cant find the perfect match / abuse those i love / while i ostracize the ones who love me / back.” wowie wow wow fucking ouchie. He feels like he uses his friends. this whole thing is a projection of his shit ass mental state rn fucking hell. he feels like hes abusive. thats what everyones been telling him. they tell him he was awful and a shit president and all that jazz even though hes been killing himself trying to be the best for them but its still not enough (pigeon projecting? more likely than you think)

“every time that i miss you / i feel the way you hurt / and i dont deserve you / you deserve the world / though it feels like we were built / from the same dirt.” man. hes dead lol. he misses the L’Manburgians. not only were they his supporters, but they were all his friends too. every time he misses his friends he feels their pain of when he first blew up L’Manburg. he feels like because he caused them all pain that they dont like him and that they never liked him and that he is undeserving of their friendship. he still wants to be friends with them. he still loves them. he still wants the best for them. he thinks theyre so much better than him even though they all created L’Manburg together. in reality they are all the same, but their actions impact each other and he feels that his actions make him worse than them or less than. fuckisonmdfnpbhife

“and i hate to say it / but your sister was right / dont trust english boys / with far too much free time” sister is dream mayhaps. fuckngeionsfjg that hurt sorry uhhh anyway yeah sister is dream?? he did say that wilbur would be a shit president and he believes that hes a shit president so he thinks they were all right about him being a shit president fbhjebinfnejg. maybe sister is just everyone who didnt believe in wilbur. man....

“a fucking waste of time” do i even need to explain this one? he fr doesnt belive hes worth it anymore and that hes literally a waste of time. hjkfbhnfve

- La Jolla

this one feels pretty far into train station limbo to me as well. namely from “and im lonely / there i said it” this could either be him being lonely as president and feeling like he doesnt have anyone to talk to really because hes too busy trying to hold himself together for everyone. either that or hes lonely in the station and didnt want to admit it because this is what he wanted. he wanted to die. he wanted to be dead because he believed thats what everyone else wanted and he just wanted the best for them.

“i could go away / i could pack my things and be gone before you wake” he could leave if they asked him to. he would do anything for them.

“you know ive tried hard to love me too / it always seems to fall in, through” this line already physically pained me but now it hurts even more having to relate it to a character i love. we already know that his mental state was declining as his presidency continued, but this would confirm that hes just trying to love himself even though he can never seem to get it right.

“my own personal sunset” this is just the ‘this is my sunrise’ line but different. my man misses the sun. fuck.

- I’m Sorry Boris

this song is almost definitely from a long ass time in the limbo.

“and im sorry / but, boris / im leaving / im not good for anyone here” boris represents L’Manburgians!! hes talking about how hes leaving the world by planning on killing himself. fuck.

“we reached the end of a decade” mans been dead for a decade. sheesh.

he then goes on to say that he cant believe hes leaving, he doesnt think he wants to leave them, but he thinks its whats best for them.

he talks about how they do all of these bullshit things before helping you and i know its in reference to london but for the sake of my sanity its about the presidency role and how it will fuck you up before bothering to help you not want to kill yourself.

should i do a separate post about how i visualized it/about how i thought about the song in paragraph form like a lowkey explanation? idk how to explain it but in this one i wanted to just cover some of the lyrics of the songs and my thoughts on them. i think c!wilbur wrote these in the limbo after he died. i know this is also shit and Not Good, but i really just needed to get my thoughts out before it killed me. i also didnt reread this. its probably repetitive and shit yk. i do Not Care. id also love to hear thoughts on this if yall want to. if you made it this far i love you please hydrate and eat today and youre so sexy ahaha

“and even though im finished / im not quite done with it” even though hes finishing his symphony by blowing it up, hes now realizing he wished he hadnt blown it up and that he hadnt killed himself. man.

#tw death #tw suicide #wilbur soot #ycgma #dream smp #tommyinnit #dream #c!wilbur #fuck i love this album

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unsettledink · 3 years ago

Text

Gotcha Chapter 6!

(Trying something new and posting the full text here as well as AO3? It feels too long, but I’ve posted longer things here before, Idk.)

Read on AO3

Peter: sorry im on my way!

Peter: iswear im just running late

Peter: i will be there supr fast!!

Peter: sorry!

Quentin stares down at his phone and somehow, manages not to sigh. It’s a full ten minutes past when they were supposed to meet, and he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place.

Quentin: Don’t worry, it’s fine.

Peter: im sosorry

Peter: my alarm got set for tomorroow instead of today

Peter: i dont even know how

Peter: adn i just woke up and i dont even sleep this late like ever

Peter: but i willl bet there soon i promise

Peter: sorry!

Quentin: Really, it’s fine! There’s no hurry.

Quentin: We’re not exactly on a schedule or anything.

Peter: its so rude tho

Peter: for once it wast me losingt rack of time!!

Peter: im still sorry!

Quentin had given himself a little extra time this morning, just to remind himself of all the many, many reasons he is doing this, in this particular way. Had spent that time summoning up every bit of patience he could find to get through this day, because he had a feeling he was going to need it.

It feels like he’s already used half of it.

And of course he won’t be able to comment on Peter’s lateness, not even as a joke.

Peter: im like hafway there already illl just have to chagne and then ill be there!

Peter: seriously i am so sorry

Normally he’d be all for hearing Peter apologize, but it keeps happening every other word, Quentin will lose his mind.

He’s already losing his mind.

Well, he’s not going to just stand here until Peter does show up. He glances around for somewhere to sit; there’s a coffee shop just across the street. Perfect. He’s going to need that.

Quentin: Hey, don’t rush!

Quentin: I’ll just grab a coffee okay?

Quentin: I’ll be over at Kaldi’s, it’s just across the street. Can’t miss it.

Quentin: You want anything?

Peter: you dont haveto!

There’s no stopping the sigh this time. God.

Quentin: Not what I asked, kiddo.

Peter: um

Peter: suure?

Peter: someting with carmel i dont care mych

Peter: ill be there realy soon tho!!

Quentin: Then we can just sit for a bit.

Quentin: You’ll probably need it if you just woke up.

It’s a little funny how… drastically downgraded Peter’s texting is when he’s apparently still half asleep. Or maybe it’s just that he’s in a hurry. Or—

Quentin nearly stops in the middle of the sidewalk. He— surely, Peter isn’t—

Quentin: Are you texting AND webswinging?

Peter: …maybe?

No wonder he goes through phones so fast.

Quentin: You’re going to drop your phone

Peter: hey! imst icky! i wont drop it!

Quentin: Then you’re going to fall from being distracted

Quentin: And I won’t feel sorry for you.

Peter: :(

Quentin: I’ll laugh

Peter: :( :( :(

Quentin: You brought this on yourself.

He spends the time until Peter gets there reviewing Lynn’s newest plans for the miniaturized drones; they actually aren’t too bad.

Of course, they’ve probably had them sitting, waiting, for months, what with how they’ve harped on and on about how this should be a priority.

It won’t do to let them get too full of themselves, so along with the praise he sends back plenty of potential revisions. Even brings up some entirely new bits for them to consider; should keep them busy for a bit.

“Hi!” Peter says, flinging himself down across from Quentin. He’s flushed and still out of breath, his hair sticking up. “I’m here! I’m so sorry!”

Quentin allows himself a slightly amused smile. “Hi,” he says. Pushes Peter’s drink—some sort of ridiculously sweet caramel flavored thing that’s barely coffee at all—across the table to him. “Sit. Drink. Relax a bit, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, running a hand through his hair and only making things worse. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry, though. I’m just… it’s really embarrassing to be that late when this was my idea in the first place and—”

“Peter,” Quentin says, cutting him off. “Breathe! It’s fine, I promise.”

For once, Peter listens, and takes a deep breath, holding it in for a moment. Lets it out and relaxes the smallest bit, and grabs his drink. “Oh,” he says. “This is good! Thanks; you were right about me needing it.”

Quentin watches while he unwinds; Peter’s latest idea regarding ‘things they could do together’ was to show Quentin around Queens, so today they’re wandering. Quentin’s thrilled.

It could be worse. Peter had been all set up to take him to the most popular, well known, touristy spots, and Quentin had barely been able to hide his dread at the thought. It’d taken a little work, but he’d manage to convince Peter that Quentin would much rather see Peter’s favorite places. Even if they were nothing fancy or exciting, or little hole in the wall type places, or silly.

Even if they bored Quentin to tears.

Not that he can let Peter see even a hint of that. There’s a special kind of… vulnerability in sharing the smallest things you like, something different than exposing the larger, more damaged pieces of yourself. Something oddly hopeful about showing someone the unexplainable, intimate things you like and waiting for them to enjoy those things as well. Or at the very least, not reject them, in a way that suggests they’re rejecting your tastes as well.

Not rejecting you.

He’s started to prove to Peter he can handle the bigger things, the superhero stuff and the feelings nearly suffocating Peter; time to show that he can be trusted with the little things too. That Peter can come to Quentin with anything at all. Anything. Everything.

“So,” Quentin says. “What’s first?”

He was right; it is pretty boring. Not… awful, surprisingly, but not Quentin’s sort of thing at all. Peter’s apparently decided to try and cover as many miles as he can in one day, dragging Quentin from one end of Queens to the other. And then back; Quentin’s going to take tomorrow off for sure. Peter just has so much energy.

Has so much enthusiasm, Quentin thinks, as they poke through a small used record store that isn’t nearly as hipster as he expected from Astoria. So, so much enthusiasm, for the smallest things. It just bursts out of him once he gets comfortable and isn’t second guessing every single word he says.

Once Quentin has seemed interested in the first few things Peter shows him. Peter’s nervous about it, trying to explain away any shortcomings before Quentin’s even gotten in the door. He’s just desperate for approval, for acceptance. For Quentin to like him.

It’s not that hard to, actually.

It’s never been that Quentin dislikes Peter. Sure, Peter’s causing him grief and can be incredibly annoying, and sure, about half of what he feels for Peter is pity, but those can exist alongside the fact that Quentin kind of likes Peter.

Has liked him, ever since he started compiling research on him, ever since he’d met Peter as Mysterio and shook his hand and watched him get so excited over the existence of multiverse. It’s harder not to like Peter, not even a bit. He’s ridiculously smart, and stupidly good-natured, and—

He throws himself into everything he does; goes full out, with his heart on his sleeve. It’s no wonder he gets anxious as hell, if his first impulse is to practically flaunt all his soft spots, open and eager and expecting the best. It’s going to go poorly more often than not.

Must have, judging by the way Peter pulls himself in and hides, overrides that instinctual reaction so quickly it’s just a flash, a glimpse Quentin keeps catching again and again. He’s been taught to second guess himself somewhere along the way, by someone—probably a lot of someones—who saw those tender spots and couldn’t help poking them, taking advantage of them.

Just like Quentin’s doing; Peter should be better about spotting that sort of thing by now.

It’s almost a shame to fix Peter just to tear him apart completely, to have to use him like this, but… well. In the end, Peter’s nothing but another obstacle scattered in Quentin’s path. There are far more important things to worry about than the fate of one kid.

Peter grins at him when Quentin admits that this dinky little secondhand bookstore in Jamaica was worth a stop, even if it’s just for the most comfortable couch Quentin has ever sat on. Smiles when he points out a mural he loves on the way to the next attraction and admits he’d actually webbed up someone who started to tag it.

Straight up laughs at Quentin’s face when Peter shows him the most supremely creepy things in some huge thrift store, full of weird antiques and vintage crap. God, it’s disturbing that the things Quentin had as a kid, even as a teen, are considered vintage now.

“Jesus, Peter,” Quentin says after he has to look at a one hundred percent haunted taxidermied squirrel. “Why would you make me see that? I’m going to have nightmares.”

“For that exact face,” Peter says. “Oh my god, you look like you think it’s going to bite you!”

“It might,” and it’s unfair that Peter just laughs harder. He glares at Peter, but it might be slightly put on.

He’s allowed to like Peter a little, Quentin decides, watching Peter nearly double over with giggles. It’ll make having to deal with him easier, if nothing else, and it’s not as though liking someone has ever stopped him from using them—even disposing of them—in the past. It sure won’t this time.

They wander some more, Peter chattering on and easily filling the silence as long as Quentin remembers to make the appropriate listening noises occasionally. Every now and then, Peter hesitates, a nervous stumble in his words, something throwing him off, and Quentin reengages fully. He can’t afford to let Peter get too caught up in his thoughts.

But a few questions—carefully designed to make Quentin seem far more interested than he is—are enough to get Peter going again, bouncing from place to place until Quentin suggests they could use something to eat.

“Oh my god, yes,” Peter says. “I’m starving and didn’t even realize it. Ooo, last time we were down here, Ned and I found this awesome truck that does crazy good Korean barbeque, you’d love it.”

“No,” Quentin says without thinking, the sweet tart burnt smell so strong he can nearly taste it, can feel it stinging when he draws in a breath.

He twitches, shrugging it off, and tries to walk back how sharp that had come out. “Uh, I’m not big on sweet sauces and meat?” he says. “Got another recommendation?”

Peter drags him to a place that has the weirdest chimichanga combinations—and normal ones too, thankfully—and once again, attempts to pay.

“You know,” Quentin says as he pokes Peter out of the way, immensely irritated that Peter is still pushing him on this. “I didn’t realize your memory was this bad.”

“Hey!” Peter says. “It’s not! What are you talking about?” like that doesn’t prove Quentin’s point exactly.

“I seem to remember a bet I won,” he says, “relating to this exact situation.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it. “Um,” he says.

“Yeah,” Quentin says,raising his eyebrows.

“Okay,” Peter says, “okay, you can’t blame me for trying!”

“Hmmm,” Quentin says, passing over one of the foam trays. “You’re forgiven. This time. Just don’t do it again.” It’s always a good idea to get Peter into the habit of following Quentin’s rules, of remembering not to challenge Quentin too much.

Of remembering that Quentin will forgive him anything, easily.

“Fine,” Peter says through a mouthful, so mature.

They eat on the way to the next stop on Peter’s little tour; Quentin had been hoping they were approaching the end, but when Peter looks at him and asks, so hesitantly, if Quentin is tired and wants to call it a day—

Well he can’t say no.

Quentin finds himself dragged on to little half hidden shops, with any signage and down stairs that Quentin has to ask how Peter could have found in the first place. To statues Peter likes, to places he feeds pigeons—why he’d want to, Quentin doesn’t know—places with great views of the Hudson.

And, over and over, once Quentin catches on and starts pushing it, places to eat. Because Peter’s metabolism is a thing of wonder.

It’s interesting watching Peter banter back and forth with an older man about his sandwich; Quentin had gotten the impression Peter was uneasy around strangers, all his awkwardness amping up. But the way Peter’s interacted with people today is much more relaxed, much easier. Peter has a sharp sense of humor that Quentin has only started to see, as Peter gets comfortable around him.

Why do all these strangers get it right off the bat?

He watches Peter dart over to help get a stroller over a curb and— they’re not strangers. Not really. It’s not just that everywhere they’ve gone is somewhere Peter has been again and again, to the point where he knows people.

This is Peter’s home ground. His comfort zone, and the people in it— they’re his people. And when he’s helping them, his nerves disappear. His awkwardness becomes a tool of its own, disarming, downplaying the threat Peter could so easily be.

This is what he wants to be when he’s Spider-Man; the guy on the street, helping in a hundred tiny ways.

That’s fine with Quentin. Perfectly fine; now how does he get Peter to stay there, with EDITH looming over his head?

He can practically hear that in William’s voice, ugh. He’s working on it.

They wind up in Kissena late in the afternoon, almost early evening, really. Peter steps off the path once they get into one of the more wooded areas, and there’s a grassy spot past a few bushes, with a truly massive tree near the center, smaller ones scattered around it. It’s well hidden.

“Alright,” Quentin says, as he has with every other place, “what's the story behind this? How’d you find it?”

“So, when I got bit, when everything changed?” Peter settles down at the base of the tree, cross legged. “One of the things that was like, a huge pain, was how all of my senses got crazy amplified. Everything was turned up to eleven, you know?”

Quentin sits across from Peter, stretching his legs out as he leans back. Ugh, grass; he’d better not end up with bug bites. “Okay,” he says. “Sounds like that was pretty overwhelming.”

Peter groans. “You have no idea! It was really hard for a while, because even once I started to get used to everything being too loud and too bright and too smelly and— things tasted weird and my clothes made me feel like my skin was crawling and it was—” He stops, tipping his head back against the tree and looking upward.

“It was a lot,” he says. “Eventually I sorta started being able to deal with all that sort of… feeling stuff? I mean, physical, sensory, not like feeling feelings.”

Coherent; Quentin does not roll eyes through sheer force of will.

“But I was still really struggling with the, um,” Peter frowns, tips his head back further until Quentin can’t really see his face. “The stuff in my head. Actually doing things, thinking about things or even focusing on one thing was all so hard. It was like…”

“It was like what?” Quentin asks, after a few moments have passed.

“Everything was a distraction,” Peter says, slowly. “That’s still not right, because normally, before, I’d get distracted thinking about something else I wanted to do, or I’d be daydreaming, or, um, just, good stuff? Stuff that I’d want to focus on, just not right that second.”

“This wasn’t like this.” Peter looks down and starts to fiddle with a bit of grass, pulling up blades one by one. “This was like so much noise inside my head, like every little detail about every single thing was right there, grabbing my attention. I’d be trying to do one thing and all that would be clamoring at me nonstop.”

He closes his eyes, scrunching his whole face up. “People talk about wanting super sense a lot,” he says, “but it sucked so much at first.”

“People generally don’t think through those kinds of wishes very much,” Quentin says. Honestly, for the most part people don’t think at all.

“I’m pretty much okay now,” Peter says. “I figured out how to filter things most of the time; when there’s a bunch of stuff at once I can get so caught up in trying to ignore it that I ignore everything, and then that’s it’s own problem.”

“I noticed,” Quentin says, dryly. “Makes you pretty jumpy.”

Peter huffs, almost a laugh. “Yeah,” he says, brushing the ripped up grass off his pants. “I’m still working on getting the kinds of focus right?”

Quentin leans further back on his hands, crossing his legs. “You said something about focusing on me that one time,” he says, and Peter goes faintly pink. “That the sort of thing you’re talking about?”

“Something like that,” Peter says. “If I have one thing I can focus on, almost completely, then I can make it into… uh, white noise, I guess? Or it makes everything else into white noise. If that makes any sense at all.”

Not one bit, but whatever. He can press that later. “Sure,” Quentin says, waving his hand. “I’m following.”

It’s actually something to consider— if Peter manages to function better in difficult situations by focusing on one specific thing, what happens when that thing is taken away? Is ripped away from him, in fact. Would there be a moment of disorientation they could take advantage of? Maybe they could set Peter up to focus on what they want; he’s already using Quentin as a focal point, apparently.

He’ll have to watch Peter, Quentin thinks. This fumbling little explanation leaves a lot to be desired, but he doesn’t have much faith Peter actually could explain it better even if he tried.

“That helps,” Peter’s saying, “but it’s still really exhausting after a while. Sometimes I want to just… stop. Just not feel it at all, not have to try not to feel it.”

He glances at Quentin, and Quentin nods. Peter looks oddly shy, so he’d better pay close attention to what he’s showing.

“I’ve found a couple of places like this, but this is probably my favorite,” Peter tells him. “I can come here and actually relax. If I stop trying to block things out, or stop focusing on one thing, it doesn’t matter.” He tips his head back again, looking up at the tree.

“It's quiet here, pretty much all the time,” Peter says; the light through the leaves is diffuse, dappled on his face. “Even the noises that I get are like, soft things. Leaves and wind and things walking on grass. People talking, yeah, but that’s more distant and almost like background noise. It’s still shadowy in here when it’s super bright out, and there aren’t any super gross strong smells either. Just dirt and water and uh, green stuff.”

He darts a glance down at Quentin without moving his head. “Don’t laugh at me!” he says, and it’s right on the edge of plaintive. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I’m not,” Quentin says. He understands; it’s not something a city kid would be around that often, would probably even notice without senses like Peter’s. “I wouldn’t. I know what you mean, Peter.”

“Okay,” Peter says. Looks back away from Quentin and then closes his eyes. “It’s nice. And when I have to go back to the real world, it’s not quite as hard to handle.”

Quentin watches him. Watches as he slowly, slowly unwinds. Peter doesn’t move, aside from his head tipping slightly to the side, and Quentin—

He’d thought, earlier, that it was interesting how much Peter loosened up around people he felt comfortable with, places he felt safe. He’d thought it was a large degree of relaxation—and it was—but it was nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to the way the tension drains from him with each passing second, from every single bit of his body, until he looks calmer than Quentin has ever seen.

Happier.

If this is how he looks when truly relaxed, the level of stress Peter must carry with him every day, everywhere he goes—from the physical tension to the mental, the anxiety, the constant background level of effort that other people don’t have to think about—must be ridiculously high.

He doesn’t want to say anything, do anything, that would break the stillness that seems to have spread over the entire glade. Poor kid. He might be doing a great job at being a pain in Quentin’s ass, but he isn’t cut out for this superhero shit.

Everything Quentin sees just convinced him further that taking EDITH from Peter really is doing him a favor. He’d never intended for that to be true, but— it’s not a terrible byproduct.

Peter sighs eventually, a barely there breath of a thing, opening his eyes halfway. He looks dazed, almost half asleep.

At least, until he notices that Quentin is watching him, and then he flushes. Looks down, the moment dissipating. “Anyway,” Peter says. “It’s— it’s a nice place for me,” like he’s admitting something embarrassing.

“I can tell,” Quentin says, offering him a small smile. “You deal with a lot every day, don’t you.” He shifts against his tree, trying to get more comfortable without Peter noticing and getting all fussy about it.

“I guess,” Peter says.

He picks up a leaf, twirling it through his fingers absently. “It’s getting really frustrating,” he adds. “Because it’s been almost two years, right? So I should have a better handle on this! I shouldn’t still be getting tripped up by such little things. And—” he makes a face, shoulders starting to hunch again.

“So I have this… this sense? Uh, I call it a spidey sense— I know, it’s kind of stupid. It sort of warns me about things? Like someone poking me, or shouting that something bad is about to happen.”

“Mmm, you mentioned that once,” Quentin says. “Sort of like a limited precog?” Honestly, he’d dismissed it— not fully, it wouldn’t do to completely dismiss anything about Peter. But it hadn’t seemed like it did much for Peter in Europe.

And it hadn’t picked up anything about Quentin, so how good could it really be?

“Oh, huh,” Peter says. “I hadn’t really thought of it like that? Maybe, but it’s not very exact. Sometimes it’s super obvious, but others it takes me a while to figure out what’s wrong. And lately, especially, it’s been— it’s gone kinda nuts? I don’t feel like I can trust it anymore.”

“Like, like right now?” he adds. “Right now it’s just going off like something really big and bad is happening, but come on!” He throws his hands up, exaggerated. “We’re just sitting here talking! Nothing, literally nothing bad is happening. It’s freaking out for no reason.”

Fuck.

Maybe he really shouldn’t have dismissed it, Quentin thinks, trying to stay as relaxed as he was a moment ago. Maybe he really fucking shouldn’t have, because some part of Peter knows that Quentin’s not good news. Knows that Quentin is something dangerous, is a threat.

And apparently knows it very, very insistently. Oh, fuck, this is the last thing he needs. Why now? Why is Peter’s sense losing its shit now and not at any time in Europe? What has he done differently to set it off?

God, what if it had been going off then too? Could that be why Peter had backed off at the last second in the bar, EDITH almost in Quentin’s hand? Has Peter been feeling this the entire time?

It’s a good thing he doesn’t seem to be listening to it, but that could stop at any second. At any time, Peter could decide that maybe his stupid ‘spider sense’ isn’t wrong, and that would be— that would be bad. That would be so bad.

Quentin has got to figure out how to make sure Peter keeps dismissing what it’s telling him.

“It’s so annoying,” Peter’s saying. “I wish it would stop, would just shut up already. It’s like this constant thing lately, sort of fading in and out but almost always there, but not a single thing has happened!”

Oh, that’s really, really not great. Almost always? In and out? How long will it take before Peter starts to realize it’s linked to Quentin?

No. No, he can fix this. He can nip this in the bud, before Peter has even a hint of suspicion. Peter’s already trying to ignore it, already annoyed by it. Quentin can use that.

“Maybe it’s just confused?” Quentin brings one knee up and rests his elbow on it, letting his arm dangle oh so casually. “After all,” he adds, “I’m hardly a bad thing, am I?”

Peter smiles, all that irritation gone in a second. “No!” he says. “Of course not! You’re like, the least bad thing that’s happened in a while.”

Quentin grins back at him. Yeah, keep thinking that, kid. “Well that’s a relief!” he says. “How finely tuned is this thing anyway? Could something have… I don’t know, damaged it? Hmm, screwed up its baseline, maybe? How do you even recalibrate it?”

“I have no clue,” Peter says. “I mean, it’s not like I can’t really test it or fix it or whatever. It’s practically useless now.”

Perfect; he wants Peter distrusting this sense. Wants him not thinking about it at all, avoiding the topic entirely— ah.

If he can get Peter thinking his damaged sense has something to do with the fights he’s been in, these bigger battles, that would be ideal. Peter’s already trying hard not to think about those; tie this sense to them as well, and he’ll just have even more reason to avoid both

“Could something have overloaded it?” Quentin asks. “Just completely swamped it, and it hasn’t recovered yet? If it got used to there being danger nonstop, on all sides, maybe it can’t stand down.”

“…maybe?” Peter says. “But I don’t know what would have caused that, or even when. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

What.

Really, Quentin thinks, really? Peter can’t think of anything that would fit? Why wouldn’t he think of that? “Nothing?” he says, quietly.

Peter frowns. Takes a moment, and when he opens his mouth, Quentin is almost sure he’s made the connection; but Peter hesitates. Shrugs. “Not anything that’s like, major or a big deal or anything,” he says.

Does Peter— has he really managed to convince himself that all the fighting he’s done is nothing? Or at least, been trying to, because that hesitation says a lot.

He should have expected this, with the way Peter’s consistently downplayed himself so far. He really should have, but somehow it still annoys him. No wonder Peter isn’t willing to admit how scared and screwed up he is, if he thinks he’s completely overreacting to ‘no big deal’.

“Well,” Quentin says, and he’s watching Peter carefully. He doesn’t know quite how this will hit. “You were at war, on a battlefield. More than once, even. That can really mess you up in all kinds of ways.” Remember, Peter, he thinks. Remember that you were hurt, that there’s a good reason to be scared. To run.

“I— that—” Peter stares at him. “I wasn’t in a war,” he says. Dammit. Looks like downgrading it in his head is exactly what Peter’s been doing, and that is exactly the opposite of what Quentin wants.

“No? What would you call it?” Quentin asks, raising an eyebrow. He pushes himself more upright, uncrossing his legs. “It sounded a lot like war to me.”

Peter shakes his head, fingers crushing the leaf he’s been playing with. “It was just a fight,” he says, strained. “That’s all!”

A fight. Just a fight, like it was nothing more than a little spat, was nothing at all. Has someone been telling him this, reinforcing it? Fury, maybe, or even Tony before that?

He knows Fury wants Peter to think he can handle things, but has he also been trying to convince him that what he’s been through so far was small enough Peter should have been able to handle it? Should be able to handle the aftereffects? That he shouldn’t be upset about it, that he’s overreacting?

That’s not good; Quentin doesn’t need Peter doubting he can handle things. He needs Peter to be certain he can’t, and more, that it’s perfectly normal. Acceptable. Not something horribly selfish at all.

“Peter,” he says, “it wasn’t just a fight.”

“It was! It was just one— it wasn’t a war!”

“It wasn’t— Peter,” Quentin says, and sighs. “It was a lot more than that. You’ve been dragged from fight to fight to fight the past couple of years, without anyone helping you after; from what I hear, you really could have used some after that thing upstate.”

He huffs, too sharp to be a real laugh. “And that’s just what I know of,” he adds. “I’m not stupid enough to assume that’s everything.”

Peter sucks in a sharp breath, his hands fisted on his thighs. Blinks, and then looks at Quentin intently, his brow furrowed. “How do you even know about that? About— about other fights?”

“I spent some time talking with Fury,” Quentin says. “He wasn’t big on details, but I got enough that I can fill them in on my own. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t even know every fight you’ve been in, though I’m sure he’d like me to think so.”

He’d been talking with Janice, more like. God, she’d been such a find; seething about having had Tony himself be an ass to her, more than once, but willing to stay where she was to pass things on. She’d had access to so much confidential information, and every time SI and SHIELD decided to bury another thing, shift the blame and throw money at it until it all went away—for them, at least—she’d gotten a little more resentful.

It’s true that they might not have the finer details—it drives him nuts how sparse the info about whatever it was that crashed SI’s plane into the beach is—but he has enough to know that Peter’s been involved time and time again.

“Oh,” Peter says, looking down, losing some of his ire. “You probably didn’t hear much good, I bet. But— it doesn’t matter if it was more than one fight, cause they were all different. All like, spread out and about other stuff. It’s still not war.”

“What do you think war is, then?” Quentin asks, actually curious.

“I don’t, uh. War is… more?” Peter stumbles along, and he’s being incredibly stubborn about this. “More than that, than any of those. Worse. Way worse. You don’t— you weren’t there, you don’t know what it was really like. It wasn’t like that.”

“I think,” Quentin says dryly, “I have a pretty good idea of what war is.”

Peter looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “God, I didn’t mean— I’m sorry, I didn’t think— I just, just meant that you were in a war. In a real, horrible, endless one and this…” He shudders. “These were just fights. It’s not the same, it’s not anywhere near as bad.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says. Looks at Quentin and then drops his head into his hands, knees coming up as he curls in on himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Quentin, I didn’t mean…”

This is really not what he was going for. Shit, he shouldn’t have said it like that; Peter’s too sensitive for him to be even a little sharp.

Quentin sighs, very softly, though he’s sure Peter still catches it. Pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to Peter, who doesn’t even look up. “I know you didn’t mean it like that,” Quentin says. “It’s okay, Peter.”

Peter just shakes his head a little; Quentin thinks of sighing again but—somehow—manages to restrain himself. He sits down next to Peter, his back against the tree.

“War doesn’t have to go for a long time to be real,” he says, not looking at Peter. “It doesn’t have to drag on and on for it to still be awful, for it to still affect you,” and Jesus, he’s had to hear shit along those lines so many times. Had to sit there and listen to people be told over and over that what happened to them is worth being fucked up over.

Even if it isn’t. There’s a lot of reasons he never opened his mouth at those meetings, and his disgust at everyone else was the biggest. What a waste of time.

Well. Maybe not. It did give him the material to work Peter over.

“It doesn’t have to be some huge, dramatic battle to qualify,” Quentin says. “It still counts. Pretending it doesn’t doesn’t get it out of your head.” Come on, he thinks, let it be bad, be a nightmare. Admit that there’s a good reason, a real reason, for you to be scared, and then you can back down without shame. Come on, Peter.

“It doesn’t feel like it should count,” Peter says, a bit muffled, head still in his hands. “It wasn’t— lots of people have dealt with so much worse. Something like this, it’s not— it’s not an excuse for, for…”

He doesn’t finish that thought, but Quentin doesn’t need him to. An excuse, hmm? He turns his head toward Peter, just a bit. “Why don’t you want to call it a war?”

Peter lifts his head, arms sliding down to cross across his chest. “Why does it matter to you what I call it?” he asks, and there’s a hint of sharpness in there. Maybe even anger. “Why do you even care if I admit— if I think it’s a war?”

Nice little slip there; isn’t that interesting. Peter does know it was more than a few little fights. He knows, he’s just trying as hard as he can to pretend otherwise. Trying to redirect, as usual, turning the question back on Quentin. Why does it matter, Peter wants to know, and there are so many answers Quentin could give.

It matters because you need to see yourself as badly damaged. Because you need to acknowledge that this is something huge and overwhelming and frightening. Because I need you to start accepting what I say as right, start accepting me as an authority. I need you to not question me.

So many reasons, and he can’t tell Peter any of them. Ugh.

He turns further toward Peter. “Because I think you’re doing yourself a disservice,” Quentin says, tightly, irritation rising up in him. “When you sit there and insist that it’s nothing more than a little fight, when you play it off like it’s nothing— you’re devaluing what you did, and that’s wrong.”

“Don’t act like what you went through, what you did, doesn’t count,” Quentin says, and Peter’s looking over at him, startled. “That it wasn’t brave as hell, and terrifying as hell too.”

Peter stares, his eyes very wide. “I— it’s not like I did more than anyone else there. Than, than anyone else would have.”

“It sounds like you did more than enough,” Quentin says. “And— it doesn’t matter, Peter. It still messes you up. War fucks everyone up. Maybe it didn’t go on long enough for it to really warp your thinking, your morals or empathy or capacity to even feel, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t damage you.”

Peter jerks, sitting up straighter. “I’m not damaged!”

For fuck’s sake.

Quentin has to dig deep for a bit more patience. “Sure you are. Hey, Peter— wait,” he says, watching as Peter shuts down all over again, hurt. “That’s not bad, kid. It’s not an insult. It’s just… you gotta admit that before you can get better.”

Or not, if Quentin gets his way; admitting it might lead to Peter actually getting over his fear and stepping up. But with Quentin around, guiding him along? Peter’s never going to take that admission as anything other than a personal failure.

As just another reason he can’t, and someone else should.

“I don’t know,” Peter mutters. “It doesn’t feel like it should count.”

Quentin watches him for a minute. Leans in, his shoulder bumping against Peter’s. “You’d agree that I’ve been in war, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And that I’m able to judge what is and isn’t war. Right?”

Peter can be smart, sometimes. He sees where this is going. Sighs. “Yeah,” he says.

“Will you—” Quentin pauses, waits until Peter is looking at him. “Can you trust me here, and believe that I mean it when I say what you went through was war?”

Peter blinks, his eyes dropping. He’s silent, and Quentin can feel the muscles of his arm moving as Peter fiddles with something out of sight. “I’ll think about it,” Peter says, which is not quite the response Quentin was hoping for. Still, it’s not another denial. Baby steps.

“I’ll— maybe,” Peter says. “I guess you would know, even if you weren’t there.”

“You should listen to me,” Quentin agrees, leaning a little harder against Peter. “I do know!”

You should listen to me, and only me, he thinks. We’ll get you there, kid.

Peter huffs softly, pushing back against Quentin’s shoulder. “Maybe,” but he’s smiling faintly.

Quentin smiles back; he can accept a maybe, for now.

He’ll get a yes soon enough.

#mysteryspider #spiderio #quenter #quentin beck x peter parker #quentin x peter #mcu #spiderman #gotcha #wip #my work #fanfiction

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autisticangus · 4 years ago

Text

anyway im so out of the loop on the mcelboys

i pretty much only keep semi-up to date with Sawbones at this point, not cuz i dont still LIKE everything else, just a lot has been goin on in my life

if anyone wants a long and rambly update on All Of The Bullshit im gonna stick a read more down here, asks are open and its cool to message me abt any of it if u want cuz i have some really nice and cool followers/mutuals here that make me comfy talkin abt that shit

as far as the future of this blog goes i wanna start using it more again! the mcelroys have gotten me out of some really dark places before so i hope having more connection to this community and the people here and their content again will help me like it has in the past! ill probs post more general mcelroy content here than previously rather than just taz btw i just gotta fuckin uhhhhh,,,, catch up on a bunch of shit again before this blog is even semi active lmaoo but im like alive and on tumblr regularly again!!

Wow u clicked on this and wanna hear me talk? Ur awesome and sweet, thanks for caring!

These past two years have been extraordinarily tough. This is gonna be a pretty long and detailed post that deals with the sensitive topics of emotional abuse, abusive relationships, and alcoholism. Please read on with caution.

Back in March of 2019, so this was about 3-4 months after i left tumblr, I got a new boyfriend and things started out really good, he was kind of a "bad boy" and it was fun at first. Im kind of a goody-goody so it was very interesting for me at first to be with someone so different who had such different life experiences than me. I liked hearing his stories of living in a traphouse, and running with gangs, and selling drugs, and knowing people who had killed people. I assumed a LOT of it was lies, obviously, who just brags about that shit u know? I just rolled with it, didnt take it seriously, and found the imagined scenarios interesting to listen to. So much of it was obviously played up to make him seem cooler, and I shouldve seen that as the red flag it was, and all my friends did but I didnt.

He had a serious alcohol problem, I mean I had coffee in the morning and he had 2 four lokos before noon. it was bad. about 6 months into the relationship he decided i was cheating on him with my ex who i had recently reconnected with, we missed being friends and things were really going well talking and being friends again, he was really important to me! but my boyfriend saw this as yet another thing i was doing wrong. when he decided i was cheating, that become his focus of alcoholic rage. nearly every time he got drunk, which was several times a week, he would accuse me of things, he would yell and scream, he would call me horrible names and make me cry for literal hours, he never hit me but that shouldnt even matter, i was emotionally battered and mentally bruised and everything hurt. he gaslit me into believing i said and did things i never said or did, i admitted to things that were not real, and then i was yelled at for admitting them. i didnt know what to do.

he was threatening my ex too, he would get drunk and say he knew where he lived (he didnt) or he knew what car he drove (he didnt) and explained to me many times that although he had never killed someone, people had been killed before at his command. he said a bullet in the back of my ex’s brain was just a phone call and $500 away. somedays he would tell me he was just going to do it himself, with a hammer, or a kitchen knife, or whatever weapon he could get his hands on during his explanation of how he would do it. my only option was to agree, to say it didnt matter to me what happened to him, i had to pretend my on

/ly concern was him going to jail for the crime, if i showed any sign that i didn’t want my ex murdered, it clearly meant i was cheating on him.

i pretended to block my ex on social media to get him off my back and it worked a little bit but he still brought it up. and even if he didnt directly mention him, he would always tell me when he was drunk that i was the cause of all his problems, i was why he was so self conscious, i was why he drank so much, i was why he had to work so hard, i was why every single issue he had was happening. logically i knew it was wrong, but i was so conditioned to it by then that i just went with it. i knew that agreeing and apologizing made the fighting end quicker.

things spiraled this past summer. his job needed us to relocate so we moved like 4 states away, away from all my family and friends, and lived in a tiny hotel room for a month. during this time, his drinking was somehow worse. he was drunk literally every night but he was passing out so we didnt fight and i was relieved. i was depressed being stuck in the hotel room all day alone, but thankful i wasnt being abused at least. then he started getting into drunken fistfights with his coworkers in the hotel parking lot. one day he came home just in time to find one of his drunk coworkers trying to break into the room with me there desperately trying to keep him out. i was terrified and wanted to go home but he convinced me to stay. a couple weeks after that we travelled for his work again several more states away. his drinking got a little bit better here, but i was so depressed and lonely, i was so isolated, he was all i saw day in and day out besides his coworkers and i was nervous around them. one day the guy who tried to break in on me, purposefully, while drunk, hit another coworkers car and totaled it and tried to run the guy over and i saw the whole thing. a week later my boyfriend was also fired because he got so drunk he passed out in the hotel parking lot and the company needed to save face with the hotel after the whole car incident.

so we travelled back home, but not my home, to his where we lived isolated on a mountain with no phone signal or wifi. the house was old and not well kept from being empty for several years, half the appliances didnt work. i was more isolated than i have ever been in my life. for 4 months i stayed there and just dreaded him coming home because i knew he would be drunk again and he'd yell or accuse me of things or otherwise belittle me. it was horrible. my friends all said to leave and my parents said to leave but i was so brainwashed into thinking that if i was just a good little housewife and if i just stayed home and did the dishes and the laundry that he would be nicer but he still found things to point at and say i was cheating. he was also becoming really controlling about my food intake and weight and i already struggle with an eating disorder so that just made me feel even more like i had to stay, my brain felt like if i wasnt under his watchful eye id gain weight again, like somehow it was thanks to him i had lost weight and not my own choices.

one day last week i expressed to him wanting to leave, saying how unhappy i was, i told him how sad i felt and how i didnt think we were such a good match. he didnt take me seriously, so the next day when he got sloppy drunk before 5 pm i packed a small bag and went to my moms. i was just gonna stay for a night or two but he called and screamed at me for leaving without telling him, i told him he just didnt remember me telling him because he was so drunk, and he accused me of not caring about his feelings and made me sound like the bad guy for leaving without his permission. i told him it was just for a few days but the angrier he got the more i knew i was in the right and told him i was done. i told him we were breaking up and id come get my stuff soon.

i got my stuff while he was at work this past weekend and moved in with my best friend. im safe and happy now. things are looking so much better for me and im so thankful to my friends and family who supported me all the way to the end.

i just wanted to make this post because, i know its not mcelroy related, and a lot of ppl probably dont care for stuff like this on this kind of blog, but i think its important.

its important to friends and family of people in abusive relationships to be steady. dont give up your ground. even if the person keeps pushing back and wont leave the person, keep being there for them, it can take a long time, it took me almost 2 years to leave, it takes some people even longer, but just stay there for them and be there for them when they finally make that step. dont give up on them.

and to those who have been in these kinds of relationships, and especially those who are there right now: it is not your fault. it is so, so hard to leave, i know, but please try to find help and support and resources to do it. if all your friends dont like someone, theres a good reason for it. please dont fall into the trap of thinking your friends dont have the best intentions for you. there are so many things you may overlook in the moment that others can see from a mile away are horrible. especially if you have been abused in the past. its incredibly hard to tell what is a red flag when your gut instinct is that anything and everything is a red flag. surround yourself with people who you can trust and listen to them

and trust me, i know how hard it is when youre stuck in that spot of KNOWING you should go but fearing that first step away. its scary. its difficult. but it is worth it. find someone safe you can be with. and if you arent sure, find a reason to leave for just a few days, an excuse, anything. give yourself space from the abuser, tell yourself youre going back in a couple days, just get out from under the thumb long enough to clear your head and things will make more sense with the fog lifted.

when i first got in my car and put my kitten on my lap and told her we were going to my moms for a couple nights, i didnt know if that was the truth. i planned to come back and i knew i didnt want to. i only took enough stuff for a couple days. i couldnt imagine my life changing so drastically. where would i live? how would i make money? who take care of me? i had no clue about any of those things. but after a couple days away I realized i would take care of me. i remembered that i had worked jobs before i was with him, i could do it again. i remembered that i had options of where to live. all of those things were so clouded when i was with him, they felt like impossibilities. once i was away, even just for a short time, things were so much easier to parse.

and i know i had many privileges in this journey not everyone is afforded, and my heart goes out to those who read this and are in this situation and the options i had just arent accessible to you, i am so sorry, i wish i had something more to offer you but all i have is my story, and a wish that it gives you some hope at the very least, and a promise that if you need someone to talk to, im here, i will listen, and you will be heard and loved.

i just want everyone who reads to take something small but important away from it. love your friends, love yourself. please stay safe. please dont give up. remember love should not hurt.

#angus.txt #getting deep in here but it felt good to write #i love u all so much ok pls be good urselves

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iraprince · 5 years ago

Note

I found your "thinking out loud" comic, and it hit hard. Ive never been good at articulating my feelings and seeing something that so closely mirrored my own experience was comforting and validating as I was trying to get better. However, I had thought I had gotten through crisis mode and was on the long, difficult rode of recovery and self acceptance. I was wrong. What Im dealing with now is crisis mode. My old problems are getting worse,(part 1 of 2 i know doing this is lame but *shrugs*)

(Part 2) New problems i haven't had to deal with before are showing up, and I don't know how to handle it all. Like you, it's easy for me to see why this is happening. Ive been struggling and wanting to die for awhile. But I've never been able to face these feelings. I've always avoided my feelings or locked them away, so now that I'm actually trying to get better, im facing years worth of unresolved bullshit. And i just don't know if I'm going to make it though all this alive.

i really really get this and i feel like there’s no way for me as a stranger to give u like, life changing advice that’s going to clear everything up. but i can tell u that for me what was really important was like.... i know we hear “mleh mleh just take it one day at a time uwu <3” all the time and it’s like great thanks but every “one day” sucks shit and then the day after that also sucks shit and i’m aware the day after that day will continue to suck shit and — you get what i mean. it’s not really uplifting.

but what worked better for me was realizing that u cant tackle everything that sucks all at once. you HAVE to be okay with other shit sliding while you tackle the One Thing thats fucking up your day more than anything else. right now i’m pretty even keeled and i wouldn’t say Most of my days are fucked up at all, which is insane and i absolutely never would have imagined that for myself. but a couple years ago? 90% of my life was a mess while i worked on the One thing i needed to keep things together, which was “don’t kill yourself, don’t lose your job.” i was managing to get out of bed, go to work, come home — and i lived in ABSOLUTE filth and didn’t take care of myself and barely had a social life even tho i was living in a house with literally 5 other people, almost all of whom i liked perfectly fine. but i was working on the one thing. i zeroed 100% in one “dont kill yourself, don’t lose your job” and i made it through those years and if i’d tried to make my goal “don’t kill yourself don’t lose your job get healthy find a way to socialize besides drinking and keep your space clean and organized” i think i would have accomplished 0% of that instead of 10%.

idk. it’s hard for me to think of a way to phrase this that doesn’t come off as “when you’re mentally ill u can just let everything go to shit and nobody can tell u to try harder bc u cant help it!”, which is the mindset i had in the years BEFORE the years i just described and it Does Not Fucking Work, it hurts the people around you, and it almost killed me. but what i mean is you just really have to have gentle standards for yourself. you have to be okay with expecting less when you’re doing really really badly — and that doesn’t mean not holding yourself accountable and that doesn’t mean never pushing yourself, bc nobody is coming to save you, nobody can make you get better but you, you HAVE to push and you have to do the hard work and you have to fight. but you also have to be realistic about how much of that fight you can do per day and sometimes the amount of fight in your body is really low and weak and... that’s just how it is. sometimes you manage one weak little slap in the face of your illness and it looks like “i woke up, i got up to pee, i drank a few sips of water, and i went straight the fuck back to sleep so i wouldn’t think about killing myself.”

you HAVE to keep fighting to want more for yourself than that. you have to fight and claw and scream and scratch to convince yourself that you deserve better than living like that every day. but you also have to learn to understand that you don’t have that energy every day and sometimes it’s going to look like “i cant do this today. i don’t feel like fighting today, i don’t love myself today, i don’t feel like i want to be better today. but this is storing up energy so i can start screaming again the day after tomorrow.”

all i can tell u is that this isn’t going to beat u, i feel confident abt that even as a complete stranger. bc i’m proud of what i’ve done for myself but i’m not stronger or smarter than anyone else at baseline, i don’t think anyone is stronger or tougher or has ANYTHING at the core that anyone else doesn’t have, from like, a Spirit and Heart standpoint as hokey as that sounds. i can’t tell you it’ll be easy or fast bc it wasn’t for me. but literally every single day i’m glad i didn’t kill myself and sometimes i break down crying over how glad i am that i didn’t do it, out of nowhere in the middle of my day, and i believe in that for you.

#suicide //

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kweebtrash · 6 years ago

Note

Could you make a drabble with Johnny masturbating while thinking of Eri? 🤭

I already did this in Ch. 3. So i decided to do a masturbation scene with phone sex, teasing, dirty talk, Johnny being really desperate and needy?, and a smidge of daddy kink. So like I hope that’s ok? Also in Johnny's POV(obvs).

[9:45pm]

Wyd?

I typed out my favorite three letters in hopes of enticing her enough to come over. I had no idea why but the feeling of her beneath me while I fucked her hard was suddenly stuck in my brain. It had been all I could think about for the past half hour and I couldn’t quit. I imagined pinning her legs down with mine and laying my body over hers which made her look smaller than she actually was. She would almost always squirm against me, shoving her ass back to take me deeper and I just-

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: not you. Bye

What?? Now I would have to spend extra time convincing her. God, fuck my life.

C'mon baby. I'll really make it worth your while

🦇BattOuttaHell🦇: yah I'm sure🙄 I'm busy

Doing what?

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: none of ur business. I'm busy

Jesus did I really have to beg? I bet she wasn't even doing anything. It’s fucking Tuesday night. Who does anything on a Tuesday?

Please baby? I can't stop thinking about you

Girls liked that shit,I didn't they? I mean...it was actually true though.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: BWAHAHAHAHHA

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: lmao ur that desperate huh baby boy?

I'm not desperate 😑 just horny

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: hate to break it to ya but horny and bugging me is you being desperate

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: srsly tho I'm stuck studying for an exam I know jack shit about. I'm screwed

You can also be screwed if you come over

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: pls die

Why are you so violent all the time?!!

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: bruh violence is my middle name

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: sry but it'll just be u and ur hand tonight

I groaned because I really really didn't want that. I would much rather have her squeezed around my cock and hear those soft breathy moans she made all the time. She would always hold onto me then, maybe dig some scratches into my back as I went as deep as I could go. I groaned in frustration and wanted to throw my phone but persisted. I was going to regret typing this and was already cringing but I figured I had to pull out the big guns. We were still trying this whole thing out but a test drive wouldn't be so bad.

Princess, daddy really needs you

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: oh my god Johnathan

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: 🚫🛑✋

I thought you liked that???

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: I do

The ellipse signaling her response bubbled for awhile and I wondered what the hell kind of paragraph she was writing.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: princess has to study. I'm srsly gonna fail😭😭

Just a little break? Please??

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: daddy with you it's never a "little break"

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: ull keep me there for hours and then I won't sleep and then I'll be tired and then I will fail

I sat up a little straighter staring at that word. It had a much different and more profound effect on me when she wrote it. I didn't cringe; instead I felt it deeply seeded within the base of my cock and it made my hormones go into overdrive. I quickly typed out a response hoping to make the conversation a bit more...dirty.

That's for sure

You know how long I can go and how weak you are for me when I've been inside you for hours.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: I mean it's alright ig

Goddamn it! Why was she like this? She was such a frustrating little shit!

Bruh I'm just tryna get off ok? If you're not gonna come over can you at LEAST help me out a little??????????

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: wtf you want me to do? Sext you??

I mean it's better than you being a dick to me

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: aww baby boy wants to whineeee

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: u are pretty much begging at this point

I rolled my eyes hating that she was kind of right.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: good thing I like to hear men beg for me

Oh shit. Did that mean that I was getting closer to her helping me? It was probably one of those kink things. I thought for awhile if I should actually swallow my pride and do it some more just to get her to participate. I was going to feel like an idiot but at least I'd be an idiot who came. I sent her a snap of me pouting with the puppy filter trying to be cute enough.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: ur an idiot u know that right?

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: anyway idk how to sext?

What do you mean you dont know how to sext? You just do it.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: well i’m not gonna say stuff your cock in my pussy thats fucking disgusting

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: also im a writer so it’s just gonna come out weird

Try me. You can like describe what you like me doing to you. Anything.

I set my phone down and waited for her to respond. It wasn’t that difficult. I did it all the time but i wanted her to start. I just wanted to hear her instead of being wrapped up in my stupid fantasies. I looked down at the bulge in my sweatpants and sighed. If i got started now then I would keep getting interrupted and have to wipe my hand off every time. I set my pillow over my head and hoped that if I suffocated myself enough then I wouldn't have to suffer any longer.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: this is not going to be sexy at all lol

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: but i seriously love when you grab my hips and use it to fuck me deeper. I love how much you stretch me open, how much you fill me and those grunts you make when youre close

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: i love when youre fucking me from behind and press yourself into my back and pin my wrists down. You make me feel so small and wrapped up in protectiveness i guess? Or maybe possessiveness. You usually bite down on my neck and shoulders when youre like that. The hickies are a pain in the ass to cover but i love looking at them afterwards and feeling how tender they are. It makes me remember the ache and how i cant wait to fuck you again.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: is this ok?

Fuck. yes. I typed out as soon as my phone vibrated with her response.

Shit, i couldn’t believe just her typing something could get me even harder but i could feel myself throbbing beneath my sweats. I wanted her to keep going but I needed to get off before i couldn’t take it anymore. I dared to call her and hear her seductive but shy voice. I dialed her number and hoped to God she would answer.

"Are you trying to have phone sex with me?" She asked instantly.

"15 minutes." I panted. "Take a break for 15 minutes."

"No more than that. I really have to study…"

"I promise, baby. I promise." I shoved my sweats off, keeping the phone between my ear and shoulder, and grabbed the base of my cock. The first stroke was slow, steady, full of yearning and as it turned out desperation. Precum was already covering my head and making a mess but I used that to my advantage. It added slickness to my strokes, easily letting my palm slide up and down my shaft. "Please just talk to me."

Her voice seemed to get a little lower. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything." I bit down on my lip for a moment as my hips lifted into a particularly rough jerk. "I just want to hear your voice."

"I want to hear your moans then. Those pants, the groans, those little growls. Don't hold back, Johnny."

I set the phone on speaker so I could keep it beside me and have more freedom. "Ye-yeah. I won't hold back trust me."

I gripped onto the blanket beside me, trying to remind myself that I needed to use those fifteen minutes to my full advantage. I knew with how much of a brat she was, she probably already had a timer going. I slowed my strokes a little bit, giving my fingers time to roll over my head and dip into my slit. I breathed out a soft pant as I focused everything on how sensitive I was. With each stroke of my fingers I imagined Eri on top of me, grinding into my hips and taking every inch I would give her. She looked so utterly gorgeous, like a fucking goddess every time she smirked down at me or set her hands on my chest to steady herself. Why was she so damn perfect?

"A little louder Johnny. I want to really hear you or else I'll hang up."

"N-no." I choked out. "F-fuck...I'm just thinking about you!"

My fist was trembling around the blanket as I could hardly hold back. I squeezed my hand a little tighter around myself trying to replicate the way she clenched around my cock. It wasn't exactly the same but damn near close.

"Hmm? Thinking about me? What am I doing to my baby boy?"

“Riding me! Fuck you’re riding me so fucking good.” I groaned louder than I expected. My thighs were starting to tremble just a bit and i dug my toes into the mattress. I was bucking even harder than before, The thoughts of her were driving me crazy; her voice was adding to it all and those coy little giggles made it even worse. I wanted her so fucking bad.

“Do you want to cum?” She breathed out.

“Yes.” I growled deeply. “Eri...shit…”

“You’re super cute when youre begging. Do you think I should let you?” She teased.

“Oh, i’m going to, whether you let me or not princess. What daddy says, goes.” i released another growl and gripped my balls with my other hand, squeezing them in a chaotic dance of pleasure and need.

“Not when daddy calls princess begging to fuck. You can hold out a bit longer. I deserve to hear a few more moans.”

I let out a growl of frustration. “Eri.” I said sternly. “I swear to god…”

“Say my name like that as you fuck me from behind.”

I tossed my head back into the mattress as the vision popped in my head instantly. My hand stroked at an ungodly pace as i felt my release approaching fast. I was a mess of feelings and sounds, drowning in my own lust and letting my body fall into every awakened nerve. My muscles tightened and i felt warmth rush over me. My breathing deepened as I squeezed out the last few ropes of cum that splattered all over my stomach. My hand was drenched as well and i flopped back, sighing as i knew i had so much to clean up. I picked up the phone with my clean hand and took her off speaker.

“14 minutes, 39 seconds. Good job.”

“I knew,” I licked my lips and tried to steady my breath. “You were fucking counting, you evil little shit.”

“Whhaaatttt! I have to get back to studying! Except I might have a little fun myself.”

“Are you kidding me? After I asked? God, i cant stand you.”

She chuckled and I could just see that devilish smirk on her face. “Mhm, whatever you say. I have to get going now. Have fun cleaning up.”

#the stupid bat emojis didnt copy over #fuck google docs #messy #time stamp #johnny fanfiction #johnny suh #johnny #johnny seo #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #johnny nct #nct 127 fanfiction #nct drabble #johnny drabbles #johnny drabble #johnny smut #so like they were talking dirty which they dont normall do but ya know

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triumphorce · 6 years ago

Text

under stars that feel as far as

real does..

at the moment.

at any moment..

kidnap me.

any chance presented

& in moments prior.

spent alone

zone.

far from progress.

stasis,

stationed next to

hope & regret.

on either side.

stamina. breathe now

to breathe more.

no free will.

i got to survive.

i got to make it,

especially if i just change aim

change rim-height,

relate with reality

change chin height,

keep head up,

lower expectations

keep pen up.

can’t make shit up,

so i make this shit up

dig deep, drain soon as i wake up

from sleep, or conscious nap..

break up

buildup

of words

that

feel

millions.

euphoric

ultimatum;

write,

or just

waste.

can’t wait

to post, create.

post haste

long ass roads that really dont have

an end, or means to.

I just become more of

whatever comes;

whatever emotions

i allow;

however

i react;

whoever,wherever,

when tf ever

‘cause all i am

is now, here.

a little more conscious..

that’s it.

&the more i remember,

the more i forget.

gotta pick and choose.

careful.

careful, please.

carefully

cut ties, choose way

‘cause by the time it's time to remember

new knew's

once was' just can’t keep up

and i accidentally

delete something

important,

or distort it..

gotta

slow down

life...

ssssshhheesh

i once was in less pieces,

&I at least, once, knew peace, but didn’t know it,

more than likely still do

staring at sky blue.

so blue..

eyes find it soothes

waiting on.

bus late.

contemplating, mind rages

sea

lost in deep

hue pool

sharp, wind wrapping body.

waitin on,

waiting on.

contemplating. gone.

daydreamin way thru life.

thru the little things

i always belittled.

cause I thought I had what i needed. or what I had was mine to keep.

...just because.

i need a little more somethin

a little more new, more original stop cliches, tropes,& archetypes in general

droll,

repetition equals learning, well i'll just lurn-less

beg to differ, by beggin questions, even when forced to tread slow,&only do so in head.

we’re all middlemen.

just fiddlin’

‘round in world,

in universe,

riddled withh riddles,

that

trickle,

drip

complex

descent

from cognitive

beginnings.

ephemeral glimpses of outside-nighttime-world,

through blinds in bed, as a child to now, still just as far from.

as far as real feels.

feelin nothing like how I do now.

but pain passes,

so it just must be my brain's capacity for trust shrank. & elaborates time taken for to cross neural pathways,

not get lost, and make it back safe save, all at the same time, while i attempt to ignore age

pay mind solely to the idea i can do, &I don't have to prove.

to become honest, so potential growth is optimum to be one with me, and know I can't ever be anything but and no idea is ever done, no matter finished, no grey matter greyer, no more dr. bender's, no more directions, no more winners, reflect on self, &what it means-to be better, i deflect defects w/ skylark teeth,

a truer sense of.. truth

a higher level basic

newfound fundamentals

that all the world and creation in it,

then, now, or later

are truly small

no life was ever finished

nobody wants to give it up,but we learn to

and as a consequence return to world what we wish to see beyond our existence

to find trust again love again feel again believe again hurry up, clock's tickin

get it, grind look and find get inspired go inspire go perspire run a mile two three four

five seconds six seconds

gotta go for it gotta get better,

never listen only instrumentalz for me

in a room aspire to be able to define my every rhyme and reason behind thoughts had,

itchin to stay consistent, keep on writing and don't worry about why, keep on filing tomes of dreams, ordering guides to self, from one idea to a whole library of shit I did,

like,

"oh, damn kid, you wrote that?"

damn right I did.

conversations that I have in my head

while I reread pieces

an elixir, a pensive remedy

for when I feel reluctant toward

reality, when in reality

it's really just the people around me that I trusted, busted ass for, gave up past for filled up gigabytes, sticky notes, notepads for designed a whole world for,

put off parties, friends, a part of me I never gave a chance for. became an outcast for. put on mask for.

to be compared and not contrasted warned and not encouraged critiqued but not heard

made me want

to tell, create a story and not give a damn about glory.

although i worry how i come off..sometimes..

made me

change style time after time for some time, now..

made me have

to boost own confidence, own own ego; inflate like raft, & float to shore,

common ground with action &

focused on

how I'm amounting in life.

..apparently

im just climbing up invisible

mountains

but i don't let it make or break me,

used to,

but no more ,& nowit's just me.

&that's just crazy..

so im focused

on how im a mountain lion to moles tryna troll, but most the time, tho I'm...focused on settling score with where I've failed

& failed to respond to failure well

let go

of initiative, hung to anger

in orbit around regret towards doors left unopened, words unspoken to people gone, that could've changed life, if only They could hear these thoughts.. if only I had someone to talk to besides myself, & people that talk to high-five themselves; given approval never sought, advice for battles never fought, in a room for most of youth, stuck in head, so much to see, explore lore of stories never written, so much done even before i decided to pick pen up, before i decided I was ready for commitment decisions in head turn to an every 5 minute thing,

stuck in holes deeper than before

tell-tale signs around sub-subconscious that Im chasin nothin..

apparitions..

in front of people

waitin somethin fierce

for me to

summon what's already there

a mirror image of miracle from thinnest air from holes put in life for pride in pages of jumbled thoughts gaps in memories for drafts that define ironic, describing fine lines I believe are there, in thinnest mirror, between me and experience in eyes that remind me i am less, i am more i am worse, i am better everything in between all and nothing, not objective, but an object capable of observation, own purpose assigned no more worth than yours, no more than I have dealt my self chances missed to live for product tossed or lost in the end

x's & lines through a mind confused, backspaces scribbles procrastinating daily, delaying the inevitable, staring at.. ...coffee steam and letters linked in ink curves and ink in nerves

on nights only sleep's deferred as vivid as yesterdays and scenes in head of tomorrows mixed in with skips in consciousness obvious options almost always missed second guesses linger in gut like wtf

what the fuck am i doing everyday, if I don't contribute to future

to believe, or not to believe i was in control of will was the whole problem let go of all it hone on goals. fly low, that is...

as far a stretch as breath of desire to contribute to the world believing if chance exists, i will succeed I will fulfill promises thru notepads & audience

a caged bird singing

do or do not.

seems all I've done is try, it seems to try isnt good enough, seems what they want from me wasn't what I was told they want, which is for me to want from me & instead what they want to see is what they want to see

me to become this and not my own, no matter how many hours spent, no matter the font, text, or etiquette formed to gain attention, but apparently a proper use of improper use of prose prospered overtime & i kept my posture, keep me from losing self, going crazy, letting people make me think something's not okay, or wrong with me, or out of whack off top, not taken seriously

priorities of the majority of society made it difficult to captivate eyes, and garner respect, because of conflictive internal contradictions to set out for what I thought was spreading message, but was embedding judgment of self, & effort, looking at motives that been made a home in heart like they suspect, but they was who fucked with me when I wouldn't even fuck with me, wanna be someone else, something else, like what you want clave?

to wait for mine..

psh, nnn’eh, thinking I was good enough to be taken seriously ..

thinking there was nothing to do, but to do, but something changed course, one day,

one day atta time

thinking that I was right behind, could just lift up arm and touch but that wasn't the case, ever, constant race

couldn't hold on, couldn't hide the pain to psyche out greatest opponent, me

didn't want to, saw no point

repeating and repeating, over and again

so on and so forth, thus forth destroying self convinced I couldn't help it and still am

and still can't

accept I ever gave in, broke under pressure, buckled under what some would chuckle over, no pity, just recognition of jimity's petition to push when pushed, with thoughts into written gale force, in a position to always hope, so when foundation crumbles, there's another one up under

if not, I use earth to wander.

whether with excess of momentum or subsiding in subtle realization of sustenance behind life's work

purpose on course set to find reward I'm told I'm looking for..

fin

#poem #dps #clavevesari

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citrus-feline · 6 years ago

Text

ppl really are just like “lol ur just sad bcuz ur not allowed to be lazy” when mentally ill & disabled people complain about capitalism making them actually want to commit suicide because it makes us all seem like burdens.

how can you have such a lack of empathy?? for a fucking Second just imagine what it would be like from that persons perspective before telling them that they should suck it up and just do it (somehow?? despite their situations making that near impossible, if not outright).

idk what to tell you if you think that this is a thing that is okay to let happen. it is not uncommon to any degree for people in this type of situation to feel like a burden and to consider things as drastic as suicide. that isn’t uncommon. that happens, a lot. but you’d rather believe that we are all in some kind of evil group of dumb kids who pretend just because they want to be lazy??? there are kids who do that, yeah, but the majority of people who complain about this kind of thing aren’t like that.

you can continue to tell us that we are awful people for thinking this way, and i want you to know that it isn’t helping. you saying that shit is upright making it worse. even if it WAS true, what is the point of saying it? you are implying that people who go through this Deserve to feel like burdens and Deserve to want to commit suicide, even if that wasn’t your intention. that is what we see when you type that out.

you all act like we never have tried and we are just sitting with our unknowing perceptions of how things work, but let me tell you that almost all of us have tried, multiple times at that. finding a job with these circumstances in the first place is incredibly difficult. i can sometimes do an okay job at getting people to believe that i’m normal because my appearance isn’t really affected by what i go through, while other people don’t have that grace. and even then, even when i was hired after months and months of searching and being turned down over and over and over because my personality wasn’t what they wanted..... my employer would eventually learn that i am not normal. it’s Really hard to hide that type of thing when it affects you every single day of your life, turns out.

even taking the horrible process of getting hired into account, people will act like when you are hired that you are good and it’s all easy from there. it isn’t. it really isn’t. i worked as long as i did for my past jobs because i went in thinking that everything wrong with me would go away when i finally got to that point. because that’s what people act like. unfortunately, that isn’t how it works. i would find myself dreading work after a month or two. by the third month i would consider suicide nearly every minute on the job, to the point of me getting so scared that my employer would notice and i would get fired or i would end up quitting because i don’t want to die just yet.

you can go on and on about how young adults these days are just too sensitive and don’t understand anything, but like... im starting to think that everyone from older generations that felt this way just... died? killed themselves? or couldn’t find a job and ended up on the streets? you know that tons of homeless people are mentally ill or disabled to some extent, right? you know that, right??? and even with all of that you still continue to say how entitled we all are when we literally just want to survive.

my dream for what i want my future to be isn’t crazy or over the top. i just want to live with my boyfriend, get married in a few years, and maybe try to go to school when i feel ready. my goal in life is to just be happy. it isn’t to be rich or famous like you all seem to think it is. i just want to survive with the person i love. i want to be happy. why is that such an awful thing to want? how am i a bad person for wanting to be happy?

im quiet and always do as im told. i dont go out of my way to make things hard for other people. yes, doing things can be really hard for me, and they normally are. but ill end up doing it, it just might take a while. the problem with how things work is the expectation of happening fast and without issue. i’ve always done things slowly because of how much thought i put into everything. it has always, even since i was very young, difficult for me to work myself towards doing something.

this isn’t something that developed during high school like so many people seem to assume. i’ve been depressed and anxious for as long as i can remember. i remember being REALLY weird when i was very young, and that’s because i didn’t understand what was wrong with me. i was miserable most of the time, even as early as elementary school. i feel like i didn’t ever have the happy, lazy experience that everyone assumes i’m trying to keep in my life. i can’t keep that if i never had it. and even if i could somehow make it happen, it hasn’t. i’m in a pretty understanding situation with my boyfriend, and i’m given time to do things. he understands how hard things are for me, and doesn’t automatically just call me lazy like everyone else seems to. it makes me feel like i have some kind of worth.

isn’t it depressing to think about the fact that i will often find myself thinking that i am worthless because of the lack of what i do? i will find myself looking at me at the core and think “yeah this is worthless, and it should be thrown away”. even when i do well i think this way. nothing is ever enough, and no matter how hard i work to ignore it, my issues won’t magically vanish. i WISH they did. and i’ve tried so hard to make that happen. but it doesn’t. this isn’t something that is simply just a made up problem that i’ve convinced myself to believe. i was suffering from this before i even knew you COULD be like this. i just always thought that i was weird and broken and unlovable and... worthless. even as a kid. i tried the same tactic of making myself do tons of things in order to try to make it go away, but it didn’t work. being the smart kid never worked. being the kid who really wanted to have fun and play but assumed i couldn’t because i needed to work harder to be ‘normal’ like all the other kids Never Worked. i never had more than 5 friends at a time for the large majority of my school life. that got a little better in high school when i started to accept whats wrong with me, but even then it was still pretty bleak.

i just. i don’t get how people can come on here, look at a post written by someone struggling for other people struggling, and then tell everyone who agrees with it that they are all just lazy and awful people. does that make you feel good about yourself? you know that we all already know that we are far from normal, right? i know only one or two people who have gone through this all without mental illness or disability contributing, but so many more who experience it with those things being the core.

if you hate disabled and mentally ill people, just say it. because you acting like you are morally superior because you are lucky enough to be able to tolerate the work environment of today is obviously how you feel. we know that people hate us. we do. i’ve been verbally abused plenty over this exact thing, from lots of different people acting like they “know the best” for me.

please just. stop talking to us if you are so unwilling to listen. we listen to you constantly. its a rare case to come across other people being loud about this type of thing without outright looking for it. if you look for it, you can find it, but i wouldn’t have ever thought to do that for most of my life. the only reason i learned what was wrong with me was because a school counselor in middle school got so concerned for me that she made me see her once a week to talk about how i see the world. and turns out, most people DONT see it the way i do! wow! sounds stupid but i actually had NO idea that i saw things so differently than other people. what a shocker, right? well, it sure was for me when i was just learning then that some people have things like depression or anxiety.

im done with this post. im tired and im going to think about something else.

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