#i had the worst panic attack the whole time since they brought him from the neighbor's house until they left with him

[sudokuplayer]

-

[missriddle03]

Title: You cry, I cry

parings: fem!reader x mattheo riddle

Small synopsis: Mattheo can't deal with his father and his anxiety is getting the better of him but his girlfriend is there to help him

Time to read: 10mins (average)

Word count: just under 2k

Warnings: Angst, written panic attack, two swear words

Song recommended: cry by cigarettes after sex

It was a typical school day in the world of hogwarts. The Slytherins were due to share a class with the Gryfindors, whilst the Hufflepuffs were with the Ravenclaws. It wasn’t time for class so Mattheo and his friends were in the astronomy tower.

“You know, it’s actually quite a nice view up here” Theo had said as he was taking a drag from his cigarette. The sky was a pale blue but the clouds were coming in and some little hues of grey became more and more noticeable as the day went on. Mattheo, Lorenzo and Theodore were the only ones there as Draco and Blaise were helping Professor Snape with a potion for class. “Have you brought y/n up here?” Lorenzo asked Mattheo.

No answer.

“Mattheo?” he repeated.

No answer.

Theodore clicked his fingers in front of his face and soon enough his gaze diverted to him. “What?” Mattheo answered. Theo let out a little chuckle not sure whether to be worried or brush it off. “You zoned out, Enzo asked if you brought y/n here before or not” His italian accent was becoming prominent on certain words but his friends understood him and that was all he cared about. “Oh..i-uh-yeah I have. I brought her here at night and she really liked seeing the stars. She loves astronomy so I had to bring her here” a slight smile formed on his face remembering the night that he brought her there. Mattheo and y/n had been friends since the day they both arrived, she didn’t care about who he was or even who he was related to and then one day he asked her to be his girlfriend..of course she said yes. “You are not your parents, don’t compare yourself to them. You can choose who you want to be and sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to in order to find out who we are and that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time”

Theodore didn’t want to admit to himself that his friend might need help, he noticed Mattheo zoning out more often than normal and he hardly spoke unless y/n was around but it wasn’t the case of missing the girl who took his heart it was the case that he put up a smile for her not wanting her to judge him for not being able to cope. Mattheo didn’t want y/n involved with the dark parts of his mind or the dark part of him that involves his family. “Y/n’s a lucky girl” Enzo stated, looking out past the railing. Suddenly a Gryffindor came onto the astronomy tower, it was a girl who looked similar to y/n but; of course it wasn’t. “You know..Dumbledore should really watch who he invites in this school. He shouldn’t let descendants of a murderer into here. You three are exactly like your parents” the girl said.

Mattheo’s heart was pounding out of his chest but only registered those last seven words. “Leave before I make you wish you hadn’t spoken to us, Stronza” (bitch) his knuckles turned white as he tightened them getting ready to punch the girl. Neither of the boys had a good relationship with their parents, Theo’s mother died when he was young and it pained him to see people with their mothers but his father was his worst enemy. From a young age he had been taught all the unforgivable curses and as soon as he turned 16 he was forced to become a death eater and he knew his life wouldn’t get better. Lorenzo had a complicated relationship with Bellatrix; his mother was also the mother of Mattheo. His father wasn’t in the picture and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. The girl left the astronomy tower feeling frightened by the threat that had left Theo’s mouth. “Don’t let it get to your head,” he instructed Mattheo but it already had gotten to his head. “I’m gonna go I’ll see you guys later” was his final words before getting up from the chair and heading to his dorm and took a cigarette and took a long inhale before falling onto his bed, burying his head into his pillows.

Theodore took a deep breath and sat down. “I’m worried about him, Enzo” he muttered, more to himself than to Enzo’s ears. “I know..I am too”

“The best part was the love confession, this book has my heart” y/n said to her friend Pansy. Y/n was a big bookworm and Pansy loved hearing about her recent endeavours in reading, “I just don’t see it! If it’s a love triangle you want the girl to end up with the bad boy and not the soft guy because she will just walk all over him and the good boy will keep her trapped. You should know all about bad boys” Pansy joked as she let out a giggle. “Shut up” Y/n laughed. “I’m not joking I-”

“Y/n!” someone called out interrupting Pansy. Theodore came running into the library standing next to the girls. “What? Is Mattheo okay?” Immediately getting out of her seat as worry took a hold of her. He shook his head before continuing, “I don’t know, I don’t think he’s doing well mentally” She lightly ran her hand through her head, Mattheo’s mental health wasn’t something that was new to her he had panic attacks that paralysed him until he calmed down and his head was all over the place and only himself could bring him out of it. “Where is he?” she asked Theo. “I’m not sure but I think he’ll be in class” Y/n let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding before Theo placed his hands around her and warmed her into a hug. “He’ll be okay, he will be”

“I’m just worried..I don’t want anything to happen to him”

“I know”

Pansy closed the book they were reading and placed it back on the shelf before taking y/n’s hand. “Come on, let’s go to class then” Theo sent her a smile before the three of them left the library and went to potions. It was exam day and it stressed everyone out, they all took their seats but one seat was empty.

Mattheo’s. Y/n's head was running a mile about where he was, if he was okay and why he wasn’t there but luckily her mind was put at ease a few moments later. “Mr Riddle, please take your seat” Professor Snape said. He walked in and sat down next to y/n, “Hey Love, you okay?” he whispered. “Yes I am, but are you okay?”

Mattheo took out his pen and wrote his name on his test and nodded his head. “You don’t need to lie to me” He turned his head around and pointed his finger up at her “Stop asking if I’m okay because I am so just leave it at that”

Looking down, y/n wrote a note to Theodore and placed it on the floor kicking it to him (he was in front of them)

He isn’t telling me anything

Y/n maybe ask about it again

No, I can’t I don’t want to make him more upset than he already is

Don’t you want to know what’s going on? Cara

Yes

Si so do I, listen Mattheo hasn’t cared about someone as much as he cares about you.He just doesn’t want to show that he has a problem. He sees that as a weakness.

I care about him more than he knows and he knows that no matter what he says I am not the type of person to use it against him. He needs to tell me himself

If he tells you please tell me, he’s my best friend and I hate seeing him like that

Of course I’ll tell you Theo. You’re his best friend too

A smile was brought to Theo’s face but Y/n’s attention was shortly shifted once she saw Mattheo with his chair back a little. His leg was bouncing up and down as his chest was moving at a rapid rate.

Blurriness took over him as he stood up,looked around the classroom, and bolted. Leaving y/n as she took a look at Theo. She put her hand up and asked to be excused to the bathroom and Snape granted her permission.

My heart was racing as I began my search for Mattheo. I knew it wasn’t going to get better but I atleast thought that he was going to tell me..maybe Theo was right I should have asked him more about it. “Mattheo!” I called out but he didn’t respond. I ran through the hallway but I didn’t see him. I decided to go to his dorm thinking that maybe he would be in there. His door was left ajar and a figure was now noticeable. He was sitting in front of his bed with his head in between his legs. I was frightened for him, I walked over to sit down next to him but he didn’t register that it was me. “Matt, please look at me” sobs escaped his lips. “No, go away” his breathing was still all over the place. I took his hand and his tear stained cheeks finally looked at me. “I-I can’t br-reathe”

“Copy my breathing okay..breathe in..”

“Breathe out..Breathe in..Breathe out”

Eventually his breathing had settled but his hands were still shaking. “I’m sorry..I’m really sorry” he cried. I couldn’t bear seeing him like this, “It’s not your fault, don’t feel like you have to hide this side of you” Mattheo wiped his tears. I hadn’t seen this side of him and quite frankly I don’t want to..it hurts too much. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked him. His eyes moved away from me but my hand never left his.

“It’s becoming too real, my father wants me to be a ruler like him and I can’t. I can’t lose you either, I’m only going to make you cry, I'm only going to hurt you. All day everyday all I see is him no matter what I’m doing I know I’m gonna be just like him. Everyone else sees it, I mean this Gryffindor came up to me and my friends and said exactly what everyone else says. I can’t live in fear of not knowing what’s going to happen. I’m only going to make everyone turn against you”

Tears began to fill up my eyes, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, and who cares what they say. They don’t know what you are really like..all they see is that one side. The side that they get told but they don’t realise how different you are. How sweet you are, how thoughtful you are. I mean maybe you punched a kid but guess what? So have I. If loving you makes me a villain I don’t fucking care. You mean so much to me that all my friends can leave me and hate me but it will be worth it for you”

“I love you,” he choked out. His brown curly hair stuck to his forehead, he placed his head in the crook of my neck and wrapped his arm around my waist. “I love you too, if you feel another anxiety attack..come to me”

He nodded his head and fell asleep.

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Thank you for reading <3

[jasvtsc]

demon!dean x angel!reader.

tw! mentions of death, anxiety, blood, graphic language, manipulation, dean being an a-hole, corruption, grammar mistakes (ig)

word count! 2.1k

it was hard seeing dean in this state.

at first, you thought he was dead. you watched him die in your arms. then, you found out that he was a demon? and to make everything worse, no one wanted to tell you anything — they thought it was for the best.

why? you had no clue.

so, when they brought him in, back to the bunker, you almost got a heart attack. you wanted to scream, cry, throw up and do everything else that humans do when they’re overstimulated with emotions. however, your state of distressed euphoria didn’t last for long when the bad news came crashing down on you, making you hyperventilate and experience what was called a panic attack. while you were getting more human, your beloved was turning into his worst nightmare.

dean was a demon.

yeah, he indeed died a year prior, but because he was bearing the Mark Of Cain at that time, he was resurrected. and you weren’t exactly sure if you were happy about that.

sure, it was dean. he looked the same.

but it wasn’t your dean.

those green eyes, once full of love and adoration for you, now were as empty as the hole in your heart that his death left. whenever you looked at him, you didn’t see him — the soul once shattered but put back together by you. now, it was only darkness which consumed every tiny bit of light you tried so hard to put in him.

it wasn’t your dean.

you were sitting in the war room in your usual place — an armchair in the corner, right next to the cabinet stuffed with lore books and other things. nervously picking at your wings, you let the feathers drop to the ground as you stared with empty eyes at the wall in front of you. castiel and sam were discussing what to do with dean and how could they possibly save him — if the whole process was even reversible.

you had no idea how they managed to catch him in the first place and drag him back here — no one was telling you anything. you were as clueless as you could be, knowing only that the man you loved the most was now the creature of darkness you were taught to despise since the early stage of creation.

you didn’t get a chance to talk to him yet. and you weren’t exactly sure if you wanted to. you only saw how they dragged his unconscious body to the basement and locked him up in there, chained to the chair in the middle of the anti-possession symbol.

as more and more feathers covered the wooden floor, the man and your angel brother noticed the state you were in. they looked at each other and then back at you. sam sighed and came closer, placing his hand on your shoulder. you shivered lightly and looked at the younger winchester.

“hey, listen, we think that we found something which can help bring dean back. but we can’t leave him alone here so—“ sam explained with a soft smile, and you could see that when he turned his head towards cas, he wanted him to continue. the angel widened his eyes and nodded.

“oh, yeah. we want you to stay with him,” as always, painfully straightforward.

“why me? can’t one of you stay?” because frankly, you didn’t want to face him. not yet.

“birdie, you’re—“ sam started, but you quickly cut him off.

“don’t call me that,” you said with a stern voice, your tone almost threatening. it was what dean used to call you. no way you’d let this word slip from someone else’s mouth — it was reserved only for dean winchester.

“okay, fine, i won’t,” he raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back as he felt like you were about to hit him with something. “it’s just… you’re in no shape to go outside at the moment. look what you’ve done to your wings—“

“what i do with them is my fucking business,” you hissed, and both of them were stunned. you just cursed.

they were looking at you in disbelief, and suddenly, you felt embarrassed with your little outburst. however, you weren’t going to apologize for your feelings — you had an absolute right to be upset and frustrated. so, shooting them both a cold glare, you left the room.

in the end, you were left alone with dean. it took you some time to mentally prepare for the confrontation. but eventually, you pulled your shit together and decided to go down to the basement.

carrying a tray with some food, you slowly opened the door and peeked inside. suddenly, you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and your mouth was dry as if you hadn’t seen a drop of water in days. you slowly walked out into the dim light, showing yourself to him after god knows how long.

and then, you heard it — a mocking, cold-hearted chuckle that echoed through the air.

“oh, now, who do we have here? my little birdie. i missed you so much, baby. did you miss me, too?” he asked with a cruel smirk, tilting his head to the side as he sized you up, his eyes flashing a pitch-black colour for a second.

for some reason, all the courage you built up in yourself vanished as soon as you made eye contact with him. he was scary. you never thought you’d admit it, but you were genuinely scared of the man who once used to hold you so dearly in his arms, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he placed small kisses on your temple. now, he had this darkness in his soul that made you want to hurl — your angelic nature physically declining being anywhere near such evil.

you tightened your fingers on the tray, looking around the room, thinking what you should do. you couldn’t free him from his restraints, but then again, he had to eat, somehow. because still, you cared about him. fuck, you still loved him.

“come on, birdie. you’re not even going to say hi to me? please, let me have a look at your pretty face. it’s been so long,” he cooed, suddenly putting on that soft voice you were so used to hearing. but then again, you could just sense the mockery and the dark intention behind his words. everything coming out of his mouth in this moment was insincere.

but was that enough to make you weak? yes.

because, oh god, even if it was just for your delusions and how naive you were, you just wanted him back. you wanted your dean back, and you were ready to pretend as long as it was needed.

so, slowly, you looked up at him, trying to hold back your tears as they dwelled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your rosy cheeks.

dean smirked menacingly, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly white teeth, letting out a grunt as he bit his lower lip, slightly thrusting his hips forward and spreading his legs.

“there we go. my good little angel,” he taunted, eyeing you up and down with a predatory smile.

“what happened to you?” you asked meekly, your voice trembling as you swallowed a lump in your throat. you were sick to your stomach, and the smell of evil basically radiating from him didn’t help.

“me? nothing, birdie. it’s me, dean. your dean. your precious human, don’t you remember?” he tried acting clueless and innocent but quickly gave in to his demonic nature, letting out a cruel laugh as he threw his head back. “come on, don’t act so fucking dense. i’m a demon, now. you should’ve gathered that much by now. or did they not tell you? no wonder. you’re so fucking infantile that it’s just straight-up pathetic. you’re not a fucking kid. sure, you’re this cute, little, clueless angel. but come on, use your damn feathered brain sometimes,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

and holy shit, did that hurt.

you bit your lower lip, your eyes now obviously glossy when you let out a small sniffle. you just wanted to run and hide somewhere, away from him and his cruel insults. now, you were 100% sure.

it wasn’t your dean.

you were ready to leave the basement. you turned around and took a deep breath, but dean wouldn’t let you go so easily. as soon as he noticed that you wanted to escape, he used his soft voice. again.

“hey, hey, hey. birdie, i’m sorry. you know i didn’t mean that. it’s just—“ he grunted as if he was struggling. “it’s this demon in me. i can’t control it,” he started panting heavily, a smirk still on his face as you were turned with your back facing him. “birdie, please. you have to believe me. i would never hurt you.”

damn, did that work.

hearing him struggle and be in pain just cut at your heartstrings. quickly, you turned around with a panicked expression and stepped closer to him.

“dean?” you asked, your voice breaking as tears flooded your face, dropping from your chin onto his thighs. he nodded, putting on an act and using his most pathetic expression.

“it’s me, birdie. please, help me,” he almost choked on his words, his voice pained and hurting. “please, baby, you’re the only one i can count on.”

you knew you’d probably regret that later. but jesus, you were so gullible, and you loved him so much.

almost immediately, you freed him from his restraints, cupping his face and stroking his stubbled cheeks. he sighed and grabbed your wrists, giving them a gentle squeeze as he leaned into your touch. at this point, you were long gone.

“tell me what’s happening, dean. let me help you,” you whispered, carefully scanning his face, still clueless that all of it was just a scene.

“it hurts. baby, it hurts so badly,” he whimpered, squeezing your wrists tighter. hearing that only made you panic even more.

“where? tell me where, i’ll heal you,” you sobbed, your vision blurry because of your tears.

“you can’t. you can’t heal it,” he panted, closing his eyes shut and grunting in mock pain.

“what do you mean?” you widened your eyes. “why not?”

“there’s only one way you can help me,” and you were ready to do anything for him, your self-preservation instincts turned off instantly. with a nod, you encouraged him to continue. “birdie, i need your blood.”

and that was enough for you to freeze on the spot. your mouth went dry, and you exhaled a shaky breath. he needed your blood, which was probably the most sacred thing in the universe. angel blood was the rarest to get, and it had its power.

“h-how? why?” you stuttered, shaking your head as you tried to understand it. you didn’t know anything about angels helping someone with their blood. and you were scared of the possible consequences.

dean cursed in his head, trying his best not to frown and scoff. instead, he kept on with the pathetic act. he whimpered again and then grunted, leaning forward as he put his hand on his chest, pretending that he struggled to breathe.

“please. i- i can’t,” he groaned and then screamed in pain.

“okay, what do i do?” you asked, widening your eyes as even more panic flooding your system.

“feed it to me. please, birdie. let me drink your blood,” he begged and then, you acted purely on your feelings, throwing any remaining logical thought out the window.

without much further ado, you lifted one of your wings and took a single feather. you slit your wrist with the sharper end, and as the crimson liquid started dripping down your skin at high speed, you put it closer to his face.

dean closed his eyes and inhaled the metallic scent. it took him a lot of effort not to moan in pure pleasure and excitement. he licked his lips and then grabbed your hand, putting his mouth in your wrist and drinking your blood like a man starved. you gasped and scrunched your eyes, tilting your head away as he dug his teeth into your skin for a better grip.

you began to feel more and more lightheaded as he drank more and more of your blood. when you finally looked back at him, only then did you realize your mistake. his eyes were pitch black, and his mouth was covered in your blood. he pulled away and smiled sadistically, looking at you like a feral animal.

he pushed you onto the floor and chuckled darkly, looking around the room. he grabbed the feather you dropped and it practically rotted in his hand, turning into a dark blade-like object. you widened your eyes, crawling away from him as he started to walk towards you with a bloodthirsty smile. and then, only one word slipped from his blood-covered mouth.

“run.”

a/n: idea inspired by @angelicjackles !! lmk what you think, all feedback is very much appreciated:))

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @a1ecmcdowell @angelicp0etry @figthoughts @fitxgrld @hrtsoldierboy @10ava01

[ripdragonbeans]

Through The Worst // modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: You're reminded just how much Aemond loves you.

TRIGGER WARNING!!! Self injury, in depth description of panic attack, talk of physically abusive family

CW: p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral f and m receiving

The starry sky has always been your companion, through the good and the bad. You take a deep breath and smile. You think of all the good in your life, your boyfriend, Aemond. Aemond, the light in your life.

Like him, your family wasn't the most stable place in your life. Fights between your parents were frequent and you had to protect your sister from more than one attempt of violence against her. When it came to you, though? You would gladly endure the pain if it meant your sister was safe.

When your mother left you and your sister with your father it was terrible. If he was angry you and your sister would find another place to spend the night. If you two were caught off guard, you did all you could to prepare yourself for a terrible night. Sometimes it was keeping food away from you, sometimes it was a beating. But it was never too much, or somewhere that could be seen by anyone else. All the hits were strategic, easily being covered by a regular t-shirt.

While your body almost never scarred, as bruises were the only injuries that would mark your skin, scars remained nonetheless. Unfortunately, those were your own doing.

It was never intentional, you would tell yourself. And it was true. Some people would see them and automatically assume that you wanted to die but that wasn't the case. If anything you just wanted to feel something.

Growing up in that household on top of not being at the best school was not a good combination. Classmates were cruel to you, whether you knew it or not. With such a kind heart you gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. Even the guys who dated you as a joke or who just wanted to add you to their body count.

Once you were old enough to get out of the house, you did. You tried to bring your sister with you but she refused. She believed that if she stayed with your father she could help him. You tried everything to convince her not to stay but she wouldn't budge. So you left home without her.

You felt someone lay down next to you in the grass. Immediately you could tell it was Aemond. You gave the sky a small smile before turning over to face him.

“Couldn't sleep?” You asked him.

He shrugged. “I was restless. I know you can't sleep sometimes so I figured I'd check in on you. You weren't in your room so I came out here.”

If you were anywhere else you'd be sharing the same bed but since you were spending the summer with Aemond’s siblings you had your own room. While his mother wasn't around you knew it would be a bit much if she heard her son was sharing a bed with someone, even with them being in college, even with his own girlfriend. So, you stayed in a room, not too far away from Aemond's, but still too far in your own opinion.

You cupped his face with your hand and ran your thumb across his cheek. “You know, I miss you at night sometimes. Even if we've spent the whole day together.”

“I miss you too, my love.” He placed his hand on top of your and kissed your palm.

You closed your eyes, content with his presence. For a while you two just lay there in the grass underneath the night sky until Aemond got up and pulled you up.

“I think it's time for bed. We can sleep in my room tonight,” he whispered.

“Oh, getting rebellious, are we?” You joked.

“No, I just want you to fall asleep in my arms tonight. Is that okay?”

“Of course it's okay.”

A gentle kiss graced the top of your head as the two of you went in for the rest of the night.

That night you slept peacefully wrapped up in Aemond’s arms. When you fell asleep he was there. When you woke up he was there. His soft snoring brought a sweet smile to your face as you brushed his hair back with your hand. His hair was also so neat, you felt somewhat blessed to see it unkept and so…comfortable.

When you saw his eyelids begin to flutter open you peppered his face with kisses.

“Good morning, my love,” you whispered in his ear.

He chuckled. “Don't do that or we may not get out of bed.”

“Do what?” You asked innocently.

He gave you a knowing look. “You know what your whispers do to me.”

“Well maybe I want that, I'm just trying to get you ready.”

“Congratulations, it worked.”

Aemond captured you in a passionate kiss. His hands ran up your body to capture your tits over your shirt. It was a flimsy shirt, but it was still too much. Aemond circled your breasts with his hands, getting closer and closer to your nippes. You whined against him and arched your back to get closer. He took advantage of that and snuck his tongue in your mouth. The feel of him adding more and more. Your hands went to his hair and you pulled him even closer.

Aemond smiled at your eagerness and gave in, running each thumb over a pebbled nub. He had been teasing you so much you felt yourself clench at his touch.

After torturing you like this a few more times, each one causing louder and louder whines, he finally relented and pulled the shirt over your head. Free from the barrier, Aemond dipped his head down to take a bud in his mouth.

“Fuck, Aemond,” you whispered.

You reached down and felt him hard under his briefs. You palmed him as he lifted his hips to meet your hand. He was just as needy as you.

As he switched from one nipple to the other you tugged down his briefs just enough to free him. Hard and red at the tip, you got excited just looking at it.

Aemond released you with a pop before pulling you into another kiss. He was about to slip off your panties when you stopped him.

“I want to taste you first,” you told him.

You skipped his briefs off all while keeping eye contact. His eye never left yours. They widened as you dipped your head down to lick the head. Just that small touch had him buck into you. You gave his head another tiny lick and he groaned.

“Take my cock, my girl. I want to see your face stuffed.”

You gave him a sly smile before taking as much of him as possible all at once. You've done this enough times to be used to the stretch. Of course, you still need to warm up before taking *all* of him.

His precum was salty on your tongue and you loved it. You swirled your tongue over his head while bobbing your own head up and down. Raising your eyes, you could see Aemond gripped the sheets and tried to keep everything in.

You hummed, causing vibrations to go through him as he flung his head back in ecstacy.

“If you don't stop I'm -”

The words spurred you on. Hallowing your cheeks and bobbing faster, you wanted him to spill himself inside you. You wanted to taste him, all of him.

“Fuck!” He spilled into your mouth and you swallowed each drop. You let him go with a pop and crawled over to him.

Aemond brought his hand to your face and wiped away a dribble of his cum that was left on your lip.

“My turn,” he said before flipping the two of you over.

You landed on your back, sprawled over the bed. Aemond gave you a mischievous grin before settling himself between your legs. He hooked an arm over each thigh to keep you from moving away.

“I don't think that's necessary -” you began to say. “Fuck!”

His head was fully between your thighs and he was languidly lapping at your folds. He was slow and deliberate with each flick of his tongue and it drove you mad. He moved his focus to your clit and sucked on it, making you whimper. You pushed your hips up to meet him in a desperate attempt for more. You could feel Aemond smile against you as he sped up his flicks and licks. You were nearing your peak, you could feel yourself tightening but he wasn't going to let you off that easily. He pushed two fingers in, making you groan in surprise and pleasure. He pumped you with his fingers hard and he felt so damn good. Curling his fingers, he found your sweet spot.

“Aemond - Aemond, please, I'm gonna -”

“It's okay, baby. Let go. I want you to soak my hand.”

At his words the building pressure crescendoed into its peak. Blinding white pleasure was all you could see. Pleasure was all you could feel. Aemond didn't stop, he fucked you with his fingers all the way through your orgasm. He didn't stop until your body had stopped shaking. Gently pulling his finger out, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I can't wait to fuck you,” he whispered.

“Then why are you waiting?” You taunted.

Aemond growled then quickly flipped you over on your stomach.

“You want to be fucked? I'll fuck you.”

He teased you, playing with your entrance with the tip of his cock. You whimpered and tried to press back into him.

“So desperate for my cock. Don't worry, you'll get what you want.”

You could hear his smile but you didn't care. He was so close and you needed him inside you. In a quick motion, Aemond sheathed himself inside you. That glorious stretch shot through your body. As many times as he's fucked you, you know you'll never get completely used to the size of him and you welcome it gladly.

Relentlessly he pounded into you, each thrust hitting that perfect spot. You loved it when he fucked you like this. It felt so perfect.

His hands gripped your hips to move you in time with him. There would be bruises from how tight he was holding you but it was something you loved.

Soon, a hand was brought around to play with your clit. You writhed against him but it was no use. You orgasm was building and building and the extra stimulation only made it rush to the surface even more.

Aemond pulled you up so you back was flat against his chest.

“Does this feel good, my love? My cock slamming into your pussy?”

“Yes, yes - fuck!”

“I need you to come for me. Can you do that?”

You mumbled out an answer.

“Aw, my baby has gone dumb,” he teased. “Let go. Come for me.”

He brought his other hand up to a breast and pinched a nipple. With a scream and the arch of you back you came undone on his cock. Aemond fucked you through it, chasing his own peak. Soon, he emptied himself inside you and the two of you collapsed on the bed.

You heard a soft laugh.

“I will never get used to that,” he whispered.

“Neither will I.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before pulling himself out. You complained at the emptiness but he was quick to placate you with a warm towel to clean up.

Once the two of you were clean, Aemond gathered you into his arms and held you close.

“I love you, all of you.”

Those were the last words you heard before falling back asleep.

Screaming. All you could hear was screaming. It wasn't anyone around you; it was yourself. You hated this. You absolutely despise yourself when it happens. No control. None.

And you couldn't get it back.

It was nothing, it should've been nothing.

When you woke up you knew something was wrong. Your nightmare shook you and soon you were snowballing into a panic. A panic you couldn't stop.

When you saw that Aemond wasn't asleep next to you, you freaked out at the absence of him. Thoughts poured in from everywhere, being about everything. Maybe you were just a joke to him, just like how all the others used you. Maybe your father showed up to take you back.

You shut your eyes and pulled your knees to your chest. Rocking yourself back and forth, you tried to calm down, but to no avail.

“Aemond,” you whispered, “please come back. Please, please.”

Slowly, you began to dig your fingernails into the sides of your knees. You could feel the indents that were forming and almost wished to break skin and draw blood. Drawing blood was the only way you could feel something. Only then was the pain enough to even feel a hint of something.

You took your nails and drew them back and forth. Soon, you created a groove in your skin. You moved faster. You were desperate. You needed to feel something now or you were going to scream. While you continued to scratch you absentmindedly began to hit the back of your head on the headboard.

Two things now.

You could almost feel two things.

Looking down at your leg you saw that you broke skin. You couldn't help but smile at your achievement, sick as it was, horrible as it was; but you didn't care.

Feel. All you need it to feel.

Your snowballing thoughts soon turned into memories.

A group of girls laughing at you in the hallway.

Your first boyfriend telling you it was all a joke.

Finding another boyfriend making out with someone else.

The first time you slept with someone, thinking they cared but later laughed in your face when you asked what happens next.

Your father getting more and more aggressive as he steps closer to you.

The fear in your sister’s eyes as you take the blame.

Your father’s fist flying into your gut.

Your sister. Choosing your father over you.

It was too much. Your fingernails and the headboard were not enough for you to feel. You needed something more. You hated yourself for thinking this way but it was the only comfort you had then and the comfort you go to now.

Aemond still wasn't back. You tried to hold on for him. You knew he was coming back even if your jumbled mind told you otherwise.

“I'm so sorry,” you whispered as tears fell.

There was nothing you could do to make yourself stop. Instead, you got up, wrapped a blanket around yourself, and began looking for something, anything, that was a little sharp.

Keys. Aemond’s keys. Your eyes widened when you found them and you were quick to grab them off the dresser. Taking them in your hand, you began to scratch yourself back and forth. You were beginning to feel more and it was ecstasy. Tears tumbled down your cheeks as you let out a dry laugh. You were so focused on what you were finally feeling that you didn't hear the door open. Or hear him come behind you.

Aemond placed his hand on top of yours to stop the scratching.

“Take a breath, love.”

You stopped scratching but you were now shaking. You could barely get the words out. “Too much, Aemond. I'm so sorry.”

“There's nothing to be sorry for.”

He opened your hand and got you to drop the keys into his own. You stood there, frozen, as he put it away. He came up to you and put your hands in his.

“What happened?” He was concerned and his head was racing but his face remained soft.

“I…I don't know. I woke up, you weren't here, and I just started spiraling.”

“You had a panic attack because I wasn't next to you when you woke up?”

“No! It's not your fault!” Tears began to well up once again. “It's my head, it's my father, it's all those people in my life. They haunt me, Aemond. I've tried to erase them but whenever I get a little scared it all hits me again.”

You began to pull away from him and he let you, giving you the space to think and breathe. You bring yourself back to the bed and curl up.

“I love you, Aemond. I do. And I'm so, so sorry I'm like this. I hate it. I hate my head. I hate my father. I hate my ex’s. Hell, even to an extent I hate my sister for choosing our father over me. Everything hurts me and I hate it!”

Silence.

“Please say something,” you whisper.

Aemond sat himself down on the bed. “May I hold your hand?”

You nod and let him take your hand in his.

“No one's ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in.” He brought your knuckles up to his lips and gently kissed them. “As long as I'm with you, I swear.”

You closed your eyes and finally took a deep breath. “It's so much and I wish it wasn't. I've been working so hard it all crashed.”

“And that's okay, love. No matter what, I will be next to you.”

You pushed yourself closer to Aemond, seeking his warmth. Once you were close enough, he wrapped you in his arms and kissed the top of your head.

“We'll stay in here all day if you want. Just us,” he offered.

“Just us,” you echoed. As blissful as that thought was, you shook it off. “No, we should go out. I think I need to go somewhere else.”

“The park then? Or we can watch a movie?”

You cocked your head in thought. “Let's go for a walk, Aemond. I need to see the world again.”

“My love, I'll give you the world if you ask.” He tilted your head up and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. While there was no heat, there was still passion.

Passion, and the promise of undying protection and love.

[tiddygame]

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s a little Josh fic for you all. Just as an aside, this fic follows the reader after she’s just gotten out of a past relationship that ended badly. I used gender neutral pronouns and words for her ex and Josh is also written as being queer in this fic. I wanted to make this as inclusive an experience as possible for my readers so that is why I chose to use gender neutral language for her ex-partner. And obviously, Josh has never given us a specific label for himself and so I didn’t want to assume anything about him by doing so myself but I do write that he’s had past relationships with both men and women – but I am in no way claiming to know his dating life or how he identifies. I hope you all enjoy and happy Valentine’s Day to each of you <3 

Warnings: Smut (p in v sex, unprotected sex), oral (f. receiving), fingering, pleasuredom!Josh, discussions of infidelity (past relationship - not between reader and Josh), slight panic attack (nothing major), feelings of body insecurity, parties, drinking. 18 Only. Minors DNI 

Word Count: 5k

♡︵‿♡︵‿♡‿︵♡‿︵♡

Fuck them was all you really had left to say. In all honesty… there wasn’t much to say at this point. You’d given them 3 years of your life – 3 years spent crafting a future around a person who, in the end, hadn’t cared enough to do the same for you. You’d been with them for 3 whole years, had spent hours and hours of time with them, loved them at their best and their worst, comforted them when they needed it, been their shoulder to cry on, celebrated their achievements, and loved them with your whole heart for those entire 3 years. And how had they repaid you in the end? By climbing into bed with someone else. A quick fuck with a stranger that they met at a bar was apparently worth more than the 3 years that you had spent loving them the way that you had. It’s crazy how even after all that time you can still find out that you hardly even knew a person at all. 

And now here you are the day before Valentine's Day eating ice cream and watching The Office reruns on your couch to try and keep from actually thinking about the hurt you have in your heart. You’ve cried all the tears you have and now you’re just left with a hollowness that you can’t seem to shake. There’s a hole in your heart where all that love for them used to be and now you’re stuck in this weird limbo between heartbroken and downright furious. 

Ping!You glance down to where your phone screen has lit up with a text message. You pick it up and immediately sigh at the message that waits for you. 

Danny 9:08 PM 

Please tell me you’re still going to come to the party tomorrow night 

You hadn’t been planning on it. You’d thought since the very moment that Josh had brought up the idea of a Valentine’s Day party that it was borderline ridiculous. But you had agreed to go simply because your partn- your ex had said that they wanted to go. But now that they weren’t in the picture anymore… the thought of going to a party where everyone is going to be hanging off the arms of their partners and, as Josh had put it, love is gonna be in the air! makes you want to scream. Hell no. Fuck no, even. 

You 9:09 PM 

Don’t think so. Not really in the Valentine’s Day mood to be honest. 

It takes hardly even a minute before Danny answers you back. 

Danny 9:10 PM 

Totally fair 

Danny 9:12 PM

There’s gonna be free booze tho… And you’ve gotta stop rotting away on your couch eventually

You pause for a moment before answering. He’s right to be completely honest. You’ve spent two weeks holed up in your apartment and wallowing in self-pity after your breakup. And honestly it’s starting to get a little old. But a Valentine’s Day party? You’re not sure that that is going to be the best break from your self-imposed lock down. But on the other hand… free booze does make the whole idea just a little bit more appealing. Plus, it’d be a great excuse to get dressed up and feel sexy for a night and have it be just for you and not for anyone else. And you haven’t actually gotten to see Danny and the rest of the guys a whole lot recently thanks to their busy schedules. 

You sigh once again before texting Danny back in defeat. 

You 9:15 PM 

Fine

♡︵‿♡︵‿♡‿︵♡‿︵♡

Any and all excitement that you had the night before is entirely gone by the time you step through the doorway of Josh’s incredibly color-coordinated home. You’d felt sexy in your outfit as you’d stepped out of your apartment but the loud music and even louder people make you want to turn heel and run in the opposite direction. But you’re here now so you figure you might as well enjoy the free booze. You’d taken an Uber tonight solely so that you can get as drunk as you want without having to worry about driving back to your apartment.

“Y/n!” 

Danny comes bounding over to you, crushing you in a hug that steals your breath away. You squeeze him back and giggle softly. 

“You smell like beer.” You scold him, wrinkling your nose in mock disgust. 

Danny smiles and nudges your shoulder with his. 

“And you don’t and that’s just not acceptable.” 

With a comforting hand placed on your upper back, Danny leads you through the crowd of people into Josh’s kitchen where an array of bottles and stacks of red solo cups await you on the counter. And amidst it all, pouring himself another drink, is the host of this over-the-top Valentine’s Day party. He grins at you as you and Danny enter and you can’t help but to smile back. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna make it out tonight!” Josh starts, throwing back a shot before turning his body to face the two of you fully. 

You shrug and jab your thumb towards Danny who laughs lightly. 

“I’m persuasive.” Is the only bit of explanation he gives. 

“And annoying.” You mutter playfully as you walk over to the counter to survey the various choices in alcohol that lay before you. “Watcha makin?” 

Josh’s attention drops back down to the drink that he’d been in the middle of pouring when you’d walked in. 

“Tequila Sunrise.” He holds up the glass for you to see and you’re impressed with how nice the drink looks. “I’m no bartender but…”

You shake your head, eyeing the beautifully balanced red and orange colors in the glass. 

“Nonsense. You know you’re good at mixing drinks. That looks great.”

A pink blush dusts the apples of his cheeks (the color of them making the white dots of his makeup stand out even more) and even the tips of his ears turn a shade darker at your compliment. 

“I think you should try a sip before you praise me too much.” He extends his hand and holds the glass out to you. “For you. And if it sucks… Jake is the one who told me how to make it so blame him.”

You take the glass and sip the drink, closing your eyes and humming at the taste. Josh is watching you intently and you wonder briefly if he’s always been so damn attractive.

“And if it’s really good?” You question, taking another sip. 

He puffs out his chest and grins. 

“Why then it’s all me, of course.”

You can only shake your head at him but a smile spreads across your lips despite yourself. 

“It’s really good, Josh. You have my stamp of approval.”

Your eyes meet Josh’s and those brown eyes of his glint with something that you can’t quite name before it’s gone in a flash. You drop your gaze to the drink in your hand and Josh looks towards Danny. 

“Daniel, care for a drink?”

– 

You’d spent the last hour or two milling about throughout the house, saying hi to friends and occasionally bumping into Josh who always smiles warmly at you in passing as he busies himself with being a cordial host. 

And you’d had perhaps one too many drinks and the room is starting to spin by the time you collapse onto a sofa to take a breather. Danny had stuck by your side for a while before his date had arrived, at which point you’d latched yourself onto Sam until he decided to leave early with a girl he met. You’d gone searching for Jake but he’d been nowhere to be found. Likely, he’s already gone home. He’s never one to stick around at social gatherings this big for too long. 

You try not to but your heart aches slightly that you’d been abandoned by Sam and Danny. You know that ‘abandoned’ is a strong word but… they knew you were freshly single and hurting. You had hoped that they would have been more willing to spend just a little extra time with you tonight. In fact, the longer you think about it, the more your hurt feelings begin to grow. You’re not angry with them. Not all. If you’re being honest with yourself, you envy them. They both had someone to spend the night with tonight. Jake, too. 

You glance around and suddenly all you can see is other people with their partners. Holding hands, laughing, touching, kissing. Your breathing picks up. Does everyone here but you have someone? It sure freaking feels like it. Maybe it’s the alcohol making you have such a strong reaction but you’re suddenly desperate to get out of here. You need to get out of this place. You stand, the abrupt movement causing your head to spin a bit but you ignore it in favor of trying to find an escape. As you make your way through the throng of people it’s like navigating through a sea made of nothing but smiles and kisses that aren’t for you. Your eyes scan frantically until at last… there! The door to the back porch. 

You push your way to it and open the door quickly and slam it shut behind you as you escape out onto Josh’s back porch. You pause there, bowing your head and taking a moment to try and steady your breathing. Your throat burns with unshed tears but you swallow them down – you refuse to shed any more tears over the person who treated you so horribly. You refuse to give them the satisfaction. 

“Y/n?” 

The sound of your name makes you jump and your eyes snap open to find Josh leaning against the bannister, his head turned back to look at you. 

“Hi.” You answer him, willing your voice to sound more composed than you feel. “I didn’t see you out here.” 

He smiles and beckons you over to him with a lazy wave.

“Just taking a break for a moment.” His voice carries a warmth that you hadn’t realized you needed as you come to lean on the bannister beside him. “You okay?” He keeps his face purposefully neutral but you can see the concern swirling in his eyes. 

“Yeah. Just got a little overwhelming in there.”

He nods, the motion making an errant curl settle onto his forehead. Your hand itches to reach up and swipe it back into place. 

“No Alex tonight?” 

It’s an innocent question but your ex’s name sends your heart breaking all over again. You’re not even sure why you’re still so upset. Clearly they didn’t love you the way you had loved them and you want to say that you’ve moved on but… 

“No. We’re not together anymore.” 

“Oh.” Josh breathes out, his features melting into a look of pure sympathy. It makes you want to cry even more. “I’m sorry.” 

You shrug.

“It’s okay, really. They fucked a stranger in our own bed so… I’d say it’s a good thing that we broke things off.”

Josh winces at the bitterness in your tone and looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what. 

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m still so upset. It’s not like I love them anymore. Not really.”  The alcohol in your systems seems to have loosened your tongue as you begin speaking again despite having no intentions of wanting to talk about them at all tonight. 

“Anyone would be upset, Y/n. Alex betrayed your trust. Regardless of how you feel about them now… it’s still painful. That’s normal.”

You huff. 

“It’s stupid. Stupid and tiring and-” You stop yourself and swallow thickly. “Sorry.” 

Josh smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes all the way but it’s genuine. 

“Don’t be. Trust me, I know how you feel. Once that trust is broken… it’s like you’re afraid you’ll never get it back again. With anyone.” 

You turn to look at him but his face is pointed back out to the yard. As willing as Josh is to discuss matters like this with others, his own relationships he’s always been private about. He’s had a few relationships that you know of in the years that you’ve known him – some men, some women. You’d met only a handful of them in person but he’d never seemed to allow anyone in your little circle to actually get to know them other than Jake. You had no idea that maybe he’s gone through something similar. 

“Sometimes I just… It feels like I’m never going to find my person. And all this-” You gesture towards the door and the Valentine’s Day festivities that lay beyond it, “just didn’t really help at all. It feels like everyone has someone but me.”

A warm, steadying hand lands on your shoulder and you swear that a tingle runs up the length of your spine at the touch. Josh’s eyes glitter in the light of the night sky and the porch light casts shadows across his sharp jawline. And as you look at him, it feels like you’re seeing him, really seeing him for the first time. And he’s beautiful. 

“You’ll find your person, Y/n. I know you will. You’re too nice of a person to not.”

You can feel your cheeks grow hot. 

“Thank you, Josh. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He grins, dropping his hand from your shoulder at last. “That’s what friends are for, right? Helping each other out when we’re down?”

For some reason, his words make you pause. You and Josh have been friends for so long and you’d only ever seen him as a friend. But now, standing next to him and thinking back to all the years of kindness and laughter that he’s given you… you’re struck suddenly with the thought that maybe you don’t just want to be friends with him. You’ve always been able to acknowledge that he’s attractive. And he makes you laugh like no one else can. Always there for you when you need a shoulder to cry on. Hell, he’s been one of the only constants in your ever-changing life. And he’s-

You shake your head at yourself. He’s just a friend. He’d just said so himself. 

“I wish more people were like you, Josh.” You find yourself saying softly. “You’re one of the good ones.”

He blushes – the apples of his cheeks flushing a dark red that reaches all the way down his neck too. Has he always blushed this much around you? First earlier when you’d complimented his drink making and now… Surely not. Right?

“You just have to be patient.” He tilts his head and grins, nudging your shoulder playfully with his. “And hey, if you can’t find someone else you can always give dating me a try.” 

You don’t mean to but you laugh, perhaps a little harder than you should have. The idea has your heart pounding in your chest and you desperately don’t want him to see how much the joke affected you. A desperate wish that bleeds into regret as you watch the light in his eyes dim ever so slightly as you laugh. 

You want to take it back. You want to tell him that maybe you’ve been blind this whole time and not seen what was right in front of you. But he only smiles tightly and straightens himself, popping his back and rolling his neck before beginning to turn away. 

“I suppose I should get back inside. I’m being a terrible host by hiding out here.” 

With that, he turns on his heel to begin walking back inside but his name explodes past your lips before you can stop it. 

“Yeah?” 

The hope in his voice makes your stomach drop. 

“I-” You don’t know. You don’t know what to say. You don’t even know if these feelings are real. Have they been here this whole time, hiding under the surface? Or did it take you getting heartbroken by someone else to see the kindness that he’s been offering for years? There’s so many questions swirling through your head and you can’t seem to even form a full thought. Defeatedly, you shake your head. “Never mind. I’ll see you later.”

Josh stares at you for a long, tense moment before nodding his head. 

“I’ll see you later, Y/n.” 

You turn away before you see him leave but the sound of the back door shutting makes you wince. Should you have told him how you feel? Hell, you don’t understand how you’re feeling so you don’t even know what you would have told him anyway. 

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve just made a mistake. You’ve spent years desperately wishing for true love. Dates with people had come and gone and Alex had just been the first person who seemed to want the same from a relationship as you. No one had expected you to date them. No one had expected the two of you to last as long as you did. And honestly? You hadn’t expected it either. Alex was… comfortable. Safe. 

You’d been so caught up, so desperate to find love… and maybe it’s been right in front of you all along. He has been right in front of you. And you just let him walk away. 

Frantically, you whirl around to go and find him but stop short at the sight of Josh shoving the door open and coming back outside. He looks frenzied but determined as he strides over to you. You’re frozen in place, but with each step that he takes you grow more and more certain about the warmth spreading through your chest. Yes, he really had been right here all along. 

Josh stops. He’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath. 

“Y/n.” His voice is soft – quiet but just as determined as his steps had been. “I couldn’t- I had to come back. I couldn’t not tell you.” He rambles, his dark eyes pinning you in place before him. “I know we’re just friends and- and I know that you don’t-” 

“Josh,” you interrupt, “I love you too.”

“What?” 

He’s utterly still, jaw dropped open and eyes gaping at you. If your heart wasn’t pounding so hard you think you might laugh at the sight of Josh Kiszka rendered speechless. 

“I said I love you too. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before… but I do, Josh.” 

His mouth remains open for a long moment and you think for one brief, horrible second that you’ve made a mistake and he doesn’t feel the same. But then his lips spread into a wide smile that makes your heart melt. 

“You- you love me?” 

You nod. 

“And I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it sooner.” 

He huffs, the noise a mix between a sigh and a laugh before he takes a step even closer, his lips hovering just above yours. He pauses there, waiting. You give him a slight nod and then his lips are on yours – soft and pillowy and oh so warm against your own. With a soft whine, your hands find perchance on his shoulders while his palms settle on your cheeks, thumbs caressing your cheek bones. The heat of him is delicious and you use your grip on his shoulders to pull him in closer to you. He answers with a breathy moan into your mouth that sends liquid fire pooling between your legs.  

“Y/n.” Your name escapes him with a sigh, his lips parting from yours for a moment to breathe. “I’ve dreamed of this.” 

“Yeah?” You whisper, lips ghosting over his once again, just barely touching. “Just of kissing me?”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head, curls bouncing. 

“Much more than that.” 

“Show me?” 

Josh answers you with a Cheshire grin and turns his head to look over his shoulder at the party still going on inside. 

“Think they’ll notice that I’m gone?”

“We can be quick.” 

He shakes his head and grins but laces his fingers with yours and begins to tug you towards the door. 

“No. We won’t.” 

“You can’t just leave.” You start to protest but Josh silences you with a grin. 

“They’ll take the hint and leave eventually. We’ll worry about cleaning up tomorrow.”

– 

You barely notice the people as Josh leads you through them and none of them seem to notice the two of you as you both slip up the stairs. It feels like a dream as he tugs you through the threshold of his bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft ‘click.’ 

“So many dreams and so little time.” He murmurs, hands finding your hips and guiding you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the bed. 

Josh kisses you again before pulling back and letting the moment hold for a moment. You take in your surroundings. The soft, white bed sheets. The warm glow of the lamp in the corner and the smell of incense. The room screams Josh – cluttered but organized, comfy.  

“But enough time,” Josh continues, palms sweeping down your sides, “that we can do as much or as little as you want tonight.” 

Josh is selfless in everything else that he does and you can’t help but smile knowing that he's selfless in here too. 

“I want you.” Is all your brain can manage to come up with. 

But it does the trick given the way Josh’s eyes glitter with mischief as his fingers dance across your shoulders and hook underneath the straps of your dress. 

“Can I take this off?”

You nod and he slides the fabric down, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving your bra and panties on display for him. You’d gone with black lace and based on the groan that rumbles in his chest, it was the right choice. Before undressing you further, Josh tugs his own shirt up and over his head and tosses it haphazardly to the floor. His khakis are next and you exhale shakily as you take in his smooth, creamy skin. His body is lithe and toned, muscles defined but still slim. There’s something effortlessly graceful about his body and you reach out a hand to feel him, a palm settling on his pec and the other hand grabbing his waist and squeezing. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” His words come out husky and a little gruff and your core pulses. “Bra off then on the bed.” 

You comply, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor before jumping up and scrambling backwards until your back hits the wall of plush pillows guarding the head board. He follows you, climbing onto the bed and settling onto his knees between your thighs. Chocolate eyes sweep up to yours, somehow filled with an almost innocence despite what the two of you are about to do. 

“Can I taste you, Y/n?” He pleas– and it is a plea. 

You want to nod. To let him use that pretty mouth on you for as long as he pleases. But years of insecurity – insecurity that’s only been made worse after recent events, bubbles to the surface. 

“I- I didn’t shave. You don’t have to.” You hate how weak your voice sounds. You hate that you feel like this. You hate how every single cell in your body wants to close your thighs and hide from him despite the love that you see swirling through his eyes. 

“I want to.” Josh answers, warm hands finding purchase on your thighs. “And I don’t care about whether or not you shaved, Y/n. It’s your body that you’re choosing to share with me.” His thumbs trace small, soothing circles into your skin. “But if you don’t feel comfortable that’s okay too.” 

You take a deep breath. You let all those insecurities that have welled up recently come to the forefront of your mind. You let yourself feel each one. And then you let them go. 

“Y-you can. You can taste me.”

Josh smiles softly, the weight of your trust not lost on him as he leans down and slides your panties down your legs. Already soaked, Josh hums at the sight. 

“Stunning.” He says, swiping a finger through your folds and earning a cry from between your lips. 

Hooking his arms beneath your thighs and dropping his body to lay against the mattress, Josh pulls your glistening center flush against him and sucks your clit into his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the swollen bud and your hips buck up to meet the feeling. 

“Oh fuck.” You whine, eyes shut tightly against the onslaught of pleasure. 

His tongue works over you effortlessly, switching between circling around your clit and slipping into your entrance. The sound is obscene. Your wetness coupled with the way Josh moans into your heat has the band of pleasure in your lower belly beginning to tighten already. It’s like he somehow knows exactly what you like the most – effortlessly coaxing you to the edge. He’s groaning into you, head thrashing from side to side and his own hips pushing down into the bed.

“Josh.” You warn, your body beginning to tense as the white hot pleasure keeps building. 

“Cum in my mouth, mama. I need it.” 

With one last lick of his tongue against you the wave breaks. With a loud cry, you let the pleasure overtake you and Josh keeps working you through it, making sure to give you the most pleasure he can as your orgasm works its way through you. 

Finally, he sits up and wipes his mouth against the back of his hand. 

“How was that?” 

It’s an innocent question but the cocky grin he’s sporting lets you know that he knows exactly how good it was. 

“Fuck.” Is all you manage to say and Josh giggles. 

“Eloquent.” 

Josh sits up and you can see his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers, his flushed tip trapped underneath the waistband. Even covered you can see that he’s big. You’d always known that he was – his jumpsuits leave little to the imagination. But seeing it like this, hard and leaking for you, makes your breath stutter in your chest. You reach out to feel him but he stops you, shaking his head and grinning. 

“Not done yet.” Is all he says before his fingers find your wet folds again. 

Slowly, he presses a finger in and you whine, legs falling apart wider as he curls the digit. He’s watching you intently, noting every shift of your hips and every change in expression as he explores your body, finding what makes you tick. His finger brushes against your sweet spot and you cry out his name. 

“Oh fuck, Josh. Right there.” 

He grins. 

“There it is.” 

He adds another finger, scissoring them to stretch you but making sure to brush that spot over and over again as he does so. You’re a whining mess beneath him, embarrassingly close to cumming again already. No one has ever paid attention like this – actually taking the time to learn your body and its responses in order to maximize your pleasure. Maybe it's that thought that has you about to reach climax again. 

“You gonna cum on my fingers, Y/n?”

You nod your head, unable to form words as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“Yeah? I can feel you squeezing them, baby. You can cum, angel. Just let it go.”

Your body trembles and shakes all over as you cum and Josh moans in delight at the sight of you surrendering to pleasure, at the sight of the pleasure that he is giving you. This one lasts longer than the last and Josh works you through every second of it until you're panting and shying away from the touch as the oversensitivity hits you. 

“Good?” He murmurs, eyes practically black as they stare at you. 

“Very, very good.” You answer with a lazy, satiated smile. “Are you going to fuck me now?” 

Josh’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and your eyes track the movement. You want him. You want him so bad it aches. 

“Only if you want me to. We don’t have to do anything else tonight.”

Of course he didn’t expect more from you. And you’re 100% certain that if you asked him to, he’d lay down and go to bed with you right now despite how hard his aching member must be. But you don’t want that. You want him. All of him. 

“I want you to, Josh. I need you to fuck me.”

A soft, delicate little whine escapes him. 

“Okay.” 

Wordlessly, he reaches over to his night stand and opens a drawer. His hand disappears inside it before reappearing with a condom in hand. He palms himself once with his right hand through his boxers before hooking his fingers in the waistband and tugging them down. 

You never knew that a cock could be so fucking pretty. 

He rips the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his length, hissing as he does so. 

You let your legs fall apart and beckon him to you. With dark eyes, Josh pumps his length in his hand once, twice, before he guides himself into your soaked entrance. He’s big, the stretch causing a delicious mix of pleasure bordering on pain. He moans as he bottoms out and your hands latch onto his shoulders and your fingertips dig into the muscle. 

“Fuck, you feel good.” You moan, already aching for him to move. 

“And you feel like satin, angel. So fuckin’ tight.”

Slowly, Josh pulls almost all the way out of you before sliding back in again. His arms come to rest on either side of your head, his weight resting on his forearms. With each snap of his hips you can’t help but moan. Every movement, every inch of him, sends sparks of pleasure through your entire body.  Sex with Alex had been rough – frenzied and almost mindless. But this? This is worship. 

“Don’t stop.” You beg, heels digging into his hips to keep him close. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His voice sounds wrecked – cracked and broken with his own pleasure. 

“You’re so good.” You find yourself mumbling, eyes squeezing shut. “So fucking good, Josh.”

You can feel his length twitch and pulse inside of you as soon as the words leave your mouth. He likes knowing that he’s making you feel good. 

“Wanna make you cum, mama. Wanna make you feel good.” He whines, jaw dropping open and face contorting in pleasured agony. 

You nod your head frantically, tits bouncing as he picks up his pace. 

“Feels so good. Oh fuck!” Your own voice sounds foreign to you – high pitched and almost squeaky. You’re losing yourself in the pleasure, his cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly. 

“Please cum, baby. Cum on my cock. I need to feel it.”

His right hand slips into the heated space between your bodies and his finger finds your clit, ruthlessly swirling the pad of his finger in time with his thrusts. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum, Josh. Please, please, please.”

“You don’t have to beg, baby.” He grits out, his pace beginning to falter as your walls clench mercilessly around him. “Gonna take care of you. Gonna get you there.”

It hardly takes a minute more before the band snaps. With a harsh scream, your orgasm rips through you. Stars explode behind your eyes and any thoughts that you had have been ripped from you. All you can focus on is the pleasure as Josh keeps fucking you through your high. The only words you can think of fall from your lips in a breathy whine. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Josh cries out harshly, his own body tensing as he finally lets himself reach his own climax. 

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming. Y/n.” His words are almost a growl, rumbling from deep within his chest as his orgasm hits him fully. “I love you too. Fuck, I love you so much.”

With one last thrust of his hips the two of you finally settle, Josh’s weight coming down to pin you to the mattress as you both come back to yourselves. He doesn’t pull out, allowing the intimacy of the moment to stretch on. 

“My God.” You mumble, your throat feeling raw from screaming. 

Josh leans down to capture your lips with his, his tongue exploring your mouth lazily for a moment before he draws back. 

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I took so long.” 

“I would have waited even longer so long as I got to have you in the end.”

You pull him down to kiss him again. 

“You have me.”

♡︵‿♡︵‿♡‿︵♡‿︵♡

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[mauselet]

The Influencer - And All Is Not Fine

This story is for @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog, specifically The Influencer AU. Honestly, loving the blog so much. Huge thanks to Mod Bee for creating it and if you haven't already, go check out her blog.

Big thanks to WanderingDragon and Foolscap Hamato for helping with the fic.

Yes, the story is named after Entropy by Awkward Marina lyrics. Also, the anon/s that speak in orange and red, you got a reference in there cause it felt fitting.

Well, I really hope you enjoy this story!

Story includes: Ragatha X Pomni (but can be taken as platonically), angst, hurt/comfort

TW body horror, possessive behavior, possession, anxiety/panic attack, haphephobia/fear of being touched, questioning sanity, self-neglect

It's been a few weeks since Pomni found out that there were currently hundreds of voices inside Ragatha's head. Wow, and after all this time it didn't sound any less insane. From what Pomni understood, those voices were a virus that had infected the circus and latched onto Ragatha. They couldn't tell Caine about this because he'd likely kill them and Ragatha refused that. For some reason, she wanted to protect them which seemed even crazier than the whole situation. Some of them were friendly, sure, but others…

They attacked Jax, causing him to glitch out. They taunted Ragatha by plaguing her mind with the worst cases imaginable or calling her names or taking her too literally. They spawned that stupid paper shredder!

Oh, how Pomni hated that thing! The next time she sees one, she’ll personally smash it into pieces.

In short, the voices–all of them–stressed Ragatha out. And who could blame her? Sometimes even your own voice in your head can drive you mad. Pomni was actually impressed that the doll hadn’t reached her breaking point yet with these “anons”, as they called themselves, constantly following her.

Of course, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, they led to Ragatha temporarily losing her arm, but it was also thanks to them that she worked up the courage to speak to Pomni again. The thought of that always brought a smile to the jester’s face.

She was glad she could talk to her. Not only because Ragatha was nice and overall pleasant to be around, but it was also good for the ragdoll; especially now that she avoided the other circus performers to prevent another Jax fiasco or a possible infection.

The redhead’s absence was noticed by the others and to Pomni’s surprise, they were concerned about her. When Pomni first arrived, she was too busy spiraling down her anxiety to see it, but these trapped souls were friends. They cared about one another, even if it’d be in their own strange ways. So Pomni decided to reassure them all with daily reports on how Ragatha was doing.

And that was usually the extent of her interactions with them. Until Caine’s adventures forced her to stick around the whole day. Sometimes she was able to avoid them, however, there were times when she just couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately for her, adventures like these stacked over the course of the last few days, making it basically impossible for Pomni to check on Ragatha.

By the third or fourth day, Pomni was getting anxious. Throughout the adventure, her fingers were constantly convulsing while stuck in an unnatural position, her eyes turned into scribbles and her thoughts were as far away from the game as possible.

Ragatha must’ve been lonely. It’s been days since she’s interacted with anyone. Well…since she’s interacted with someone who meant no harm to her. Hopefully, she was alright…

Pomni suddenly jerked and snapped out of her thoughts as a gloved hand waved in front of her eyes. Her head shot up and she saw Kinger, Zooble and Gangle who announced to her that they found a way to replace her in today’s adventure and that she could go see Ragatha. If she had to be honest, she didn’t even know what the adventure was, but if she really wasn’t needed there…

She gave the three of them a quick smile and dashed to Ragatha’s room as fast as her short legs could carry her. As soon as she arrived and caught her breath, she rang the bell, waiting and…

Waiting.

Pomni felt a pit in her stomach. No, no, no. She shook her head. Everything’s fine, it’s just taking a bit. She rang again.

“R-Ragatha? It’s me, Pomni. A-are you in there?”

But she was still left waiting.

“Ragatha!” she raised her voice, yet still no response.

Oh God, three days… Three whole days with nothing but those voices. That must’ve been a nightmare for the doll and Pomni left her dealing with that alone. She left her again…

“I’m coming in!” she announced and reached for the doorknob. Her body froze as she held it, overwhelmed by worried thoughts, but also by a sense of déjà vu. She chuckled darkly at the memory of desperately wanting to know what was behind a door she shouldn’t go through and then opened.

A wave of relief washed over Pomni as she wasn’t instantly met with a glitching blob with a thousand glowing eyeballs. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room and her heart skipped a beat. Ragatha was there, sitting on her bed, sewing what appeared to be a suit. She was so focused on her work; maybe that's why she didn't register the bell. Pomni can't actually remember if she'd ever seen her this focused, but she looked surprisingly calm and, the jester had to admit, quite pretty. 

“Um…Ragatha?” the short woman started, walking over, “I'm sorry for barging in, I was just worried when you didn't answer.” But the ragdoll didn't respond; it was as if she didn’t even notice that Pomni was in the room talking to her.

Was she ignoring her? Was she mad? Did she…hate her? All of those thoughts sounded really ridiculous considering that this was Ragatha we were talking about. She doesn’t even allow herself to hate Jax, someone who’s caused more than enough harm to her, so there is no way she’d ever hate Pomni. Right…? Yet all those thoughts, as unrealistic as they might’ve seemed, felt like real possibilities to Pomni.

Somehow despite Jax putting her worst fear in her room, voices constantly screaming at her and hurting her and Caine forcing her into some of the most dangerous scenarios, not being there for her seemed like the biggest crime of them all.

Well, there was only one way to fix it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” Pomni let out, her steps slowing down, “I tried to check on you, but Caine’s adventures-”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” hearing that gentle voice, Pomni stopped. It was nice hearing her again, but something felt off. Sure, Ragatha occasionally used pet names like hun or sweetheart or even dear–oh geez, Pomni felt her cheeks heating up just thinking about it—that wasn’t the issue. She sounded more nonchalant than reassuring.

That didn’t matter right now. She wasn’t mad and that brought a smile to Pomni’s face. However, that didn’t last long as the doll finally raised her head.

Pomni’s face turned paler than usual if it was even possible, the pinwheel eyes shrunk, making them nearly invisible and her smile vanished as if it was never there.

Oh %$!#... Oh %$!#! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t… This couldn’t have been real!

She wasn’t just staring at a black void with two colorful eyes where Ragatha’s button was supposed to be. She wasn’t just witnessing her friend slowly abstracting in front of her! She wasn’t… She wasn’t…

This wasn’t real!

It… It was just one of the digital hallucinations that Caine mentioned. Yeah! That’s it! That’s…That’s what it…was…

But those eyes, that void, they were still there, no matter how much Pomni convinced herself about the opposite.

Caine. She had to go get Caine! As Ragatha said once, maybe there was still time to fix this.

“Stay here!” Pomni blurted out, “I’ll be right back!” She quickly turned around and ran to the door. She’s going to come back this time. This time she won’t let Ragatha suffer.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could grab it, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled back. One of the arms held her abdomen while the other was around her neck, not too tight yet still uncomfortable.

Feeling the fabric arms against her skin made her dizzy and itchy. She could sense every single pixel touching her, causing goosebumps to spread over her body.

“Where are you going, dear~?” she heard a whisper in her ear. It was Ragatha’s gentle, calming voice- No. It sounded different and…wrong. The voice was demanding and rough.

Pomni’s breath hitched. Was really something wrong with Ragatha? Or was her mind just messing with her? Well, the physical contact didn’t exactly help her think clearly as her body was plagued with this disgusting sensation.

“Don’t leave me~” For whatever reason, those words made the black-haired woman sick.

The doll’s embrace tightened. The touch of the fabric felt so venomous and paralyzing. It felt sickening. It felt wrong.

The jester wanted to escape that trap. She needed to escape it, yet no matter how much the voice in her head screamed at her body to move, it wouldn’t budge an inch. She was frozen in such a predicament with nothing but her racing heart, uneven breath, and voice stuck in her throat.

She attempted to take a deep breath, only to leave herself coughing.

“Are you alright, dear?” That voice again. It made shivers run down Pomni’s spine.

She sucked in another breath and let out a very weak and broken “Ragatha”. She repeated this a few times until she made a sensible sentence: “Ragatha… Please, let go…”

“Let go?” the doll wondered innocently, “why would I do that?”

“Please…” the jester mouthed.

“It’s not like I want to hurt you.” The grip tightened even more. “I would never hurt you. I would never-” The taller woman went silent. She felt the pale jester in her arms trembling and her heart dropped.

“Pomni…” Ragatha let out softly and her embrace loosened, “y-you’re shaking…” Rather than talking to Pomni, however, she seemed to have told it to herself. Reminding it to herself as if just physically feeling it wasn't enough to make it sink in. 

Even some of the voices were yelling at her to let go while the others objected. Was it the good or bad ones? What even made them good or bad? Were there even any bad voices? Were there even any good voices?

The voices that objected weren’t yelling, but whispering yet they were somehow much louder than the yells.

“Don’t listen to them–” “You can’t let go–” “You can–!” “She’ll find Caine and tell him about us–” “She wouldn’t–” “It’s too great of a risk–!” “If Caine finds out about us, we’ll be–” “What would happen to Rags–?”

“Ragatha, don’t you care about us? Don’t you care about what happens to you?!”

She flinched, instinctively tensing her hold on Pomni. In no way did she help the situation, with the jester’s body convulsing out of control.

“What is it, dolly? Are we too much for you to handle? Are we too loud? Can you even tell the difference between us and your own thoughts? Is there even a difference at this point?”

Oh God, her knees felt weak, her head was spinning, and tears filled her eye. She felt like she was about to collapse at any moment, but there was something forcing her to stand. Something kept her body like this against her will despite her exhaustion.

“Oh, dollface, do you feel the abstraction crawling under your skin? Or well, fabric? Did we do it? Did we f̴i̷n̴a̵l̸l̴y̸ ̶b̷r̸e̶a̵k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̵?̸”

All the voices then started shouting over one another again. Ragatha couldn’t even make out what they were saying as it all blended into an incoherent mess. With so much noise in her head, she wanted to join them. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs; let out all her frustration not just with the voices, but with her whole body. It would be a beautiful relief, but even that was a luxury. Her body wouldn’t let her. They wouldn’t let her.

She’d swear that in the middle of all the noise she heard things that made her want to throw up. She hoped that it was just her imagination and her brain tried to give those noises some meaning, however… That would mean it was her own thoughts and that creeped her out even more. Strangely, some of those words weren’t anything bad, they were just…words. Yet they all sounded so disgusting. So wrong. Every last one of them.

Every last one…

Every last–

“Please…” One voice silenced all of them despite how weak and broken it was. No… No, it was loud and clear. It was…real.

It hit her like a truck. Everything that just happened in the span of a few minutes. How Pomni walked into the room, apologizing. How terrified the jester was when she saw her. How she stopped her when she tried to leave. How she was holding her this whole time despite the pain she was clearly causing Pomni.

Ragatha jumped back, letting go of the jester, allowing her to collapse to her knees. The small woman was sitting there, swinging back and forth, hyperventilating. She reached her hands to her arms as if to brace herself, but she didn’t touch. Instead, she grabbed her hat and pulled, her eyes shut. The bells one would associate with joy and fun now sounded distorted to both of the performers. The bells were… unnerving.

“Oh my gosh…” Ragatha let out as it all sank in. She covered her mouth and a tear ran down her face as she stared down at the black-haired woman. Her heart was breaking at the sight. “Oh my gosh…”

She did this… No, no, no. The voices did. Right…? She…She wasn’t in control, was she?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, although, she wasn’t sure if Pomni could even hear her, “I-I lost control of them.” She cried more. “I messed up. Ragatha, you idiot… You %$!# idiot! You scared her. You hurt her! Why would I…? I would never-”

She felt tears rolling down her right cheek too, but that wasn’t possible. She wiped the tears with her hand and when she looked at it, her fingertips were covered by dark liquid.

Her heart stopped, realizing what that was. The dark void was leaking. The voices were right…

The bells on Pomni’s head rang again, causing Ragatha to snap out of those thoughts. There was something more important she had to do than pity herself. Her emotions could wait. Her abstraction could wait! She didn’t matter right now. She didn’t matter at all! Pomni did.

Despite her own breakdown, she rushed over to the jester, kneeling in front of her. She was in tears, barely thinking straight, potentially on the verge of abstracting, but Pomni mattered more.

Ragatha reached her hand towards the pale woman but flinched when she realized it wasn’t the brightest idea considering what caused this in the first place. She instead laid her hands on her own knees so Pomni could see them.

“Hey, Pomni?” she spoke up, her voice trembling. That sure was reassuring…

C’mon, Ragatha! Get a hold of yourself! Pomni needs you! Don’t freak her out.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her yarn, brushing it over her right eye to hide it. She curled her hands into fists and calmed her breath before speaking.

“Pomni, hun?” She was doing her best to keep her voice stable this time. “Look at me, please. Hun, look at me.” Pomni cringed, her body still going back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s just me. The real me, I promise,” Ragatha continued, “I just need you to look at me.” The big eyes slowly opened, showing scribbles, and looked up. “That’s it.” Ragatha smiled at her brightly. “Good job, sweetheart. Good job.”

The smaller woman was still trembling, still pulling at her hat, still swinging back and forth, still not controlling her breath. 

“Alright, dear-”

Pomni flinched at that, tears streaming down her face as she looked away. 

“O-okay! Okay,” Ragatha said in an unintentional panic. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I won't call you that again, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Still in tears, the jester stopped pulling at her hat, yet the bells kept ringing. Each sob was accompanied by a happy metallic chime as her body jerked. Ragatha had to admit that it made her wails quite adorable and each little jingle seemingly made a voice in her head disappear each time. But she wished more than anything that they'd stop.

“Pomni?” Ragatha knew she had to keep trying. “Hey, Pompom, hun… Can you look at me again?”

The smaller woman didn't seem to listen. She then choked on her sobs as they didn't mix well with her rapid breathing. Seeing this, some of the voices panicked, but Ragatha had to stay calm. She instinctively lifted her hand from her knee, however, thankfully stopped herself from touching Pomni. 

“Please?” the ragdoll’s soothing voice asked and Pomni couldn't deny it. The black-haired woman turned to her, scribbles in her bloodshot eyes. 

“Good job.” A smile of relief and reassurance formed on Ragatha's face. “Now, honey, you're having another episode, but that's okay. It's okay, I'll help you through it. I’m not going anywhere. We'll get through it  together, okay?”

Pomni nodded slowly, choking on her sobs again. 

“I need you to breathe with me,” Ragatha told her, “four seconds in, hold and six out. Four, hold, six.” She waited for Pomni to nod again before she took a deep breath that the jester immediately followed, yet struggling. They held their breath, but sniffles broke them. Then they exhaled together. 

“Now, let's try again.”

And as Ragatha said, they did. Breathing was much easier for Pomni this time around. 

“You're doing great,” the redhead praised her, “are you able to go on your own?” She watched as Pomni nodded and took another deep breath with her eyes shut. “Good, keep going. You’re safe, hun. Focus on me, okay?”

When Pomni opened her eyes again, they were back to their pinwheel look. Ragatha also noticed that she stopped shaking and the swinging slowed down. Her smile widened in relief.

She kept talking to Pomni while the jester calmed her breath. They were like this for a few more minutes until…

“R-Ragatha…?” Pomni finally spoke up and the ragdoll gasped quietly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Ragatha greeted her, “you feeling any better?”

“A little…” Pomni’s voice was still pretty weak, but she had much more to say. She held her hands together, rubbing her thumb with the other. “But I should be the one asking you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ragatha shook her head. “I just helped you through a panic attack-”

“And I’m forever grateful for that,” the jester blurted out, “but, Ragatha… You’re on the verge of abstracting!” They both flinched at the yell and Ragatha covered the black void on her face despite being hidden behind the hair. “And it’s all because of me.” Pomni shifted her eyes away. “Because I left you when you needed me. Again!”

“Pomni, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“‘Can’t blame yourself?’ You’re the one to talk,” the pale woman scuffed. She then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you have all the right to call me out.”

“Did it happen because of… them?” Pomni glanced at the taller woman, her eyes narrowing at the last word.

“I think so,” Ragatha replied and noticed Pomni inhaling to speak, but she quickly interrupted her, “that’s why you can’t tell Caine.”

“But, Rag-”

“You promised.”

“And you said you wanted this to stop,” Pomni reminded her, raising her voice, “I understand you don’t want them to die, but think about what they’re doing to you. Stress? Mental breakdowns? Abstraction?!” The doll lowered her head in shame. “Rags, you’re suffering and I can’t bear to watch. You care about the people around you and I appreciate that, but for once in this digital life think about yourself first.”

“No need to worry, darling,” Ragatha said calmly, looking up with a bright smile as if the topic was just a casual small talk, “the anons are actually what keeps me from abstracting, otherwise I’d be in the cellar by now.” Pomni cringed at every word due to how cheerfully the doll said them. “We’re also really, really sorry for touching you. We were so afraid of you telling Caine that we had to stop you somehow. Sorry we hurt you.”

Pomni was just staring at her, an unsure expression painted on her face. This all felt wrong and Ragatha’s next words didn’t ease that feeling.

“I’m fine, really. I’m sure that I can join in on the adventures again soon.”

No, that wasn’t right. She just said she’s afraid of Caine finding out, why does she suddenly want to take part in his adventures? And that wasn’t the only thing off.

“What happened to staying in your room to prevent infecting people with the virus?” Pomni wondered, “don’t get me wrong, the others would be happy to see you and they’re definitely worried about you. Heck, Zooble, Gangle and Kinger helped me get out of an adventure to check up on you; it’s just…”

“You’ve been spending so much time with me and you’re not influenced,” Ragatha pointed out.

Well, Pomni couldn’t argue with that. There were still many other issues with this seemingly spontaneous idea, but the more she thought about them the less sense her reasoning as to why they were even issues made. It was as if her mind was getting blurrier the more she tried to use her brain. She must’ve been tired from her previous meltdown.

“I guess you have a point.” She let out a sigh and smiled at the woman softly, but then… Did Ragatha have that wide grin on her face before? That didn’t matter right now; she needed some rest.

“Look, I know I haven’t been here in a while, but I should really go into my room and take a nap,” she explained.

“Oh, no worries, d̶e̶a̸r̴,” Ragatha replied, “have a nice sleep.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.” Pomni stood up and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned back. “And I mean it, try thinking about yourself. It isn’t hard to care about you; me and at least three other people can agree on that.” Her smile widened as she opened the door. “And Ragatha? …I… Thank you for helping me through the attack, I really appreciate it. You’re a great friend.”

She then closed the door and stayed in the room. 

She originally planned on finding Caine the moment she was outside. She was well aware that Ragatha didn't want that, however, Pomni was willing to do anything to help her stop hurting. She didn't care if Ragatha hated her for it–she was sure she would–she just wanted her friend to be safe.

But as much as she wanted that, she couldn't bring her body to go through with it. It was as if it didn't obey her. 

“Don't leave me,” she remembered the doll's words. No, it wasn't a memory; it felt like someone just whispered in her ear. 

That's crazy. It was just her imagination. Nothing else. 

“Pomni, please. Don't leave,” Ragatha's voice begged her. It sounded so real. But there was no way Ragatha's whispers could reach her, right?

The more she thought about it, the more her mind was filled with white noise, static. And the longer that went on, the more that noise made sense to her as if it spoke to her. 

“I'm scared,” one noise was much louder. Ragatha's voice.

Pomni's not leaving her again.

She let go of the doorknob and turned around to see the ragdoll still sitting on her knees, showing Pomni her back. 

“Actually, can I stay here?” the jester asked, “I don't want you to be alone and…I'd also feel more comfortable with some company.”

“Why of course,” the doll replied, the huge grin remaining on her face. She got up and headed over to her bed. Reaching into her hair, she pulled out her bow and used it to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“You can take a nap in my bed,” she said. 

“Oh.” Pomni blushed a little, not only at the offer but also due to the redhead’s sudden hairdo change. Whatever it was, it had some strong influence on Pomni. "Thanks."

Once at her bed, Ragatha picked up the suit she was working on when Pomni first walked in. It was nearly done. It truly was clothing worthy of someone as powerful as her; someone with influence stronger than the ringmaster himself.

[gaybitchfx]

-🍓 Character(s): Douma

-🍓 Type of reader: M!Reader

-🍓 Category: NSFW

-🍓 Warning(s): possessive behavior, manipulative love & Stockholm Syndrome

-🍓 Edited: ❌

Your relationship with Douma was a healthy one from the very beginning. You both loved each other equally and showed it in many ways let it be by touch, gifts, etc... That changed for the worst.

Douma began to love you far too much to where he’d put a tracker in your phone so he could know where you were at all times.

If you came home even a few minutes late you’d get an ear full and sometimes a couple of slaps.

He’d comfort you right after, saying how he didn’t mean it and that he was just looking out for you. Being so stupid, you forgave him all because you loved him. How stupid you were. Before you knew it you were kept in the house not being able to leave.

“I’m only doing this because I love you okay?” Douma would say as he kissed your tear-stained cheeks and held your shaking hand which was caused by a recent panic attack. “I just want you to continue loving me no matter what, my love.” That ‘love’ was far gone. But you did as he asked so he wouldn’t hurt you. A month had passed and you decided to go with your plan to leave this cursed place. It was late at night and Douma was of course, asleep.

You knew where the extra key was and decided to try and use that to leave through the front door. What a silly move. When you made your way to the door your hands were shaking, the thought of freedom being on the tip of your tongue as you fiddled with the key. That was until you felt someone’s hand gently caress the back of your head before yanking your hair. A scream left your mouth as Douma dragged you, his grip on your hair tight and firm as he lead you to the bathroom. Surprisingly, the bathtub was already filled with water almost like he knew you were going to try and escape.

Try and leave him. As you cried for Douma to let you go that fell on deaf ears and before you knew it your head was forced under the water. You would kick and scratch, your screams muffled by the water. You could barely make out Douma’s face from under the water but just by a glimpse of his eyes, he had the intent to kill you. If you’re dead he wouldn’t have to worry about you trying to leave him. Douma wrapped his hands around your neck which was still submerged under the water till your flailing began to become weaker.

That’s when he pulled you back up. Letting out a gasp you instantly began crying and there Douma was, comforting you. “Don’t cry my sweet, I’m here~ Do you promise to only stay by me?” Douma pressed small kisses on the back of your neck as you nodded your head. “Yes..” You crooked out, your voice horsed. Since that day, you were chained by the leg to a metal pole that allowed you to go to places you needed to go to.

Everything was babyproofed from the number of times you’ve tried hurting yourself, but that didn’t last long. After being like this for so long this became a normal thing for Douma and especially you. To you this was love. Douma depended on you, but not as much as you depended on him. Always greeting him when he’d come home, sitting with him by the table, and eating together.

Do things ‘normal’ couples did. “I love you so much.” You hummed as you hugged Douma, he held you close with a smile present on his lips.

“I love you more.” He said and kissed your forehead, your tired eyes staring back into him with no light shining in them like the first time you two met. Your eyes used to be filled with life, but now they resembled the dead eyes of a fish. One of your friends had called the police after not seeing you for such a long time. They were concerned and had a feeling Douma had something to do with this. Officer Tengen had brought backup just in case. When they were finally inside everything was a mess. Trash bags were piled up onto each other in corners, the whole house was barely illuminated with light.

Their attention was brought to the sound of chains dragging against the floor. Tengen signaled the other officers to have their guns drawn as they slowly moved towards the room. “Freeze!!” Tengen would shout as he pointed his gun into the room only to see you on the floor and Douma brushing your hair.

In a matter of seconds, everyone knew what was going on and instantly put Douma in cuffs, him screaming profanity after profanity as he was dragged away from you. You on the other hand were taken for treatment both physically and mentally. You never stopped screaming for Douma on the way to the hospital till you tired yourself out.

By the time you arrived at the hospital, you didn’t do anything. Only asking for Douma and Douma only. When they told you he wouldn’t be around you anymore you lost it. Grabbing everything in sight and throwing it at the officers, doctors, and nurses. Even trying to hurt yourself to the point they had to tie you to the bed. When your friends came to see you you nearly hurt one of them, the same goes for your parents. That was not the person they knew before.

The damage has already been done, there’s nothing they could do besides pray.

Pray for your sanity and mental well-being to go back to how it originally was.

[heykoonsy]

Word Count:  2.8k+

Pairing: Husk x Angel Dust (HuskerDust/AngelHusk), slight Angel Dust x OC

Summary: “Give him everything but your ass.” Angel Dust was tasked with one job: convince the investor to subsidize Valentino’s agency. Angel was more of a closer to Valentino, enticing the wealthier of his associates into funding projects for him. However, this latest pitch didn’t go as planned and Angel’s hubris prevented him from seeing the potential drawbacks of a one night stand with someone Valentino marked. In this slow burn love story, Angel must confront the worst parts of himself if he is going to win back his career.

Content Warnings: Rated 18+ for foul language, graphic depictions of a panic attack

Author's Note: Whoops! I forgot to post the second part! This chapter proceeds one of my favorite scenes in this whole series. Enjoy, I'll post the next chapter next week.

Angel Dust turned over in bed, his attempts at ignoring his phone proving difficult if not impossible. He’d been lying there all morning, tossing and turning and fighting the urge to vomit. Angel sat up for a moment, grabbing his phone and opening it. He went to his chat with Cherri, which he’d been opening up every few minutes despite the fact that he knew he hadn’t gotten a response yet. 

He was thinking with a clear head now–well, as clear as his head could be after a night of booze and miscellaneous pills. It seemed to throb in response to the memories of last night, so he rubbed his temple with his available hand. He read his texts to Cherri over and over again. 

Hey

About last night

I wanted to say that i’m sorry, it wasn’t right to ditch you

With everything going on these days i’ve been a fucking mess babe

He sighed, looking at the time stamp on each text. No response–and he knew he wouldn’t be receiving any any time soon. Not after how he acted. Fuck, he was lucky that Cherri tracked him down and got him home safe. Of course, he was too much of an ass last night to realize that. When she dropped him off at the door of the hotel, he’d chosen to thank her for her kindness by flipping her off and blaming her for his blue balls. 

He was despicable. 

He turned off his phone before setting it down on the nightstand by his bed. He sighed, his eyes going anywhere else. Like towards his disaster of a room. His pile system had reared its ugly head but Angel couldn’t muster up the energy to get out of bed. A clean room was overrated anyway, he found his things just fine. 

Angel brought his knees into his chest, hugging them as his eyes caught Fat Nuggets passed out on top of his dirty clothing pile by the door. By the looks of it, Angel had obscured his bed again. If he couldn’t bring himself to do laundry, the least he could do was take Fat Nuggets on a walk. He wasn’t completely useless. 

Angel rose and threw on some presentable clothing. Fat Nuggets woke up by the time he’d put his shoes on and was nudging his leg with his snout. Angel patted his head. 

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Fat Nuggets sprang into action, digging around the laundry piles for where his leash had been discarded. He brought it to Angel triumphantly, and waited patiently for Angel to put it on. 

Angel walked into the lobby with Fat Nuggets at his side. He looked over at the bar to see Husk cutting a bunch of fruit into slices. Just the smell of the citrus reminded him of all the lemon drops he did last night. Fat Nuggets pulled on his lead to go towards him, but Angel picked him up and took him outside.

Once outside, Angel breathed in some of the fresh air. He put Fat Nuggets down, and he seemed to huff at him. 

“Sorry Nugs, Daddy is feelin’ sick today,” he said softly. 

The two of them embarked on their walk together. Angel figured that he would go towards the park today since there were always food trucks parked alongside the street. His stomach gave a hearty rumble at the thought of a greasy hot dog–or better still–a set of tacos with loads of sour cream. Angel could barely contain his excitement so he picked up the pace. 

They arrived at the park in no time and Angel looked around to see which vendors he had the pleasure of choosing from today. The mini pancake truck, the mini donut truck…fuck yes, there she was–Torch’s Tacos–parked in plain view with no line. The sight almost brought a tear to his eye. He walked over quickly, wanting nothing more than to order his favorite hangover food. 

He stepped up to the truck and ordered quickly–and Torch, the owner–came out to pet Fat Nuggets as his employees made his tacos. In a few minutes, Angel sat down at a park bench and chowed the fuck down. While he ate, Torch came over and slapped a plastic dish that was full of fixin’s for Fat Nuggets. 

“On the house,” Torch said happily. “He’s adorable.”

Angel thanked him and Fat Nuggets started eating heartily. 

Once breakfast was over, Angel threw all the scraps in a nearby trash can. He wanted to eat more, but his hangover would only allow so much food to go in at once. Angel hoped that it would all stay down–he really didn’t want to repeat this cycle thirty minutes from now. Regardless, he stood and began walking around the park. Fat Nuggets oinked happily as they made their way through, sniffing anything that he came into contact with. 

Then, as they made their way out of the park and down the street, Angel felt a pang of nausea hit him out of nowhere. He felt his stomach begin to ache and his mouth began producing mass amounts of saliva. He swallowed, which only made it worse. He looked around towards several businesses–none of which were open. He started to think that a nearby alley would suffice, until he saw a cafe. 

Angel walked as calmly as he could towards the cafe and only when he walked inside and saw the sign for the restroom did he start running. Angel threw open the door and walked into the only stall and threw up everything he had eaten. Fat Nuggets paced at his legs, no doubt worried about him. 

“Daddy’s okay, Nugs,” Angel managed out before another wave of nausea hit. “Fuck me,” he said before he gagged again.

A few minutes later and everything Angel had eaten–as well as the alcohol that had settled at the bottom of his stomach–was gone. He went towards the sink and washed out his mouth. He looked at himself in the mirror. The mascara that he’d put on last night was smudged–the tears from his vomit-session staining his cheeks black. He grabbed a paper towel and began cleaning himself up. 

Angel made his way towards the door of the cafe quickly, not making eye contact with anyone within the small building. He’d done his best to clean up–but he still looked like shit. Now was not the time to meet with a fan or a colleague–that was for fucking sure. He stepped onto the sidewalk, taking in the fresh air again. 

“We better get home Nugs, before Daddy pukes again.” 

“Well, if it isn’t the Angel Dust,” a voice called from the door of the cafe. 

Angel looked over, and his eyes widened in shock. 

“Agony,” Angel said, nearly breathless.

“Long time no see,” Agony said, walking towards him. 

“Yeah, sorry for not keeping in touch after…” Angel trailed off. 

Agony let the silence hang in the air, and it seemed like he was waiting for Angel to say something. 

“Agony, I–

“I already know,” Agony’s eyes snapped over to Angel.

Angel knit his eyebrows together, “What do you mean?”

“I know why Valentino canceled Brut’s project,” he said, his shoulders tensing as he spoke. 

Angel Dust hesitated for a moment. He wanted to say something–anything–but the fact that Agony knew was sending his head in a spin.

“Do you know what it’s been like? For me?” Agony said, the hurt evident in his tone. “The work dried up after I was let go–anything I get now is because of some friends in the industry.”

“Have you heard from–

“What do you care? Your career is doing just fine last time I checked, Mr. Best Male Performer. Congrats on the nomination by the way.”

Angel felt Fat Nuggets tug on his leash. “Agony, you have it all wrong.”

“What, you didn’t get me and Brut fired?”

Angel shifted his weight awkwardly. “It was Val, he–he was pissed that I–

“I don’t need your excuses,” Agony said. “Tezan told me everything.”

Angel clammed up, his eyes searching Agony’s. “I don’t know what he told you, but Tezan isn’t–

“This isn’t about him, Angel.” Agony said. “It’s about you.”

“I’m sorry that I got you fired,” Angel said, his voice higher than he wanted it to come out. 

“This isn’t about the job, Angel! All these months and you never checked on me to see if I was okay.”

Angel stood there as Agony lowered his head. 

“I didn’t just lose my job, I lost my friend,” Agony said after a few moments.

Angel took a step closer to him, and Agony recoiled. “I wanted to make things right, that’s why I–

“I don’t care,” Agony spat out. “Delete my number–if you even saved it in your phone in the first place.”

Angel watched as Agony walked away from him and the small crowd that was gathering around them as they fought in the street. Angel grabbed Fat Nuggets and took off running in the opposite direction. He ran as fast as he could–the wind stinging his eyes as he made his way towards the hotel. When he got there, he stopped just inside the door.

He breathed deeply, Fat Nuggets struggling to break free of his hold. Angel let him down and he scuffled towards the bar. 

“You good, kid?” Husk said from across the lobby. 

Angel heard the words echo in his head. He looked over at Husk, who was coming around the side of the bar towards him. His heavy breathing soon became gasps. 

“Kid?” Husk prompted, Fat Nuggets following him as he began walking over with more urgency. 

Angel brought his hands to his head, cupping his palms around his temples as he tried to will himself into calming down. His gasping turned into choked sobs in the blink of an eye and tears began streaming down his face. 

“Angel,” Husk said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Angel felt his touch, and his entire body jolted from the contact. He threw himself back, and Husk stepped closer. 

“Go away,” Angel’s voice strained against his sobs, his hands going to the floor to pick up Fat Nuggets. Once he gathered him in his hands, Angel started towards the stairs–to his room. 

But Husk grabbed his arm, stopping his progress towards his place of solitude. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Angel spat out quickly and tore his hand away. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

Angel didn’t spare him another glance before he ran away. He sprinted to his room, setting Fat Nuggets down on his bed as he paced. He tripped over laundry piles as he walked around his room–trying to calm himself down. But instead of quieter, his sobs became louder, echoing in his bedroom. He covered his mouth, feeling his tears stream down them as well. 

All he could think about was his exchange with Agony. The guilt and shame washed over him all over again in an instant. All those weeks that Angel had been agonizing over his role in getting Agony fired he hadn’t reached out once. He hadn’t even thought about it. He just resigned himself to believing that Agony wouldn’t want to hear from him. 

Then, his mind went to Tezan.

Not only did he manage to figure out that Spitzers was opening his own agency–he’d somehow caught on that Angel was arranging for Brut and Agony to join him. In one foul swoop, Tezan had managed to destroy everything. 

Angel wiped at his eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming, but they wouldn’t subside. But without looking where he was going, Angel tripped on a pile of laundry and fell forward. He picked himself up, planting his ass on the floor with his bed to his back. He pulled his knees into himself and cried harder. 

Angel barely heard the door open, and when he looked up he saw Husk. 

“Would you just go?” Angel asked him, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. 

“No,” Husk said. 

Angel hid his face in his arms, the urge to hide himself coming as easily as his tears. 

Husk didn’t say anything–he simply came and sat down next to Angel. At first, the intrusion was unwelcome. Angel wanted to push him towards the door until he was able to slam it in his face. But all he could do was cry. 

“Please leave,” Angel begged.

“Take some deep breaths,” Husk said quietly. 

Angel clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to make any loud noises. He breathed in through his nose slowly and when he exhaled, another sob came out.

“Get outta my room!”

“Would you just let me sit with ya!?”

Angel looked at Husk, and threw his fuzzy vision he made out Husk’s concerned expression. He blinked and several tears fell away onto his cheeks. Angel hid his face again, this time, doing as Husk asked and started to focus on breathing. He struggled to get some air around his sobs–but he did well enough. He stuttered on a few inhales, but after a while, even his tears stopped. 

He followed his breaths in and out, feeling his lungs swell and deflate. The sensation soothed him. When it looked like he was through the worst of it, he looked over at Husk. He was sitting with one leg crossed and the other bent looking at his hands as they lay on his lap. He didn’t look over at Angel once, which he supposed he should be grateful for. Angel looked and felt like a mess–Husk didn’t need to see that. 

“I’m fine now,” Angel sniffed. 

Husk didn’t look at him, instead choosing to close his hand into a fist.

“I’m serious, you don’t need to be here.”

This time, Husk did look over at him–and his face seemed tired. 

“What?”

“You’ve been off for a while now,” Husk said, his eyes finding the piles of laundry in front of them. 

Angel tried to think back to his interactions with Husk. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

It seemed that Husk wasn’t willing to elaborate either, because he shrugged.

“I’m good,” Angel lied, “Really, I don’t need you here.”

“You’re in the pits, ain’t ya?” Husk looked at him dead in the eyes.

Angel clammed up, he looked away from him, suddenly not to keen on eye contact.

“I don’t care if you tell me or not, but I’m gonna sit with ya until you get it figured out.”

“Then you’re gonna be sittin’ for a while,” Angel remarked bitterly. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Husk didn’t say anything after that, just continued to sit with Angel. To be honest, it was making him kind of uncomfortable. He wanted to fill the silence–no–he needed to. 

“Things haven’t been goin’ that great for me, not really.” Angel said after a long while. 

Husk remained quiet. 

“I was working on a project with some real talent a few months ago. Valentino wanted me to charm an investor so we could fund advertising, but I got too close and Valentino blacklisted him.” Angel recounted. “Valentino dropped the project and everyone lost their jobs. He then made me whore myself out to other investors.”

Husk listened without batting an eye.

“After Valentino started working with him, I didn’t feel safe at work so I got rid of him the only way I knew how.”

Husk nodded his head, no doubt recalling the situation. He’d given him the advice that prevented Tezan from bothering him too much at work.

“I recorded him badmouthing Valentino–so he blacklisted him too,” Angel sighed. “But he’s held a grudge, and I guess I can’t blame him.”

Husk waited for Angel to continue.

“The first investor? I ran into him and he was doing perfectly fine despite the blacklist–so I told him that he should open his own agency. I even steered him towards that talented director that Valentino fired.”

Angel smiled bitterly as he recalled the conversation with Spitzers. He was so happy that he might actually be able to fix his mistake from before by giving Brut and Agony work again. But…

“The other investor caught on to my plan I guess and met with my co-star, Agony. He told him that I was the reason the project got dropped. He said he couldn’t find work, and…” Angel trailed off. 

Husk waited patiently for him to continue, but Angel wasn’t sure that he could. He finally realized what Agony was saying to him in front of the cafe. 

“He told me he was in the pits–and he didn’t have me there to sit with him,” Angel said, his eyes stinging with tears again. He hid his face again, letting his tears fall quietly. Then, he felt Husk’s hand on his back. He didn’t jolt this time, or try to shake him off. Instead, he allowed Husk’s gentle touch to soothe him.

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[asdpawprint]

Service Dog at College: My Experience

It's been over a year now since I graduated, and I finally feel far enough removed to look back on the experience without instantly triggering a panic attack, so here's how my experience of going to college with my service dog went!

Max attended classes with me for 3 semesters in total. He was still "in training" for about half of his 1st semester, then considered "fully trained" the rest of the time. He did not live in the dorms with me because I didn't live in the dorms.

In preparation for taking him to class for the first time, we did a lot of training outings on campus over the summer. We primarily practiced 2 hour settles and leading me to exits. I also contacted my college's disability services to notify them that I would have my service dog with me. Luckily, they seemed to already understand the laws around service dogs, so it wasn't an issue.

Actually going to class usually went well. My professors and even fellow students were respectful. I only got asked to pet him a handful of times. He was only stepped on once by accident, even though it was sometimes hard to find a seat in class where he could lay out of the way. I preferred the computer lab classrooms because I could sit anywhere and always have enough room under the desk.

I had 1 class in a room where he had to lay in the way, and the only place he could fit at all was far from both exits. And the professor frequently went on tangents about triggering topics. So I was often stuck there during flashbacks or dissociative episodes. That sucked.

Sometimes professors would forget to give us the 15 minute break halfway through a 3 hour class. Technically, I could leave anyway, but I'd miss instruction. So Max got used to doing almost 3 hour settles. He'd get restless in the last 20 minutes or so, but never disruptive.

All the classrooms I was in had carpet, so I didn't bother bringing a mat for Max to lay on. If the floors had been hard, I would've brought one for his comfort. I offered him water and a potty break outside before and after every class, and during 15 minute breaks if we had them. I gave him treats throughout his work time, but we were never out long enough to feed a meal away from home.

The worst experience we had was graduation.

Before the ceremony was fine: security didn't seem to know what to do with us, so they just let us in without going through the metal detector. Someone from disability services guided me through the tables and forms I had to fill out. They let me sit off to the side for the beginning of the ceremony instead of walking through the miserable crowd of overstimulation (a line of previous graduates on either side) with my peers, and let me have a chair on the outside edge for the ceremony itself.

Then things started going wrong:

I didn't know ahead of time that the floor would be concrete, so I didn't have a mat for Max. He was very uncomfortable and shifted around a lot.

I couldn't wear a treat pouch or access my pockets under the gown, so Max had to work in an extremely overwhelming situation for hours with almost no rewards.

The people with cameras seemed to actively avoid me. I noticed several times that they'd do an overview of the crowd, then stop immediately before my row, then start again immediately past us. That was weird.

The guy telling each row when to start going towards the stage stepped on Max after staring at him multiple times. Then rushed us towards the stage before I could get any treats out of Max's vest pockets. That was very upsetting.

The stairs up to the stage were metal and creaky and had lots of gaps, but luckily Max is well socialized to weird stairs and walked up just fine.

The worst part of all was the end of the ceremony. They invited the whole entire audience to crowd into the arena we were sitting in to "collect their graduate." Luckily, Max perceived it as "So many new friends! How will I ever say hi to them all!" But I was completely out of it. By some miracle, my Dad was among the first into the arena and was able to lead me out. It took over a week for me to recover. I ended up sending an email to disability services suggesting that they should provide options to exit early because that situation easily could've been dangerous.

To summarize, my overall experience with bringing my service dog to college went well (everything else about college was horrible, but they did well with the service dog specifically), but graduation was a disaster.

[shushthisaintmytumbla]

I guess its the Summer Solstice so here we are again! 6/21/23

Wow I knew I neglected my last pot but here we are back even later than the last one! Like i say everytime it is wild to see how much has changed in my life the past couple of years. Ups down and everything in between I come back to this spot everytime and see the growth I’ve made. All by myself. All for myself. I cant always see it but moments where I read back on the past I am brought right back to those moments and never lose sight of how I felt in the past. 

I keep seeing on TikTok that today is a Summer Solstice meaning it is a great opportunity for manifestations so lets try this out why not! I guess I’ll start by giving a quick synopsyis of my life from the past 10 months or however long (wow sorry I abandoned this for that long!!!!)

Lets start with Work. I am still at the same OI job and feel like I have grown sooo much. I cant say im perfect at my job, but I know I have made a shit load of progress that i’m very proud of. I shifted off of working with my mngr which has made the biggest impact on my happiness at the job. I was going from having weekly panic attacks to not even having to review a single email anymore. I am really proud of myself for treading through the mud and getting to the point where I am at now. Now for the manifestation segment. I am going to get a promotion soon. This SUMMER! I FEEL IT. I am such a hard worker and really have gained the experience to move up in the company. I am confident it will happen in the next couple months. I cant wait to come back here and tell you all about it. It will be my first real promotion at a job which is something that I’ve really wanted to achieve since I havent gotten to this point at any of my previous jobs. You got this Case. 

Now for relationships. Tricky subject and yep you guessed it D is still around. I have tested a coupe other relationships with E and A and C... but somehow D makes it through the motions of every single season. I do want to touch on E for a sec. I have grown to build an amazing relationship with him, but I havent seen him for a few weeks and I feel like the relationship is starting to fade. Im sick of getting 100% and then a week later not even 1%. I am fully aware it has nothing to do with me and more so his own struggles, but I do need to realize at the end of the day that its ok to want more from someone and he cant give me what I need as much as hes shown me how I can be treated in a healthy way. He’s the boy Ive always dreamt of how someone can treat/care for you, but this story just isnt ours at this point in time. Who knows what the future holds. Now D. Oh boy. As we all know its been a fucking roller coaster. I have felt the highest of highs w him and the lowest of lows. I do hold love for him (but not so sure ive ever been in love... idk what that even is lmao). We’ve gotten to a point where I feel like I have been holding my power for quite some time now. I don’t have the same anxieties as I had for him in the past and i don’t prioritize him over others. We’ve tried not speaking (jan 2023) for a couple weeks and ultimately he just came back and I allowed it. I cant cut him out of it killed me. It’s so fucking hard. I am working on figuring out his place in my life and how we can carry on without hurt, but I feel like I am slowy falling back in the trap/cycle. We had a really nice day together the other weekend and I felt those anxious attachment feelings creeping in... I need to remember the things that have happened and try to prepare for the worst, but is it crazy to say that what if we are meant for each other? The other day I was able to imagine being in a relationship with him and it shocked me how I felt so good the whole day. Idk prob the worst thought ever but.. idk.. why are we magents to each other? Lastly I wanna touch on friendships and new york life. My friends here are still the same (but Karina now lives in Miami) and I love them so much, but I’ve been feeling myself longing for my relationships in LA. There are many weekends where my friends here are out of town and I feel left alone many times. In LA I would have the comfort of my family when friends arent around, but theyre 100s of miles away from me. I really miss them so fucking much it hurts. I think the longer I am away the more and more I realize how special my family is. I especially feel bad being away from my mom. She asks me nearly everytime we talk when I’ll come back and little does she know I’ve been toying with the idea of returning once my lease is up. If not that I think I have 1 year left in me. It still shocks me to say it and feel confident in that, but I really miss my family. Thats truly the only thing pulling me back bc I love this city and who I have become here so damn much. Im not putting too much pressure on the decision as I still have 10 months on my lease, but it is in the back of my mind. I feel like I’ll lead myself to the right choice soon though. So much would change though. I told D the other day about the idea and he said he would be so sad which kinda surprised me. It would be the end for us if I did move back which im not sure is a good or bad thing. Sometimes I tell myself the love of my life is not here and I wont meet them till I move back lol. Im not sure where the future is gonna bring me, but im confident in myself to do what is right for me. Leaving my friends here would also be horrible, but at the end of the day if they are the friendships I believe them to be, we will still be as close as ever and planes exist!! I guess thats kinda it for now. But this is still the start to an amazing summer with so much fun in store I can feel it!!! I have a trip to the shore coming up next weekend and then im going back home for my bday end of july - aug. Later in the summer I am going to portugal with my family!!! and something BIIGGGG is gonna happen in the fam :o Cant write it in words here till it happens. Until then, I love you. Im proud of you. and life is always working out in my favor. <3  Love,

C

[dzpenumbra]

2/9/23

I'm just gonna say it. It is difficult to add a Turing test for making a Tumblr account? Is it complicated? Does it cost too much money or something? Or have these bots just gotten smart enough to bypass them? The bot accounts on this site are just like... absolutely insane. At least they have been the past few months, I have no idea how long this flood has been a thing, I've only been here since like... August, I think?

I'll be honest, it's not a good look. Like... I swear, if Tumblr had an answer for this? They'd be in really good shape. This is a really cool atmosphere, I wish I had given it a chance sooner. But the amount of bots creeping around reminds me of that scene in the last Matrix movie (the last "real" one, sorry Lana, I really do appreciate the concepts behind what you were trying to do, but even your sibling tapped out on it, and I have to side with them, unfortunately) - let me clarify, in Matrix Revolutions, when Neo is in the City and all those bug robots are swarming around him. Like that. Just... off-putting. Like, what the fuck are they up to? I mean... they're up to something...

Today, I woke up at a somewhat decent hour. I checked the clock and confirmed 8 hours of sleep, which was awesome. Still catching up on sleep, as always... I decided to watch the Subnautica: Below Zero playthrough I've been following in bed to start the day. Depression and grief thing. I watched the same streamer do a playthrough of Project Zomboid when my dog died, so... I don't know, it's weirdly comforting, in a grim kinda way. Like my dog and cat are together now. And it reminds me of how my cat would cuddle with me and grieve with me. I'm very enraptured with the Subnautica playthrough, I love the series. I just cut an episode short to write this.

I was watching that, and lazily trying to navigate Bumble... with very little luck... I swear, these dating apps are just... it's pure depression fuel. In the 4 years that I've been on Bumble and Hinge, I have had 2 successful matches. One was a very brief text exchange through the app over the course of one night which just... evaporated... like I've had more personal conversations with cashiers before... and the other was an alcoholic woman with an STD who just separated from her husband, and just got out of a psych ward for reasons she didn't fully disclose... though who am I to judge, I've been to mental health facilities as well, but my intakes were voluntary so... I feel like my lesson to learn there was to... get more info... or run... still not 100% sure. This woman, a week after my dog died, brought the skeletons of 3 goats over to my home, made me watch Bo Burnham's special about how he was in the same type of isolation as me during the pandemic, gave me one of the worst panic attacks of my life... which I miraculously recovered from within less than 5 minutes... and then... she got freaked out and left. Called me the next day to do the whole, "it's not you, it's me..." And I - to myself, of course - wholeheartedly agreed with her. She needs help, first from herself, then from others. So... let's just say I haven't had a lot of luck with dating apps... XD

My morning was disrupted by the neighbors above running what sounded like... I mean, I guess it was a vacuum? Or maybe a steam cleaner? But it sounded like an industrial autoclave or something. Like, it sounded big and fuckin loud. And it was like... 10:30 AM? I was a little upset at first reaction, but made hay pretty quick. I went downstairs and decided that the best thing I could do was something with headphones on. I decided to pop on the cans and start polishing a new stone. I haven't done that in a long time. I had been using the tumbler for most of my stones and I'm still waiting on the new polish. (OH but I did get my new yoga pants today so yay!) So I took one of the stones my mom mailed to me from her new driveway that she found that she liked a lot and I worked that thing for 2 fucking hours. I really enjoy hand-faceting stones, it's hard work but I find it very rewarding. I wish I had some sort of rig to hold the stone stable so I could be a bit more deliberate and consistent with my angles, but this was a very organic shape so I just sorta went with it, abandoned symmetry entirely and I think it still came out really nice. And the stone was much softer than I was expecting. I think it's veins of calcite running through slate or something? I don't know, I'm not a geologist, I just like making pretty things prettier.

I did yoga. It was really quick today, just like 10-15 minutes. But it had that pose where you go from downward dog and lift one leg? And you're supposed to have your down leg rooted at your heel... but I can't get myself into downward dog and plant my heels. So I kept fumbling around with it and bringing my hands closer in to compensate... and then I was supposed to like... curl my leg above me and stack my hips, while keeping both hands planted. And I just... I could do it on my left side kinda I guess, with my right foot planted, but once we switched I was just falling over. It's frustrating. But, to be fair to myself, my flexibility has massively improved overall. Like I went to stretch my hamstrings earlier and I could touch the floor, which... well, it's been a while.

I took a shower and started to get ready for meeting up with my brother, nephew and sister-in-law for dinner. We went to a really nice chinese restaurant in town - I mean like... really fancy. Like way above any budget I'd be earning in my lifetime. And my socially oblivious ass just doesn't even mention the bill, which is honestly probably a godsend for them that they don't have to deal with the awkwardness of insisting on paying for the expensive meal they suggested. Idk, my brother works in the stock market and my sister in law is a doctor, and I'm a fucking artist who doesn't sell anything so... I'm just gonna kinda assume it's pretty obvious I won't be paying for dinner... XD

I got there early and parked in a parking garage I haven't parked in in... probably 15 years? They don't do paper tickets anymore, it was super confusing, I had no idea what to do. I fumbled around with the app thing on my phone but I didn't want to take my credit card out in a parking garage to put my number into it, because... I mean, there was a homeless guy yelling across the street at the entrance so like... yeah. So I just said fuck it. I walked down this main street, it's like... one of those streets in a city that is specifically for walking only, you know? And it's just lined with shops and shit. When I used to live in this city, my apartment was a block from the top of this street, and my community college was halfway down the street, so I spent a ton of time there. I mean, I remember sitting on a big rock on the street playing guitar for people, busking and making enough to buy coffee. That's a fond memory. I was so much more confident back then.

Now... I was super overwhelmed. I was amazed, and intrigued by everything. The buildings felt very tall around me, I recognized nearly none of the shops. I found some cool new age shops and a skate shop and I was interested in checking them out, but I didn't have time. I had to get the reservation for my brother and them, they were running late. On my way to the restaurant, a homeless guy asked me if I had a few dollars to spare. And to make it clear how long it has been since I have encountered this... they used to ask "do you have any spare change". And now, with inflation and fucking stupid costs of living, he asked "do you have some spare cash", and even a few dollars isn't enough for these poor people. Imagine how insulted and angry that guy would be if I gave him a 50 cents. I... kept staring wide-eyed at the buildings as I walked by and pretended I didn't hear him. I felt really bad. I did have some spare cash, but... I remembered that in my... inattentiveness... I keep forgetting to take the cash out of my wallet. I don't have anywhere else to put it, frankly. And inside my wallet, I have the cash that the administrator of the retreat I went to to detox off meds gave me for an illustration commission. It was like $400. I'm not fucking kidding. And I don't know what to do with this cash because like... who the fuck breaks a $100 in 2023? And I never leave my damn house. And I don't want to like... leave it in some random doom drawer in my house, it'll just disappear. I don't know what to do with it, honest. So like... I just have it in my wallet. And I'm walking by this guy and going, "I know I have cash, but I also know if that fucker sees that I have over $400 and a pair of AirPods on me, he's taking all of it or I'm getting stabbed." And, to top it off, I'm fucking alone. So... yeah, I was super fucking anxious. And I think rightfully so. It went fine, obviously, but like... that shook me a bit.

I should really just get rid of that cash, I guess I can go to my bank? And see if I can deposit it somehow? It's not like I can feed it into an ATM or something. I'm so fucking dumb with this stuff, I swear, no one taught me any of this. It's super embarrassing. So yeah, maybe I'd be less panicky if I didn't have that cash on me.

Dinner was great. Great to see my nephew, a riot as always. Good catching up and chilling. We did this thing at the restaurant where the chef just picked what we were going to eat and they just brought a bunch of courses out for us. All vegetarian, because my brother has been vegetarian since... I'm gonna venture to say since Clinton was in office. Which was actually cool with me, because I don't like fish - never ate it my entire life, never got a taste for it so it's super overwhelming to my senses now - and I don't really like beef either. Just pork and chicken for me, usually just chicken, if I'm being honest. The food was a big adventure of new flavors, things I'd probably never order off a menu myself. So, it was a big wave of new experiences today.

I was super overwhelmed at the beginning of dinner, and super drowsy because the sun was going down. That's been happening a lot lately. But I bounced back after getting a pot of Jasmine tea in me.

I noticed, in reflection after the fact, that I talk very openly and frequently about my mental health. And I'm starting to think that might not be a good thing. I know it's habit, I mean... how could it not be? Like... since about... 2018? The vast majority of my social interactions have been revolving around mental health. And by vast majority, I mean like.. 80-90% of my conversations, no exaggeration. When that is your life, when every conversation is like a therapy session (or actually is a therapy session), you really are forced to get comfortable with sharing. Like... if you go to group therapy and never speak up, you're just cheating yourself. So, powering through those reflexes and getting comfortable with talking about my mental health has actually... tipped into the realm of maybe being awkward for people.

Like... I'm talking to my sister-in-law about how my PTSD makes it hard for me to open up to a doctor in only 15 minutes, like I start freezing and stumbling over my words on simple questions and shit, and how I can only imagine how hard it makes their job to try to get all the information and diagnose and set up treatment and everything in 15 fucking minutes! Something is just going horribly wrong there. But like... I'm just hoping I'm not making things awkward. I really don't even notice it anymore, like... the way I spoke to them, the way I speak to my therapist and the way I speak here are all like... basically identical. It's just... my thoughts. My pure thoughts. I still have some boundaries, I mean it's not like they need to know about my sexual habits or how my hemorrhoids are doing, especially at a dinner table... But I'm afraid it might be awkward for them to talk about mental health stuff. I don't know, it's hard to tell. Maybe I should ask at some point?

After dinner, I went home. It was pretty warm today, I was getting bummed as I drove back that all the snow was melting. I was getting a big craving to go skate. And then I saw this dude slip on ice as he was walking back from a night class, when I drove by a local college. And he didn't know I saw him, I pretended I didn't see so he didn't feel embarrassed, not that he should be, it's like the lowest friction substance in the fucking world... And that planted a seed, which sprouted once I got to the rotary park where I skate. I scouted it out as I drove by - there was still snow. I pulled into my "car park", as my South African accented Siri likes to call it, which makes me smile. And as I walked in, I put my foot in a pile of snow by the door to see what the conditions were like. The snow was something close to the condition of like... a Slurpee, or something. If you're not American and don't know what that is, I don't know how to help you, like... a slushie? Like that kind of snow/ice. Like sleet that is cold enough to take solid form. That kind of snow is... not ideal because it's right on the edge of going to slush and certain ground/stone/pavement can retain heat... and the friction and pressure from skating can just turn that snow right into a slow, wet, soggy mess. But if the temperature is low enough... you get all the packability of wet snow, and that slush effect doesn't happen, and it also doesn't instantly turn to ice like it does on colder nights... And that's pretty much the conditions I got to work with tonight. So I stretched and I went skating.

But my dumb ass didn't bring my water bottle.

I tried skating the 2-stair, but that whole warm stone turning packed snow into slush thing? That was happening right where I was supposed to pop. Right at the lip of the first stair. It was just crap. But there was snow all over. I skated flatground for a while. My ollie was doing really well today, very consistent, good pop too. I was getting more comfortable and accurate with pop shuvits. I couldn't land a 3 shuv to save my life, unfortunately, when it's slushier it feels tougher to get that extra rotation because the snow has more give to it. At least that's what my head tells me. But I got a moving kickflip, maybe 2? I don't remember. Then I went to that section where I had a long downhill section of sidewalk to build speed and a natural kicker where it goes flat and then inclines down again, and I skated that for a bit until a dude came over and just... sat like 25 feet away from where that ramp was... I got paranoid and stopped skating it for a bit. Then I saw a smoke cloud come from there. And I'm sure it was just weed smoke, and it was probably some college kid who just couldn't smoke in his apartment and wanted to smoke somewhere chill, so he chose the park at like 9PM alone. I get it, I just... I was really anxious from earlier, and in general, so I just stopped skating that spot. I went over to the 4-stair, landed it at least 3 times. Went back to flat and started trying to get varial flip. I've never had it... perfectly consistent. Like... I've landed a few and I got pretty good at them, but I was never really consistent. There was a point where I could pull out kickflip and heelflip (on the right surfaces, at least) pretty much every try. Less so with heelflip, but still. Varial flip was never at that level. But today, I landed like 3 on flat not moving. I clearly remember a moment where it just clicked and I was like "oh, that's what it feels like!" And it felt as easy as a shuvit and I just popped, flicked, floated and the board just lined up right under my feet. And I came damn close to landing it moving, but I just couldn't stick it. I had to tap out.

What I kinda want to get off my chest - which is a fun way of putting it, once you see what I'm gonna talk about - was something I was freaking out about while skating. When I went to the doctor's office, they told me I have high blood pressure. Like... that's not heart rate, right? Like... pressure is different. And they were going to check it again to see if it was just anxiety, but like... they didn't. So that lack of resolution has just been sticking with me. And I got really anxious about it today. Like, I was getting chest pains and tightness and shit. And I've been getting that a lot from anxiety, so like... if I was having actual heart and pulmonary issues, I probably wouldn't notice, honestly. So I would just get a lot of invasive thoughts about like... exercising too hard, pushing myself too hard and then just fucking passing out and collapsing in the park. Like... I'm old now, or something. And I like... I'm not that old. I keep hearing people around my age, mid-30's, and they keep acting like they're in their fucking 60's or something. It's fucking weird, sorry. Like, my body aches too, guys. My back feels like garbage, my neck and posture are fucked, my hips have decided to secede and are staging regular protests against the rest of my body. I'm tired all the time, when I get hurt it takes a lot more to get me back up, I get tired quicker, shit like that. But I'm not fucking old. The people who consider me old don't consider themselves young and they're like 18. So... I'll consider calling myself old when I get to my mid 50s or something, thanks. But on the pulmonary front, I want to make sure I'm not being too cavalier and overlooking potential health issues that are avoidable, because I do have a history of blood-related issues (clots) and I do not have the best diet. I actually have a pretty poor diet. So... yeah, just wanna make sure that didn't creep up on me, and today was especially bad anxiety-wise in that department.

But, on the plus side, some kids saw me skating from their apartment... and they actually saw me land my first varial flip of the year and fucking cheered! I was listening to music in my headphones so I was just oblivious to the outside world, and they cheered so loud that I could hear them! It made me so happy. I wanted to say something about like... if there are any gods that give a fuck about them, I hope they throw some good stuff their way, but man, it's been a hot minute since I've heard anyone talk about religion publicly and that... feels a bit scary, honestly. Feels like people are just gonna come after you if you're polytheistic in 2023, you know? Weird shit, when we're supposed to be all evolved and progressive and whatever but yeah. I guess... I hope good fortune finds those two young men, for bringing excitement and joy to the heart of this grieving, depressed 36 year old snowskater.

Since I didn't have water, I ate a bunch of snow when I was out, but that wasn't nearly enough and I just came back early. And that was basically my night. I finished the night by polishing another one of those stones and watching another "episode" and a half of the Subnautica VoDs. Now I'm here.

Another cool idea I had, which I shared with my brother because I know he's really into languages... I decided to search Twitch today for streamers who speak French. I took 3 years of French in college, and I surprisingly still understand a lot. I could never speak it, but I can read it okay, just really slow. So I found someone who was playing League of Legends, a game I am pretty familiar with (but haven't played in like... 5 years?) and just... had that going in the background. And I got the Google Translate app thing for Chrome so I can just select a word that I don't know in the chat and it will real-time translate for me. I could follow a surprising amount, considering I haven't studied French since like... 2004. Wow, almost 20 years. Crazy. I'm pretty sure if I keep that up and just periodically try to like... figure out where they are in conversation? I'm sure I'll start picking up more and more. And maybe eventually I'll be able to chime in some short sentences every now and again. Who knows. I thought it was cool, something new to spice things up and to contribute to intellectual/skill development.

I am fucking tired. I need to go to bed. Byeeee.

[madchild-dennis]

I do not want to be EVERYTHING. I HAVE NO DESIRE TO BE EVERYTHING.

I just wanted to created clothes and movies. Do it in a life changing good way. Create jobs, create films that change lives, which even comedic films can do. I just want to solve problems or be creative in these desires NOT world domination nor strike fear through violence. BUT ALL in the same breath I understand what God is doing.

Up to a certain point I liked what God was doing. I could change Jamaica especially make it a sustainable paradise not just to tourists but it’s citizens. Which would help to retrain everyday Jamaicans that they don’t NEED to be EXTREMELY EXCEPTIONAL, wealthy, connected or such to be valued or deserving of good thing.

Then the slavery reparations. My mind blew with SO MANY ideas to smartly enrich the everyday Caribbean citizens (if they wanted it). I loved the idea and with the right team, system and more it would be amazing.

Then the problems or knowing I can’t do it all by myself or without people who can already see the vision weighed in me. Then God making it worst. The person God insist on making the closest to me is the person that CHOSE to cause the MOST PAIN. I might be happier there might be a way out. But to kill, plus knowing the effect it might have on me is a lot to add with ALL the other responsibilities, I’m starting to feel might be too much already. Then if that keeps him in line forever, what kind of FUCKING MARRIAGE IS THAT. Someone who is there only out of fear of death. But I can’t change because God won’t let me. Plus that now make him another job NOT a partner. Then seeing videos online or hearing people like RBG have amazing supportive partners. Partners doing what I’d need like a frigging hug. Or help me out a frigging panic attack or out of frustration with whatever.

No what I get is someone I have to monitor, which I WILL NOT DO. Someone to put on a leash demanding much while hoping for a fuck up to that be able to Ben free of him...kill him. Maybe even making it easier for him to fuck up. Like if he & his mom choose that life but I don’t trust them yet. I might demand he doesn’t speak to her but that she lives with us. A thing that isn’t centered on torture or cruelty but training and hopefully I can regain my trust. But all at the same time hoping for the fuck up to be truly finished.

Which in of itself is RIDICULOUS, yet still necessary. Like why the FUCK do I need to train my husband who is a fucking ADULT to be a husband. All while I WILL not let little thing stress me while I have SO MUCH BUGGER SHIT TO FRY.It’s like why have him in the 1st fucking place. But I also KNOW I can’t do it by myself/without a life partner (a good one).

Thennn if I kill him, anyone after will think I’d do them that. Someone brought that fear up to me when I mentioned it Tom someone who see me & like my wife potential. I also had to highlight how he spent 2+ year since doing what MANY OTHERS would never. Just simply lying denying or saying he don’t me privately or publicly or more is more than enough to be free of him. Especially after the months or such where they happily say otherwise.

Plus if I don’t, I’d be allowing all the 2+ years of shit to be the rest of my fucking life and NO PROGRESS in anything else. Plus I’m certain God won’t let him die any other way. Because I know how to NOT take bullshit and God is demanding (as it has been from the start of this WHOLE journey) BLIND TRUST, by entering the marriage first before I should see the good I was promised or the way out/his death.

Sigh,

Did I mention I HATE MY LIFE.

Because now God adding more and maybe NOT stopping there. Which is frustrating because I don’t want any more responsibility no matter how much more power, money, whatever else or even if it helps others. Especially if I can’t do a good/great job at it. I don’t want to even be missing out of my children’s life, but the amount of meetings, planning. Shit man. Then add that I’ll have a shitty husband or have to leash him. I want to not have to fucking worry about him. Hence NOT letting go of the consequence/threat because I know it’s easier than the stress of worrying/having that emotional stress especially with everything else. Then FIFA or whatever else. Plus having court to deal with people trying to fuck up good/great things. Especially the execution have to be by me cause I am the one with the God-anointed/led responsibility. So not delegate-able. Then making sure it’s fair, true and the right person/persons is executed, especially if God give me a case I have to use my brain and not a God-said this or that.

I get it people aren’t fond of that. But I understand because God knows all. Especially these days people take an inch and turn it into a mile. Or the fact God is all knowing. He knows who’ll change and who won’t. Or who would create future avoidable problems like in the bible. I don’t remember which king was ordered to kill ALLL down to the babies. But a baby & mother or just a baby was spared. Who grew up and generations later Queen Esther risk her life to appeal to the king so that she could help spare the lives of the people.

It’s there over and over again in the bible. 

I just didn’t think I would need to but knowing the bible I wasn’t surprised when I reached there.

Hence why this era I call it the New-Old Testament.

First it’s doing what the Israelites failed to do, as God’s asked in Genesis which was to SHARE the blessing and goodness of God to OTHERS not just keep it to their people.

Second it’s also learning from their mistakes and showing God’s glory all at the same time. NOT repeating it. Especially after having all that evidence of what disobedience, doing you’re own thing and more caused, especially in the long run.

It still doesn’t change the fact that I hate my life.

[youmakemyhearthowl]

 also available on Ao3

Honestly he shouldn’t be surprised.

People just didn’t love Steve Harrington.

Only the idea of him. His parents money, his social status, how good he made them feel. But there was never really anything about Steve that people wanted to love. So when Nancy called him bullshit, called all of it bullshit, he wasn’t surprised. 

Everything just fucking hurt and he wished it surprised him. Wished he hadn’t seen it coming. But he was Steve, and he was in fact bullshit. Nancy was just the first person to say what everyone else was thinking. 

But then the Upside Down came knocking again and he didn’t really have the time to tend to the heart ache before he was getting his face smashed in by Billy Hargrove, and trying to keep a gaggle of children alive in some creepy fucking tunnels.

So when the dust settled, and Steve went home to an empty house with a grade 3 concussion, that’s when he let himself feel everything. The disregard from his parents, the abandonment and abuse they threw at him his whole life. How much he fucking love Nancy Wheeler only for him to bring backwhat he always knew, that people didn’t love Steve Harrington, couldn’t love him. 

The bullshit of everything came tumbling down on him and he didn’t really know where to go from there. The weight of it brought him to his knees as harsh, throat tearing sobs shook his body and he tried to catch his breath. Slamming his fist over and over into the hardwood floor until it splintered and he felt his knuckles cracking. 

Steve Harrington was nothing but a bullshit person in an empty bullshit house with parents who wished he was never born and As the tears dried, all that was left was a numb empty shell of a person. Picking themselves up and going to bed, not existing even in his own head anymore. 

Meeting Robin helped, after they went through more Upside Down bullshit. She was like the first glimpse of the sun after the worst night of your life. His favorite song to blast with the windows down, screaming the words at the top of his lungs. 

But people don’t love Steve Harrington. So he wasn’t entirely sure what the expiration date was on their friendship, but he was determined to try to hold onto it as tightly as he could. 

Against all odds she stuck around long enough to go through the Upside Down again with him, stuck around long enough to watch him fall in love with Eddie Munson and nearly lose him. 

Not that she knew Steve had fallen. Not that Steve even knew he’d fallen until late one night, alone in his too big house and the panic of the realization sent him spiraling into another panic attack. 

It was the first thing he’d felt since bullshit was thrown in his face and suddenly he couldn’t turn the emotions off again. Any of them.

He was locked in his house for three days when someone came knocking. He hasn’t stopped crying for three days. Everything that he’d punched out that night after Nancy had shattered who he was seemed to be streaming back ten fold into the forefront of his mind and Steve couldn’t 

Shut

It

Off.

So he was stuck in bed, alternating between sobbing and silent tears when the knock startled him out of his thoughts. he couldn’t get his body to move, to pull his legs under him and drag him to the door. He just felt so heavy. Not even the Russians had been able to beat him out of the mindless numbness he’d been in for the last year, the threat of Vecna had barely even managed to ping his radar of finding the switch that opened his clogged emotions. 

But realizing he was in love with someone when he knew, he knew there was nothing about himself worth loving, that seemed to unlock everything and he was so heavy with it all. 

“Stevie, hey man, I hope you don’t mind i used Robins key to let me in.” Eddie’s voice bounced around the walls of the house before landing in Steve’s ears. He couldn’t even bring himself to tense up at the fact that Eddie was here, more sobs tumbling from his lips. “We just haven’t heard from you in a while and everyone’s pretty worr..” Eddie’s voice cut off abruptly as he pushed open the door to Steve’s room, their eyes locking. “Oh baby boy.” He breathed, shuffling over to the side of Steve’s bed and folding himself down next to him. Eddie wrapped his whole body around Steve’s and Steve just cried harder. 

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held him. 

Eddie didn’t try to get him to talk, and didn’t really talk himself, just pulling Steve close as he cried harder, burying his head in the hair on the back of Steve’s neck. When the crying had continued it’s cycle from ugly sobs to silent tears, Eddie finally pulled his head back slightly to speak to Steve. His voice soft and barely loud enough to be considered a whisper. 

“I’ve got you Steve. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m here.” Steve shuddered, pushing back and deeper into the other man’s embrace. 

They didn’t do this, not really. Eddie was a tactile guy, but him and Steve had never shared more than a few shoulder pats and the occasional knees knocking together when they sat too close. But Eddie just squeezed Steve a little tighter and held on like he’d float away if he didn’t. 

Steve didn’t know when he drifted off but the next time he was aware of consciousness the sun beam's position on the wall had changed drastically. 

“ You with me again, Sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice was still that soft barely whisper and Steve couldn’t really find the words in his throat. Everything tangled together in a lump, so he just nodded.

“Have you eaten today?” 

A shake of his head.

“If I made you some toast do you think you could eat it for me?” 

A nod. And Eddie was shuffling to get up again, panic seized at Steve and he clung to the other man’s arms. 

“Don’t work babylove, I’m bringing you with me.” There was a soft press of lips to Steve’s temple and suddenly he was being manhandled into standing up as Eddie practically dragged him out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen. 

It seemed Eddie had decided on more then just toast as he busied himself in Steve’s kitchen. Pots and pans now lining the counter. 

Steve felt like if he didn’t touch Eddie that very moment he was bound to float off into the abyss of everything again, so he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist from behind burying his face in his spine. Eddie didn’t say anything, didn’t even tense at the touch so Steve stayed plastered to him as he worked. 

Steve hadn’t really been paying attention to what was going on around him, but suddenly his face was pressed into Eddie’s chest instead of his spine and Eddie’s arms were wrapped around him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The barely whisper was gone now, Eddie speaking at a regular tone, the softness still clinging to every word. 

“Just the crushing weight of coming out of some sort of fugue state I’ve been in for 2 years.” His voice was muffled by the fabric of Eddie’s shirt but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Steve was nothing if not selfish and he was going to cling to Eddie for as long as he’d let him. Eddie’s hand came up to brush through his hair and Steve leaned into the touch. 

“What’s going on in here?” Two soft taps to his temple. 

“Why can’t people love me?” The words came out so quietly Steve was convinced Eddie probably hadn’t heard them, but his body tensing told him he had. 

“So many people love you, Steve.”

“People love what I can do for them. No one’s ever just loved me.” He pulled his head back now, staring at the dip of Eddie’s collar bones, one of his hands coming up to play with the edge of the shirt resting there. “Not my parents, not Nancy… n-not.. not you.” He pushed the words out past the growing jumble in the back of his throat, he could feel the white hot burn of tears threatening to fall again. 

“Who says I don’t love you, Sweetheart?” And it’s the way he says it, dripping with pain, and Steve knows it’s not pain for him self, it’s pain for Steve and the weight of it is enough to having him pulling back more to look at Eddie’s face. 

“Not really, not the way I love you. Which… I mean which is fine really it’s okay. But even if you do love me, you… you love Steve Harrington, not.. not Steve Harrington.” And he knows it sounds stupid, and petulant but it’s the only way he knows how to say it and he hope Eddie can understand what he means. 

By the way his face crumples, Steve’s pretty sure he does.

“Steve I’ve been head over heels for you, for months.”

“Bullshit.” It comes out as a sob, there’s no venom in the words, pain weaving through every letter as the tears finally fall. 

“You can’t love me. No one does. No one has. I’m not someone that gets loved Eddie. I'm something that people love to have around when I’m useful.” Steve can see Eddie’s heart breaking through his eyes, which he guesses kinda makes sense if you listen to how everyone says the eyes are the window to the soul. But Steve just doesn’t understand why Eddie’s heart would break for him. 

Steve was nothing.

Steve was worthless unless useful. 

How could someone love him. Love just Steve. 

“Baby, you are so far from unlovable. Everything about you takes my breath away. And I’m not just talking about how you look, Steve.” He tacks the last part on when Steve makes a face at him. “You’re like crazy smart you know? You read people in a way that I’ve never seen anyone do. And you’re always risking everything, and I do mean everything, to protect the people you care about. Even people you barely know. You take $20 dollars out of every paycheck just to have quarter rolls for the kids if they want to go to the arcade when they already have their own money, but you want to make sure they can play for as long as they’d like. You cover every shift Robin asks you too without hesitation. Even if you joke that you’re mad about it. Everything lights up about you when the kids come scrambling into whatever room your in. Steve you’re like sunshine in human form. What’s not to love about you? Selfless, kind, more than a little bit of a badass. And you have so much love that you give away basically for free and you never expect anything in return.” Eddies voice gets more passionate as he goes on, his hand coming up to cup Steve’s face, rubbing his thumb along his cheek bone and catching the tears as they fall. “Baby, you’re sunshine.”

Steve shatters. His legs can’t hold him up anymore but Eddie catches him. Eases them both on the ground till somehow he’s got a lap full of Steve and is pulling him close to his chest. Eddie keeps listing all the things to love about him as Steve sobs. His face pressed so hard into Eddie’s neck he’s surprised he can still get enough air to talk. 

Steve Harrington might have been a bullshit, unlovable fuck up. 

But the Steve Harrington wrapped up in Eddie’s arms. Maybe just maybe he deserved to be loved more than he’d ever thought possible for himself.

[eddies-ashtray]

Hiya! First of all, congrats on 1K 🥳 that is amazing! I would love to request the prompts ❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜ from list a and❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ from list b. Thank you for doing this fun prompt 1K celebration!

hi! thank you sm! (cw: nightmares!, talk of panic attack, paranoia, maybe a hint PTSD?) / gn!reader / 1.4k words.

synopsis: you were cursed by vecna and survived. but now, though vecna is dead, you must deal with the paranoia and fear he instilled in you. luckily, eddie is your light the dark; always ready to guide you to shore. 

***

After rounding the corner, you pick a rock from the small pile in your hand and skip it across the pavement. It strikes the tarmac and jumps into the grass on your right where crickets sing. 

Overhead, the full moon weighs heavy in the black sky, casting the trailer park in a soft white glow. It’s enough to light up the whole park on its own; the orange hue of street lamps hardly needed on this cool spring night. You find that the slight chill grounds you, like you’re able to breathe out here. 

It was suffocating being in your trailer. So much so that you’d nearly clawed your way out of the small space and into the open air; you stumbled first from your bedroom, then grabbed onto your kitchen counter for stability, and finally slammed the trailer door open with a thwack. Sucking in air that had previously felt incredibly thin, you clutched the wrought iron porch railing for dear life. 

You’d calmed yourself by now, however. It was only a nightmare. But it felt so real. Though lately you’ve been constantly questioning what “real” even means anymore. 

Walking further down the road, still skipping rocks, you didn’t realize you had turned onto this road of the park until you heard his voice. But maybe you had wanted to end up here. Maybe you hoped he would be up too. 

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself,” Eddie calls from his porch and you turn to face him where you stand at the edge of his lawn, about 6 feet apart. He’s sitting on the rickety wooden boards of the porch, rather than on the brown, peeling couch behind him. 

“Oh! Hi, Eddie,” You greet, breezing past his overprotective comment. If you had told him you were fine, that you did this all the time when he didn’t know, he’d only grow upset and probably lightly reprimand you for going out at night on your own. You’d done this dance many times before.

“Hey,” Eddie greets back, smiling softly at you. His hair is tied loosely in a low bun, some strands pulled out messily from the front, flowing in the inconsistent breeze. You’ve never seen his hair tied back before; it looks cute. He’s also wearing a white tank and a pair of grey sweats, looking extremely soft and gentle in the moonlight. 

Despite going to school together and living in forest hills, just around the corner from each other for years, you hadn’t spoken to him before the events of the month prior. But you’d become something of friends since then and spoke to each other quite often now. 

It’s quiet for a moment as you linger at the edge of the lawn, unsure whether you should join him on the porch. This friendship is still new; tentative.

Eddie notices your hesitance; the way you kick lightly at the gravel with your sneaker and pull your hands together behind your back. You’re just in some sleep shorts and a tee. You must be freezing, he thinks.

“You’re welcome to stay if you want,” Eddie offers. You seem to light up at that, though that could just be the way the moonlight caresses your skin.

You were hoping Eddie would ask you to stay. He was one of the few people who brought you comfort lately and since you were untrusting of most people as of late (paranoid they might turn on you any second and harass you about one of the worst moments of your life. Though you knew this would never happen again with Vecna dead, fear and paranoia still gripped you), it was nice to be around him and not feel on guard. Actually, Eddie seemed to act as your guard; never failing to make you feel safe. 

So, you wander over to him, placing your small pile of rocks next to him and pull yourself up onto the porch beside him.

He glances at the pile of rocks, then looks back up to you where he finds you looking right back at him. You weren’t prepared for his eyes to meet yours though, so you look away quickly, suddenly interested in the grass below your dangling feet. You feel your heart skip a few beats. 

“So,” Eddie begins, still looking at you. 

“So,” You repeat, still looking at the grass. 

Even though you feel a little awkward, it’s good. It feels normal at least; like things aren’t as fucked up as they felt most of the time. You’d rather a little awkwardness than paranoia. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks genuinely, picking one of the rocks from your pile, rolling it from hand to hand.

“I-” You start, dragging the vowel out, brows furrowing as you try to come up with words. But there aren’t really any to explain. Eddie just knows though. And you know he knows when he interrupts:

“Yeah. Me too,” And he skips the rock across the lawn. It bounces off the dirt and clicks against the faded, cracked tarmac, landing in the grass on the other side of the street.

You too pick up a rock and cast it just as you were doing before and Eddie continues his line of questioning, watching your rock sail over the lawn:

“Still having nightmares?”

“Yes…You?” You return the question, turning your head to look at him, his side profile angular, yet somehow soft. 

“Uh-huh,” Eddie sounds, slinging another rock across the road.

“That’s why you’re out here too?” You ask though you know the answer. 

“Yup,” He answers. And as he goes to pick up another rock, he comes up empty. You’d cast every stone. 

Placing his hands behind him on the wood, Eddie leans back and you look back at him. You stare for a moment then cast your eyes downward, thinking. You feel immense gratitude for the rock he’s been for you over these last few weeks. Eddie has been your guard, your rock, your lighthouse; a protector, a lifejacket, and a guide.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie prompts, ducking his head to meet your eyes and causing a strand of hair to fall over his eye. “Where’d you go?” He asks when you look back at him; his dark eyes concerned. 

You sniffle, suddenly emotional. 

Eddie pulls you to his chest immediately, rubbing down your arm soothingly (the second you show any signs of distress Eddie goes into protection mode). He’s warm and smells faintly of cigarettes, and more strongly of something woody, like cedar. More aptly, it briefly crosses your mind that he smells like home. And suddenly, you realize that more than anything Eddie feels like home to you. 

You pull away from him at the realization, hands holding his shoulders softly. He blinks at you, doe-like. You’re so overwhelmed that you just say what you’re thinking right away: 

“Thank you,” You begin somewhat lamely (‘thank you’ doesn’t seem to cover the magnitude of your emotions towards him), sounding out of breath for some reason.

“For everything. For-for letting me sit with you tonight. For checking on me all the time and just…caring. For letting me call you when nothing feels real…You’ve been the only real thing to me; for some reason you’re the only thing–the only person–who I don’t feel completely crazy and paranoid around…You make me feel safe,” You finish, voice cracking at the end as a lone tear falls down your cheek. Eddie swipes it away with his thumb unthinkingly, then holds your face in his hands. You close your eyes briefly at his touch and lean into it, bringing your hands up to hold his wrists. 

“You make me feel safe too. I know how much it means. And I want you to keep calling me, okay? And coming around. Because I need to know that you’re okay. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re alone, so you keep coming to me when things get bad, alright? You hear me?” Eddie says when you stare at him for a moment, stunned by his want–no–, his need to keep you safe. 

You nod weakly, feeling more tears slip down your face.

“Good,” He finalizes. 

Eddie kisses your forehead softly then, pulling you back into his chest, the safe haven of his arms, the warm home of his body. 

You sleep at Eddie’s that night, next to him in his bed. It’s a dreamless sleep; the most peaceful rest you’ve had in weeks. 

[ms0milk]

smooth runs the water ...

| Sanemi x reader

a/n: i've gotten lots of Sanemi requests recently and i've decided to combine a few of them that fit well together into a short fic collection! for this chapter: there's nothing like a little nightmare comfort with the wind husband. pls enjoy and thank u for the request~

warnings: trypophobia (a demon described with a pattern of holes on its body), a violent nightmare sequence, a bloody wound, and a little bit of panic.

2.5k <3

“You smell like shit.”

“I got shit on Shinazugawa, what do you want from me?”

Sanemi turned his back to hide how quickly he smiled at that.

The two of you were wrapping up, quite possibly, the worst mission ever assigned. Your frame of reference as a Hashira was slimmer than Sanemi’s, as a rookie yourself, but you were 150% positive this would go down as one of the most regretful casualty-free missions in corps history. The fucking thing shot something gooey out of so many holes. Right til the end.

Sanemi on the other hand would never complain about the content of a mission entrusted to him by master Ubuyashiki, but fighting in his pajamas wasn’t on his list of possible pleasant outcomes for the evening. Neither was being startled awake by a crow, or learning that a powerful demon had been attacking civilians so close to his home unnoticed, or having to wake you up.

Having to wake you up from your spot against his chest. Having to wake you up after you finally trusted him enough to spend the night.

“These demons are getting whack,” you grumbled, trying to squeeze an unidentifiable orange liquid from your hair, “remember when they just tried to eat you?”

He couldn’t stop, he smiled at everything you did. Fuck.

Your month-long “relationship” was not conventional. You’d been sleeping together for weeks, but you’d never even so much as talked about it. Never brought it up in conversation a single time. No knowing glances, no seductive smirks. You kissed him once in training one afternoon, suddenly and messily, and he kissed you back. Again, and again, and again, almost every night since the last full moon. Kissed and fucked and babbled and moaned, then the moon would start to fall and you’d find your clothes, crack a joke, and the spell would break. That or you’d just kiss him goodbye and leave before the stars even got a chance to shine. Something about your own bed being more comfortable.

“Just shut up already and lemme see your injury,” Sanemi snapped, much more affectionately than he meant to.

“They’re shitting goop now and you’re worried about my bumps and bruises?”

Why did you always do that?

“Come here,” he ordered, like you were his shy little apprentice again. Sanemi sheathed his sword and you mimicked him absentmindedly, ready to pack up and sleep.

You’d long since stopped the bleeding to that superficial shoulder wound– Sanemi had been your mentor after all; what was a flesh wound to a wind Tsuguko? But after a year of considerably less concern from the Hashira, you knew this nagging wasn’t out of fear for your physical safety.

You rested a hand on the hilt of your sword and leaned against the pillar’s night-chilled arm, “All this fussing because you’re worried I’m gonna get a little blood on your sheets?” You knew it wasn’t about that either. “What kind of demon slayer would I be if I couldn’t staunch some bleeding, huh?”

He started walking back towards his property the minute you bumped into him, but the mention of his bed kept him from starting a pace you wouldn’t be able to keep up with.

“You’re...coming back, huh?”

“Jeez Sanemi, do I smell that ba–”

He cut you off with a strong tug on your sleeve. Cut you off before you started up with your infernal sarcasm and he forgot exactly how it sounded when you said his name. He pulled you to the spot next to him so that the both of you walked side by side and he made no sounds other than the grinding of his teeth the whole way back. How did you always make him beg?

As you walked beside him the short journey home– to his home– you wondered why you didn’t make him beg more often? You remembered the warmth of his bedding and how soft his skin was even after scarring over so many, many times. Soft especially where the scars overlapped.

As you poked and prodded and stumbled into one another in the dark, you thought about maybe even reaching out to hold his hand. Romance wasn’t exactly what you envisioned when you kissed him all those days ago, so you tried not to flirt, you tried not to linger in presence or touch– tried not to spend the night.

“Watch it,” He grumbled when you tripped over his foot, and tugged again at the sleeve of your haori, white to match his– although you deployed in such a rush that evening that Sanemi cleared the threshold of his property without even putting on a shirt. As the light of civilization came into focus through the trees, he still didn’t let go.

Sanemi was doing a horrible job of hiding how afraid he was that you’d decide to leave again. That you’d leave and when he saw you tomorrow he’d have to start from square one like he always did when you pretended not to remember the way you made each other feel. He was growing impatient and raw from vulnerability, and he was not going to scare you away– or whatever it was that happened when you’d suddenly pack up to go home. He’d keep you warm all night, and if you made it until morning surely the spell would break.

What he didn’t know was that you’d never even fallen asleep that night. That you’d barely even slept peacefully in two years.

“Y/n, just stay here.” He knelt, still fucked out and flushed, beside the door where you were gathering your clothes, “I’ll kiss you again, whatever you want.”

How many hours passed– minutes, maybe, from the time you rolled your eyes and finally took his hand, to reveling in the warmth of being tucked against his chest? Why was he so warm? Why’d you do it? Why’d you agree to stay?

Every now and then he would squeeze your waist with a sleepy arm and you’d panic, worried he knew you were awake. But the hand he used to draw lazy, windy spirals over and over along your back eventually fell limp and his breath went shallow.

Every now and then he’d murmur something airy and unintelligible.

Every now and then he’d shift in his sleep to get comfortable and his unconsciousness would remember your presence in his arms and stop his moving. His limbs must have been numb. His legs must have been cold from all the blankets you hoarded. He didn’t move. Even in his sleep he was too excited to sleep beside you to risk making you uncomfortable.

When the crow came, you pretended not to notice. You only decided to open your eyes when he began to rock you gently awake in his arms. He must have been too distracted to tell how deep your breathing was– how obvious it was you were awake. Distracted by what? Sleep? The crow? Your face? Was it worse thinking about the way you looked to him or was it worse– was it more pathetic– knowing you were too afraid to fall asleep next to him? You, a pillar, too afraid to sleep.

“Y/n? Hey…we have to go…c’mon, we have to go now. I’m sorry.”

How long did you let him whisper sweet things he would never say when you were awake?

How long did you let him stroke your hair?

At least until it was too unreasonable to pretend anyone could sleep through the racket of a crow in their window.

Not long enough to let your daydream put lives in danger.

Not long enough.

Why’d you do it?

“Ne..mi.”

You had every chance to go home after the mission.

Why’d you do it?

Why’d you come back? You couldn’t even last a month. Why’d you go back home with him? How’d he convince you to stay in the first place?

“Sane…mi..”

Was the demon good karma? Was the crow warning you not to be lulled to sleep in the arms of the man you loved? They gave you an escape. You wasted your chance.

Did you fight a demon tonight? Why did it hurt? Were you hurt? Were you warm? Of course the demon wasn’t karma. You were a pillar, of course you did your job. Of course you killed the demon. Of course you came back home. You were hurt. Of course you needed help. Where was Sanemi?

Why did it hurt?

Do your job Y/n, shut up and do your job.

Your shoulder? Are you bleeding? It’s cold. Are you home? It's wet. This must be the forest. Where’s Sanemi?

Do your job. Stop the bleeding.

“Y/n”

The demon broke through the tree line and suddenly you were pulling yourself up out of the dewy grass. Your sword was wrapped to your hand with the remanence of your haori– your white haori to match your master. Why weren’t you strong enough to hold it?

Fuck, what happened? When were you knocked unconscious? You took a second to size up your opponent, oozing orange from every orifice of its hole-filled body. The demon wriggled like a maggot and stood on two long legs, with a rounded head balancing at the very top. It’s body was riddled with those weeping, bleeding holes and you realized it must be the manifestation of rot.

You hadn't killed it. You never came home.

“Y/n!”

You tied your sword to your hand because your shoulder was injured. Right. Your shoulder, stop the bleeding! Your grip strength dwindled with every second, as did your consciousness. How did it hit you? What did it strike you with? Why did you dream of Sanemi?

And then it was suddenly on top of you–

Claws!

Claws and ooze filling another wound. It closed the gap too quickly and struck you clean through– through– through your stomach. Was it always this fast? Could you stop the bleeding? Stop the bleeding! Could you repair your shoulder? Please, you’re going to die! Could you make it back home to–

“Y/n!”

“Fuck!” You gasped and sat up so quickly Sanemi’s face got caught in the crossfire. He held his nose with a holler and stared at you from where he was kneeling.

Fuck. Where–

“Are you okay?!”

“Are you okay?!” You heaved and…heaved and heaved, “Am I…” and heaved, “am…” and heaved, “…where…”

You were in the middle of a splay of sheets and bedding. Against your skin was soft cotton, not grass. You bunched a pillow in your fist, not a sword. Blood stained the two futons underneath you. A hand cupped your face.

“Y/n what happened? What are you fighting?” Blood fell out of Sanemi’s nose like the goddamned tap, but his attention was set so firmly on you he didn’t notice. His head was cocked and his hands busied themselves wiping sweat from your brow and chest. He looked perfectly at home in such a wreck of a bedroom. Surrounded by torn and soiled sheets, staring with those wide intense eyes.

Blink damn you.

“Sanemi I’m so sorry, you’re bleeding everywhere.” He had to stop himself from throwing his head back in laughter. You cupped his face to wipe the blood from his nose out of his mouth, “This is not the kind of foreplay I–”

“Y/n stop!”

You weren’t gasping anymore.

“Stop deflecting, just talk to me.” He stopped his dabbing and snatched up your hands so they’d quit flitting around his face, “Are you okay?” And then he smiled with such concern it made you sick.

“I’m, I’m yeah, I…fine, I’m fine. We should really think of a..a um, a safe wor–”

“No jokes!”

Why was he smiling like that? How did he shout so loudly and look so soft at the same time?

“If–If I..” you murmured while he wiped his face with a pillowcase. He scooted closer to you. “If I don’t laugh about it, Sanemi…Sanemi I’ll just…”

“Try it. Just this once. What’s gonna happen?”

“I’ll…I’ll just…”

His grin relaxed, but didn’t disappear. It got even softer somehow, “You already got blood all over my favorite futon, what else could possibly go wrong?”

You jerked your hands away from his in a panic and clutched the gash in your shoulder. Warm blood soaked between your fingers and you realized the stains on the bedding weren’t from his bloody nose, but your injury from the mission earlier. Did you reopen it in your sleep– did you fall asleep?!

“That’s some pretty shoddy staunching.”

And then you started to cry.

He pressed his forehead against yours and sighed in relief, “Please let me help you.”

“N-Nemi I had such a terrible dream!” You let your face fall against his and wept into your nestled laps. You’d been plagued by nightmares since the start of your time in the corps, but had you ever let yourself cry about them in relief when you awoke?

“Sanemi I– I was alone! I’m sorry I ruined your sheets! I’m sorry I woke you up!”

You held your shoulder tightly to ward off the pain, until his hand took its place. It was impossible not to curl in on yourself. He’d lit a candle before you woke up to find the source of the bleeding and now the sun was starting to rise. It was impossible to hide from him with all that light. It was impossible to go back to sleep and you couldn’t run away.

“You’re safe here you messy fucker.”

You hiccuped softly as he began to wrap the wound in torn sheets. He pulled you into his lap to tie off the temporary bandage and let you linger even after he finished. You sniffled onto his soft, bare shoulder. He nestled into your shaking bloody one.

“Is this why you never spent the night?”

You could hear him speaking in your very bones from how deeply he sank into the crook of your neck. When you caught your breath, you made sure to reply softly against the shell of his ear, the spot where he was so sensitive.

“I never spent the night ‘cos I know how loudly you snore.”

He scoffed in frustration, but held you tighter. You wrapped your legs around his hips and steadied your breath into the warm skin of his bicep. This was better than having to look him in those wide worried eyes. You could talk later.

“I must have been…pretty tired to fall asleep with someone next to me.”

Was it a relief to wake up next to somebody for a change? You yawned as if to answer your own question.

“You sure it’s not just because you’ve got a thing for me?”

You still wanted to run away, but did the thought of staying make your heart clench in fear?

“Y/n? Hey?” Sanemi squeezed your hips. He dragged his fingertips down your back and peered at the world through your hair. A gentle snore escaped your mouth.

Clenching in fear? Nah, not now.

He leaned back a little so that your sleeping body could slump against him and chuckled as the sun finally crested the mountains outside his window. Blood dripped down his chest from his face and your shoulder, but he laid back anyway, determined to let you finally sleep peacefully even if it was bloody and sprawled on top of him. Even if you still smelled like orange goo.

Yeah, you could talk later.

part two >>