#i never did take my bed at home for granted because it was for real my safe space for like ever

[picturesque-score]

my bed at school is so comfortable

[webslingingslasher]

i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.

parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!

Peter had two sets of friend groups. 

The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 

Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 

It’s split like this. 

With friend group A, he’s Peter.

With friend group B, he’s Parker. 

You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 

Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 

It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 

His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 

Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 

It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 

You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 

If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?

—------------------------------

Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 

If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 

“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 

You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 

Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 

Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 

“Want company?” 

Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 

He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 

“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 

You shrug, “sure.” 

Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 

That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 

“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 

His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 

So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 

When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 

—----------------------------------

Noise woke you up. 

The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 

There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 

You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 

It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 

“Baby?” 

You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 

“I slept like shit, how about you?” 

You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 

Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 

“Waffles or pancakes?” 

You grin, “french toast.” 

Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 

He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 

“Okay, come here.” 

You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 

Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 

A text thread between him and Nick. 

“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 

“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 

“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 

“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 

“Appreciate it, man.” 

A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 

Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 

You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 

You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 

“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 

“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 

You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 

[sirenhub]

CURRENT WIPS !!

DEAD DOVE CONTENT MENTIONED UNDER THE CUT, if you’re not a fan of d.d. content do not interact with this post! i am not responsible for what you consume.

filler post! these are a list of my current wips for upcoming fics with sneak peeks! if you would like to be tagged in any of these, please let me know by replying or filling out my taglist :3 i hope you like them <3

DAD! LEON X DAUGHTER! READER — tw. incest, noncon, dubcon. based on an interaction i had with this leon bot made by my beloved @gor3-hound !! permission to make this interaction a fic has been given <3

when your dad comes back from alcatraz, you want nothing more than to cling onto his side. leon, being the good dad he is, he is happy to indulge your clinginess. you will always be his baby girl no matter what! so when you ask if you could sleep in his bed the night of his arrival, he happily obliged.

what he didn’t expect was waking up with a hard on while you stayed cuddled to his side! leon is a good dad, and he would never do anything to you, but instead, you took it into your hands to help him with that hard on! no matter how morally wrong it was.

DAD! LEON X DAUGHTER’S BEST FRIEND! READER — tw. noncon, corruption, baby trapping. based on two asks i sent @rigorwhoring while i was 💋 anon. ask 1, ask 2.

after getting kicked out of your house by your narcissist mother, you’re left with little money and no roof to sleep under. luckily for you, your best friend from college — sherry kennedy — convinces her dad to let you stay with them until you’re able to stand on your own two feet. meeting mr. kennedy was anxiety inducing, but sherry assured you that her dad isn’t as scary as he seems!

leon wasn’t a fan of sharing his home with some girl he hasn’t met before, but he couldn’t say no to his little girl. after meeting you and seeing how cute you were, leon wasn’t as annoyed as he was before. an attraction began to form for leon, you cooked, cleaned, and behaved. you would be the perfect little wife, so one night he takes initiative to make you just that.

UNCLE! LEON X NIECE! READER — tw. incest, noncon. based on a convo i had with @gor3-hound about the idea of uncle! leon.

you have no idea how no one else has noticed his behavior towards you. he’s beloved by your family, your dad’s younger brother, a government worker. uncle leon can do no wrong, but you know he can. you know the real him.

you thought skipping out on the family get together at your uncle’s house would grant you some distance away from him, but that’s just wishful thinking. your uncle is like a cold sore, one that keeps coming back, no matter how hard you try to get rid of it. your uncle isn’t an idiot, he knew you were trying to get away from him, it was cute really. sadly, your uncle isn’t the type to simply give up, so after final exam season is over for your college, leon comes to stay over at your dad’s house. now you’re stuck, wishing you had just gone to the get together, because now you’re sharing the same roof with the man you had so desperately tried to away from.

and you know what dear uncle leon is going to do to you.

MPREG! LEON X FEM! READER — cw. pregnant leon, tbh idk how leon got pregnant but who cares, male lactation, leon hates the fact he’s pregnant, sucking on his pecs..breastfeeding? handjobs. mpreg obsession came after this mpreg! chris bot made by @/nexysworld — idk if you wanna be tagged! — (it was really hot you should use the bot!)

how the fuck did this shit happen? leon had no fucking clue, he’s a full biological man, he had a dick and balls. he doesn’t have a womb? but he’s pregnant? he has a girlfriend! he dreamed about getting you pregnant, making you full with his kid, but now he’s the one full with your kid.

leon was apprehensive to keep the baby, but after some talks, it was decided to keep it. you, being the good girlfriend you are, you take good care of him. leon wanted to hate you for putting him in this situation, it didn’t help that sometimes you could be so mean about it. teasing him and making jabs at the fact he’s pregnant. nonetheless, you’re still taking care of him, and he can’t complain. as the months passed and his pregnancy progressed, his pecs began to swell with milk, it made them full and uncomfortable. his pecs still looked like pecs, though they were just fuller. the milk he produced was just there, making him achy and uncomfortable given he hasn’t had the kid yet, how the hell was he supposed to drain them?

after leon came to you with his grievances, you decided to help him out. there was no harm in milking your pregnant boyfriend’s swollen pecs! besides, you decide to help him in other ways too, god knows he needs it. in moments like these, leon is forever grateful to have you at his side.

[malebodyexhibit]

A Second Chance (a Next Door Boy tale)

Do you think someone could do a better job at your life than you could?

That’s my friend, Erik. We were best friends growing up, but slowly lost connection with each other in middle school. He was more sports oriented than I was. He tried out for football, hockey, and basketball (basically all the sports), and he became the star of many people’s eyes. He was the object of many girls’ affection and the goal most guys wanted to be.

I thought I wanted to be like him, but I realized I had a crush on him. This truth just drove a deeper divide between us as we moved onto high school. I became more bookish and defined myself by becoming the opposite of him. When he got a sports scholarship and became a star athlete in college, I got an academic scholarship and became an honors student. He got a fiance and body other guys only wanted. I struggled to maintain a long-term relationship and was a certified twink.

No doubt I fit some’s idea of cute and sexy, but it never lasts. Everyone wants bigger. Everyone wants someone like Erik.

Because we were at the same college, I heard the news in class when it happened. He was rock climbing with friends when his hand slipped, but his gear (was it a belay?) failed to function and he suffered a fall.

The following weeks hung with a held breath as his fans waited to hear news of his recovery, but it released in a flood of sobs when it was found out he wouldn’t fully recover. There were loads of support, but also other athletes. He was respectfully replaced. The world had to move on.

So did his fiance after a year. “What he needs is a caretaker, not a wife,” she said when releasing a statement. “He won’t even be able to complete his marital duties.” Erik dropped from school shortly after. He didn’t feel like a real person anymore. Just a hushed tragedy why you shouldn’t take your health for granted.

I, on the other hand, failed a few classes, dropped from the honors program and did nothing remarkable for the past year. My last boyfriend cheated on me with his personal trainer. I walked in on them fucking on my bed.

But honestly, I’d cheat on me to if I had a chance with that hunk.

But what changed my life was finding the Next Door Boy agency. I fantasized living a life as some hunk getting pounded by older men. But alas, I was poor. When I wondered if I could become talent, the agent for Next Door Boy scoffed at me and said, “Who would want to be a scrawny gay nerd?”

I left pretty dejected and my thoughts went to Erik. He’d have no problem becoming talent before the accident Anyone would want to wear the skin of an attractive, undergrad athlete. But I doubt he’d do it if it was available then. He was honest and kind hearted. He worked for his goals and he would probably find the idea disgusting.

But now in his current state, would he consider leaving his life behind? The idea struck a fire in me and I finally looked him up all these years later. When I arrived at his family’s home, it seemed to be held in a state of quiet. After letting me in with smile that spoke of remembering her son’s childhood friend, she led me to Erik’s room. It was no longer an elementary kid’s room who loved card games or Tony Hawk. It was an almost hospital-clean room with him at the center.

It was hard to describe or be there. The reality of the situation hit me, but we spoke timidly. We reminisced about the old days, then he wanted to know more about my life. Each day, he’d pry a bit more as if wanting something from ‘real life.’ Finally it came out that I was depressed and the past few years flooded out. He listened intently and tried to comfort me. A good guy like him shouldn’t face this fate.

When I got the nerve to ask him about the Next Door Boy agency, his face twisted into a venomous and spiteful grimace. “Don’t mention them again.” It turned out that his ex-fiance had a series of arguments with him before she left about the agency. She wanted him to take all the donations, some loans, to find someone willing to house his mind in their body. She would even help him find the perfect body, but it was too much. He would rather not be a parasite and buy athletic performance and live someone else’s life. Then his parent’s brought up the idea a couple times, but he shot it down.

He then confided in me that he had thought about it. But there was just no money. The donations couldn’t afford it all and his adoring fans moved onto the next hot star. His parents would have had to take out so many loans. Imagine getting out of this broken body and falling into soul-crushing debt.

Also, who would give up their body for him?

“I would,” I said. I initially said it reflexively, but as I said it and saw the expression on his face change, I knew it was true. “We’ve been friends, Erik. You’ve always been someone I idolized even after we stopped talking. Especially since we stopped talking, because you kept doing your best and pushing yourself to new challenges. I can’t seem to even exist without failing. And there’s something else…”

I told him about how I felt growing up with him. About my crush on him and how I pushed him away because I was afraid of him rejecting me.

When I was finished, his eyes glistened with tears, we sat in silence for a moment, before I said, “If you’re okay with it, we can speak with NDB. This is something I want for you.”

And that’s how it happened. We spoke with the NDB agent and the process was available. Because we were providing the bodies (how morbidly put), the cost was vastly cheaper. As long as I could prove I wasn’t coerced into this decision, it was a go. We went through the procedure to place the implants and went over what to expect.

Unlike the usual subscription other clients get where one mind goes in and one mind goes out, we opted for sharing the same body. Erik wouldn’t have it any other way. “We’ve been apart long enough, let’s spend this together.” It was touching, but we also couldn’t afford a replacement body for me.

The agent mentioned that this was a proven safe method of co-habitation. It couldn’t be that we take turns in control. One of us would always be ‘watching’. Erik almost volunteered himself, but I interjected. I made him promise to live his life and let me experience it. The agent mentioned that this set up would lessen risk of something. I didn’t hear it.

When the procedure was finished, I watched as Erik as me stood up. He struggled for a bit orienting himself. He worked with a physical therapist to gain more confidence in his movements. When two weeks passed and he was able to spend an entire day doing normal activity, it was decided he could attempt strength training.

I could feel the effort he poured into the body as he lifted the dumbbell over his head (no longer can I call it my own). What had been my soft stomach was now glistening in sweat as he pulled himself up in a sit up. He gasped for breath and the start of a washboard stomach flexed with each exhale. After his workout, he stood in front of the mirror and flexed his biceps. What had been twig arms now bulged with muscle newly acquired from Erik’s training. He still wasn’t at his pre-injury form and probably won’t be for many years, but he taken a non-athletic body to such a piece of meat.

“Thank you so much,” he said.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I said in his thoughts. “You thank me everyday, but this is all you. I could never have done this.”

“I will keep thanking you until the day we die. Well, it’s time to shower.” He walked to his gym locker and stripped his underwear off. His cock flapped down. Before he had been hesitant to touch it without apologizing to me, but now he absent mindedly adjusted it. He started his strut towards the showers when a guy exiting the showers glanced at him. The man looked at Erik’s package and was about to say something when Erik said firmly, “Sorry, dude. I don’t swing that way. Got a girlfriend back home” He continued on his way.

After lathering his body and drying himself off, Erik pulled on some clothes. He has a great fashion sense and it looks great on his muscular frame. If I tried to dress that way before with my twink body, it’d look embarrassing.

Erik took out his phone and dialed his girlfriend. They got together several months after the procedure. He already worked my body semi-presentable, plus with a good haircut and a great personality, he snagged an awesome girl. My sexuality never passed onto him and I watched on many occasions as he rode his girl to climax. I never knew my dick would be so awesome in the hands of another guy.

“Hey, babe,” Erik huskily whispered into the phone. “I’m headed home. I worked myself hard, but I think I still have energy left in me for tonight. Yeah, I’ll pick some up on the way home. I love you, babe.”

I thought I’d be hurt to hear those words, but as Erik hung up, we both released a sigh of contentment.

[milliesfishes]

maybe a slow lovely morning with alex neither of you wanting to admit you have to get on two separate planes soon and then eventually having to say goodbye … :((((

hope you’re having fun with your friend today!

thank you darling, it was lovely <3 this is so sweet <3 ⋆౨ৎ𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓵𝓮𝔁 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓿𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷⋆౨ৎ 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓪𝓵𝓮𝔁 𝓷𝓲𝓵𝓼𝓮𝓷

The early hours of the morning had a tendency to drag like two heavy feet behind you. You were used to the feelings accompanying rising early to get ready for work, in no mood yet to put energy into curling your hair or applying makeup just so you could deem yourself acceptable enough to exit the confines of your apartment.

Today, it was different. Today you relished every second granted, every breath you drew. Because this morning you weren't waking up alone.

Alex's body was lining your back, cocooning you with his arms twined around your waist, one hand creeping up your chest and grasping your collarbone like a vine, and the other settled splayed on your tummy. His fingers were the roots of a tree, and you wished they would take to the earth of your stomach forever.

Shifting against his back, you tried not to let the inevitable consume you. It was circling the two of you like a hawk over helpless prey, the sharp, cruel threat of its talons edging tainting what little time you had left.

On the bedside table sat two plane tickets, bound for separate destinations. You'd stacked them together in the hopes that you could fool your waking mind into false promises. That later today you'd board the same plane holding hands, and he'd rest his head on your shoulder and sleep while you played your movie, one earbud in his ear. That you'd get a taxi from the airport together and leave your suitcases in the closet to unpack another day in favor of cuddling any post-trip exhaustion away.

You dreamt of domesticity with him, imagined his toothbrush beside yours, purchasing a new nightstand for his side of the bed, his read of the week resting atop it parallel to his pills. It was a pleasant daydream to imagine him warming the other side of your bed, just as he was now.

But the cold splash of reality always awakened you, and its spray was directed at you now. You reached for his hand on your belly, bending your fingers into the space between his. A perfect fit like always, though the size of his hands far exceeded yours.

A gentle kiss was pressed to your shoulder, where his chin was nestled, and he murmured, voice thick with sleep. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Your voice was wobbly, precarious like a child's stack of blocks. Alex's fingers pressing into yours showed he heard it.

He used his hand on your collarbone to draw invisible shapes into your skin, pads of his fingers warm. Another kiss, this time to the crook of your neck. "I'm thinking about it too."

A little whimper akin to a cat's mewl escaped you, and swiftly, you turned in his arms, head finding its place in his chest and grasping onto his arms. His skin was warm, and it provided a modicum of comfort as you burrowed into him. "I don't wanna leave you."

"I don't want to either." Alex's soft tone was like a balm on your aching heart, and you wished you could bottle it and put it on your nightstand for whenever you were missing him back home. When you were separated like this, there was never a lack of contact. Frequent phone calls, texts, pictures ensued, but it could never fill the place of the real thing.

You shoved your ear to his heart- the sound of it calming you like always. Even though you couldn't see him from this angle, you knew he was smiling. He did every time you soothed yourself this way, as if he was there merely for your pleasure. Smushing your cheek into his pec, you mumbled, "I wish I could take this with me."

"My heart?" His hand combed through your hair, stroking the back. "I think I might need that."

"Well what if I want to have it?" Your chin was resting on him now, as you gave him a pouty look.

"You already do," Alex affirmed, lifting one of your hands and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. "You take up all the space in it. My one humble request is that I keep the organ."

Sighing dramatically, you lifted yourself up slightly to look at him fully. "I wish you could come back with me."

"I know." Alex slid his hands to your waist, dragging you to sit atop his hips. His fingers lingered, rubbing the expanse of your sides. "You just have to give me until the end of the school year. Just a few more months. And then I'll be with you and you'll miss missing me."

You cracked a smile at that, a little giggle falling out. "Only if you keep waking me up at the crack of dawn when you go on your runs."

"Isn't my fault you're a light sleeper, baby." He sat up, kissing your nose. "But I'll try. Wouldn't want to get kicked out."

"You're lucky you're pretty," you teased, smoothing your hands over his shoulders and leaning into him once again, his warmth engulfing you. There, sheltered in his arms, you allowed yourself five more minutes before the demands of the day would take over, forcing you to accept the fact that you would wake up alone tomorrow.

Alex nosed a kiss into your hair, whispering sweet things that swallowed your senses, and for once you weren't worried about enjoying your time with him enough.

Right now there was only him.

[likedovesinthewindd]

howdy! i’ve got a request for spencer reid x gn!autistic reader? or if you’re not feeling the autistic reader, can the reader have chronic pain, but specifically in their legs? fluffy but like hurt/comfort, ya know? like he helps take care of them but the reader is terrified they’re being a burden or that they’re not good enough for him etc etc? i’ve just been struggling a lot with my chronic pain recently and spencer is a big comfort for me🥹if you’re not down for this request thi, don’t worry about it! thank you!!

hi love, I'm sorry this took forever to finish! as someone who also struggles with my legs, i feel you. it can be really awfull and frustrating and i hope you get better real soon, sending love🩷🩷

spencer reid x gn!reader

warning: chronic pain, medication mention/use, self-deprecating thoughts.

wc: ± 1180

a/n: none

It had been a long day, and the dull ache beginning to form in your legs was an obvious indicator of an even longer night. You quickly stripped as you made your way to your bathroom, running a bath and ordering something to eat; you didn't feel like having to stand by a stove tonight.

Spencer was working late again, something about having to finish paperwork. You contemplated calling him; he always assured you that you could call him whenever you needed anything (granted he was in the same state as you). You tried not to though, because you were already dependent on him as is.

It felt unfair to have him look after you the way he did, and the guilt consumed you. Spencer worked extremely hard, and when he wasn't working he was taking care of you. He always told you he didn't mind, that he did it because he loved you. You believed him, but you couldn't help but feel as though you were holding him back, taking away the only time he had to actually rest.

Spencer was still young, he didn't have to be held back by you.

Your prediction of a long night had been correct, and you found yourself squirming beneath the covers trying to distract yourself from the ache in your tired legs. The bunch of painkillers did little to quell the burning throb, and you found yourself on the verge of tears, untill you heard the familiar footsteps make their way to your shared room.

The door creaked open with a shrill, and you burried your face into the pillow, waiting for the inevitable shine of the ceiling light being switched on, but it never came. Instead you felt the bed dip right beside, you and a soft palm being placed between your shoulder blades, it's warmth seeping through the thin sleeping shirt you wore.

"Are you assleep?" he asked softly, and you shook your head, face still burried in your pillow. He only hummed, the hand on your back moving along your body till it found your leg beneath the covers.

"D'you want me to rub your legs for you?" he asked quietly, and God, how badly did you want that right now. Your head rose frome the pillow, looking over at the small alarm clock on your nightstand. It was just a little past midnight. "No," you said moving into a seated position, moving to your nightstand to turn on the lamp.

When the warm light filled the room, you found Spencer's eyes on you, giving you a concerned look. "It's alright Spencer, it's late and you're probably tired," you tried, but his expression only worsened. "I don't mind," he tried and you gave him the most convincing smile you could muster.

"I'm alright, please get some rest," you said, placing your hand on his, the other one still absent-mindedly rubbing your legs beneath the covers. "Are you sure?" he asked and you nodded. He gave you a reluctant look, before standing up to change from his work clothes.

You always felt so bad whenever Spencer had to help you. He always went out of his way, even if he's had a long day at work or just got home from whatever state they had been in.

You wanted to be more independent, wanted to help yourself more and allow Spencer some time for himself, which was why you started refusing his help, distancing yourself bit by bit.

In return, Spencer thought he had done something wrong. You didn't want him to touch you, or help you when he saw you were clearly in pain or discomfort. And he wanted to help you, because he didn't like seeing you hurt. He already saw so much pain and hurt in his job, he didn't want to come home to find you hurting too.

✧.˳⁺⁎˚

It was a particularly bad day, and you found yourself on your couch watching TV as you clutched the heating pad between your legs. You didn't even go to work today, the pain too much for you to even function properly. When you heard the click of the front door opening, you wanted to crawl in on yourself. Spencer saw the glow of the TV illuminating the living room, and made his way inside quietly, placing his things on the kitchen table and making his way to the couch.

He saw you laying there, and his face dropped at your pained expression. He crouched down so he could be at eye level with you. "How are you feeling?" he asked. For a moment you considered telling him the thrust, telling him how much it hurt and how much you wanted him to take the pain away the way only he could. But you bit your tongue, giving him a small smile instead.

"I'm okay, Spencer," you said softly. "How was work?" you asked, trying to change the subject. "It was alright, are you sure you're okay dear?" he asked again. You sighed tiredly. "Spence—"

"Why don't you want me to help you?" he interrupted. "Because it's not your responsibility Spencer, it's not your job to look after me," you snapped, sitting up in the couch. "Where is this coming from?" he asked taking a seat next to you. You took a deep breath before answering.

"I feel bad, Spencer," you started softly, refusing to meet his eyes. "You already have so much to worry about. You work so hard and then you come home to—"

You were interrupted by Spencer's hand gently grabbing onto yours, effectively stopping you from nervously picking at your nails.

"I don't want you to feel that way, ever," he said softly, squeezing at your hand reassuringly. He sighed when he noticed your gaze still stuck on your lap.

"Please look at me," he pleaded and you raised your head from where you had been staring a hole into the blanket draped over your lower body. He gave you a small smile when you looked up at him, giving your hand another squeeze for good measure.

"I love you," he started, "and I decided to be with you as you are, with the good and the bad, just like you took me with the good and the bad. I don't want you to ever feel like a burden, because you're not. I help you because I want to, and I'll always want to."

Damn you and your sensitive heart, beacuse you found yourself on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry," you started, but he quickly interjected. "Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong," he said, wiping away a stray tear. "I love you, all of you. You should never doubt that."

"I don't," you said giving him a small smile. "Then let me take care of you," he said. Your smile widened, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a crushing hug. And it felt so good after weeks of pushing him to the side and denying his affection. His warmth seeping into your body, an instant comfort to your tired body and crestfallen heart.

[chemicalalice]

Fic: It's Not My Love You'll Drown In - Kinktober Day 2

Title: It's Not My Love You'll Drown In Summary: You could only reject Kylo Ren so many times Pairing: Kylo Ren x female!Reader (more of an OC, but no details are really mentioned so it can be read as xReader) Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, swearing. Angst. Angst. More angst? Rough sex. Please be mindful of yourself and do not read if this content bothers you. 18+ only! Word count: 2910 AN: For the prompt ‘bath/shower’ for Kinktober 2023. No beta. I have a whole background novel written in my head for the mess that is Kylo Ren, Hux, and reader for this little 'verse. I am sure I will be writing more at some point. My Kinktoer this year is just chock-full of toxic relationships this year. Yay?

It was rare that your smile was actually genuine, and not just a front for some subtle manipulation. Now though, as you stepped into the bathing room, steam curling around you, your smile, and the sigh of pleasure that accompanied it, was real.

When it came to the Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren may be Snoke's apprentice, and Hux the preferred commander, but you were Snoke's favorite subordinate; the one granted the most freedom and the most privilege. Though it came at a cost. Snoke didn't care for your intelligence or, even more importantly, your powerful connection to the force. No, you face and your body were the only things that were considered your useful assets; ones Snoke saw to exploit and trusted you to use to further his agenda. No matter what it cost you.

You had had dreams once, ideas of what you wished your future would hold. They were simple, girlish things: a large home on a green planet, a handsome husband, the laughter of children filling you ears and heart. Ren had ruined all that for you. All you had now was your much envied place in the First Order hierarchy that still had most people regarding you as little more than a cunning whore who only had the power she did because she had seduced two of the most powerful men in the galaxy.

Still, it wasn't without its benefits. It was ridiculous and a waste of resources, but when you demanded the construction of a bathing chamber with a palatial soaking pool filled with water drawn from a mountain spring on a distant moon, there wasn't really anyone who could say no to you.

And you didn't mind taking Hux to your bed; not really. You actually cared a great deal for the man, all things considered. It could have even been love, in a different life.

You dropped your towel to the floor as you descended the steps into the pool, sighing again in satisfaction as the warm water rose up around your body. You refused to think of your other lover. The one you continuously rejected until it reached a tipping point and you had no choice but to give in. This was your favorite escape. And you would not sully this rare opportunity when both men were off ship and you had no one to demand anything of you by thinking of that....hulking beast.

You felt your blood pressure start to rise at the mere thought of Ren and took a deep breath, forcing the anger away.

A star ship was never truly quiet, there was always the low hum of the air handlers and engines, but all that became white noise that could easily be ignored as it faded into the background. Here, in this room, was the only place on the ship that you could find silence. And now, you happily embraced it.

Your eyes slipped shut as you sank deeper into the water. A rare sense of calm rolled over you and weight seemed to lift. You let yourself float, aided only ever so slightly with the Force that eternally swirled about you. And as your body floated, your mind drifted away.

You weren't sure how long you had been floating when you felt it- a gentle tug, a hand reaching out through the Force for you, yanking you back from the peace you had been swathed in. What had started as mere brush across your consciousness soon became more more forceful. Searching. Grasping. Demanding.

Your stomach sank in dismay and let you your legs drop, planting your feet on the bottom of the pool to stand, to escape, but the doors of the chamber were already being forced open and a storm of black cloth and anger was pouring in, the doors sliding shut behind him, sealing you in with the only person in the galaxy you despised more than Snoke himself.

The anger was pouring off him in waves, emotions made physical due to your sensitivity to the Force, and to him; and you watched as he ripped off his helmet, sent it hurling into the wall to his left, cracking the delicate tile with it's impact. You scowled, furious at his childishness and his never ending destruction of everything around him.

You knew he could feel your distaste by the way his eyes snapped to focus on you. They were filled with fury, no doubt at what was most likely another failure in his hunt for Skywalker, but as you watched them you could see the way that something else crept in. A familiar hunger. You skin prickled at the way his eyes traced over you, down from your face to your exposed body. Watched as his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

You dropped ungracefully back into the water, arms crossing over your chest, hiding what you could of your nakedness under the scant cover of the rippling water. It was petty and pointless. He knew your body inside and out, but you did it anyways. Any opportunity to deny him, deny the bond that held you two together for all eternity, was one that would would take. It was your own bit of childishness, you knew.

“Get out,” you hissed, even as you were moving away, pushing through the water until your back hit the far side of the pool.

“I need you.” His voice was low; urgent and forceful.

“No.”

“You cannot deny me this.”

“I can and I will. Go lick the wounds of your failure elsewhere!”

“Please!” It didn’t take much before his show of bravado fell away and the desperation appeared.

“No Ren! You are not welcome here!” Your voice was a snarl, you mind pushing back against the hands you could still feel reaching out through the Force for you.

You glared at him. Even now, after all the years together, Kylo was still just as unpredictable to you as he was to outsiders. You did not know if he would give in, accept your rejection and slink away with his tail tucked between his legs. But as you waited, you saw the anger return. Your stomach sank. There would be no denying him this time.

Ren started forward, eyes fixed on you. You blinked in surprise when he didn’t stop at the edge of the pool, but descended down the steps into the water with all his clothes still on. The fabric took on water quickly, and although you knew it would have added a significant weight, it didn’t slow Kylo’s steady progress toward you in the slightest.

When he reached you, strong arms wrapping around you and hauling you to press against his firm body, you didn’t resist. There was no point anymore. Not tonight.

When his mouth descended to your, stars exploded behind your eyelids as you lips finally touched. The kiss was desperate, as if you were water and he a man near death with thirst. You felt it too. You hated the bittersweet relief his touch always brought, as if a part of your very being had been absent without him. And it would always be this way. He was your soulmate, the one person in the entire Universe that the Force decided you would be tied to forever, and in denying him you only denied yourself as well. There was no escaping fate.

You moaned loudly as his lips traveled from your mouth to your neck and continued their path south. His name slipped from your lips in a desperate cry as his mouth found your breast, lips closing around one nipple, tongue swirling around the bud. You leaned back, burying you hands in the dark mess of his hair, drawing him closer, as your back arched, opening yourself up to as much of your body as he wanted.

His mouth returned to your briefly before he pulled away, staring down at you with pleading eyes and swollen lips. “I need you.” He repeated his words from earlier.

“Then have me,” came your breathless reply, and your hands fell to the sodden fabric that concealed him from you. You wanted to feel him, to feel his skin, every inch of it pressed to yours. But you knew that would not be happening now. He was too desperate, too frenzied, after such a long time of being denied.

You helped him tug the heavy cowl off his shoulders. It was normally heavy, a thick, densely woven fabric that he wore almost as a shield, but it felt like an impossible weight now, with all the water it had absorbed. When he was finally free of it, he didn't bother with the tunic underneath, just reached down and freed himself from his trousers and undergarments. He barely had himself exposed before he was reaching for you again.

Kylo had the capability of being a good, considerate lover; to be gentle and accommodating. Long ago, in a different life when he had a different name, that is how it had always been between you. But now, with the years of hurt and anger and resentment between you, with his contestant desperate longing that you continuously rebuffed, he was usually too worked up to be the lover he once was when you finally did submit to him. You knew the rush stemmed from his fear that at any second you would turn cold, turn him again from your heart and body and his chance at physical connection with you would slip through his fingers like smoke.

He forced himself roughly between your thighs, lining himself up and then pushing up inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one thrust that had you stretching around his almost painfully. He moaned loudly, pressing his face into the junction of your neck.

As was expected, his pace was quick, and the frantic pumping of his hips churned the water around you even as the force of his thrusts had you falling back against the side of the pool.

You threw you arms around his neck for balance, and the rough fabric of his wet clothes chaffed at your bare skin, the friction against your nipples shooting sparks of pleasure directly to your cunt.

You squeezed your eyes shut, tried to focus on the pleasure, on the feeling of his solid weight pressing down on you, on the fullness of him buried in your core.

His mouth was pressed to your throat, kissing, licking, biting at every inch of skin he could reach. And you could hear the words spilling from his lips. Mine. My queen. My empress. My goddess. My soul. A prayer only you would ever hear.

He reared back suddenly, ripping himself from your grasp, pulling out until only the tip of him remained in your body. His eyes were dark as he stared down at you, panting. “Tell me you are mine,” he demanded, one hand coming up to grope roughly at your breast, squeezing with a hand still gloved. You could feel him trembling, fighting to hold back from plunging back into you as he waited for your reply.

There was no point in denying it. Even if you lied, he would know. “I’m yours.” It was an answer, and promise, and a shackle, all wrapped in one weighty word.

You cried out, throwing your head back as he thrust back into you. Your fingers curled, nails digging into his shoulders at the fullness. He gasped your name in reply. And you could feel him, all of him; the push and pull of his cock as he rutted into your cunt; the desperate squeeze of his arms as he held you too him; and, through the bond, through the Force, his need for you, the pleasure he now took from your body and the love, the overwhelming desperate love that surged out towards you.

You were more at risk at drowning from that love than from the water that surrounded you.

It was too much. Too much and too long since you had allowed yourself to give in to the bond, give in to him; to let the connection you needed as much as you needed air to flourish.

You felt yourself spiraling quickly towards release, and then it was upon you, all your nerves lighting up with surges of color and pleasure as you clung to him, crying his name again and again as you came. In your pleasure, as he was connected to you with both body and soul, you lost yourself, not sure where you began and he ended. You could feel how your release, the how white hot clench of your cunt around him pulled from him his own orgasm. Felt the heat of his seed in your womb. Heard the long, low moan of your own name falling from his lips. Just as you were falling. Through space. Through time. Falling and falling, but safe in the knowledge he would catch you. That he would always catch you.

When the almost endless aftershocks of pleasure finally receded, and the haze cleared from your vision, you found yourself still cradled against him. He had one arm wrapped firmly around your middle, supporting you in the water where you had gone completely boneless. His other hand was cupping your face. He had removed his gloves, at some point, and now he was gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

His eyes were warm, none of the anger that he had brought with him remained. And a soft smile, small, but there, lifted one side of his mouth. The rare appreance of happiness made him look younger, like a single smile could strip back the hate and anger that had twisted his soul into something you could barely recognize.

“Kylo.” His name nothing more than a whisper between you had him sliding his hand from your cheek to curl in your hair, guiding you lips to his again.

The kiss was slow, almost delicate. A sudden relearning of a past long gone now that your walls had been breached. It could have even been considered romantic, if you didn’t feel twitch of his cock, now softened, against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.

Your own lips twitched up into a ghost of a smile as you separated and gazed up at him, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was fully hard again. One round was never enough to sate his desire.

His own smile grew in response to yours, as if he knew what you were thinking. His arm squeezed possessively where it still wrapped around you. “Stay with me tonight. Let me take my time with you. Besides, I doubt Hux will desire you tonight after I already had my way with you.”

Even in the heat of the room, you felt cold, as if ice were cascading down your spine. His words were light and carefree, no doubt meant to be some sore of awkward teasing. But they shocked you back to reality, shattered the illusion that perhaps things were as they once had been; as if Ren forgot that he was the reason that Snoke commanded you to seduce the General in the first place.

Ren still smiled, even as he felt you tense in his arms, even as contentment gave way to confusion and then to panic. You were pulling away, drawing back into your shell of simmering resentment. You reached out to the Force, and pushed. It was unexpected, and Ren lost his footing, falling back into the water, head going under.

When he emerged, sputtering and shaking his head like some sort of oversized dog, you were already ascending the steps of the pool. You held out your hand, and the towel you had left on a stool near the pool leapt from its spot and flew into your hand. You wasted no time wrapping it around you, a physical barrier to accompany the emotional one you were hastily rebuilding.

“My love,” Ren’s words were a plea; for you to stay; for you to forgive him; for you to love him as you once had.

“General Hux is off ship at the moment, My Lord. Fortunately I shall not be entertaining either one of you tonight. Although, of the two of you, the General’s company is always the more enjoyable.” You words were quick and sharp, the killing blow to whatever bridge had begun to form over the rift between you.

You didn’t look back. Even now, you still could never bear to see the soul deep anguish that was only too plain to see on his face when you rejected him like this. When you rejected his love.

Love. His love had once been all you needed. His fall changed that. You were no Sith, but you could understand the anger that Snoke encouraged his apprentice to embrace, for the strength it provided. You embraced the anger now too. Love. You could not deny that you still loved Kylo Ren. But it was no longer the pure innocent love of your youth. This love, as destined as it was, as lasting as it would be, was no longer pure. Hate, anger, love; all bound up in a gordian knot of pain.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel his despair. And as he stood there, a dripping black shadow in the middle of the now still water, you knew he could feel yours.

[wonkastarshine]

I’ve been thinking a lot about CATCF today. 18 years has passed since it was released. I was four years old when my mom rented a copy of it for me and my sisters. It was an instant moment of connection and love at first watch. Now, I’m graduating college next month and I still can’t believe just how much I love this film. I was obsessed in middle school probably to a fault. On its 10th anniversary, I watched the film ten times 🥵 it was an all consuming obsession and one that did cost me time and friends.

I put my love away for the film as I went into high school. I gained other interests and got into other movie series. I graduated high school and went to college. COVID hits. In all the chaos and confusion, I felt a pull to watch what used to be my favorite movie. I was very scared to go back. What if I didn’t like it? What if I only liked the movie because I had such a crush on Wonka? I pushed play on Netflix and just from the first forty seconds… I was home. The factory is a second home to me. A place of creativity, freedom and expression. I’m no longer afraid to tell people this is my favorite movie. At school, people have been asking me all week what my thoughts on the Wonka prequel are (that’s for another post). My friends watch the movie with me every year on my birthday. We have a “Wonka Wall” in our apartment where there is a picture of everybody who has visited our place and put on the Wonka glasses that I own. It’s glorious and liberating to be free in your interests. True friends will never judge your passions, only fuel it.

So I sit here in bed and ponder on a full 18 years of this movie in existence. It’s reputation is still split. A love it or hate it kinda flick. But the love for it grows every day. Seldom is a movie of this size and success considered a cult classic, but sometimes I feel like CATCF is reaching there. As cinema gets less and less creative, I think people are realizing we took this movie for granted. The production design, costumes, practical effects, the music, the atmosphere… it’s just so uniquely Burton that I can’t help but smile like a lunatic when I watch this movie. It’s just so great. I know this film isn’t a masterpiece by any means, but it’s just the movie I needed when I was 4 and whenever I was down and lonely in my life.

Depp’s Wonka is an acting masterclass and it was heartbreaking to 9 year old me when I discovered he wasn’t real, but played by an actor. He seemed so vividly alive to me as child. He existed out there somewhere to 4 year old me. If I searched hard enough to find him… but he was just truly inside my soul. I also grew up with an overbearing and abusive father. I envied the fact that Wonka could just run away and become whatever he wanted. I wanted to escape to the factory the way Wonka did. The man isn’t real, but the lessons I’ve learned have been. Never let the past dictate the present. Never let the limitations of the world limit your creativity. Never let other people’s judgment get you down. Also ✨dress stylishly✨

Anyways this has gone on too long lol and I’ll probably regret this post in the morning. But I’m just full of love right now for this film and I’m so grateful every day that my mom went to Blockbuster and chose this film to take home.

Happy birthday Charlie and the Chocolate Factory🍫

[thatoneterrariaplayers-vault]

Dangerous Moons - Chapter 3 - First day on the job

The soft patter of rain on the metal roof is what wakes me. Evelyn is probably still asleep so I should be quiet. Peace, another thing I took for granted back then, the ability to sit with my own thoughts and just exist without disruption or fear. That peace however is short lived because Evelyn shoves open her front door like it has murdered her family. I honestly thought she was sound asleep. “Rise and shine sleepy! We have a whole day of preparations to get to.” she exclaims.

ll I can manage are the sounds of discontent at the sounds of my now disturbed peace. Old habits die hard, especially the ones involving sleeping and being lazy. “What time is it anyway?” I ask. “Almost time for lunch.” she says. “I’ve been asleep that long huh?” “It honestly looked like you needed it. Anyways you should get yourself ready and I’ll debrief you over some food.” Evelyn lends me a spare jacket and some clothes along side a pair of hefty boots. After the shower I come out and smell eggs and bacon sizzling away on the stove. Sitting down on the couch Evelyn brings out the food and begins to tell me what she has planned,“Simply put, it looks like our time on this planet is done.” “I just got here!” I protest. “So did I! Its in the nature of the job. Back to the plan however. My employer just told me where I can find my target.” she rambles on while biting her food. “Your target is who now exactly?” “Mob boss Daren Galcharon, a local big shot who has ties within syndicate, his gang acting as a police force on this dump of a planet because the actual law enforcement is to lazy and too underpaid to deal with him. This obviously allows him to supersede the actual laws and regulations while the real cops do jack.” she says, “What’s your fighting capacity like anyways?” “Oh, me? I honestly prefer fighting with swords.” “Swords? Among the brilliant weapon choices in these galaxies and you chose the way of the blade!” she protests. “You’re one to talk. Your’e not any better with those archaic pistols you wield.” I protest in return. “Please at least tell me you are good with those rust sticks of yours.” “Rust sticks! I am offended by such, you would never know the time and dedication it takes to not only train but also maintain these master class weapons, without enough training some could become good enough to block bullets even.”,I’m pissed and I’ve just woken up, “I prefer the elegance of my blade better than the barbaric bite of your bullets.” Evelyn casts me a glance that screams, ‘are you out of your mind?’ Evelyn’s facial expressions changes drastically, from her frustration with me to now looking sad and pensive. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask not expecting any solid answer. “Oh nothing, you just remind me of someone I knew.”,she says, ”Anyways, time to get yourself up and out of that bed and get ready, we have some stuff we need to do, before needing to leave.” She hastily gathers herself off the couch, taking the emptied plates of food along with her. “Hey Evelyn, why are you so eager to work with me? A stranger you met in the dark hours of the night.”,I ask. “Well firstly, we all hate Gary. At least I do and therefore the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Secondly. My previous partner was a real damn idiot and got himself killed, while you seem like the adequate replacement, nimble, fast to react to changes. Curious.” “How did he pass?” I feel as though this question might have struck a nerve but I am to curious not to ask. “Tried to double cross me. I showed him though, put two bullets in the dirtbags hands and then one last one with the infamous big one to his ugly head.” she flaunts her draw by spinning a mug from her hip, “But you won’t try to cross me now will you?” “Because the stranger with no family or place to call home will betray their only beacon of hope? Very realistic.” my sarcasm steeps the musty rooms atmosphere. “Anyways, we will have to go out and get some supplies for the ship”

“Well look what we have here?”, the man’s rough voice could be heard from outside on the roof of the warehouse. Peeking through the large skylights up there we could see the interrogation scene. In the centre of the floor is a chair where one poor man is tied onto it a bag over his head. “Let’s show this young man here, what happens when you mess with me.” Evelyn nudges me gently, “The man you saw, he is our target. A powerful close range fighter. Any questions?” “Just one. Why do you not just shoot him from over here with the big gun?”, I ask. “Well you see. It’s super loud. Also the bullets are expensive. I choose to save these for rainy days.”, Evelyn answers. Suddenly our attention is diverted to the sound of Galcharon breaking what might have been that guy’s jaw. “He’s not surviving this is he?”, I ask. “Probably not. I wonder what the poor guy did to deserve this fate.”, Evelyn seems eager to drop in and begin this mission. Time for my first taste of her combat personality. Galcharon’s arms looked like logs with barbells attached to their ends. Both Veins and muscles are displayed in high definition. His fist rained down on the man’s frail body, each hit morphing the shape of it into an unrecognizable lump. Evelyn warns me, “Ready when you are.” “Right. Let’s do this.”

Crashing through the window we ride down with a wave of glass. The initial break announced our arrival as everyone gazed up to our entrance. Ripping the man of the chair Galcharon used him as a shield to block the initial assault of glass, while his two henchmen dashed away from the window. “And who the fuck might you be?” he asks. “Your worst nightmare!” Evelyn taunts. She really does not realize how terrible that line sounded out loud right? Evelyn spins her revolver from her hip sending off a shot. It hits something alright, not our target but the poor sap in the chair. “interesting, very interesting. I never did expect the great Evelyn Deadeye to hunt me down but my goons did mention something about you being close.” he rants on. Evelyn casts me a gaze of confusion and anger. “Hey! Look at me when I talk to you.”, Galcharon demands, he has his gun drawn now, it looks puny in his mammoth hands. “let’s get this done with.”,Evelyn says while cracking her knuckles. My swords have been itching for a fight. Before the confrontation began, Evelyn handed me a semi-automatic pistol capable of supressing a nearby target, she referred to it as a ‘M1911’, not only is it somehow heavier than both my swords combined but it is also about as useful as a dull kitchen knife in terms of efficiency. More harmful to me than my target due to its terrible weight balance and the magazines holding barely any ammunition. It really does not help that Galcharon’s skin may as well be made of thick steel. I imagine the projectiles this thing fires will physically bounce off his reinforced nanite skin. I see her to taking cover nearby, the bosses goons had opened fire down the middle of the warehouse, the wave of pulse-fire would certainly fry anyone caught in its wake. When the gunfire stops Evelyn makes her first move. A quick shot with her weapon taking out one of the unsuspecting gunmen. Before the fools could realise it Evelyn had already changed her shooting angle so that, after the remaining four finished shooting at where she was last she could skilfully take out another two. Watching her work was unlike anything I’ve ever seen, the absolute grace in her movements, the skilful aim of her guns where each shot found its target with deadly precision as she dodged and weaved between bullets and obstacles. Entranced, I barely noticed the six foot tall train of a man Galcharon approach me ready to beat my face and body into a different shape. Bracing, the screech from my blades as the punch pushed my heels into the ground pushing me a distance across the floor. “So, who are you girl? Another one of her toys. Who she will just dispose of when she’s bored or tired of you?”, he asks. His words make me unsteady and he sees that, taking full advantage of my confusion and inaction. “Or, you are someone more special, more valuable than she has realised yet.” he taunts, “No matter you will both be back where you belong in due time.” Then, the world went dark. As I drift once again into unconsciousness.

My head is throbbing in pain as I awake in a strange location. I can feel the whirring of an engine, the steady vibrations can be felt through the floors. Evelyn is sitting on a chair in a corner of the room in total silence. “Look who’s finally awake. That guy really knocked you out cold! You have been out for hours.”, Evelyn says rising out of her chair, she walks over to the bed and sits at the foot of it. “I suppose you and I have many things to talk about now.” her tone is condescending, “Like who you really are, miss violet.” “What’s their to talk about, I got knocked out by the guy.” “That’s not what I want to talk about, it is actually what happened just after you got knocked out. See the boss mentioned something intriguing, so intriguing I had to delay his murder to question him and he revealed to me something shocking to me.” “What is this about Evelyn?” “Who are you really running from?” Evelyn leans closer to me,”And what makes you special that the Syndicate’s bounty on you is larger than any ever seen for some common criminal.”

Evelyn is pacing around the room, “Any answers runaway?” My heart and brain are racing for an answer, any answer. Anything but the truth. “Truth is.” my body freezes at the thought of it. “Truth is what! Knowing your Syndicate property puts so much more at risk! You are currently the galaxies most sought after woman and I’m the one who so happens to be taking care of her. I knew your face looked familiar too I just could not remember from where I saw it from.” I try to muster the courage for words but all that can come out are the silent cries for help. “Look, Violet. I won’t just toss you to the damn dogs like that, It’s beneath me really, but I can’t help but feel betrayed that you would skip out such a huge detail about yourself. I can tell you’ve been through it, especially with that prosthetic arm of yours.” “You don’t have to help me. All I am is trouble for you in reality.” “It’s not about whether or not you are trouble.” Evelyn’s words resonate with something Inside me, “I used to be like you, in parts I still am, my past is filled with troubles too. I’ve faced most of them being out here, the vastness of these stars allow one to really connect with yourself and reflect. That and the countless of bastards I murdered for what they did to me.” “Are you wanted by the Syndicate too?” “No but maybe I’ll tell you that story another time when I’m ready myself to reface those fears.” Evelyn’s words sound almost regretful. Then without warning, she embraced me in a warm hug. It’s a strange feeling, I’ve grown accustomed to being grabbed and tossed around by cold hands. I’m not very proud of what I have done to get here, those I had to kill. I can’t really help myself at this point, holding it in has become a burden and the tears start to fall. “It’s fine to cry now, you’re safe here.” safety, her words pierce the regrets and doubts of my past. Perhaps finally I can start again and figure out what to do with myself. I don’t remember when I drifted to sleep that day but when I did, I felt the warmth and smell of her body.

[schumigrace]

The Lighthouse

two months before my 18th birthday, my mother, auntie and uncle picked me up from college and sat me down in the back of the old renault my uncle had had since I was 6. my mother took my hand in hers, but the icy touch that I came to associate with her presence did little to soothe my shaking. I was sure someone had died, or was severely ill. she told me with a blank stare that her and my dad were getting a divorce.

I knew this, of course. not because anyone had told me, but because there hadn't been an inch of love in my childhood home since the day they came back from a weekend in London 3 years earlier. I still haven't asked what happened.

I asked to go home. she said don't be silly. my uncle called my dad a daft cunt and my auntie cried. I asked to go home.

my uncle started the engine, I took my hand away from my mother. he turned the car in the wrong direction so I opened the door and jumped. my auntie cried louder, I got the bus home.

it took one look at my dad for me to burst into tears, I'll never take for granted the warmth of his hug that night. he made tea and we sat on the sofa and he put on an old episode of doctor who. she came back and sat opposite us. we said nothing, she just stared. they slept in separate beds for what was probably the 300th night in a row.

my mother wanted the house, my dad said okay. we started looking for flats together, somewhere he could walk to work and we could keep the dogs. there wasn't anywhere.

the next week, I stopped listening to music. if I listened to music I wouldn't be able to hear every word they spat at eachother. I spent every second sat on the top step, staring at nothing. the frost had begun to settle on the walls and in the old wooden floorboards beneath me.

two days later I came home from school to a police van outside my house. I stood there for what felt like hours, wondering what would happen if I ran. if none of it would be real.

she had locked the front door when he tried to leave. took a kitchen knife to her own arm when he picked up his keys and called the police. the police believed her. I believed my long-faded bruises that throbbed at the site of dad leaving police custody the next day.

I stopped going to school after that.

I got on a plane on my 18th birthday without telling anybody. I flew to Reykjavik and walked for hours in the cold of winter. I told my life story to the mural of a bird on the side of Grotta Lighthouse. it still makes me laugh to this day that that lighthouse carries more of my burdens than my own parents.

then I flew home.

I didn't leave the house for longer than a few hours for the next two years. I drove 4-hour round trips to uni every week because leaving full time meant not knowing. I wasn't sure I'd be able to ever go back if I stayed away too long, but I couldn't risk another police van outside my childhood sanctuary.

mam didn't want the house anymore, too many memories she said. but she stayed. my dad slept with a door stop under his door every night, I slept on the kitchen floor with the dogs.

a young couple live in that house now. they had a baby yesterday, and have taken her home this evening. I hope they sleep without a door stop, in the comfort of a warm bed. I hope she sees her parent's intertwined hands and believes them. I hope that she doesn't flinch whenever her mother combs her hair. I hope she never feels the chill from the layer of frost that settled in the floorboards.

I was so angry that they stayed. they both stayed. they chose to live in that house of hatred and violence and bitterness. they stayed for me, they said. so that I wouldn't have to leave my childhood home.

[fizzingwizard]

personal

My dad's shared a thing on Facebook which is about relationships, and how they aren't all heart eyes and rainbows all the time, and it takes more than just luck to make them last, it takes real commitment and understanding... All good so far.

My problem with it is it lists certain things couples in strong relationships do: compromise, overlook faults, forgive each other, endure problems.

All STILL good with me... if only it took care to mention as well something like "face one's own shortcomings" "divide the load fairly" "make an effort for each other's sake."

I know from watching my parents that just suffering together, because of each other, isn't enough to make a relationship last. Granted, my mom did a lot more of the compromising and overlooking of faults - my dad didn't bend on a lot, and he didn't often have anything to forgive my mom for.

But the thing is, my mom stayed married to him for over 25 years. The last ten, she told me, weren't great. The divorce was coming. However, she never knew it until the last moment - the moment when she finally decided. Before then, she always forgave, always overlooked, and endured endured endured.

When she decided to end it at last, she STILL gave my dad one last chance: she asked him to take her on a date. She wasn't expecting fireworks and the keys to the city. Just to be treated with attention, and made to feel wanted.

Well, my dad showed up for the date... And that's about all he did. There was no effort. It seemed like just another night. So she realized, this is what the future will be like if I stay with him. He's not going to change.

She put up with so much over the years. She wasn't a total pushover - she DID ask for help. My dad would always make an attempt at it... I can't really call it making an effort though. He would do whatever it was up to his standards, which could be pretty low, never to hers, which were NOT unreasonably high.

It's very important to see each other as flawed individuals and love each other in spite of our faults. But if you overlook every fault, out of love, and the other person doesn't take into consideration how their faults hurt you, then you'll just go on hurting indefinitely. That's what I'm saying. People can't change certain things, but other things they can, or at least they can figure out a new system or way to ensure their weak points aren't so crushingly heavy on their partners.

At home, my dad had an office. It was very small. But it was all his. It was covered in his stuff: train sets, Beatles paraphernalia, pictures of his youth. He had a keyboard and a computer and his guitar and he would make music in there, or watch TV, for hours and hours, only coming out to eat dinner. Meanwhile, my mom didn't have any space for herself. Why couldn't she have their bedroom? Well, because my dad insisted on a very large bed. In his defense, he's a big guy. But I'm not kidding when I say that aside from that bed, there was barely enough room for one person to shimmy in and out of the room. It was NOT my mom's space, and she often didn't even sleep in it because of my dad's snoring (OR his white noise machine).

We all knew my mom wanted her own space. She told us. We had a basement that was mostly finished and didn't get used that much, so she decided to make herself a space down there. What my dad should have done was prioritize that. My mom hadn't had any space to herself at all since having kids - we were teens by then and my parents had owned the house for a few years. She worked and took care of us and did the errands and cooked the meals and and and... My dad pretty much just went to work and came home most of the time. (Not to make him sound lazy: he also did the mowing, maintenance work around the house and most of the driving. The thing is the stuff my mom did was daily. His was extras that cropped up only at certain times.) It should have been obvious to my dad that my mom didn't only deserve her own space, she needed it. But he left it to her. Meanwhile, various things going on, house renovations, etc, meant that making my mom's space got pushed back and back and back, and the available space as well got smaller and smaller. In the end all she had was a desk in the wide open basement that anyone could come to any time, whereas my dad's office had its own door.

It's stuff like that which gets me. It would have been an act of love to notice your partner needs something and help them get it. But to my dad, it was no different than my mom saying she wanted a manicure: just for fun, and while of course he supported her in it, it was totally on her to go and get.

We kids followed my dad's example in regards to my mom. When she was upset, he would line us up and make us listen to her yell and cry. This didn't happen often (years later she blamed PMS, and after said migraines - honestly though I think it was just way too much cumulative stress and no support). But when it did, the idea was pretty much just for us to listen to her. And then nothing would change. At first we could say it was because my dad had a full time job and was tired enough himself. But he lost the job and never really had one after that. He was just home. And then it was, well, he's depressed. But it continued even when he got pretty comfortable. My dad is interesting in that he can be very sentimental and reflective at times, but always has a strong enough self-love to power through. (This describes me too. It's an aspect of myself I like and am grateful for. But, as much as I do love my dad, I also really, really struggle with every way I resemble him.) And we are talking many years here, during which time my brother's mental health collapsed too, and my dad didn't help by always getting in fights with him. My mom wound up supporting my dad and my brother pretty much by herself. She did her best to support me too. But I was at college and tried hard to just not need support.

My dad definitely was capable of doing more for my mom the whole time. He just didn't. His life was comfortable and convenient, and he considered it her job to make sure, if she needed something, she would ask for it. But when she did ask, it led to nothing, or only an attempt at it. (I'll never forget the year he got her a snuggie for Christmas and she was like -___- and I gave her jewelry I picked out while considering her style and she liked it so much that he got jealous :P) At that point, in his eyes, it was her job to not only ask for things, but to make sure he knew just how much she wanted it. Like there are degrees to requests from your partner. I mean, sure, "I'm having a heart attack and need to be rushed to the hospital" is definitely more pressing than "I need more help with housework." But that housework request still isn't something you can just ignore until your partner starts nagging (aka having the audacity to ask you again for what you didn't do the first time around), in which case you worm out of it or do as little of it as possible... I mean come on.

I so wish that as a kid I'd had more clarity about my parents' relationship. But they said everything was okay, and I didn't know how any other relationships looked, so I just believed them. My mom of course didn't want to bad mouth my dad to me. But I wish she would have been more honest while I was at least high school age. I loved both my parents and couldn't pick a side, but I could have been more understanding of how difficult it was for my mom on a daily basis. My mom is too nice to have said anything that would make me resent my dad. Not to mention, my dad, although he has many good points, is also perfectly good at making people resent him all by himself.

So yeah. Love is forgiving and enduring and all that. But it's NOT just getting steamrollered by a partner who says "Love is accepting me exactly as I am."

Geez, another memory: My brother was having a bad day during the worst years of his mental health problems. I guess he was 18 or 19 then. I was home from college for Christmas. I had spent every day listening to him and how he talked to us all, especially to my mom, who only ever supported him. I had been reading Captain Awkward religiously, trying to learn how to support my brother, while also supporting my parents, and not be ignorant. I told my mom about a Captain Awkward post that talked about letting your loved one with mental illness know how their treatment of you is affecting you in a loving and understanding manner. It pretty much said, being supportive isn't the same as being a doormat. I mean this stuff lasts years - decades. Getting angry and blaming the person who is going through so much is never the way, but there were some example phrases that could be used to try to meet in the middle and create some peace for a while. Well, I convinced my mom to try it. I heard everything she said to my brother. Her voice was low, gentle, and not accusing. My brother shouted so loudly it made me jump all the way in the other room, and send my mom racing down the hallway in shock. My brother came after roaring about how no one understood him or cared about him. For him, that's where he was at, I guess. He's doing much better now, and we've loved him and have been proud of him the whole time.

But. Please think of my mother. Who was going through that sort of thing constantly, without so much as an apology. She's given her heart, her time, and even her money to take care of her family whenever we were in need, and she really never got anything much back. Even me, although I've been one of the fortunate ones not to have mental illness, and to be able to take of myself for the most part. I used to dream of making some money and sending my mom on the trip to Italy she's always dreamed of. I have no money. I chose to teach pre-K like an idiot. I love it but the salary is peanuts and no one's had a raise in ten years. And I lost so much of my savings just paying off student loans. It'll take a miracle to get me to a point of financial stability where I'm able to do that kind of nice thing for my mom while she's still independent and able to go do it. As a teenager I didn't understand why money was so important, because I had no idea how much of it you need just to get by, let alone have any extras. And I developed a personality that is just the worst possible for selling anything. I can't even sell my school lol. I can't lie at all. If I think something is stupid I can't hide it. In that way I'm my own worst enemy every single day.

I'm making myself upset now :P

[lycorogue]

Latest Story: Never Take This for Granted

Who’s ready for probably the shortest ficlet I’ve written for this fandom?

Well, I woke up this morning with (more-or-less) these exact thoughts in my own head, and something told me that Adrien would probably have them too. Maybe it's because I see myself in him a little bit. Maybe because I think he'd learn the same lessons I did with regards to losing a parent. I lost my dad roughly the same age that Adrien lost Emile. While my mom did not end up neglectful, abusive, manipulative, nor a terrorist, much like Gabriel, my mom did make it well known how hurt she was to have lost her spouse. I felt the pain of her realizing she lost the love of her life too early in life (she wasn't even 40) and after far too few years together. I praise my mom for the strength she has shown through the years and how – unlike Gabriel – her love for my dad made her stronger and helped carry her forward.

I know from experience that loves cannot last forever, and may very well be ripped from you too soon. Which is probably why I had these thoughts (ones I frequently have, if I'm honest) when I awoke, and why I feel Adrien might have them too. So, enjoy my morning thoughts, as told by Adrien.

(If you want that extra ambiance, I had the song "Ceilings" by Lizzy McAlpine stuck in my head while I was writing this)

Summary: Adrien awakes overwhelmed with gratitude to be married to Marinette.

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 420

Status: completed one-shot

Continue reading below, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

Never Take This for Granted

Adrien awoke before their alarm. The gentle sunlight through their curtains was enough to stir him. The laundry list of things that needed to be done raced through his mind, and he debated taking advantage of the early start to the day.

Then Marinette softly snored beside him.

With a smile, he knew his place was in bed. At least, for a little while longer. He shifted so he could spoon his wife; careful not to move her or wake her. He rested his hand on her hip, and closed his eyes to the world so he could soak her in with his other senses.

They had been together for twenty years, but it still felt like not enough time. He knew that twenty years was both an amazing gift and just a drop in a hat. The duality of it being exceptionally long and tragically short. He needed another twenty years. Forty. Sixty. Eighty! No matter how long they had, it would always be too short.

“Please,” he silently prayed. He wasn't sure to whom, but to any and every Greater Power there might be. He wordlessly screamed his plea to the cosmos. “Please, never let me take this for granted. Have me always be comforted by her body heat against me. Let me always find her quiet breathing soothing. Let my hand always feel at home on her hip. Let her smell always lull me. Let the fact that I wake up with her beside me always amaze me a little bit. Let me feel lucky that I have her in my life; always. Forever. Please, please. Don't ever let me take her for granted. Let me memorize every morning I have beside her.”

He wanted to squeeze her. Hold her closer. Never let her go. Prove to himself that she was there and real and not going anywhere.

But he couldn't chance waking her. He couldn't chance ruining this moment. Clinging tight to her would never improve what he had in that instance.

So, he comforted himself with his legs tucked within the nook of hers, and his hand on her hip. That was enough. That grounded him. That was the proof he needed that she was there and he'd be alright for another day.

The sun flooded the room in a golden glow. Adrien didn't see it though. He kept his eyes closed, focused on the warmth of his wife beside him, and fell back asleep until the alarm rudely interrupted their quiet slice of paradise.

.

** Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you want me to tag you on any of my writing updates**

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

[charmante-mp3]

Devilish Teaser - Prologue

Hello Atinys of Tumblr! My brain has been wrapping around this x reader content for a while so I thought I'd release a teaser and see how it went before I continue. I've literally never had any content on Tumblr so oh well this is the first. I'm gonna go ahead and preface warnings before anyone continues: - This is a demon!Ateez x angel!reader (not for long however) so there is talk of religion. As an atheist I really don't refer to 'God' or Jesus but I do not mean any harm for religion in this writing while I use real religious names this is purely fiction! - There is a high chance of gruesome/slightly violent depictions, potential future smut (haven't really worked that out), def chance of suggestive themes. (Def not edited either)

Masterlist

---

Sharp (e/c) eyes snapped open, a faint yellow glow dispersing. The figure once lied in a white bed, now sat up taking in the surroundings. Their hands coming in contact with the fluffed feathers growing from their back. Eyes glowing in realization, they are a mere reincarnation of an angel before them. Yet, it differed from normal, the existence of their descent was entirely unknown.

The book felt heavy in my hands. The leather bounds indenting my hands. I sat in the library's corner’s restricted section, researching the opposite ends of our heavenly retreat. Certain closed off knowledge had piqued my interest recently, and they granted me access to this section. The eight hells are what us angels call hell’s leaders, while we have our higher power, they have the guard of seven sins. The eighth is a descendant of Azazel himself, a demon who almost caused the fall of my heavenly home, and they were plaguing my mind. 

Like myself and many others, the eight hells have descended from some of our greatest enemies. Lucifer was pride, Mammon was greed, Belphegor was sloth, Asmodeus was lust, Beelzebub was gluttony, Satan was wraith, and finally Leviathan was envy. I read on until I felt queasy, having my eyes on the terror they cause angels and humans all the same had sickened me. I quickly shut the book, stood up, and put it in its respective spot on the shelf. 

Once out of the library, I took notice of the darkened sky. Most of us would be asleep at this moment, but it was quite unnecessary. No one here in this realm truly needs to sleep, we don’t even have to eat or drink, but those from the lands below think differently. Angels, once humans, like to reminisce on the taste of foods and comfort of beds, so each home has bedrooms and we have stalls of food through our makeshift streets. My home is at the top of a tower, if you would like you can walk the treacherous steps, but I prefer to fly. Making use of the feathery wings on my back, I flew into my open walls I called home. Just as I landed comfortably, I was tackled down by who I could only assume was my friend. 

“Y/N! Tomorrow I start my training!” Ye’un said. Looking up at her unnatural golden eyes, I glared, disapproving her greeting.

“Sorry sorry,” She said, helping me up.

“Ye’un I’m happy for you, and I know you’re excited, but please spare me of the ground. I’m gonna be another early reincarnation because you’ll give me a heart attack,” I said as I regained my footing.

“That reminds me! Have you found out your origins yet?” She asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Nope, there was nothing in the-” A dizziness halted my answer.

“Y/N?” Was the last thing I heard before darkness surrounded me.

I awoke in a place unrecognizable to me; it wasn’t my usual white and gold room. Instead, it was darker with golds and reds. To my left I could see a figure walk into the room, I was conversing with them but I heard no words. Something blurred their face and distinct features. It wasn’t until the figure wrapped me in their arms did I see the black scaled wings. I awoke once more with Ye’un looking down at me with fear in her eyes.

[wherejoshwent]

In the past month or so I have been feeling happy, making a special effort to not take the things and people in my life for granted. This was triggered by a conversation with a friend, which made me realise that the things we think will be our problems never turn out to be the saddest things in our lives. Now, if I am getting hung up on some work issue or worrying about the logistics of my relationship, for example, I think to myself, I should be so lucky that these are the only things I have to worry about. I know there will likely be times ahead where I will have real, deep sadnesses, simply because they are a part of life, and I’ll look back on all the fretting I experience now and see it as trivial.

Today I went to see my Dad. I haven’t been to see him in months, so I was surprised when the receptionist at his home did not ask who I was there to see when I came in, only got someone to take me up straight away. I did not have to give his name, and then when they didn’t recognise who I was referring to, to clarify I meant Horse, which is the name he asks people there to call him. This was a relief.

When I knocked on his door he asked who was there. When I said my name he told me to come in but then looked warily at me from his chair. ‘Is it really you, Is?’ I noticed that he had torn out of the wall the neat unit installed there for him to buzz for help from the nurses, its wires dangling behind him. His guitar had been snapped at the neck and lay broken alongside one of the walls.

He was less talkative than usual. He was experiencing great tooth pain; when I said he ought to ask for a dentist he said there was nothing wrong with his teeth. He told me the problem was his mouth had been filled with metal fillings, which ‘they’ were using to administer electric shocks to him. He kept opening his mouth wide, pulling it wider with his fingers for me to see, his eyes furious. I was surprised that when I told him that the people in the home were there to care for him and help him, he calmly told me it was simply the way he saw it. He wasn’t willing to debate.

We talked about the nice things about where he lived. I told him I thought it was glamorous to have an ensuite bathroom, and he told me what he’d like to get an interior designer to do with the place. He’d have a chaise longue by the door, and some sort of wall or screen so people couldn’t see his bed as soon as they opened the door. He thought he might find a lamp for his bedside at the car boot sale. ‘When I was there the other day, I was looking for… what was I looking for?’ he said. We looked out his window, across the allotments there. ‘It would be nice if I could just take a walk, but there’s only a lift to get down, which would be great if it works, but it doesn’t work, does it?’

I felt guilty when I realised the lie the nurses must have told him; more so that I didn’t correct him. My dad lives on the 3rd floor of a home for adults with complex needs. Nobody may leave or enter without a nurse’s pass. As far as I am aware, my dad has not left that corridor since he came to live in the home about a year and half ago.

There had been a question I wanted to ask him. It was something I had been wondering about recently. I knew I could ask him with the safety that he would not remember me having asked after I said it. My parents married when they were 23 years old after having known each other for 6 months. It was my mother’s second marriage. My father left 11 days after they were wed, but my mother was able to persuade him to come back to her. But he always had a bag packed under the bed. So I wanted to ask him, if you could go back and do your life again, would you still get married and have children?

He paused and considered the question. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Not necessarily in that order, but I would.’ This was a great relief to me. That my dad did not regret having had us as part of his life. I had, despite my guilt and sense of betrayal at doing so, recorded this conversation on my phone. When I listened to it back when I got home, I could hear another patient sobbing loudly from another room.

My Dad is only 57 years old. When I look at this photograph, which is in his room, of him and his mother with my sisters and me, it gives me real bodily pain. To look at us all there, oblivious of what was to come. His paranoia, his addictions, the physical harm that would come to his body as a result of his psychotic episodes. I can’t help but just feel so unbearably sad.

I never imagined then what my parents’ involvement in my life would be when I was older. All my dreams were about myself, some including my sisters. My parents had split up long before I was old enough to consider them as people in their own right, and the futures they might have when taking care of my sisters and me was no longer their main priority. So I never imagined how he might be as a grandfather, for example. And by the time I would be old enough to consider this, I would already know that the care my father needed would be equal to or greater than the care a child needs. That makes me sad too, now — that even in my imagination there has never been a future with him in it participating as a father normally might. I feel so much grief tonight for that. For what I’ll never even be able to imagine.

[pbandjesse]

How do people work for 8 hours a day? I feel so beat up. I really hope I can settle out and not be so overwhelmingly exhausted when I get home. Because there are things for me to do!!! But I got home and I have been in bed for 3 hours. I have accomplished nothing. All I want to do is go to sleep. I might have to just start sleeping for an hour when I get home. I can spend every evening just laying here.

It didn't help that I was filled with anxiety last night. My mom asked me to call her and we talked about some stuff, things that would be sorted out. But when I get overly anxious about junk I start doing compulsive math in my head and on my phone. And it's like I don't do well with holding numbers in my head! It causes more stress!! But for some reason that's where my brain does and start trying to solve the problem with division. It's so dumb.

It made it really hard to sleep. But once I did it wasn't a bad sleep. I gave myself an extra 10 minutes when my alarm went off.

James had packed up my little lunch bag. I got dressed. I felt good. My hair was bothering me a little but it was fine. It would be a good day.

Me and James walked downstairs together. Had a smooch outside. And then we were both off.

I got to camp at 8 and jumped right into resetting my boxes in the art building. I would call my dad and we talked for a half hour which was good. Got some questions answered and some mysteries solved. It was also just nice to talk.

After I got off the phone with dad I got back to sorting out my boxes. I would get a call from Heather that she had forgotten her key at home and was just popping over to get her laptop. She was finishing up a grant and wanted to work at home so she would be distracted. Which was totally fair. But I would let her in and she said she would be back later.

It was chilly this morning. Which was lovely. I'm going to have to keep a fleece at camp or on my car again. I have my old Franklin institute hoodie in our car emergency bag, and I would wear that all morning. It wasn't perfect but it was comfortable.

I would finish up all my boxes. And sorted the new books I got. And then headed down to the office.

I would look at my to do list. And decided I would start working on the specialty lessons for next summer. This is probably going to take a while but I would at least start writing out some ideas.

I would also remember I wanted to make a gyn appointment. To finally get my IUD out. Which is so scary. I loved having my IUD, but getting it put in was one of the worst things that I've ever experienced. So I really really hope that it isn't as horrible. I also don't know what's going to happen after. I haven't had a period since 2017, not in a real way. So I'm planning on going and buying some of those period underwear? Technology has improved leaps and bounce probably. Well see what happens.

It was a huge issue making this stupid appointment though. Planned Parenthood only has one phone number for the whole state. But my laptop browser was to old to make an appointment?? I've never seen that before. So I had to download the app on my phone but I got it eventually. It did take over a half hour and was very frustrating but I got it done.

At 11 I drove up to low ropes to set that up for our program. And when I got back down to the office Celia and Sarah were coming in.

We chatted and I worked on the lesson research. Elizabeth had been out for a few hours searching for cleaner for the pool because something had gone wrong with the filter and the water looked green. But the pool supply place wouldn't deliver it before the wedding this weekend. But once she came back she told us that the Y leadership staff that was having a retreat at camp this week was our program group! None of us put that together. So we would have a little 11 person adult group. Which was just fine with us.

They wanted to start around 1230. So I ate my little lunch and then we headed over to the lodge.

The next hour and change was actually a lot of fun. We met them at the lodge. I have a little intro and introduced us to the group. And then we walked across camp.

Me and Sarah chatted with a few people in the front about how camp runs. Celia was making sure the slower walkers didn't get lost. They were a nice little group, but not very outdoorsy. But that was alright. We kept everyone together and made it to low ropes in one piece.

I lead the group in rules and safety. And then each of us were in charge of an element. I think we did a really good job encouraging and no one got hurt. They were fun. They each had what they called a "journey partner" and would support each other and it was very sweet.

Once they had all made it through the elements we went over to zip. I was trying my best to keep us on time.

I helped Sarah set up harnesses while Celia walked to the second tower to catch people. Some people were really nervous but everyone went and I was really proud of them. I had some nice chats about camp and art and stuff and it was good. They were a fun group.

After the last set went on the zip I told Sarah I was going to go out low ropes away and said goodbye to the group.

And after I put away low ropes Sarah and Celia met with at the top of the hill. Chloe drove over to say hi, and she said I can have more horse hair in two weeks. Amazing.

We walked back down to the office. Where they told me they both use hand soap to wash their faces. Horrifying. And when we got to the office Lou had brought us all hoagies! What a sweetie. I pulled off all the meat and enjoyed it. He also brought a beautiful peach cake to share with us. So sweet.

I was pretty exhausted at this point. But I would spend most of the next hour working on my specialty lessons. Heather and Elizabeth asked me if I could go pick up a 100 cup coffee percolator from the restaurant store. I've never been to a restaurant store! I decided to go in the morning since it's on the way. I hope it's a neat place.

I would finish up what I could and then at 4 I said goodbye and headed home.

And I was beat. I wasn't dizzy tired thankfully. But I was very much excited to go home.

There was a lot of traffic so I took a strange route home. But it was fine and I was home right after 430.

James was starting to make dinner but I wasn't hungry at all after the sandwich from Lou. So they said they would stop it now and make it later. I would go take a shower. And put on soft clothes. And James did their podcast. They have listener guests this week. So that's neat.

I would just lay in bed. I wanted to do stuff. But every time I tried to get up I was just so unhappy and dizzy I just had to lay back down. I just watched videos and read stuff on my phone. I hate feeling like I wasted the evening. But I also didn't rest. I need to actually sleep for an hour so I can be half way awake for most of the night. It's such a hard balance

James would finish up their recording and made us mozzarella sticks and a Caeser salad. They put grated parmesan on top and then also went and put some grated parmesan in sweetp's wet food. It was very silly. But I was feeling happy, despite how exhausted I feel.

Now the sun has gone down and we are getting ready for bed.

Tomorrow I have some to do's I hope to get off my list. I hope it doesn't exhaust me so badly. James says we can pull down the Halloween stuff and decorate a little tomorrow. I'm looking forward to that.

Sleep well everyone take care of each other.

[rex00700]

Yesterday i was greedy, lazy, and worthless

here’s my observations on my cycle of habits that keep me 4at

i was at the convenient store buying groceries for my dad. i even got myself a toy and diet coke to reward my own good behavior

the toxic addiction in my head:

“let’s just glance at the other candy bars. we just want to look. oh maybe something small. this will be the last time. oh look at the reese’s bar, we’ve wanted to try it for soooo long. let’s just try it, since we’ve never had one before. you’re craving sweets, so why don’t you just give in?”

ana would have said:

“we’re not going down the candy bar isle. we’re stronger than that. master your cravings”

1. i bought & ate the reese’s bar

even on the way home, i considered only having a bit of it, just moderation. i was good at first but i was a failure in the end.

when i got home, i knew i wanted to go out and i was craving something sweet

the toxic addiction in my head:

“you need protein if you’re going to go out. don’t start your fast yet, wait a little longer. you crave sweets, so why don’t you just give in?”

ana would have said:

“start your fast now. you know yourself you know you can handle it. master your cravings”

2. i had a protein yoghurt bowl

i went out and drank. i munched on fries at the bar. i was ok with this. i wish ana was with me so i wouldn’t have eaten any of my friends food, but the real damage came after

as i drove home, i was craving fast food

the toxic addiction in my head:

“you did good today, you can get some food. just a little bit. it won’t hurt anything. plus you worked out today. come on, just a bit of poison on your way home. you crave fast food, so why don’t you just give in?”

ana would have said:

“time to head home and shower and read and go to bed. remember - be a hot girl. resist your cravings and you’ll be better off, it will feel so good being lighter in the morning. master your cravings”

3. i went to mcdonald’s and got a large fry and mcflurry

i got home and wanted to stay awake and feed my cravings. i kept listening to my podcast and eating to justify staying awake to listen

the toxic addiction in my head:

“you want to keep listening to this podcast don’t you? just eat something, it won’t effect you. youre craving food, so why don’t you just give in?”

ana would have said:

“if you want to keep listening to your podcast, you need to do a workout. a light person would never lay in the bed and stay up and listen to a podcast and stuff their face. you will not do that you will not be that person. your cravings are stupid. master your cravings”

3. i ate my leftovers in bed at 2am

this morning i woke up late and groggy. i stayed in bed all day. i was unable to focus on class and work. i wasted a day.

i did not get out of bed early

i did not run

i did not do morning yoga

i did not shower

i did not pull tarot cards

i did not set up my workspace

i did not take notes and focus on keeping my job

i did not get dressed and make art of myself

i did not draw

i did not do my dailies in my planner

i did not nurture the magic in my life and was incapable of gratitude because i took my being for granted. all because of submission to my cravings, the constant ceaseless laziness against the toxic addictive poisons.

the poison won today. it took a day off my life that i’ll never get back.