#my room is a mess and everything is overwhelming and i can feel myself slowly deteriorating this shit is NOT FUCKING PRETTY AND CUTE AND FUN

[beeftaquito]

.

[lovelyverosika]

I keep thinking about his angel eyes

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: talk about self hate

A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Y/N POV:

I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.

The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.

Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.

Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.

Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.

Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.

In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."

My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.

Part 4

[satantica]

how haikyu boys would kiss you

you couldn’t go to bed without him. you were patiently waiting for his return from work by reading a book in a muffled light when you heard the door slam. you put the book on the nightstand near the bed as the door in the room opened. he looked exhausted, the tie half taken off, the top of the shirt unbuttoned, eyes extinguished. he slowly sat down across the bed and carefully put his hand on your ankle. he nervously exhaled as he squeezed your ankle a bit harder. you rushed to move closer to him taking his hand and making him look at you. he looked up in your eyes. there was no need for words. you could feel his desperate wish to forget about everything with you. he was tired and couldn’t ask more from you. the muffled light looked so good on him even though he was overwhelmed. your hand drew his head to you. your neck was covered with goosebumps as you felt his warm breath. he started kissing your neck slowly but desperately. he put all his gratitude and adoration in every kiss. your skin responded to every touch of his lips. it was so gentle, so careful and persistent at the same time as he was scared that you would disappear. he moved his hand from your ankle to the scapula pulling you closer. his lips held onto your skin longer with every time. he couldn’t get enough of you.

akaashi keiji, KEISHIN UKAI, osamu miya, oikawa tooru, TSUKISHIMA KEI, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, kenma kozume

you were studying for your midterm as he was sitting in an armchair reading some magazine. “it’s so cold here” he said unobtrusively. you smirked but didn’t look away from the papers “then put some clothes on.” you could feel his unsatisfied gaze at you. he put down his magazine and crossed his legs. “my love, can you bring me my hoodie? i would’ve done it myself but I don’t know where you put it. I think you could use a little break. I bet these papers got the best time of their existence by getting your undivided attention. your eyes shouldn’t work that hard.” you agreed with him and got up. your neck was a mess after sitting with all these notes for several hours. and as you were passing him he grabbed your hand making you fall onto his lap. “seriously, that was your plan?” you laughed. he grinned getting your hair behind your ear “not yet.” he raised his knee so you would lean on his chest. he moved his finger to your chin drawing your lips to his. “god, I missed them these hours” he said before kissing you impulsively, supporting your back with his free hand so you wouldn’t fall. after a while he would grab your other leg managing to get you completely sit on him.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME, terushima yuuji, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, morisuke yaku, goshiki tsutomu, yamaguchi tadashi, SAWAMURA DAICHI, suna rintarou

you both finally got home after exhausting party at work of yours. you two were a little tipsy as you thought it would help to take the stress off. and since when he hadn’t stop from commenting on everything and you hadn’t stop laughing at every his line. you finally took a break and said tiredly "oh gosh, I wish we didn’t have to change and just went to sleep like that.” he glanced at you while taking the shoes off and smiled. “alright.” he effortlessly lifted you in the air holding you under the arms. he carried you this way to the living room. he laid on the couch putting you on him. he was trying to get in the right position so you would feel comfortable. you tried to resist at first but finally let your head rest on his warm, giant chest. you’ve never felt this secure and safe. he patted your head softly, kissing it every time his hand got to your neck. when you fell asleep he couldn’t help it and carefully placed your hands closer to his head, so he would lovingly kiss them in order not to wake you up. this was the moment he wanted to carry with him everywhere for the rest of his life.

azumane asahi, BOKUTO KOUTAROU, haiba lev, wakatoshi ushijima, OSAMU MIYA, kita shinsuke, KENTARO KYOTANI, kageyama tobio

you were having breakfast and tried to concentrate on the amount of things you had to do today. “mood spoiled from the very start of the day?” he tilted his head surprised by how cute you looked. you frowned and put the phone away “just a list of things I got to do.” he smirked “am I on this list? oh fuck, I’m gonna be late.” he pulled your chair closer to him with his foot enjoying the view and then suddenly enfolded your face with both of his hands. he devilishly suffocated you with his lips not letting go of your face. it was so passionate as if he literally drank all the blood from your lips. he stopped as his hand was sliding from your cheek to your chin. he definitely was going to do all of that it again. but then he froze in millimeter from your lips and whispered “don’t forget to return me this one when I get back.” he left giving you an air kiss. oh, this man… what you had to do today by the way?

ATSUMU MIYA, tanaka ryuunosuke, KUROO TETSUROU, yamamoto taketora, tendou satori, OIKAWA TOORU, nishinoya yuu, suna rintarou

[silentglassbreak]

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Just having a lovely good time with this. We are getting there, I swear it. 😘 (I promise there’s method to my madness.) Also HEAVILY recommend listening to the chapter song title - especially toward the end of this chapter. Levitate by Sleep Token.

Warnings: No smut today. But I fucking cried writing this chapter, and I hope you do too (I'm so sadistic). Sadness. Graphic descriptions of vomiting and overall being sick. Fluffy, heartache chapter. OH and graphic depictions of violence and blood (in a dream setting, don't stress).

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @knivesforapro @diabolicdiatonics

Part 7 - Levitate

At what point do you start drawing lines in the sand? I asked myself that question over and over the past several weeks since the party. Who was fucking with who anymore? I'm certain neither of us really knew the answer.

Mileena was still seeing Justin, our mishap in the bathroom on the 4th being unspoken of again. It never happened. I kept trying to remind myself of that, each time I saw her, the only times our paths crossing being during pick-ups and drop-offs of Addison.

I had fully expected her to become scarce, but to my surprise, she was letting business go on as usual. Even being around more often. Part of me wanted to hope that meant she was slowly inching her way back to me, some undying need inside of her not being capable of keeping a distance. That thought was shut down, however, when Nick mentioned that he was asked to go on a double date with her, Laura, and the Ken doll (my favorite nickname for him).

That came about two weeks after the party, and I just shrugged it off, assuming that meant Mileena had truly forgotten about the bathroom, or was forcing herself to.

Still, she showed up, sometimes spending half an hour or more at the house when dropping off Addie, making small talk with me, once in a while even flirting. It was casual, comfortable, and for some reason, it didn't bother me to know that she was likely fucking that other guy. Something in my gut just told me to be patient. Good things come to those who wait.

So that is exactly what I did. I gave her room to exist, letting myself exist somewhere near her being good enough for me most days. In all honesty, the lack of pushing made some space for a very good friendship that we never gave the chance to grow before. Sure, the attraction was clear, but she started telling me things; things that I didn't get to hear before.

'Nick and Laura are gag-worthy. It's honestly kind of annoying.'

'I'm going to go back to work soon. I got a job offer, but the last two years off have been so heavenly.'

'I miss Washington. We need to take Addie up there to visit Dad.'

She kept throwing that word around. We. I never wanted to bring it up. Never wanted to spook her. Rather, I stood there and listened to her most times, smiling softly at her, loving the way the light filled her eyes when she was excited, or she came in close for a hug whenever she was sad. I took every second. I accepted it graciously, happy to exist.

Today, however, was not a good day. Today, I felt like a bin of hot, rancid, putrid garbage. We were stood in the green room of a venue in Buena Park, getting ready for a pop-up show, when I felt an overwhelming sense of nausea hit me. All day, I had felt off, but had brushed it off as the heat, stress from the show, and exhaustion hitting me all at once. I had slept most of the day, working to get myself out of the funk, trying like hell to prepare for the show, but I couldn't shake it.

Now, feeling my insides threatening to make their way out, my eyes darted around the room frantically, eyes falling on a nearby trash can. I bolted for it, collapsing onto my knees before emptying everything in my stomach into the bin, heaving painfully.

After successfully spitting out the last of the vomit, I sat back on my heels, trying to breathe deeply. My episode had caught Jolly's eye, and he ran over, face cringing at the sight.

"Dude, what the fuck?" I pointed at a stack of napkins on the table behind him, and he handed me a few. I wiped my mouth.

"I don't know, man. I was good, and then I just had to hurl." I was trying to determine if I was done puking, my stomach still rolling around.

"Eat something bad?" Nick had joined us now, hands in his pockets.

"Fuck, man, no idea. I guess." I shrugged, tossing the napkins in the can.

"Do we need to cancel? If so, we need to let Matt know now." Jolly's voice was concerned.

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm good. I just need a minute."

"You sure?" Nick raised a brow at me, and I stood up.

"Yeah. You guys got any gum?"

Four songs. I made it that far. I worked so hard, swallowing all of the saliva building in my mouth, keeping my face even. But as soon as we hit Glass Houses, and I had to start screaming, I had to run off stage, emptying my stomach once again into a trash can off of the side. I had thrown my mic hastily on the stage, making it clear that my abrupt exit wasn't planned.

Jolly, still vigorously playing the music, repeating the same riff, stepped off to the side and gave me a glance. I was kneeling, gagging dryly into the can. I saw him motion for everyone to stop. The music and lights cut sharp, and I leaned my head on the cool rim of the metal can, breathing heavily.

Folio stood over me. "Noah?" I looked up at him.

"I can't. I'm so fucking sorry."

He was shaking his head. "No, bro. You're fucking sick."

My body was covered in a slick, disgusting sweat, but I was still shivering profusely. "I'm freezing, dude."

Folio looked up. "Uh, hang on." He jogged off to the side of the stage, returning with my coat that I had discarded after the first track. "Here."

I stood up and pulled it on, not feeling much relief, my skin screaming as the fabric brushed over it. I took a moment to calm my body before walking back out to the stage, the crowd cheering as I did.

I picked up my discarded microphone and waved. "Well," I put a hand on my hip and huffed a laugh out. "I'm so sorry about that, guys."

The crowd cheered for me, but I was still fighting the feeling of another impending puking spell.

"So, I think I'm sick." I chuckled, and I saw the guys shaking their heads, smiling. Nick was already taking his bass off, and Jolly was walking over next to me. "I'm so sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to finish the show tonight, folks."

It was met with cries of sadness, and I frowned. "We're so sorry." Jolly's voice came through his own mic. "But we will schedule a make-up show. We've just got to keep this guy away from the gas station sushi."

Nick and Folio laughed with the crowd, but I just gagged, pressing it back down. Jolly slapped me hard on the back, which made me flinch.

"We're going to get this guy into bed, guys. But, before we go, we thank you all for being here!" Jolly hollered, and the crowd cheered.

"And can we give it up for Noah, guys?!" Nick hollered out, causing the venue to erupt. I just gave an embarrassed nod and began stalking off stage, feeling another wave oncoming.

-

Nick drove me home last night, walking me inside to make sure I got into bed properly. I only managed to get my pants, shoes, and shirt off before I folded into bed.

"Alright, bro, I've set a bowl on the nightstand, in case you don't make it, and I've got a water bottle next to you." But I was already half asleep when he left.

I was awoken to the doorbell going off, and I groaned, my back muscles screaming at me, and my stomach rolling inside me when I swung my legs off the bed. My head pounded hard at the sensation of sitting up. I felt truly horrific.

I stepped downstairs slowly, my body aching with each drop of my feet. I rubbed at my eyes against the sunlight, opening the front door.

Mileena stood in front of me, grocery bags in hand, and staring brightly at me, her faced etched with worry.

My eyes widened when I realized. "Oh, fuck! It's Sunday!"

She shook her head. "Oh no, I didn't bring Addie. I didn't want to risk giving her the plague."

I rolled my eyes as she walked past me into the house, closing the door behind her. "Then why are you here? Don't you not want to get it?"

She waved me off, heading for the kitchen. "I'll be fine."

She was back after a second, and I hadn't moved from where I stood by the door, focusing on staying upright as the room started to spin. Her eyes examined my face, a look of sympathy on hers.

"Oh Noah," She rubbed a hand on my shoulder. "you look like shit."

I smirked, my eyes nearly closed. "Thank you for noticing, I feel like it too."

I yawned, stopping it short when I felt as though I may gag again.

"How'd you know I was sick?"

"Nick called Laura last night. Told us about the show. I almost came over then, but Nick said you knocked out pretty quick."

I opened my eyes, then, giving her an inquisitive look. "So, you're here because...?"

She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "To make sure you don't die?"

Leena was trying so hard to be convincing, but I still smiled playfully at her. "Oh sure. You're just here cause you couldn't stand the thought of not seeing me."

She rolled her eyes at me, smacking a hand gently on my chest, which made me whine, rubbing the spot. My skin was so sensitive.

I saw her face flinch, realizing I was tender. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry." Her fingers rubbed the spot she hit, but I wiggled away, the contact uncomfortable.

She then pressed her palm to my chest, scrunching her brows. "Jesus, Noah." Mileena grabbed my face and pulled me down, pressing her lips to my forehead - something she always did when checking for a temperature. "Fuck Noah! You're burning up!"

Scurrying into the kitchen, then back to me in a flash, she had the thermometer in her hand, brushing it across my forehead. Everything was happening in slow motion for me, the room still threatening to turn on it's side at any given moment.

"Fuck! 104.9 degrees!" I just nodded dryly, not fazed. "Noah, you may need to go to a doctor."

I groaned, walking over to the couch and sitting slowly. "I just want to sleep."

She followed me, pulling my legs up to stretch on the couch. Her hands grabbed the blanket I kept on the back of it, stretching it out over me. "Fine, but I'm staying with you a while. I don't like that fever."

I scoffed. "I'm not too fond of it, myself."

She grabbed the remote and turned the television on. "What do you want to watch?"

I moaned, absolutely suffering. "Don't care. Whatever you want."

She took up space on the other end of the sectional, tucking her feet underneath her and scanning to Hulu.

"Just nothing about food." I felt my face begin to turn green, and she noticed. She ran to the bathroom, grabbing the trash and placing it near my head on the floor. "Thanks, babe."

I watched her still, glancing at me, wanting to correct me. It was a reflex that I hadn't meant to say, but in my current state, I couldn't find the willpower to care.

She must've known, because she just turned up her lips, and softened her eyes. "Of course."

I let my eyes fall closed, my head calming while I heard the opening to Grey's Anatomy play.

I woke up to a lurch in my stomach, my eyes flying open, and my hand instinctively grabbing the trash, retching hard into it. Not much had come out, mostly bile, as I hadn't held down anything for about thirty-six hours. I opened my eyes, bleary with involuntary tears, and saw the end of the couch empty, but the TV still playing.

"Oh, Noah!" Her feet tapped the floor softly as she ran into the living room.

She circled the coffee table, and sat next to me on the couch, her hand rubbing small circles on my back. Setting the can down, I leaned back on the couch, fighting to get air in my lungs.

"What the fuck?" I grit through my teeth. Her hand was now on top of mine, her thumb massaging into the tattoos on my skin.

"I know. Must be a bad bug."

I leaned down, grabbing the edges of the bag in the can, preparing to get rid of it. Her hands came in, shooing mine away.

"I'll get this. Go brush your teeth."

I stood, running a hand through my sweat-soaked hair, and realized I was still in just my boxers. It hadn't even occurred to me, too sick to realize how gross I must look.

"Sorry you have to see me like this."

She snorted, tying the bag up. "Noah, you watched me give birth. I think we're okay."

I smiled at her tiredly. "You don't have to stay. What about Addie?"

She walked to the front door, slipping on my slides so she could walk outside to the can. "Uncle Jolly and Uncle Folio took her out for the day. Laura told me to stay as long as you need."

I was sick, exhausted, and half-dead, but I couldn't help what came tumbling out of me.

"And what if I never let you leave?"

Her hand hovered over the door knob, her neck twisting so she could look at me, a sad expression on her face. "Go brush your teeth. Your breath is rank."

I smiled. It wasn't a 'no' or a 'shut up', so it was progress.

"I think I'm going to shower, actually."

She just nodded before disappearing outside to dispose of the garbage.

I climbed the stairs carefully, lightheaded. I walked straight into the bathroom, turning the water to scalding, and stripped off my underwear. I glanced in the mirror, cringing at the sight. My eyes held dark, grey circles around them, my hair was visibly greasy, and my lips were pale and chapped.

Real sexy, Sebastian.

While I waited for the water to get hot enough to melt my skin, I brushed my teeth, working hard not to gag again. Once I spit the last of the toothpaste out, I stepped into the hot water and took a moment to adjust. I had a feeling my fever had broken, as my skin didn't hurt quite so badly.

I took time to scrub my body, letting my body calm as I felt the previous day rinse off of me. I quickly washed my hair, not even bothering with conditioning or anything extra. Then, I just stood there, letting the warm water wash over my back, my forehead leaning against the cool tile, zoning out while I breathed deeply.

"Hey." I heard her voice, which I didn't react to. "You alive in there?"

I flipped the handle, turning the water off. My hand grabbed the towel on the hook, pulling it in and wrapping it around my waist before opening the curtain. She stood in the doorway, and I heard her inhale a sharp gasp when her eyes caught me standing, my hair dripping down my face. I flipped it back and eyed her.

"I feel like death."

Her eyes were blown wide, and her lips parted slightly, not responding. Normally, I'd be taking full advantage of the moment. However, I was sure my stomach couldn't handle any sudden movents.

"I, uh," She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "I brought some Zofran. We need to get you to hold something down."

I stepped out of the shower, sighing. "If you think it'll help."

She held a hand out, a small white pill in the palm. I walked over, picking up the tablet and holding it on front of me.

"How do I know you're not drugging me?"

She pursed her lips, smirking. "You don't."

I shrugged nonchalantly, and dry swallowed it.

Standing inches from her, smiling mischievously. "How's my breath?"

Leena grinned earnestly, then. "Better." She lifted a hand to the back of my neck, pulling my forehead down to her lips again. She hummed in approval. "That's better too. Now c'mon," She tugged at my wrist, pulling me out of the bathroom. "let's get you dressed and into bed."

I took note of the sweats, underwear, and t-shirt laid out on the bed. I also noticed the blanket being fresh.

"I changed the sheets for you. They were still damp from you sweating all night. I set up the trash can next to the bed, water on the nightstand. You need to drink it." She was using her Mom voice now, which had me staring at her, amused. "When you're ready to try eating, I've got Saltines, cheese, and a few different soups."

Eyes boring into her, I couldn't help but grin. "I appreciate you, Mileena."

The look on her face told me she was not troubled by any of her efforts. "You know I don't mind." She scanned the room, and began turning around. "I'll let you get dressed."

"Are you leaving?"

She stared at me, her eyes sparkling. "Do you want me to?"

A tinge of red crept up my neck, suddenly shy. "I mean, no?" Breathing out a chuckle, I picked up the underwear, letting the towel drop. Her eyes only flashed down to me for a split second, her throat swallowing hard. "But I get if you need to get back to Addison."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "No," She had her lips held tight together. "I checked in with Laura. Addie's fine. She said I can stay however long."

I nodded. "I've got pants on now." My words were lighthearted, finding humor in the fact that she was trying to preserve my modesty, as if she hadn't seen it all before.

"I figured I'd start disinfecting the living room while you napped."

I sat down hard on the bed, slipping the shirt over my head and wincing, the sensitivity coming back.

"Or, you could watch TV with me."

She stared at me, as if I was insane. "Is that such a good idea?"

I leaned back, pulling myself under the comforter and sinking down into the mattress.

"I mean, if you don't want to catch this crap, I don't blame you."

Sitting next to me on the edge of the bed, she laid a hand on my stomach softly. "I told you I'm not worried about that."

I laughed. "Well, you don't have to worry about me trying to come onto you. I get nauseas just breathing. I couldn't imagine what having sex would do."

She let out a hard cackle, smiling with all of her teeth. It was a nice sight to see, even on the brink of death.

"Well," I could tell she was weighing her options. "I guess it's fine. Mind if I borrow some pants? Jeans aren't exactly comfortable."

I just gestured to the dresser. She knew where to find everything. She slipped a pair of joggers out of the drawer, stepping into the closet to change. After, she came over to the bed, her side, and sat on top of the blankets, pushing her pillow up against the headboard, and flipped the TV on.

"Still no requests?" I just shook my head. She started Supernatural, picking up where her and I had left off on the last season, sitting back and watching the screen intently.

After a few minutes, I rolled onto my side, facing her, in a desperate attempt to ease the hard ache in my diaphragm. My body felt sore from dry heaving and the virus that crept through my veins. Eventually, I grew frustrated with the uneasiness each position had me in, growling.

"Come on." She motioned for me to scoot closer, pulling her legs under the covers and half-laying on the pillow. I moved myself to lay my head on her stomach, arm draped over her middle. Her fingers began running through my hair, nails scraping gently over my scalp the way she knew would have me snoozing quickly.

I buried my nose into her shirt, breathing easily. "Hey Leena?"

"Hmm?" She was into the show, but I still couldn't help myself.

"How would Justin feel about us just cuddling?" I smiled, reminiscing of the first time we cuddled on her couch, two years ago.

She snorted, clearly remembering exactly what I was referring to.

"He'll live. You may not. Priorities."

"So I take priority, huh?" My voice was slightly muffled against her, but I was warm all over thinking about it.

"You're the father of my child, Noah. And my best friend. Of course you do."

My hand squeezed her side in a sad attempt for a hug. She gripped my hair a touch tighter at the root, earning her an appreciative moan from me. So fucking relaxing.

"You should get some sleep."

"Are you and him still...a thing?"

I felt her chest heave. "Is that really a good conversation for right now?"

I raised an eyebrow she couldn't see. "We're best friends, right? Just pretend I'm Laura or something."

She laughed at that. "No can do, babe. Laura's prettier than you."

I waved a finger in the air in front of us. "Nuh-uh."

Her body shook with laughter.

"Ah Noah, insufferable as always."

I could only hum at her, my arm falling back to her side.

"You can tell me, Leena. I won't get mad."

Her voice was careful. "Kind of."

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly that, Noah. Kind of." She sighed. "I like him, but..." She trailed off.

"But what? He’s not as dreamy as you had originally expected?" I smirked at my words, which came out in my voice.

But her words were somber.

"He's not you."

My face fell, processing what she had said.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Her fingers pet my hair softly now, smoothing it down. "Get some sleep, babe. I'll be here."

Even with the firecrackers exploding inside of my chest, the overwhelming exhaustion was taking over, blurring my vision. Sleep overtook me quickly, my eyes closing while her hands soothed me into oblivion.

-

"I don't love you, Noah. I don't think I ever did."

"She's never going to be with you again."

I pulled at the metal shackles around my wrists and ankles, screaming at the top of my lungs behind the leather bound around my mouth. My skin burned from all over, unable to breathe in enough air to fight any harder.

"This is how you die, Noah. Alone. No happiness. No dignity. No family. You're pathetic." Leena was stood inches from my face, Justin just behind her, staring wickedly.

"She's mine now, bitch."

The veins in my neck strained as I tried to bite down on the bind in my mouth, my flesh bleeding as I pulled against the steel holding them to the table I laid on.

Justin picked up an instrument off of the tray, a long, razor-like blade that looked medieval.

"You deserve this, Noah. For being such a fucking failure." The laugh that pressed out of her was maniacal, bouncing off the hard walls of the dark room. "Addison will never have to see how fucking sad and horrid her father was."

Justin stepped over to me, using one hand to rip the tank top I wore. I pulled harder as he lowered the blade over my stomach.

He smiled at me. "I hope you didn't pay much for these tats, dude, cause they're about to come off."

My eyes bulged, my chest heaving as I shook my head hysterically.

The blade sunk deep into my skin, a sharp, piercing burning flashing over me as I watched the blood pouring out of me.

My screams were wet and desperate, tears flowing down the sides of my face into my hair. I stared at Mileena, begging her to stop this, but she just smiled at me, her yes dark.

"Oh Noah! You're doing great!" Her words were all venom, and I couldn't breathe now, a weight pressing on my chest. I looked up to see Justin pressing his palm down as he dug the blade in deeper, piercing my organs.

Blood pooled in my throat, and I tried spitting it, only for it to fall back down into my mouth, making me choke.

"Noah!" Mileena clapped, smiling wildly. "C'mon Noah!"

"Noah! Noah, wake up!" I felt my body shaking. "Babe! Wake up, honey!"

I startled, my eyes snapping open, and sat up abruptly. My eyes scanned for the trash can, grabbing it and lifting it into my lap, violently throwing up into the bag. I could feel the tears coming out of eyes, and I lifted my head, my body still shaking with sobs.

"Baby," Her hand was on the back of my neck, her voice calm in my ear. "it's okay. Let it out."

Heaving again, I ejected any stomach contents I had before taking a few deep, hard breaths.

"Done?" After a few seconds, I nodded. "Okay, let me take this."

She grabbed the can and stood off the bed, walking back into the bathroom. Returning with toilet paper in her hand, she tore some and handed it to me to wipe my face.

She crawled into my lap, pulling my face into her chest, as I cried hard.

Usually, I try to be masculine about it, crying quietly, privately. However, I was still so shaken by the nightmare, that I let myself wrap my arms around her, wetting her shirt with my hot tears.

She shushed me, rubbing calming circles on my back until I was able to breathe evenly again.

"Bad dream, huh?" I only nodded in response, unable to speak. "Yeah, fever dreams are the worst."

After several long moments, I shifted so she could scoot off of me, standing and heading into the bathroom, running my toothbrush over my tongue and teeth again, washing the taste of stomach acid out of my mouth.

I came back to the bed, pulling her back into me.

"I'm sorry."

We were laid together, tangled on top of the blankets, and she giggled.

"Don't apologize for having a bad dream. You can't control that."

"It was so bad."

She reached a hand up under my shirt, splaying her fingers out on my chest. "Sounded like it. You started screaming."

"Ugh, I'm sorry."

Rather than lecturing me again for apologizing, she just hummed.

"I've got you, babe."

I noticed Supernatural was still on. "How long was I out?"

"About two hours. I think I dozed off a little, too." She traced my skin with a fingertip. "You think you want to try munching some crackers? You're dry heaving so bad because you don't have anything to throw up."

I sighed hard. "I guess."

Another hour, and I was sitting up on the bed, breaking the crackers into four and taking at least fifteen minutes to eat each one. My stomach didn't like it, but needed it. I had earned a love/hate relationship with a sleeve of Saltines, and that's just fitting for my whole fucking life, isn't it?

Mileena was eating a sandwich she had ordered from her favorite spot, pulling pickle slices off of it and popping them in her mouth. We both watched the screen intently, making odd and end comments about the movie we watched.

"This isn't nearly as good as the first one." She spoke around her bite of food.

I shook my head. "Nah. The first Nun was actually a little creepy." I pointed at the TV. "This one is kind of boring, actually.

"Agreed." Leena popped another pickle in her mouth.

I smirked at her. "I still don't get that. Why not just eat them on the sandwich?"

She stuck her tongue out, a perfect round pickle slice sat in the center, and crossed her eyes at me. I stuck my fingers out to pinch her tongue, but she sucked it back in quickly, giggling at me.

Although my stomach still hurt, and wasn't pleased that I had filled it with six crackers and a half of a water bottle, I felt a slight energy surge, so I didn't want to try falling back asleep yet. Not after my last nap. I shuddered at the thought.

Her eyes fell on me, noticing my shiver. "You want to talk about the dream?"

I shook my head, looking down at the cracker I was breaking. "It's fading anyway."

Mileena raised an eyebrow at me. "Mkay, well you let me know if you change your mind." She turned her attention back to the movie.

"What time do you have to go?"

She stood off the bed, balling up the paper from her sandwich, and tossing it in the trash can. "I called Laura after you woke up, and she told me I was fine to stay over if needed. Addie has been really good today, and tomorrow her and Nick are taking the baby to the aquarium."

Expressionless, I tried not to let the hope swell too much in my chest.

Still, I croaked out. "Slumber party?"

She laughed, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door. "Oh sure! We can paint nails and have a pillow fight!" She hollered from behind the door.

"I'm into it!" I yelled back.

"Yeah, well I'm all yours, then."

I smiled triumphantly. If I had known this was how to keep her around, I would've been licking doorknobs ages ago.

She returned, perching back on the bed. Her eyes glanced over to me comfortably, a smooth smile on her face.

"Leena?" She looked back at me over her shoulder. "Seriously, have you told him you're here?"

Her face fell, her gaze dropping to the remote in her hand. "I haven't."

I huffed, leaning back. "Maybe you shouldn't."

Her eyes looked up at me from under her lashes. "Can I be honest with you, Noah?"

My face twisted into a frown. "I expect nothing less."

She turned completely, facing me, and her legs crossed underneath her.

"I'm not good at this." She gestured between us.

I raised a brow. "What do you mean?" I looked over to the nightstand and down at my crackers. "Being a doctor? Could've fooled me."

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "No, dork." She looked back down out her hands. "Being broken up."

My head leaned back against the headboard. "Ah."

"I just," She pressed her lips together. "I miss you. And that makes it so hard, because I know you miss me too. You tell me all the time."

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. "I do."

"I want to be with you all the time. I think about it all day, every day."

I wouldn't dare interrupt, despite the increasing surge I had to kiss her, touch her, hold her. Anything.

"I damn near talk myself into coming home every day, Noah." Her eyes were getting wetter, and I just wanted to press my lips to her forehead. "But then I remember. Being alone."

My heart twitched.

"I don't know. Justin is...good." Ouch. Didn't need to know that. "He has a good job. He likes me, so much." She rolled her eyes. "He's good-looking, funny. He likes everyone. He respects the hell out of you." Shocking, truly. The feeling wasn't at all mutual.

"But," Her hands fell flat on the bed, a deep breath filling her. "I don't feel what I do when I'm with you."

My face was curious. "And that is?"

"Alive." She stood up then, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the bed. My eyes followed her every move.

"Noah, I spent a long fucking time just...breathing." She stopped, eyes boring into me. "But then I met you, and I felt like something inside me woke up. Like I had been on autopilot, but then, suddenly, I was driving again. At a hundred miles an hour."

I smirked.

"Even now, after all this time, I feel so drawn to you. Like a magnet, or gravity? Maybe that's the same thing, I have no fucking clue."

"It's not. Continue."

She narrowed her eyes at me, but continued pacing. "Either way. I can't find that feeling with him."

She sat on the bed then, right next to me.

"It's like that feeling of being on a roller coaster, when your blood is on fire, and your heart is racing? But then you get off of it? And everything goes back to normal? Do you know what I mean?"

"I do."

"The second I left your hotel room that night, it was like I stepped off the coaster. And for a while, I loved that. It was relieving, not knowing when it was going to drop. It was nice to know that I finally had control." A tear rolled down her cheek. "But then...I hated it. I felt like I was at a standstill."

I lifted my hand, wiping the tear from her cheek, using the other to rest on her shoulder.

"But every time I saw you," Her voice cracked, wet. "it was like I was awake again; alive."

She shook, a cry breaking through her. I pulled her, then, bringing her in close to me. I held one arm around her body, locking her in close to my chest. My other holding the back of her neck, squeezing gently to comfort her as she cried.

"I got you, Leena." I whispered in her ear. "I'm right here."

Her hands gripped my shirt tight, legs pulled up underneath her.

"Babe," I pulled her up so I could look into her eyes. "I know this is so hard. But it's truly whatever you want. Whenever."

I pulled her back down.

"I'm always here, just for you."

She laughed then, a sarcastic sound. "Noah, I can't ask you to sit around and wait for me to figure my shit out."

"You don't have to."

This made her cry harder, and I squeezed her tight.

"I love you Mileena. More than life itself."

Her voice was strained. "God, I love you so much, Noah." She cried between her words. "I miss you so much it hurts."

I felt my own tears brewing. "I know. I do too." I inhaled hard, trying to hold my own hurt back behind my hard exterior. "Every day. Every moment."

"Can we just pretend for today? Can we just act like nothing ever happened? And be us? Please, I'm so fucking tired. I just need one fucking day." Her hands were pulling at me, desperate to get closer.

I wrapped both arms around her in a tight grip.

"Of course we can, baby." I spoke into her hair. "Anything you want, my love."

[bloomchilde]

Oh, what I’d give right now to take a nap in my favourite sheets, lying on my tummy in a soft top and skimpy panties that'd feel so good against my skin, one leg all hitched up so I could rub myself against the sheets juuust that little bit, just to keep that tiny spark of arousal going, getting all fuzzy from being wet and sleepy.

I bet I’d dream of you, dream of you finally getting home, of you seeing how good I’ve been, seeing how ready I am for you, just from thinking about you.

I bet you’d smell me by the time you’d finally walk into the room, heady and intoxicating, and you’d remember what I tasted like when you made me scream from your tongue just the night before. You can smell me right now, can’t you?

You’d chuckle, knowing how dilated my pupils must’ve been when I put on those panties to lie down, seeing my pussy peeking out of them all puffy and rosy.

I bet you’d take your sweet time making sure everything is the way it’s supposed to be, making sure I was good and did what you asked me to do before you went out. You’d be pleased to see how well I did but even more pleased to see one tiny mistake, not even hidden too well, in the middle of the living room. You know exactly what I need, always, don’t you?

So I know that you’d make your way to the bedroom, quietly, softly as not to wake me. You wouldn’t undress, you’d only open your belt, take out your cock, and start checking just how wet I am.

I’d be so swollen that my lips would be slightly parted, clit peeking out, blooming just for you what is usually perfectly hidden. You’d trace a finger through me to gather some slick, smearing it over your head, already red, already hard.

You’d take my cheeks in hand, you’d caress them, spread them apart, relish in the clicky-sounding smack my folds make when they are parted, all sticky. I’d shift my hips, my dream getting more intense, spreading myself apart for you in my haze.

You wouldn’t be able to keep yourself from licking me, just once, just to make sure I taste exactly like you remember, but I’d taste even better, wouldn’t I? Because I never cleaned myself up after taking your load just before you went out three hours ago. You didn’t have to ask me not to, I knew. I always know, don’t I? You’ve trained me well.

You’d take a moment to contemplate what to do, how to enjoy me, but in the end, you decide to be kind. You’d take my hips in hand, lift my butt just so and you’d caress my pussy with your cockhead, once, twice, before slowly pressing in, just the tip. Just the tip so you could revel in the hitch of my breath and my little moans, revel in the way I’d fidget in my sleep, accidentally fucking myself on your cock, back and forth with little twitches of my hips, massaging you so delicately.

You’d refrain from looking at where I’m slowly opening up around you, my entrance dragging back and forth, just to see my brows furrowed, to see my plush lips open around my gasps, to see my eyes flutter open. You’d groan seeing my confused look, my dumb brain not catching up, not understanding the sensations just yet.

You’d wait for the exact moment I’d meet your eyes before finally sinking home in one thrust, too deep, too fast, just how I like it. You wouldn’t wait for me to understand, wouldn’t even wait for me to gasp before starting to fuck me into me, rough, fast, loving the slick sounds of my cunt, my pleas of "s' too much, please" "no, no, don't" when you hit all the right places.

I’d squirm around you, trying to get away from the overwhelming feeling, confused still and sleepy, but you’d hold me in place, no effort at all, you’d pin me down with one hand on the small of my back and fuck and fuck and fuck into me until I’d be nothing but a teary mess, begging so sweetly, so desperately.

I’d be on the verge of coming and you’d know, you’d know because of how I’d clench and flutter around you, you'd know because of how my thighs would tense up, taut and how I’d be begging “please, please I need… I can’t… Sir, please let me, please, I’ve been so good Sir”. And you’d know that I don’t have permission to come.

You’d know and that is exactly why you’d choose that moment to pull out and slap my cunt so hard that I couldn’t help but come, and you’d chuckle at knowing that you’d ruined it by pulling out, ruined it by not saying a word, ruined it by not burying yourself deep into that pussy and shooting your load so violently I’d’ve come all over again.

Instead, you’d turn me around, grabbing your cock and stroking yourself to the view of my tears, my devastation and you’d come at the sight of my devotion, thick ropes covering my teary lashes and drooly lips, heaving softly.

“Good girl.”

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Clouds ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: depressed reader, comfort. Been feeling low for no reason, wrote this for myself and hope it helps anyone in a similar place.

He's been holding you for a long while, ever since you came home and he saw the way you were detached and unresponsive to him when he asked you how your day had been.

One of his hands strokes slowly, deliberately, up and down your back, the other cradling your face, thumb rubbing lightly over your damp cheek as you slump in his lap.

"You wanna tell me what's wrong, baby?" Frank gently urges, still spooked by the quiet sobs that choke out of you.

"Nothing."

You won't meet his eyes but he doesn't force you to, simply pulling you closer into his body, the skin of his face pressing to your own, hand smoothing over your hair as he hugs you to his warmth. The simple action draws a fresh flood of tears from you as you feel the heavy pull of the void within, the melancholic thoughts that had been swimming around your head all day.

"Hey, hey s'alright." He soothes, letting you cry absolutely everything out. When you stop shaking he reaches across the coffee table to get you a tissue and dry your eyes.

"It hurts seein' my pretty girl like this. S'there anythin' I can do?"

"I– I don't know…" you eventually reply with a sniff.

He considers for a moment. "Maybe there's someone I gotta beat up? Hm?"

That manages to raise a tiny hiccuped laugh from you and Frank dares a smile. "S'that a yes? You just tell me who and I'll take care of it honey, you know I will."

You shake your head, eyes cast downward again. "No, it's no-one. Just me."

He tips your chin up slowly with his fingers and nudges his nose to yours before he kisses you chastely on the lips, and for a moment you forget your reasonless grief as your eyes flick up to meet his patient and loving gaze.

"C'mon now, I don't need you beatin' yourself up sweetheart." Frank snuggles you against his chest again and you close your eyes as you breathe him in. After a time you find yourself taking deep breaths along with him and the racing din in your overwhelmed mind eventually starts to quiet.

"It's gonna be okay honey, you know you gotta just feel what you feel, even if there ain't any reason for it." He softly kisses the top of your head. "Those shitty thoughts in there, they're just clouds across the sun and they'll be gone soon enough, and I'm gonna be here until they are."

He keeps his word, stays cuddling you on the couch as long as you need, distracting you with the odd light kiss as you gradually begin to feel the grey skies break and brighten up. He makes dinner after hearing the loud grumbling noises of your stomach, and runs you a bath before bed, sitting on the bathroom floor as he gives you a head massage while shampooing your hair.

And when he's curled close around you in bed, not leaving any room for intrusive thoughts to come back, you make your gratitude known.

"I don't know how I got so lucky with you Frankie, I'm sorry I've been such a mess lately."

"Don't apologise for anythin' darlin', and you know you do the exact same f'me when I'm having a shitter of a day." You turn in his arms and he strokes a stray lock of hair away from your face.

"I mean it, you do so much for me."

His smile is so warm and you return it. He doesn't miss the little glint in your eye as you sidle up closer to him.

"Well now, there anythin' else I could do to make you feel better sweetheart?" He asks.

You nod "I'm sure I can think of something…"

you say as you run your fingers through his thick hair, humming as you lean in to capture his lips in a soft, languid kiss.

[kyleraynermybeloved]

One Of A Kind -Chapter Three

Pairing: Kyle Rayner x Batsis!Reader Summary: Meeting a new friend and secrets being spilled is certainly one interesting way to spend a day. Warnings: Pregnancy, morning sickness, swearing, Christmas mention, fluff, slight angst Word Count: 4.7k A/N: The beginning is a mess but I hope y'all enjoy it! I'm going to pump out some more stuff before I go on vacation in August! OOAK Masterlist

“So, what originally brought you to our humble abode?” You placed the grocery bag on the counter in front of you. The three of you were still standing in the kitchen, a little closer now the initial shock washed over.

“You can thank this one over here. Left his comms on when once he came back, fortunately for him no one was listening, well besides from me. I caught everything up until you went deep into your history before the connection finally ended.” Guy sent a look to Kyle, shaking his head slowly. “Now, I figured I should probably meet this mystery person I’ve heard so very little about for myself. I was lucky you two live together, otherwise that would’ve made my trip a little harder.”

You let out a long sigh, mentally reminding yourself to have a talk with your apparent careless husband. “Okay, I can get behind that.”

Kyle sent a nervous look towards you, shuffling closer hesitantly. “Darling, honey pie, light of my life, you’re taking this all very calmly. Does that, perhaps, mean you’re not angry?”

“Oh, I’m furious with you,” You tried to keep your voice steady as you moved away from his reach. His face dropped slightly at the motion. “But I’ve also kept things from you that I should have told you sooner, so I guess this puts us on some slight even footing. And just so you know, this does not mean you’re in the clear. This is my life you had been reckless with, the life I tried so hard to keep safe. If this was anyone else, we both would be in more danger than you know.”

Tears were pricking your eyes and the nausea was setting in, your stomach fluttered as the rush of emotions became overwhelming. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go throw up and when I come back I expect the both of you to be ready to leave for lunch. This is non negotiable.”

You turned on your heel and dashed to the guest bathroom, slamming the door shut as you barely made it to the toilet before the contents of your stomach spilled out. You whimpered as the heaving became too much all too quickly. Resting your forehead against the cool seat felt heavenly for your heated skin, waiting for the next wave to come. Fortunately it never came. The room no longer felt like it was spinning so that was a win.

After a few beats nothing else came up, the queasiness had eased up some.

The knock on the door startled you. You called out weakly for them to come in, you were taking your chances on it being Kyle since Guy had looked like he wanted the Earth to swallow him up whole when you left.

The door opened and you were met with the familiar green eyes you’ve come to long for and love. His face was stoic but quickly softened at your crumpled figure.

“How are you feeling?” Kyle spoke softly, kneeling down, gently rubbing your back.

“Like shit,” you said flatly, leaning into him with a grumble. “I think this week takes the cake of being terrible. It feels infinitely worse than the weeks before. I don’t understand how someone can be this sick during every waking moment of the day?”

“Do you want to stay home for lunch then? I could send Guy out.” He suggested.

You hummed, doing a mental check of your physical state. “No, I think it would be better to go out. I’m going to feel sick regardless so might as well make the most of it.”

“Okay,” He blinked, eyes filled with emotion. You could tell he wanted to say something so you sat patiently for him until he was ready. With a sigh he continued, “I’m sorry I wasn’t careful. I was just so focused on getting to you before anything terrible happened, the last time you had gotten sick I almost lost my mind when you had to be hospitalized. Honestly, I couldn’t handle another repeat.”

You turned in his arms, pulling him close in a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if afraid you would crumble if he let go. “My love, listen to me. It's okay. I turned out okay in the end. More than okay, really. And before you say anything, you already know I would do everything in my power to not let that happen again, especially to you. I made a promise that day at our wedding I would never leave you, that no matter what we’ll always have each other.”

“But I could have put your life at risk. I should have known better. If something were to happen to you- gods, and the baby! If something happened to the both of you I could not forgive myself. I’m sorry I did that to you both.” Kyle croaked out. Your heart nearly broke at the sound.

You knew where this was stemming from, had been there to pick up the pieces that were threatening to shatter completely, caring for a nearly broken man trying so desperately to stay afloat. How one man could deal with all that trauma and still manage to smile and care for you every single day, you didn’t know. You were glad you were there in time before it became too much for him. Had been alongside him to mourn the loved ones he had lost.

“Look at me,” You pulled back to cradle his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, his hands found your hips. “I’m not gonna lie, I was more than scared when I found out the comms had been left on. But it appears that luck was on our side since it was your best friend who was on the other side, a person who I trust by the way.” You said with certainty. “That being said, I know with my whole being and soul that you would never mean harm to either of us. I trust you completely. So don’t get lost in that wonderful, beautiful head of yours.”

“Thank you.” Kyle smiled. You could see thoughts were still swirling in his head, you know this conversation would be continued once you had no more guests.

During that time you pulled him in to give a peck on his nose, which he wrinkled in a grimace. “And as much as I love you, I’m asking you politely to rinse your mouth. Your breath is gnarly.”

You let go with a laugh, smacking his arm. “You ass!”

“Get washed up, lovey.” He placed a kiss on the crown of your head and got up, helping you in the process as well. “We’ll continue this later, let’s get back to our guest who’s awkwardly waiting for us.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t think I made such a good impression. Go ask what he’s feeling on eating, I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

He left with a small pat on your butt. Remembering what a coworker once said about not brushing your teeth after throwing up because it grinds the acid into your teeth, you rinsed thoroughly with water followed by mouthwash. Doing another rinse of both you figured you could do a quick brush now.

It probably wasn’t the best idea but at least the mint flavor replaced the offensive one that had been left in your mouth. It also helped ease the sick feeling that clung desperately to you.

The boys had picked a place nearby the apartment to walk to, they had been chatting your ear the entire way there. Of course, you wished you had offered to drive since the weather had gotten worse, the snow now in huge piles on the sidewalk making you put in more effort than needed to trudge through it.

Thinking about it now, there are only three more weeks until Christmas comes. You had forgotten all about it, too caught up with work to begin shopping. You’ll have to find a day when Kyle was out to go get gifts.

Not wanting to chance it again when you had been called in three days before the holiday last year, the two of you hadn't made any plans ahead of time, not sure if there'd be any last minute assignments given.

The diner had been tucked away towards the end of the block, it was small and gave off a warm, cozy vibe. You picked a booth in a corner, away from the windows with you near the wall and Kyle at the end, Guy sat across from the two of you.

You were trying to decide on getting either soup or sandwich for the better half of ten minutes, your efforts on choosing one was futile because you ended up ordering both

It was Guy who pulled you out of your thoughts. “I’m curious to know how he managed to score a date with you.”

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, Kyle knew what you were going to say first.

“He managed to spill his coffee all down my shirt.” You said with a shake of your head, forcing off a smile to feign the look of disappointment.

“There’s no way he did that, holy shit! And you still gave him the time of day?”

“Well, I was the one who actually asked him out. He was too shocked by what had happened, it was really cute. I like to think he fell for my charm, pun intended.” You laughed.

Kyle let out a groan, hiding his face in his hands clearly embarrassed. Guy groaned at your awful pun, if you could even call it that. But you were very pleased with their reactions.

The full brunt of nausea had returned when the food arrived but you managed to push it down and force food into you so you at least had something in your system. Kyle glanced your way, noticing the change in your demeanor and took your hand in his, rubbing comforting circles onto the back of yours.

“We went out for a date the week after the first, which turned into having dates once a week, which turned into two dates a week after a month, and then three dates a week. Eventually he wouldn’t dare part with me.” You said between bites.

“We've been together for five years now, going on six real soon.” Kyle continued. You hummed, leaning into his shoulder.

 “The first three years we dated, it was interesting to see how it lasted since I was going on and off world for most of the beginning. Coming clean to her helped tremendously,” Kyle noted happily. “And these last two years have been amazing since we married.” The pure joy was evident in his voice.

“What’d you think when he kept leaving in the beginning?” Guy asked you, clearly interested in your thoughts.

“It wasn't as noticeable to me because I travel a lot for work. We were lucky I had that week off, otherwise I don't think none of this would have happened. But his cute charms and loving personality made it worth it.”

“Gross.” Guy faked gagging. “What do you do for work that keeps you traveling?” 

You had been expecting that question to come up. But you wished it had come up later. Looking at Kyle who shrugged, suggesting it was your decision to tell him the truth. You decided on something in the middle.

“I work for a security company, traveling wherever I'm needed to provide my services.” It wasn't the whole truth but it also wasn't completely a lie.

Guy seemed pretty surprised at your job, not expecting that from the cozy nature of your look. “That's pretty neat. Do you stay in the country or do you also travel internationally?”

“Most of the time it's international but the most recent trip was actually here on the east coast. I was happy with the lack of jet lag that accompanies my trips.”

The three of you let the conversation die down to eat your food. The faint music playing from the speakers added to the comfortable atmosphere. It felt like you were catching up with lifelong friends rather than meeting up with your husband's brother for the first time.

“Not to bring up the elephant in the room but does Bats know about you two being together?” Guy asked wearily, looking back and forth at the two of you.

You tensed at the question, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly more interested in shoving your food around, no longer with an appetite.

“Actually, no.” Kyle coughed. “As far as I’m aware, they don’t know about us.”

“They don’t.” You confirmed coldly.

The air became thick at your tone, sensing this was a topic you did not want to talk about, Guy quickly changed the subject.

“Uhm… Have you guys got anything for the tiny lantern?”

Like a switch had gone off in your brain, your body relaxed against the seat, a soft smile on your face upon hearing the name.

“Tiny Lantern?” You asked.

“Y-yeah. The kid is gonna be a lantern if I have any say. Ring or not, we’re family.”

“Oh, fuck I think I’m going to cry thats so sweet!” The overwhelming emotions began pouring out, tears streaming down your face.

“Wait, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked and looked at Kyle for help, who was equally as flustered and confused as he was.

A small sob came out, you gulped down your water trying to stop the tears from continuing. You really didn’t know why it affected you like this, you were normally amazing at keeping your emotions in check. That’s a lie, you knew exactly why.

“It’s not that, it’s the hormones.” Wiping your tear stained face you sucked in a deep breath hoping to calm down. “Don’t worry about it, I'm fine. They’re happy tears, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Kyle gave your hand a squeeze, comforting you and turned towards his friend with a smile. That seemed to relieve him. “To answer the question, no, we haven't gotten around to any shopping yet. Well, apart from the prenatals and vitamins she needs to take now. I think that had been our next stop once we dropped off the supplies at the apartment.”

Your breathing had evened out, no longer crying. It was a little embarrassing but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, your energy now low. That seemed to be another lovely symptom you’ve acquired in the past month, remembering how you felt after your last mission.

“Maybe after a nap?” You suggested with a yawn. “Or perhaps you two could go while I nap?” You were exhausted, possibly due to the whiplash of emotions during the entire time here.

“Of course, let me pay and get some containers for us. I’ll be right back.” Kyle scooted out of the seat and walked to the counter.

The both of you kept quiet, not really sure on what to say.

You broke the silence, “I want to say that I’m normally not like this. I’m usually much calmer, not really a crier.” Not sure why you felt the need to explain yourself but continued. “Sorry I scared you earlier, it’s been a pretty harsh week for me.”

His face faltered for a moment, “Somehow, I don’t doubt that. I apologize for bringing up an unwanted past. I don’t know how long it’s been since you last saw your family but they’re different now, if it makes any difference.”

You sent him a knowing look. Of course you know how your family is doing, you’ve kept daily tabs on them since you left the manor that day.

It was one of the conditions of your new life and job that your boss let you have complete access to anything regarding them. Both in and out of the mask, although you're the only one with access to that knowledge.

“The things Kyle told me about you when you were in the bathroom makes you out to be a strong and loving woman. I don’t doubt that one bit. You’re good for him, he’s much happier than before and I know it’s thanks to you.” Guy sat back in his seat, sent a warm look to Kyle and turned back to you.

Your heart warmed and you felt lighter. Like a tension had been released from your shoulders. Looking into his eyes you only saw comfort and admiration shining through.

“Thank you, I know you mean so much to him too. I’ve heard and seen the way you treat each other like family, it’s of great importance to me having you out there with him keeping each other safe. Just know you’re always welcome to stop by, whether that be for him or to crash. The door is always open for you.”

There was a faint blush that crept up his neck. “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Any time, although I do have one request… actually two requests for you.” He motioned for you to go on. “First, if you could keep us, me and the baby, a secret from the others, just until we’re ready.”

“That’s understandable, don't even have to ask.” He smiled.

“You might want some background information for the second favor. I have this friend of mine, a kid that I look after whenever he’s in town, actually his entire family are friends of mine.” You rambled on, taking a moment to breathe. “Anyways, he crashes with us from time to time, but is a little weary of strangers. So, whenever you’re here around the same time as him, if you could possibly ease up and maybe… give him space. Just so he doesn’t freak out.”

“That’s certainly something.” He chuckled. “But I’ll be on my best behavior, since you asked so nicely.”

Wishing you could believe it you knew better than to hope for a miracle. You knew with the two of them together they'd end up destroying the whole apartment complex. Billy had confided in you that you Rayners and his family are the only people who know about his identity, but that doesn't mean he'd stop being his chaotic smack-talking self around Guy. The less they interact with each other the safer your home will be.

Kyle came back with a few containers and you all quickly filled them before heading out, you hailing a taxi to avoid the cold before the two could oppose.

*****

You woke up much later in the day, the sky was dark but that was expected in the winter. The smell of food welcomed you, no longer feeling sick for the time being although you knew it would be a matter of time before it returned.

Making your way out of the bedroom there were bags littered along the hallway, leading to the living room where you found Kyle and Guy sitting on the floor reading instructions with parts on the floor in front of them

“Aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes.” Their heads shot up in your direction, surprised at your arrival.

“Hey sleeps, you’re up! There’s a dinner plate on the counter for you,” Kyle nodded towards the kitchen counter where there was a steaming plate of food.

You crossed the room grabbing the plate and walked back sitting on the couch closest to Kyle, judging by all the pans on the stove top he made dinner for all of you. He gave your calf a quick squeeze for his own comfort, fingers lingering.

“What are you two building?” You asked in between bites.

It could have literally been anything. The random parts on the floor didn’t give you any clues at all, whatever container they had been in was gone as well. Kyle and Guy shared a look, having a silent conversation while you ate, looking between the two of them perfectly content on waiting them out.

Guy spoke first, “It was supposed to be a surprise for when you woke up, a gift for the tiny lantern.”

“It’s a crib for our little bean,” Kyle continued eagerly with a grin. “It’s the same one you were looking at online, you’d mentioned wanting it and I thought we might as well get it now.”

Looking over at the parts in front of you it slowly clicked together. It should have been obvious from the start but your sleepy baby brain hadn’t booted up when you had looked at the familiar soft gray pieces all laid out for them.

“You do know we still have like another seven months until our bean joins us, right?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I was a little eager and Guy suggested it was a good idea to get started with the big stuff early on rather than wait until you’re farther along.”

Guy held up his hands, “Woah! I didn’t do anything, you’re just easily suggestible.”

“No, you’re the one who put the idea in my head.” Kyle bickered back.

You chuckled into your food. Kyle smiled up at you before turning his attention back to Guy who was smirking at him. It was obvious to Guy that you and Kyle were completely in love with each other, he was glad his best friend was happy.

“Well, thank you both for the amazing gift. The only thing we need to do besides building this is to figure out where we’re going to put it.” You said.

“Are you not turning the guest room into the nursery?” Guy asked you both.

You shrugged, “We only found out three days ago we’re expecting so we hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I mean it would be smart to do that but what about when we have guests staying over?”

“Maybe we could let our little bean stay in our room with us so they’re within reach, and we keep the guest room as is, at least for now.” Kyle suggested.

“I think you might need to invest in a larger home, this apartment is gonna get cramped real soon. You have some time to decide but don’t put it off at the last minute.” Guy piped in.

“It honestly wouldn’t be a terrible idea to get a bigger place,” you agreed. “We do have a stable and good enough income to go looking. Alright then. I’ll leave you two to build, I have maternity shopping to do.” You got up and loaded your plate into the dishwasher.  “Babe, do you know where my laptop is? I think I misplaced it again, I couldn’t find it when we got back from lunch.”

He mumbled instructions to Guy then turned to answer you. “Yeah, the rascal asked if he could use it for the weekend to do a school report so I dropped it off. You can use mine, it should still be charging on my bedside table.”

Of course your unofficial son was borrowing your laptop, this shouldn’t be news to you. You did your best not to trip on all the bags that were still placed around the hallway floor, making a mental note to inspect their contents later. 

For the time being you made yourself comfy on the bed with the laptop in your lap, you had some shopping to do since it was getting more difficult to squeeze into some of your clothes. Everything was slightly snugger than they normally were but in due time nothing would fit.

Time must have flown by quickly because a very exhausted looking Kyle walked in, shutting the door quietly behind him. You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy spurring on your feelings but he looked downright beautiful. His hair was a tousled mess, half-lidded eyes struggled to stay open, and his pout was too cute. “Were you able to find anything good and comfortable? Should I be worried about fighting off wandering eyes when you look gorgeous in whatever outfits you got yourself?”

“Only found a few things but since I have no clue what I’m doing I bought them in different sizes and I’ll return whatever doesn’t work. As for fighting off others, I’ll handle that myself but you can do as you please,” you closed the laptop as Kyle got on his side of the bed, setting it aside and gave him your undivided attention. “So… are we good to talk about it? Our situation.”

“If you’re asking if the walls have ears, no– we’re good. Guy barely made it to the spare room before he passed out. Damn crib took all our energy. It was impossible to put together.”

You let out a laugh scooting closer to Kyle, he pulled you both down so you were laying down with your back to his front where he could easily wrap his arms around you. He let his fingers rub away any lingering discomfort that came with the stressful day.

“I want to start off by apologizing for not telling you about my past sooner. I mean, we’ve been married for years now and the only thing I told you was that I had left my old life behind and took up hiding behind this new person I created. It wasn’t right nor was it fair of me to do that while you gave me everything and more.” You sighed, placing your own hands on top of his.

“Believe me when I say I knew what I was getting into when I decided to marry you. Your job alone requires you to erase your existence both in the virtual and physical world, it’s a miracle we ran into each other when we did otherwise I wouldn’t have the love of my life in my arms right now,” Kyle gave you a gentle squeeze. “You can say I don’t know anything about your past but don’t you dare say I don’t know anything about you. I know your favorite color and how you try to keep something on you that closely matches it.

“I know your eyes light up whenever you get to a good part in a book. I know how after a bad day of work you love it when I get a bath ready and have dinner prepared so all you have to do is wind down and relax. And I know that when I get too overwhelmed and start panicking you’re always there to bring me back to reality and calm me down– how you’ll drop everything to come to me to do it. These are all the little things that piece you together, the only things that matter. I don’t care that you hid that part of you but I would love nothing more than to learn about it when you’re ready and when you’re willing.”

It was incredibly hard to keep the tears back but your sniffling gave you away. There was no one more understanding and kind than your husband and it broke your heart you never had the guts to completely spill all your secrets to him. He had all your trust, love, and support and you hoped he felt the same.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You turned your head and kissed him.

“I don’t believe you have, maybe I could do with some reminders.” Kyle gave you another peck when you pulled away.

You both stayed silent for a moment, soaking in each other’s presence and warmth. You might have thought Kyle fell asleep if it wasn’t for the long yawn coming from him.

“Babe?” you whispered and waited for a response before continuing. “Guy is right. We’re going to need to find a bigger place, it might be time to start looking into some houses. Get a nice place to stretch our legs, lord knows we’re going to need the extra room once our little bean is here and the Marvel gang makes it their life mission to help out.”

“Okay, we can start looking tomorrow– after we get some rest.”

You eased out of his arms to turn off the lamp and he immediately pulled you back to him when you were done. “Alright, tomorrow then. Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too, sleep well.”

Now, with the heavy weight off your chest you were able to fall asleep without a problem for the first time in a long time.

[soulofapatrick]

Heart’s Desire 2/2 - Simon Lewis x female reader

Summary: after talking with Alec you go find Simon

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: non really; a little angst

Y/N’s POV

As I step into the familiar confines of the institute, Simon tailing behind me like a lost puppy, his presence a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. The air is heavy with tension, a silent reminder of the events that unfolded in the Seelie Court, and I can’t help but feel a knot of guilt tightening in my chest. 

Jace is the first to notice our arrival, his keen eyes narrowing as he takes in our somber expressions. He raises an eyebrow in silent inquiry, a silent question hanging in the air like a sword waiting to fall. "What happened?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "Why is Clary so mad and upset?”

The weight of his question hangs heavily between us, and I swallow hard, the guilt threatening to suffocate me. How do I even begin to explain the tangled mess of emotions that led us to this point? How do I put into words the conflicting desires and fears that churn inside me like a tempest?

I glance at Simon, his expression almost pleading, and I can feel the weight of his uncertainty pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. It's as if he's bracing himself for rejection, for the inevitable fallout of our tangled emotions now that we're back in the real world where consequences cannot be easily swept aside. I have to swallow hard before I turn back to Jace, the bitterness of my words tasting like ash on my tongue.

“Stupid Queen playing her sick jokes," I mutter, the frustration and anger seeping into my voice. The words hang heavy in the air, and I see Simon flinch, a small sound escaping him that feels like a punch to the gut. I shake my head, unable to meet his gaze as I grumble out, "I need to find Alec."

Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and head out of the main room, the weight of everything that's happened pressing down on me like a physical burden. I stride down the corridor towards the bedrooms, each step a deliberate effort to put distance between myself and the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume me.

As I push open Alec's door with a sense of urgency, the familiar sight of his room greets me, offering a sanctuary amidst the chaos of my emotions. But my respite is short-lived as Magnus lets out a sound of surprise, his eyes widening in astonishment as I enter unannounced.

“Get out Mags.” I say to him, my voice tinged with urgency, gaze unwavering as Magnus glances between me and his husband in bed beside him. 

“You can’t kick me out of my own bed.” Magnus retorts, a challenge in the raise of his eyebrow as he waits for Alec's response. But Alec merely tilts his head slightly, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. It's unnerving how he always seems to be able to read me like a damn book, seeing through the facade I try so hard to maintain.

As Magnus huffs in frustration, he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he’s fully dressed and climbing out of bed, his movements swift and decisive. “Fine,” He mutters, tone laced with a hint of annoyance, “I’ll go get some coffee.” 

With a swirl of his jacket, Magnus strides towards the door, leaving Alec and me alone in the quiet intimacy of his room. As the door clicks shut behind him, Alec still doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on me with an unreadable expression. It causes me to swallow hard, feeling a surge of vulnerability wash over me as I meet Alec's gaze. But there's no judgment in his eyes, only a quiet understanding that fills me with a sense of comfort and warmth.

Slowly, tentatively, I climb into the spot Magnus just vacated, curling up beside Alec with a sense of relief that floods through me like a tidal wave. His warmth envelopes me like a protective shield, wrapping his arms around me and I rest my head on his chest, focusing on the steady beat of his heart until I’m able to think straight enough to tell Alec what happened. 

“Simon kissed me.” I mumble, feeling Alec's eyebrows raise in surprise as he processes my confession. He knows all too well how much I've longed for Simon to look at me, not Clary, and the weight of that realisation hangs heavy in the air between us.

“Why don’t you sound happy about it?” Alec asks gently, his voice soft yet probing. He shifts slightly, turning to face me fully, his eyes searching mine for any hint of what’s troubling me about this all. 

I swallow hard, the guilt weighing heavily on my conscience as I struggle to find the right words. "It's complicated," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, I wanted him to... but not like this.”

Alec’s brow furrows in confusion, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "What do you mean?" he prompts, his voice gentle yet insistent.

I take a shaky breath, steeling myself for what comes next. "The Seelie Queen," I begin, the memories of our encounter at the court flooding back with painful clarity. "She made Simon choose... between Clary and me.” 

Alec’s eyes widen in understanding, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place as he realises the gravity of what I'm saying. "And he chose you," he says softly, a note of awe in his voice. 

I nod, unable to meet his gaze as the guilt gnaws at me like a relentless beast. "But at what cost?" I whisper, the words barely audible in the quiet of the room. "Clary... she might not be my friend but I never wanted to hurt her.” 

Alec reaches out, his hand finding mine in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. "You didn't do anything wrong," he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "The Seelie Queen's games are twisted and cruel. You can't blame yourself for her machinations.”Alec's words of reassurance wash over me like a soothing balm, offering a glimmer of comfort in the midst of my turmoil. His hand in mine is a grounding force, anchoring me to the present moment as I struggle to make sense of the tangled web of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me.

“You’re right,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't let the Seelie Queen's games dictate my happiness." With a determined nod, I steel myself for what comes next, resolving to take control of my own destiny.

Alec squeezes my hand gently, a silent show of support and encouragement. "Go find Simon," he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Tell him how you feel. Don't let fear or guilt hold you back.”

I nod, a sense of purpose settling over me like a mantle as I rise to my feet, determination burning bright in my heart. "Thank you, Alec," I say gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you.” 

As I make my way towards the door, Alec's voice follows me, a beacon of strength and reassurance in the darkness. "And remember," he calls out, his words a silent vow of solidarity. "You deserve to be happy."

With Alec's words echoing in my mind, I step into the hallway, my resolve firm and unwavering. It's time to face my fears, to confront the feelings that have long simmered beneath the surface. And as I set off in search of Simon, I know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, I'll always have my friends by my side to help me navigate the stormy waters of love and loyalty. 

As I turn the corner, the hallway seems to narrow, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my chest. And there, right in front of me, stands Simon, his presence both comforting and unnerving in equal measure. The air crackles with awkward tension, thick with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. It feels as though time has slowed, stretching the moment into an eternity as we stand there, locked in a silent dance of uncertainty.

Summoning every ounce of courage I possess, I take a shaky breath and blurt out the words that have been weighing on my heart for far too long, my voice a jumbled mess as nerves threaten to consume me. "Iwantyoutowantmeto." I falter, needing to gather myself before I continue, taking a deep breath and gripping Simon's hands firmly in mine. "I want you to want me too," I repeat, the words clearer this time, though my voice still trembles with a mixture of anxiety and longing.

As the words hang in the air between us, I watch Simon's expression shift, a kaleidoscope of emotions dancing across his features—surprise, disbelief, and something else, something that sets my heart racing with anticipation. And then, like the sun breaking through the clouds, his face lights up with a radiant smile, his eyes alight with a warmth that sends a rush of euphoria coursing through me like a tidal wave.

“You  have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," Simon says, his voice filled with a mixture of joy and relief. His words wash over me like a soothing balm, banishing the doubts and fears that have plagued me for so long.

Before I can fully process his response, Simon tugs me towards him, surprising me with the strength of his embrace. His arms wrap tightly around me, pulling me close as if he never wants to let me go. In that moment, I feel safe, cherished, and loved—a sensation unlike any other. 

As Simon pulls back slightly, his gaze holds mine with a captivating intensity, sending shivers of anticipation racing down my spine. And then, with a tenderness that leaves me reeling, he leans in once more, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that ignites a firestorm of emotions within me. 

His lips are soft yet urgent against mine, a silent plea for reassurance and confirmation of the feelings we've both harboured for so long. The kiss is a symphony of longing and desire, each brush of his lips against mine sending sparks flying through every fibre of my being.

As the kiss deepens, Simon's hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. The corridor fades away, forgotten in the heat of the moment, as Simon presses me against the wall with a passion that steals my breath away. 

His touch is electric, setting my skin ablaze with longing as he explores every contour of my lips with a hunger that leaves me dizzy with desire. It's as if we're two stars colliding in the vast expanse of the universe, merging together in a blaze of passion and intensity.

“I told you to find Simon not make out with him in the hallways!” Alec’s voice comes from down the corridor as he leaves his room, breaking me and Simon apart, both of us blushing like teenagers, “I’m happy for you but no making out in the corridors.” 

“Yes sir.” Simon mumbles out, face going even redder after calling Alec ‘sir’.

“Alright Ali” I laugh.

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[13a07s]

Nothing Sweeter Than Sugar

(Kenma Kozume)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to mafuyukii]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,265

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Name Calling: Sugar, Daddy, Good Girl, Baby, Sweetheart

Sugar Daddy - Ness Mentioned

Anxiety (Specifically, Visiobibliophobia)

Self-harm (scratching)

Sexual Tension

———————————————————————

     "I don't know what I'm doing," I mutter, pressing random buttons on Kenma's keyboard, doing 'my best not to die' as he asked. I don't know how he does it. The few minutes I've sat here for him have all been distracting and overwhelming. The constant rolling comments on his live stream, the awareness of being on camera, and everything happening in the game is a lot to keep up with.

The soft 'hmph' Kenma has a habit of letting out wisps against my ear, tipping me off to his presence before his hands on my shoulders can. "It looks like you're not messing up my game," he whispers, making sure the microphone of his headset doesn't pick up on it. "Good girl."

A mix of giddiness and embarrassment mixes on my cheeks. I didn't do anything in the game while he was gone so I don't believe I deserved the praise. But, praise from Kenma is rare so I revel in it when I can.

My praise doesn't stop there. My boyfriend reaches his hand in front of me, briefly covering his camera. The mandator to our left goes grainy and dark, mirroring what his viewers are seeing, or well, what they're not seeing. The chat starts dinging faster than before, snips of people questioning why their video is darkened and trying to catch Kenma's attention speed across the mentor to the right.

     "Good job, Sugar," he repeats, his free hand ghosting over my neck, pushing my hair out of his way. His fingertips are slowly replaced by his lips, a gentle, almost phantom kiss being pressed to the back of my neck. "I appreciate it," he continues to praise, beginning to trail his ghostly kisses up my neck, his path ending behind my ear.

     I can't help the squeak that spills out. It's not usual that Kenma is affectionate and even less common for him to initiate said affection. The realization that there's an audience that just heard the pathetic mouse impression that squeezed out of me settles on my chest. The mix of giddiness and embarrassment grows on my skin, specifically heating the dying path his kisses took.

Kenma softly chuckles, carefully pulling his headset off me to put it back in its rightful place on his head. I catch a glimpse of my flustered expression on the monitor.

"Hey, sorry guys, I had to take a call," Kenma shortly explains to his fans, fixing his mic. His golden eyes glow as they stare down at me, his body focused on adjusting his headset but his eyes stay focused on me. The sharp shape and attention of them make me squirm, my blush and flustering feelings quickly becoming too much. "Everyone say thank you to my girlfriend for stepping in for me."

'You little shit, stop,' I mouth, making sure to turn so the camera can't bear into my very being any longer. It makes Kenma silently laugh, his eyes shining even more with amusement. I swear, he picked up streaming just to embarrass me every chance he gets.

     Kenma's chest vibrates with the sound of his next round of joy. It's real laughter this time, echoing in the chilled game room instead of the mute or almost mute sound he usually makes when he's joyful. "You know," he starts, his body still after his laughing fit stops. A sharp grin rests on his face, fighting against the sharpness of his eyes for the award of deadliest. "Most babies know better than to call their Sugar Daddy a little shit."

     "You're not my Sugar Daddy and you are a little shit."

     "Sure, Sugar," he coos, his voice warm despite the belittling undertone of it. "Why don't you be a good girl and go take a bath for Daddy? I'm sure your nerves could use it. You're pretty much dripping in anxiety."

"Little shit," I hiss, even though he's right. I like sitting with Kenma in his game room. I even like being in here with him while he's streaming. I don't like being part of the streaming; at least not on camera. That tacked with him openly teasing me on his stream, and it doesn't take long until I'm overwhelmed, which is quickly knotting a ball of anxiety in my stomach.

     His eyes swim over me for a long moment before flicking toward the door, another command to leave and take care of myself. Surprisingly, Kenma's anxieties haven't ever fed into mine. If anything, it helps him notice my coping mechanisms - like my middle finger tapping an unheard beat against my thumb - and helps him redirect my energy - taking a warm bath until my mind is soothed.

     "Go."

     The single word hangs in the air as we stare at each other, tempting each other to give in. As always, the feeling of eyes on the back of my neck wears me down a lot quicker than Kenma. "Fine," I mutter, climbing out of his plump, stereotypical gamer chair. I wish I was as comfortable on camera as I am talking through his mic. I know his fans are always hounding him about having me in more videos and streams.

     "Good," he grumbles, sliding past me to take up the seat I was just in. "Hello again," Kenma greets his viewers, getting situated to focus on his game and his fans again. "Sorry for the long wait. Shit comes up, you know?" The continuous click of comments flowing through elevates again with his full arrival, a mix of understanding and pissy fans voicing their thoughts.

     I stay still next to his chair for a few more moments, watching him get back into his groove, my eyes snapping back to the monitor every few seconds to make sure I'm not in the frame. "You know," I start, leaning closer to his headset so the viewers can hear my voice. "Don't let Kenma fool you. Despite how he acts, he's quite the bottom in bed. An hour ago, the guy was on his knees offering two thousand just to touch me - eh!"

My personal life spilling is cut short by Kenma jerking toward me, pinching my side to get me to shut up. A glare, with a tiny hint of amusement whipping through his irises, is shot my way. "That's private information. Incorrect private information, might I add," he grumbles, aiming the lie toward his viewers.

     "That's bullshit and you know it," I whisper, keeping my voice soft so it's not picked up.

     Slowly, lazy gold drips down my body, melting over my curves as Kenma stretches out a hum. His humming pauses for a moment, starting up again when his eyes backtrack their trail. My stomach does somersaults, heat blooming over my skin again as he etches every detail of me into his mind. No matter how many times he does it, I always feel squirmy with embarrassment and staticy with need. Need he can't fulfill right now.

     "I know," Kenma finally exhales, the expensive metal color of his eyes glued to my shirt collar. The small red and purple nicks left behind by his teeth earlier in the day burn under his stare. "I also know you need to go calm down before you scratch your skin off. Itching isn't going to make the feeling go away."

     My body freezes, trying to make sense of what my boyfriend just said. With the pause, a burning sensation quickly loops around my forearm, tugging my eyes down to investigate. My nails are dug into my skin, long red trails left in their wake, overlapping and crisscrossing all over my arm. It's another coping mechanism, a super unhealthy one that I've been struggling to ditch for years. It usually surfaces when I feel like I'm being watched, like now.

     "Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing it," I mutter, loosening my hold on my arm. I carefully run my thumb over the scratching, checking the state of them. They're not deep and none of them are bleeding. I'm sure they'll all fade away within an hour or so.

     "No need to apologize, Sugar," Kenma coos, his voice soothing this time instead of teasing. "Go take a bath and relax. You know where I'll be when you're done." He sends me a wink before turning back to his screens, apologizing to his fan base again.

     Despite his main focus being back into his game, I can still feel the flicker of his eyes, trailing after me as I leave the room. The heat of it stays occasionally licking at my heels even as I head down the hallway, the doorframe separating us threatening to burst into flames simply from Kenma's repeating glances.

     As I head toward the bathroom I make a mental note to set a timer. The last thing I need is for him to be distracted from his fans again because he's worried I'm not doing okay or that I fell asleep in the bath again.

                    ————————————

     "Shit. Shit, shit, shit," Kenma's strained voice grumbles, not quite a shout but above his resting volume. The soft buzz of fake gunshots mix with his cursing, the soft noise easing the small flick of anxiety threatening to spark.

     I don't know why my anxiety always spikes when it comes to Kenma streaming or anything having to do with his social media. For someone terrified to the masses about being judged by internet strangers, I have a very social media present partner.

     At least he's pretty understanding about it and doesn't push my comfort zone too hard. I will say, that I've been to a lot of beautiful parties and award ceremonies and such because Kenma has gently pushed me to attend with him.

     I stand just inside the room, leaning against the door frame as I admire Kenma, soaking in the warm feeling of being understood and loved despite my irrational fears. My fingertips wrap around the hem of his favorite sweatshirt, enjoying the comfort of it as my eyes roll over him the same way he did to me before my lavender and Epsom salt bath.

     I thought he looked adorable with dye blonde, root showing hair in high school, but now? With his man bun and the long streaks of natural black that melt into blonde? With his hair comfortably draped above his shoulders? There's been more than once that I've been distracted by Kenma tying his hair up alone.

     "How long are you going to stare, Sugar?" His voice rings sweet, a one-eighty from the tone he held earlier. Kenma's eyes flick to the side for a moment, observing his comments before focusing on me again. "They want you to say hi if you want. You don't have to," the small ramble is buffered by his focus on his game, my boyfriend's way of seeming calm. I know he's weird I'll get stressed again, evident in the tightness of his shoulders and slightly rougher stroke of his keyboard.

     "I don't mind saying hi," I tell him, the footsteps of my slippers melting into the cream carpet of the room.

I settle behind his chair, resting against it with my arms around his neck, hands dangling on his chest. I keep my breath steady as I check the screen to the side. Nothing but my arms wrapped in the comfort of Kenma and my perfectly maintained nails are in frame. Perfectly fine by me. It's his sweatshirt and the nails he chose for me that they're able to judge.

Kenma's focus stays on his game for a few more seconds, finishing whatever task it is he's doing. Once he's finished with... collecting ammo, I think?... he tips his head up to look at me. "Hey, Sugar. Are you doing okay?"

"I'm good," I hum, gently running my fingernails over his clothed chest.

His eyes melt over me in their slow and lazy trail like always, melting with my still-tinted red skin from the warm water, and widening a bit when they fall to his sweatshirt wrapped around me. "Are you wearing my sweatshirt?" I nod, yes, toying with his headset, clicking it into a bigger setting before clicking it back to the right size. Kenma's eyes slit, curiously jerking around the fabric as his hand comes up to close around his mic, cutting our voices off from his fans. "Only my sweatshirt?"

"More or less," I murmur, rubbing my bare thighs together. I did put undergarments on, mostly - only - because he promised to go to dinner once he's done with his twelve-hour streaming session. My eyes glance at the clock, three hours down, nine to go. Plenty of time to lay around the house in comfy clothes.

"You're teasing," he quietly hisses, his frustration from earlier lying dormant, at least until now. I may, or may not have, started teasing Kenma knowing he only had thirty minutes until his stream started. I may, or may not have, also told him his begging was inadequate to get what he wanted before his stream too.

I shrug my shoulders, a soft smile hanging on my lips as my nails crawl up his chest, gently rolling across his throat. "I think you deserve it, Baby. Calling me a good girl, referring to yourself as Daddy, ordering me around. I think someone forgot who's really in charge."

Kenma's eyes are wide now, cheeks dusted a soft pink as he looks up at me. "I only... I... you were all worked up and... I just... I wasn't trying - "

I softly giggle at his stuttering, his little attitude act breaking at the first sign of me throwing my weight around. Kenma might not be as shy or reserved as he was when we first met, but he's the same blushing boy who turned as pink as a peach the first time I offered to blow him.

"Your fans are waiting," I cut off his flustered words, jerking my head toward the chat made up of a million questions, all circled around why they can't hear him and why he's tucked behind a bush in the game.

"Right," he drags out the word, his still pink-dusted face slowly falling to look at his screens again. "Say hi, Sugar," Kenma whispers, uncertainly letting go of his microphone so it can pick up the sound of us better. His skin tints a darker shade of pink when I lean closer to talk into his mic.

"Hey guys! Sorry to keep pulling Kodzuken away from ya. I hope you're all doing well and enjoying the stream! I'm sure I'll pop back in soon." Once I'm done talking to his fans, I pull away from him, running through what I'm going to do for the next nine hours. My book is still tucked away by one of his monitors. Maybe I'll read that in the bean bag chair as he plays.

Kenma turns in his chair, jerking toward me again, this time to wrap his arms around my waist instead of pinching me. "Where are you going?" He asks, trying to keep his tone steady, but a bit of a whine still sneaks through.

"I think I'm going to go read, maybe take a nap when my eyes get tired," I murmur, running my nails through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

His eyes slowly blink as his hands focus on kneading at my stomach, toying with his sweatshirt hanging on me. "Sit with me?"

     "Of course, Baby. I always do."

"No, with me," he murmurs, hands sliding down to grip my hips, gently tugging on me.

     "I don't want to be on camera."

     "It'll just be a section of your back and the ends of your hair. Nothing else," he whispers, his hands sliding down to gently push on the back of my knees. When they buckle, Kenma swoops me up, positioning me on his lap, chest to chest. "Please?"

     My arms settle over his shoulders as I get comfortable on his lap, toying with the loose strands of hair that have slipped from his bun. "Just my back?"

     Kenma softly hums, fingertips slowly crawling up my thighs to poke under the end of his sweatshirt clinging to them. His chair softly sways back and forth as his eyes trail over me. My man of a million words with barely a thousand spoken, but that's okay. His soft looks and constant awareness of me are enough.

     After another beat, he whips the chair back around, jumbling me in his lap and making me giggle. "Alright, back to the game," Kenma mutters, checking his camera and the monitor to stay true to his promise. "Brought to you with the guest appearance of my Sugar's back and split ends."

     "I don't have split ends Mr. Half-Dye!" I tease back, honking his bun a few times. "Meanie."

     "A meanie you're distracting, Sugar," he whispers stretching his arm across his desk to grab my book for me. He stops for a moment, flashing it at the camera. "Here's the most recent porno my girlfriend is reading."

     "It's not a porno!" I shriek, lunging to try and snatch my book away from him.

     "Totally is," he grumbles, letting me take my book back. Kenma settles into place, chin on my shoulder, slightly hunched over so he can see the screen and be pressed against me. Our bodies melt into each other, finding comfort and familiarity in the position along with each other.

     My arms settle over his shoulders again, cracking open my book to keep reading my romance story that Kenma insists is just difficult pornography. The sounds of the room mix with my reading. His soft curses and conversation with his fans, the ticking of the stream chat, the soft buzz of his game in his headphones, and the soothing tapping of his keyboard.

     Occasionally, my eyes flicker between his monitors, checking to make sure I'm in frame how I'm comfortable. My eyes skirt over to the chat as well, glancing over it. A lot of it is gibberish about his game that I don't understand, a few nasty comments about my presence and Kenma's constant distraction with me, and a few comments gushing over the two of us.

A soft sigh spills from Kenma, his arms wrapping around me, and his head burying into my neck. "I almost lost that round. I guess I'm losing my touch."

     "You're not losing your touch. I'm sure it was just a difficult round."

     "Probably, Sugar," he murmurs, brushing a kiss to the side of my throat. Slowly, Kenma pulls away from me, situating himself in a more relaxed position. I squirm to adjust as well, perched on his lap like a prized trophy.

     His eyes flicker around, looking at all his screens before settling on the chat. Kenma's soft voice mixes with my reading again as he answers questions and talks with his fans. His hand slowly paws at my thigh, rubbing against the chilled skin. "Sugar?" He calls with a drop of sweetness in his tone.

     "Hmm?"

     "The viewers want to know why I call you sugar."

     "Because I'm your Sugar Baby and you're my Sugar Daddy, duh," I teasingly answer, leaning forward to spill the answer into his microphone.

     The familiar warmth of embarrassment warms my face as Kenma's eyes melt over me, his hand sliding up from my thigh to the middle of my back. He gently pushes on it, making it arch downward. "The real reason, Sugar."

     "Because I'm your high school Sweetheart, and there's nothing sweeter than Sugar."

[is-not-a-unicorn]

I want my home livable Again

How did things get this bad?

This is a five year long depression mess. I bought a house with a couple of friends several years ago. I was the ONLY one cleaning, which was annoying but manageable. And then my ESA got cancer and eventually passed away.

After that, I struggled with taking care of myself. I became overwhelmed with cleaning up after everyone and stopped cleaning common areas. The messier it got, the more depressed and overwhelmed I got. I've spoken with my roommates about cleaning up after themselves and their pets, they said they would but never did. The kitchen became unusable and I ate fast food almost exclusively for about a year.

I moved everything into my bedroom. My room slowly became as bad as the rest of the house.

I got a mini fridge, tabletop oven, my own dishes, and a single tabletop burner so I could cook in my room and stop eating so much fast food. It helped me feel like I had more control over my life and cooking made me feel a little bit better.

I also make art, all my hobbies are in this room. It's an overwhelming amount of stuff here. I have more clothes than anyone would ever need to own. I also have way too many books.

I impulse buy things when I get stressed. It's a bad coping mechanism that I'm working on fixing because it just adds to the clutter.

Two years ago I met my partner and we've been living in an apartment together. I'm in a better place mentally now but he lost his job recently (he has a new job but it pays half as much as the old one) so we're going to move into my house once our lease is up because I can't afford rent AND the mortgage.

He's offered to help me clean but I'm too embarassed to let him see this. I want to get my room decluttered and cleaned before I get his help with the rest of the house.

I'm hoping to remodel the house eventually so I can separate our space from my roommates' living space.

But for now I'm documenting my cleaning journey. I feel like this blog will help me and others feel less alone in the struggle of recovering from hoarding

[valyalyon]

July 2026 - March 2027

July scene includes a short description of sex, August scene includes some vomiting, December scene is cute, March scene is SAD :) Have FUN READING EVERYONE <3 Previous Post | Next Post DIE MASTER LIST OR #LYONDIE DIVIDERS

July 15, 2026

Raphael came home from work that night in a state. He walked in heated and found me feeding the boys dinner...

CW: Argument, descriptions of vomiting, vague descriptions of sex, dub con, explicit language. MDNI. 1.7K words.

He stopped for a second.

I was breastfeeding Leon, and overseeing a nearly 3 year old Theo as he ate the pasta I had made him. His eyes lit up whenever Raphael came in, and he waved at him, “hi, dad.”

Theo, the ever perceptive boy he was, seemed to notice something up with Raphael, and scrunched up his face, “you okay?”

Raphael had already fixed his face and much of his demeanor to present himself to the boys, his face was charming and sweet as he came to greet Theo, “yeah, bud. How are you? Did mama make you pasta?”

Theo nodded his head and smiled at Raphael, and then showed him that he could eat by himself, messing his face up in the process.

It didn’t matter, his mother would clean his cheek immediately without letting him know that he had stained himself. Little Theo didn’t even notice his mother wiping off the pasta sauce from his cheek, he just smiled up at Raphael.

Oh, yeah, I’m his mom. He’s cute. I love him. In the early stages of raising babies I felt very disassociated from everything.

I was an amazing mother according to everyone, and my sons were happy as can be, but I noticed the difference. Nearly dying with Leon shook me to my core and I heavily disassociated after the fact.

Sometimes it was hard not to see the world from the third person perspective. I was floating above, just watching it all happen to me.

…

We put the babies to bed…

The time dissolved…

Bed, again… Raphael says, “here… Open…”

I did, I always did, but I was well aware that this was the time.

He spread my legs and ate me out as I moaned helplessly.

Holding me by the ankles, he begins to fuck me. It feels amazing, each thrust goes in so deep.

I feel my head scrambling from the pleasure. I can never think when it comes to sex with Raphael. It was so mindlessly enthralling.

“I’m going to,” his voice came in through the fog.

“Deep,” I heard myself reply.

I held onto him, digging my nails into his back as he came into me. He pushed his dick as deep as it could go, sending the semen directly at my cervix.

I moaned and twitched, “Raphael…”

“I’m going to keep cumming in you every day this week,” he told me, “I checked your ovulation tracker.”

“As if I didn’t tell you about this in April,” I replied passive aggressively.

“Guess you need another pump of cum.”

August 8, 2026.

To celebrate my 26th birthday, Raphael invited over our family and friends for a party. During this party, they surprised me with an official celebration of Theo’s 3rd birthday and Leon’s 1st birthday.

I remember feeling overwhelmed much of the day. Everyone was there and everyone was being loud and some people couldn’t help but argue…

I watched as Raphael and Julius got in a heated back and forth across the dining room table. They exhausted me. They couldn’t help it, if they were around one another and me they had to argue at some point.

Today’s reason was: Julius and I greeted each other with a hug, during a long series of introductory hugs mandated by Raphael and I’s common Latin culture.

In between everyone in our families talking over one another, I heard Theo speak up, “mama.”

“Yes, hon?” I turned my attention to him.

The table quieted down a little, but Raphael and Julius were still staring daggers into one another, as Theo continued to speak, “I like this party much. Thank you.”

“Of course, Theo,” I told him with a smile.

“But, I’m tired, Leon tired,” Theo explained, pointing at his brother who was resting in my arms.

“I know, my sweet boy, mommy’s sorry. Come on,” I stood up slowly from the chair, holding Leon to my chest and coming to get Theo off his chair.

Raphael started to talk to his family and distracted them as I went away to put the boys to bed.

After Theo brushed his little teeth, I tucked him in, and put Leon in his crib after. Good night kisses galore, “I love you mama” a million times from the sweetest boys.

I went to the master bathroom, and vomited into the toilet. My eyes were full of tears and my chest hurt. I started to whimper a little, and wondered if I had lost track of the time.

Disassociating was so rough.

Raphael opened the bathroom door and looked at me carefully, “is that what happens when you hug Julius?”

I wanted to scream at him so badly. He drove me insane some nights, and after parties — fuck, he just knew how to get under my skin.

I threw up again just as he came in, and he came up behind me, grabbing my hair out of my face for me.

Raphael didn’t say a word for a minute or two after I had finished puking, when he finally spoke he sighed, “I’m sorry for the argument… I know you’ve been telling me to work on it.”

“The boys look up to you, stop showing them that negative competition between men is normal,” I responded, my eyebrows furrowing.

Shuffling off the floor, I opened the sink cabinet and pulled out one of the pregnancy tests. I flushed the toilet and Raphael was rubbing his arms, watching me.

I sighed and hovered over the test to pee on it.

“How long does that take?” He asked suddenly, but his voice was more nervous than anything else.

“Just two minutes,” I responded, getting off the toilet and setting the test down on the counter.

Kneeling back down, I returned to vomiting while Raphael held my hair back.

December 24, 2026.

We met our closest family and friends out for a day at the park. It was still relatively nice weather that winter, and I was starting to show much more being in my 26th week.

I sat beside Raphael on picnic blankets we’d set up. Theo and Leon were playing with Anthony and their other cousins. It was nice to see everybody happy.

“Dolores and I are happy to have you all here, this is the park we got married at years ago, and I am lucky enough to see Dolores carrying our third child,” Raphael announced in a lull of conversation.

A gift box was brought to us by one of my best friends, Natalie, and I kissed all over her in thanks, before sitting back down beside Raphael with the box.

We opened it in front of everyone and pulled out a soft pink onesie that said “Princess” and everyone around us cheered. Congratulating Raphael and I at every opportunity.

I was happy to be surrounded by family but I wanted private pregnancies and I hated the attention of these gender reveals. It was just overwhelming.

“Our Princess is due April 5, 2027,” I announced to everyone.

March 27, 2027.

Raphael scheduled a maternity shoot during my 39th week just as he had done with Leon. I was happy to have these photoshoots, they were beautiful memories of growing my children.

I wore gold for this photoshoot and was bare foot walking through the grass, posing for the photos. As soon as my individual photos had been taken, the photographer got Raphael to join me with the boys.

Theo, Leon and Raphael were all matching, wearing light trousers and white button down shirts.

Leon was so playful and excited to take pictures, reaching for me the moment Raphael came to my side. I took Leon in my arms happily, and nuzzled his nose with mine.

He was laughing as I did it, and he squeezed my cheeks with his little hands. He’d be two years old in August, and Theo would be four. They were growing so fast, my heart couldn’t handle it.

We posed for our last pictures as a family of four, and the boys were so good through all of it.

I wanted to break down though. The time was escaping me, I just wanted to be able to love all my children, and be there with them for their formative moments, but any day now, our daughter would be there with us.

I was worried about my labor, I was worried after a frankly tiresome pregnancy. I was constantly drained, I was constantly in physical pain, and even the photoshoot was causing a strain on me.

I had such an easy pregnancy with Leon except for cravings, but ended up nearly dying in labor with him. Prior to that though, I had an easy pregnancy and a normal labor with Theo.

There, I stand taking pictures for family albums but this pregnancy has been emotional and physical hell on me — and I don’t know if I will make it out alive from this labor.

So will I ever see those family albums?

At least I knew Raphael would still be around for them but…

Fuck, I don’t know if this makes sense…

I can’t die.

I don’t want to lose my daughter, but I don’t want my sons to lose me.

I don’t doubt that Raphael can love the children if left to care for them all. I don’t doubt he’d do his best.

But, why? Why do they have to lose me?

I have carried these babies within myself since my mother was in utero, they are immediately placed on my warm chest to calm down after birth, and every time, their screaming lulls and their sweet faces rest.

Does that make more sense? Every child I have ever had, has screamed in the arms of their fathers and calmed laying against my chest.

For months, my sons were distant from their fathers, and it wasn’t until they were nearly a year old that each one started showing any interest or friendship with their dad.

If I’m not there, who will calm her?

If I’m not there, who breastfeeds her?

If I’m not there, who will replace me and will they ever be enough for my daughter to feel okay?

For days, I would grapple with this…

Until…

April 3, 2027.

[moondustinfj]

Marauders - Enneagram

Remus Lupin: 9

"Still, I check my vital signs/ Choked up, I realize/ I have been less than half myself, for more than half my life

It looks like emphaty, to understand all the sides/ But I'm just trying to find myself, through someone else's eyes

Wake up, roll up your sleeves/ There is a chain reaction in your heart/ Muscle memory/ Remembering who you are

We were born to try/ To see each other through/ To know and love ourselves and others well/ Is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do"

Sirius Black: 8

"I remember the minute/It was like a switch was flipped/ I was just a kid who grew up strong enough/ To pick this armor up/ And suddenly it fit

God that was so long ago, long ago, long ago/ I was little, I was weak, I was perfectly naive/ And I grew up too quick

When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things/ I see the familiar/ I was little, I was weak, I was perfect too/ Now I'm a broken mirror

Here I am, pry me open/ What do you want to know/ I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough/ To hold the door shut and bury my innocence/ But here's a map, here's a shovel/ Here's my Achilles' heel"

Regulus Black: 3

"Maybe I've done enough/ Your golden child grew up/ Maybe this trophy isn't real love/ And with or without it I'm good enough

I finally see myself/ Unabridged and overwhelmed/ A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell/ I'm slowly learning how to break this spell

I only want what's real/ Set aside the highlight reel/ And leave my greatest failures on display/ Worthy of love, anyway "

James Potter: 7

" How nice it'd be/ If we could try everything/ I'm serious, let's make a list and just began/ What about danger/ So what/ What about risk/ Let's climb this mountain before we cross that bridge

How wonderful to see a smile on your face/ It costs farewell tears for a welcome home parade/ A secret handshake between me and my one life/ I'll find the silver lining no matter what the cost

But I want to be here/ Truly be here/ To watch the ones I love bloom/ And I want to make room/ To love them through and through and through and through/ The slow and barren seasons too

I feel hope/ Deep in my bones/ Tomorrow will be beautiful "

Lily Evans: 2

"Sweetheart, you look a little tired/ When did you last eat/ Come in and make yourself right at home/ Stay as long as you need/ Tell me, is something wrong/ If something's wrong, you can count on me

I know exactly how the rule goes/ Put my mask on first/ No I don't want to talk about myself/ Tell me where it hurts/ I just want to build you up, build you up/ Till you're good as new/ And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too

Like a force to be reckoned with/ A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss/ I will love you with every single thing that I have/ Like a tidal wave I'll make a mess/ Or calm waters if that serves you best/ I will love you without any strings attached/ I will love you without a single string attached"

Peter Pettigrew: 6

" Oh God I'm so tired/ Of being afraid

I want to take shelter/ But I'm ready, ready to fight/ Somewhere in the middle, I feel a little paralyzed/ Maybe I'm stronger than i realize

And no matter what/ Somehow we'll be okay

Don't be afraid"

Sleeping at last - Enneagram

[jaws-and-canines]

They’re Laughing At Me

A Count The Days story. Set right after Scarring, Like an Artist. Following a week of sensory deprivation, Haskell finds himself weakened and overwhelmed, and at the hands of Officer Munroe. Contains alcohol, shoulder dislocation, beating including around the head, teeth gore, mentions of sensory deprivation.

---

Part of me wants to go back under. If it wasn’t for my mind eating at me, I’d welcome the silence. Everything is far, far too loud for me as Munroe lets himself into the room. I’m still where Iverson left me, bleeding through the trousers I put back on with numb fingers. Munroe squats down to get at my level, and laughs as I flinch. He takes his penlight from his key chain and turns it on, shining it in my face with a nasty laugh.

“Please don't do that,” I mumble, holding my hands up to shield the light. Munroe takes the penlight and flicks it over my face again. I hiss, shrinking back.

He laughs, stands up, and turns the overhead lights on. “Ouch!” I cry, my eyes starting to stream. “Turn them off!”

“Shut up,” he says, and kicks me in between my legs. 

I curl up, foetal on the floor. “Wasn’t it enough?” I say to him, from where I’m lying on the floor. “Wasn’t the… darkness enough?” I spit the word darkness with as much disgust as I can muster. A week of sensory deprivation, smothered by my own thoughts. My sluggish brain can’t put together a way to describe it yet.

“No,” he says. “Sit the fuck up.”

I press a palm to the floor, and try to sit up, a hand still on my thigh where the edge of the heel of his boot re-opened the cuts and I can feel fresh blood starting to well up again. I manage to get myself up to a sitting position with a grunt.

I’m weakened and I know it. This is going to be bad. This is going to be really bad, I realise. I put a hand to my face as I stand up slowly, and feel that my cheeks are damp. I’m already dazed, I’m already weak, and I’m already fucking tearful.

Much to my detriment, Munroe notices too.

"Stop crying," he yells. "Stop fucking crying! Crocodile tears," he yells in my face. I start to bawl. "You want something to cry about? I'll give you something!" he snarls. I find myself being thrown to his men like a sack of potatoes. In this state, active resistance is beyond me, I know that. No matter how much I try to go limp to passively resist them, they hold me up. A seemingly endless sea of black uniforms and blue shirts. There’s only three or four but I’m dizzy and dehydrated. They blur into one singular mass. 

Munroe pulls my hands back behind my head as I squirm uselessly, and knots them together with blue nylon rope. The position is already a little uncomfortable, pulling at old scars, but I know what comes next.

The rope gets thrown over one of the hooks on the ceiling and the other end is passed to Fives. Munroe stands in front of me, arms folded. "No, no, no," I plead with him, shaking my head. "You'll ruin my shoulders, please."

“I don’t care,” he says, and gestures to Fives. Fives plants his feet- and he pulls.

I’m pulled off my feet with a pained gasp that turns into a screech of pain. 

Fives takes a step back, and the nylon rope is tied off, quivering with my instinctual struggles to try to find purchase that’s just not there anymore, trying desperately to relieve the weight on my shoulders. “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” I cry.

Munroe shrugs. "Cry about it, Haveter. Cry those salty crocodile tears.” He takes out his knife from where it’s sheathed next to his holster and bends down, grabbing me by the ankle. “The Major specifically asked me to do this to you. So don’t you think for a moment I’m the bad guy here. I’m not.”

He cuts me across the back of the heel, slipping his knife into the cut and pulling down. Tearing a small strip of skin on the sole of my foot off, leaving a red and raw ragged mess beneath. “Oh, God,” I moan, shaking. I try to kick him with my free leg, but the effort means tensing up my shoulders. There’s a sharp crack from my right shoulder and I daren’t push them further. “Please, no, no.”

The knife goes in again. This time he cuts a huge strip off, peeling it away like paring skin from an apple. Keeps on going until most of the bottom of my foot is a bloody mess. I screw up my face.

I cry out as he grabs for my other ankle to do the same to my other foot. I feel my blood drying sticky as I slip in and out of the moment, gasping quietly to myself.

He steps in front of me. “Look at it, yeah?” He holds the knife up in front of my face, slick with my own blood. “I’m not the bad guy here.”

I kick him in the stomach with as much strength as I can muster.

Munroe steps back, shock on his face, but my small victory comes at a huge price. As I swing back from the momentum, my shoulder quite unceremoniously pops out of its socket. I feel it go. Munroe responds to the kick with a vicious slap a moment after my shoulder slips out.

I just howl, screwing my face up, hot tears spilling down my cheeks, shuddering with my shoulder out of its socket. "Oh, God, please!" I howl at Munroe. "My shoulder, my shoulder, my shoulder!"

“What?” he asks, incredulously.

I can’t put two words together. I just scream, still swaying from the momentum of the kick.

He shrugs. “You did that to yourself.”

I wail and wail, coughing and spluttering, gasping in pain as my shoulder burns. It fucking burns. He just wipes his knife on my shirt and puts it away. “Cut him down, Fives, come on,” he mutters.

Fives steps over, unsheathes his knife, and simply cuts a single loop of rope. My hands come apart, and I fall to the floor with a thud and another wail of pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, tell Jack I’m sorry,” I sob, seeing Munroe draw his baton. I try to crawl away from him, on my hands and knees. Every little movement hurts something, either my shoulder, which I feel clicking around, or my feet, which sting like all hell. “Please…” I mumble. “Please, I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t listen. I go further back. “Tell Jacob I’m sorry,” I sob. “Tell him I didn’t mean it.”

“He’s fucking dead,” says Munroe, right before he brings the baton down across my fingers. And then they all descend. Fives and the other two, batons in hand, all at once. 

The first hit glances into my head. Then the second. “No, no! You’re going to kill me!” I scream, but it’s not like any of the officers are listening. They’re going for the jaw, because of course they are. From the left, a smack with a baton. Something shatters in my mouth and I spit blood down my front. I retch, and spit out another load of blood along with the tip of one of my teeth. The shard of enamel is bitter and hard.

From the right this time. He goes for the ribs, a kick with hobnailed boots. It slams me into the wall, and he follows up with a kick between my shoulders. I gasp as the nerves in my back seize. I can’t breathe, I realise, staring in fear at the scuffed-up wall. He kicks me again in the back, again, again. 

Munroe plants his foot on my head. I cry out as the treads of his boot scrape my bruised cheek. “Please!” I sob. “Stop!” 

“Shut up,” he says, and swings a kick into my stomach. I curl up into a ball, sobbing, gasping, curled around the bitter ache in my chest. Like a child, sprawled on the tarmac of the playground. I start coughing again. 

I roll back onto my back, coughing and spluttering as my lungs fight against me. I turn onto my side and start hacking up the blood I’ve inhaled. More shards of enamel fall out of my mouth. Fuck, they’ve broken one of my teeth. They’re going to fucking kill me. They’re going to kill me.

Oh, God, they’re going to kill me.

Munroe kicks me in the face. “This is what you fucking get, Haskell!” 

I howl. The words just aren’t there. He does it again. My whole jaw shifts. Again, one last time.

“Woah, woah!” says Fives, and drags Munroe off me. I’m spared. I catch my breath with a gasp, rolling away to the other side of the concrete room and trying to get up. My mouth is full of blood. It’s literally dribbling down my chin.

This time when I start retching, crawling around on my hands and knees, it’s not just enamel and blood I bring up. It’s teeth. Into the palm of my hand.

Teeth. 

I stare at them in my hand. Teeth. Multiple.

Someone swings another baton hit at me. I slam backwards into the doorframe, cracking my head on the metal, but I don’t react. Dead weight, I slump down to the floor, staring into space.

Teeth.

They knocked out my fucking teeth.

Munroe grabs me by the back of the shirt. “You need to learn some goddamn humility,” he hisses. It continues. And now they avoid my head. Now they avoid it. 

A kick to my back, a baton to my hip. I just lie there, on my side, staring at the mess on the floor. My teeth. Every single jolt makes me inhale, with the horrendous realisation that part of my mouth is a mess of emptiness, torn flesh and broken enamel.

By the time Munroe orders his men to stop, I’m crying. Silently. Just lying there, on my side, tears rolling down my face. Not a sound.

He grabs me by the jaw. It hurts so much I just sob and I can’t pull away. “Did that hurt? Did that hurt?”

I nod, slowly, whimpering as he presses his fingers against my jaw.

“I bet you’re fucking hungry and thirsty and tired as well. I’m not fucking done with you.”

“Please,” I croak. “You’re going to kill me.” The words come out messy, blood pooling in my mouth from the missing teeth.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks. It’s not a nice question, not really.

I look at him, dazed.

“Do you fucking want something to drink?” he snarls, gripping my jaw even tighter. I nod, eyes wide.

“Hold him,” says Munroe. “Down on the floor.” I’m already on the floor. They take an arm each. 

Munroe kneels on my legs, sitting astride me, fumbling with a bottle. It occurs to me a moment too late, as the smell of alcohol hits me, that he didn’t mean water. “Before you start-” he begins.

“Hey- hey- no-” I slur, spitting blood down my chin as I try to get the words out past missing teeth. “No!”  

But he advances anyways. “Before you start, this wasn’t my idea either,” he says, and with a hand on the back of my head, forces the lip of the bottle into my mouth, and tips the bottle. “So you can thank Iverson for this.”

The alcohol burns. The glass bottle comes away from my lips, and Munroe just presses a hand over my mouth and pinches my nose. I can feel it ripping away at the gaping mess they left when they knocked out my teeth. 

I scream, arching my back, twisting one way and the other, trying to spit it out. But the hand on my mouth is firm, and I choke it down before I run out of air. Only then does he let me breathe. 

Only for a moment. I see it coming. “No, no-” The bottle meets my lips again. I try to fight it, slamming my head against the floor in the process, but the alcohol swills into my mouth. Again, the hand, and I scream and I cry through Munroe’s palm as the alcohol sears my fucking mouth raw until I manage to swallow it.  

“Please, not again,” I croak as the hand comes away from my mouth. “Please. I’ll drown.”

“Not a bad way to go,” says Munroe.

The bottle meets my lips once again. I try to go with it this time, drinking as much as I can, swallowing it even as it burns and I can feel my stomach roll with nausea, tears streaming down bruised and grazed cheeks.

The alcohol smothers me like the darkness’ unkind sister. I find myself under their knives once again. I don’t really have the wherewithal to put together what’s going on- passed from one set of hands to another, from one cruel-edged knife to another, as I stumble around in my afraid stupor, trying to stay on my feet. 

I stare at my own blood on my hands, on my feet, my bloody footprints across the floor. My teeth are on the floor. And then it’s onto the next pair of hands, who takes it upon himself to pull off my clothes and inspect my back. Perhaps he re-opens old wounds, or he makes his own new ones. I don’t know. I don’t remember.

The same happens with my trousers. I flail around on the floor as they try to pin me down to look at my thighs, bruised and bleeding from a fresh whipping. I wail and cry for someone to come and save me.

Nobody will. They’re laughing at me.

Out comes the saltwater. I knew I was never going to get away without it. 

Munroe takes a particularly unkind view to me at this point, soaking a rough rag in it, and scouring my back down with it. Then my front, then my neck and face, all the while as I writhe and make incoherent pleas for him to leave me alone, my mouth full of blood and inflammation, and me, drunk out of my mind on whatever coarse alcohol they poured down my throat. And then, the final act of cruelty. I find myself staring at my own reflection- such that it barely is, I don’t recognise him- in a bowl of saltwater so thickly brined there’s a skin on top of salt.

And then I’m plunged under. Held down with a hand on the back of my head. I choke on it, because of course I do, too drunk to understand not to breathe in. They bring me back up to kneeling with saltwater streaming from my nose and mouth, tinged with blood, reddened eyes, and coughing so hard I can barely breathe. It stings. My eyes stream, my mouth bleeds, but all I can do is just lie there. 

No way out, no way to get away, I just shut down, retreating deep into myself, exhausted and in pain.  Munroe squats down to look me in the black eyes. “The fuck are you mumbling about?” “I... I want...” I struggle to put two words together. “I want ‘t go home... I want... I want my mother,” I sniffle. “But... she doesn’t want me!” 

Munroe laughs in my face as I bawl weakly into the concrete.

They discard me on the floor after that. They leave, and they’re laughing still.

They’re laughing.

[b0nemilk]

There is Something comfortably melancholy about waking up at 2 am in a cramped car in a Walmart parking lot because you can’t sleep. So you stay up watching the random people in the early morning walk around , commute to work , simply drifting and existing . When the overwhelming amount of sentience pushes you on a bench in the back of your brain forcing you to think , think , think about everything. It’s made me realize I don’t even know my thoughts anymore. I live so in the moment trashing any long lingering thoughts. I’ve turned my emotional processing off. I haven’t thought about how I’m In a whole new place, I haven’t really thought about how I’m working with people I won’t see again knowing everyone is a stranger here including the trees , the buildings , the signs , the cracks on the ground. I think about the people I hold dear to me and they can leave in a second . I think about how I’ve lost my mind haha . I tell a lcd therapist with tons of anonymous doctors that at I turned it all off because how does one process living ? Knowing there existence is so tiny and everyone else around you is so tiny , but yet seemingly so large . What is the best advice for knowing your whole world and time can be lost in a second Or every second slowly . What makes my life significant. I don’t feel like I am a bad person , I love hard and I’m understanding with everyone I treat people like I’ve known them forever. But why do bad things happen to me? “It’s life” a abandoned coffee mug tells me in a thrift store for 50 cents . All I’m begging for is a break let this be the one who stays , let my friends stay alive , let me not disappoint my family . My grandpa is dying . I can say it doesn’t bother me . I can say I’ve blocked off any emotional attachment after I saw him the last time years ago and I took advantage of his dementia by stealing his cigarettes in a teenage rebellion . Am I sad about this? Yes . He was a the only positive male figure in my life . He was everything to my mom . I’m jealous of my distant family . They get so much more time with everyone else but my mom had to move to America. I don’t even talk to my family other then my mom and brother . 444 . I wish I could see my cousins party and grow . I wish my aunts and uncles knew my gossip. My family is huge but I feel small? And not really apart of it . I hate my body I hate the way I look . I feel so ugly and awkward all the time. I’m insecure but loved connected and unconnected and a mess in a structure. I can’t help but to fear the inevitability of everyone leaving me . A message to my dad but I doubt he will ever be able to grasp the emotional weight of a “just hang in there “ poster hanging in a psych room med station Of a father he has been . I pinch myself leaving pricks of blood watching the clock every minute pass leading me closer to a catastrophe. Manic depression? What is it ? Emotional discharge is all it is . I’m ok ! I’m fine ! I smile I joke I work! I have a stable relationship with my friend , family and boyfriend ! Have I fooled myself? Have I pulled off the most incredible heist of my own perception! Evil laughing in my own head you fool! You fool. YOU FOOL!!!! It’s 5 am now I’m on my 180 th minute of watching the world slowly move around me . Nate’s made noises in his sleep. Which. Means around 7-8 am he will wake up and tell me about his dream. Escapism . Is the only thing we cling to . So much so people are now just living in vr. Nobody wants to live in this world anymore . We rather create our own candy flavored ignorance and inflate the massive tits of our own self hatred . We love you though. We love you! We love hard long and boy is it give us meaning ! I love you , I love you I I love you so much . Loving you makes me feel better. Spread the love man . Or was this another rose colored shades to hide the fact we are dirty fucking animals drooling over sin . I love you but I love you when I can . Because mommy’s very busy she has to work and your dad is slurring and slutting his was up the street . I love you untill your fat

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I don't know if I have ADHD or autism. I kind of feel like I do cause man does a lot of stuff going on with my friend who has them resonate with me (part of why I wish she'd take me up on my offer for a free room at my place, just want to mitigate some of the struggles I've had for someone I like and relate to if I can)

Anyway... RSD really does feel like it fits a lot. Like it just kills me when I feel like I've made someone mad or annoyed someone... said the wrong thing... you know

Obviously I try not to let it show, cause it goes back to how if you break down into a mess every time someone brings something to you, it makes it hard for people to talk to you about anything, but it still hurts

And like... I try with my friend not to do stuff that would set off her RSD cause she 100% has it, like I just try to pick my words carefully no in a walking on eggshells kind of way, but like running it by myself and see how I'd take it. Actually just kind of do this for everyone when I can

Just kind of sucks cause... you know... she doesn't really return that for me... I don't know, she's a good friend but... I don't know

Wish I could read minds, not even to spy on people, but just cause no one ever communicates what they want even if I ask directly. Wish I could read minds just so I could take their needs into my plans instead of me just slowly working my way along but having 100 different next steps in the back of my head I could use if someone just asks for them to become the priority

Everything I do is for me. I get the house for me, I clean the house for me, everything I did benefits me and I made sure of that to avoid breeding resentment... but like I started with the room I think my friend would like, I got the checking set up on my account, I'm finally in a situation where things are kind of smooth

My friend goes from saying she's gonna have to buy a ticket and come up here to get away from her family to never hearing about it again... it's probably cause change is very overwhelming so the fact it was really on the table made her hesitate to do anything but... if she'd just talk to me I could work on doing things to accommodate and mitigate stuff that's bothering her

But like... you see how if I do have RSD, how like just getting hit with a brick wall by everyone at everyturn just has it kind of always running where it's just like "What did I do wrong? Why won't you tell me how to fix this? I just want some company, was I only better compared to a very sick and hard to deal with dog slowly dying, but not better than emotionally abusive parents?"

If I were more out of touch with reality I'd say "clearly the government is trying to isolate me to make me go crazy", but like... nah... these things just happen... sometimes by chance and personality you just wind up isolated

Eh... really didn't want to send another message today. Guess this is just like one of those "write a letter you won't send" exercises, but then I drop it in someone's anon

Glad it sounded like you had a pretty good day, hope the walk was a good time

...I'm just tired and wish I'd learn to keep my mouth shut

RSD is brutal, and it's really frustrating how easily it could be set off.

Back before either of us had the language for it, wifey and I used to struggle with our coping mechanisms set off each other's RSD to the point that we were both actively alienating each other so badly our marriage was unraveling. It hasn't been easy learning how to create compatibility where distress had made a home, and it certainly involved setting off each others RSD a lot more in our attempts to talk through it.

Recently, we had a couple of small spats where one or the other of us was having a bad day and acted hurtfully. The other snapped back or resorted to coping strategies that we both know aren't on the table if our marriage is to remain happy. And instead of spiraling deeper into hell from there, we sat together, in pain and hurting, and tried to hear each other rather than the RSD-filtered interpretations of what each was saying. It was hard. We cried a lot. But at the end, we had learned something new about what we each needed.

It was interesting to see how much our experience of RSD and conflict has changed with each other based on a decade of painful work. It was nice to feel closer at the end of tension rather than to feel the distance grow.

Wifey has started getting assessed for autism and I have started getting assessed for ADHD (ironic in that wifey has been throughly diagnosed ADHD and I thoroughly assessed as autistic, though final diagnosis is still pending the savings to pay for that stage of assessment). I think having language to express yourself and others who understand your mind matters a lot. Without it the world can feel very cold and alone.

[psychicdronefemale-ocd]

Anxiety Dump #1 (Oct 18, 2022)

i've been experiencing spikes in anxiety/panic attacks. i don't notice other symptoms, just mental ones. my mind races, i get a lot of invasive thoughts. violent images in my mind that make me repulsed. or depressing thoughts that make me spiral. or general doubt about myself. i think this has been happening for 2-3 weeks. Friday, Oct 7 was my big panic attack. Its the 18th today, and I'm still not feeling right. i feel particularly bad right now. overall i just feel generally unsettled and it seems to come from nowhere, or from the smallest triggers. i don't know what to do when it happens. sometimes i can push through, but sometimes i fully spiral and i feel out of control of my thoughts and mind. I have had good moments, hours of feeling normal, hours of feeling bad, and strong bursts of anxiety in between. talking to people helps. over the weekend, in the time i spent with friends and i felt pretty carefree.

sometimes i wonder if these anxious periods feel the same for me as other people. it is so hard to explain. i get normal anxious feelings, like overwhelmed, distracted, uncomfortable. but there's this other hard to explain part, where I feel like my conciousness is distorted. does everyone get that? the feeling is like having smoked too much weed. i'm drawn out of your body and don't feel like you're driving at 100% control. its a really uncomfortable and unsettling feeling. describing it now, i can feel it. i almost feel parts of my body go numb. is it graves disease messing with my nervous system? or is that just a anxious thought? it never lasts - its always just a moment. but i feel so isolated in those moments. i feel like im feeling something no one else feels or can relate to, and which i can't fully describe. that can't be true but… i've never heard anyone describe such a feeling.

i had a really scary panic attack a couple weeks ago where i had a bunch of invasive thoughts about suddenly becoming fully insane and losing control and self harming or becoming suicidal. i had a really negative day where i was very overwhelmed by things that happened at work. i tried to take the day off as i was feeling overwhelmed by negativity and anxiety. i logged onto my work computer and tried to tie up lose ends so that i could feel better about taking the most of the day off. instead i found a huge disorganized mess laid at my feet with no warning. i complained and refused most of it, managed to reach a compromise, but only after being a pile of stress for an hour trying to figure it out. i played some video games to relax, but felt myself being a bit down and depressed throughout the day. i was meeting david later, so i started to get ready. i always feel overwhelmed as i prepare to leave the house for the weekend. i need to remember everything, make sure things are left in a safe and tidy manner for the cats. in the course of getting dressed saw myself in the mirror and i hated what i saw. i tried on clothes that didn't fit how i remembered and saw my body in a way that i did not like and i was flooded with panic. i started pacing around my room and slowly felt like i was losing control of my body. and then i got super scared of the idea of losing control. then i thought, what stops people from just completely losing control and stabbing themselves in the eyes or slashing their wrists? this line of thought made me freak out. i felt like my mind left my body. i found myself sweating and shaking my hands trying to occupy my body better. i've never had a suicidal thought in my life, and this still wasn't exactly a suicidal thought, but more like the thought of "what if i became suicidal?" "what if i completely lost control?" "whats stopping me?". I have no reason to believe this would ever happen, but it disturbed me so extremely. it was ultimately about losing myself. i think it's these lines of thought that are the most harmful or negative to me. they remind me of the thought patterns I would get stuck in the first time I ever went through an intense anxious episode, over 5 years ago when my thyroid was first found to be hyperactive. I thought my brain was poisoned and I would lose my mind and lose myself, my identity. These thoughts revolve around me losing things that are integral to who I am - my intellect, my composure, my ability to think clearly and act rationally.

another thing that has been really bothering me lately is the fear that all this mental stuff i've been going through is going to start eating away at my relationships. i'll become a burden to those around me, or i'll sabotage relationships some other way. all this stuff causes me to have so much doubt in my inner voice. at the best of times, i am so decisive, so confident, so sure. i have such strong moral conviction. its a huge part of my positive outlook on myself. but it feels so eroded by all of this anxiety.

today i thought of looking at graves disease experiences on youtube. i was hoping to see success stories, but they just weren't there. it was all so negative. i mainly saw videos about people with new diagnoses, explaining how they came to discover their illness. these were weirdly unrelatable, which was upsetting and isolating. everyone emphasized the physical symptoms, which for me were never that bad. the worst part was the people in the comments describing how years after receiving their treatments they regressed, got worse than ever, or never really got better to begin with. are these normal graves disease experiences? until today, i really did not think so, but i can't help but have doubt. the impression i've recieved from everything i've read so far is that graves disease is forever, but treatment is effective in managing its effects. there are cases where symptoms flare or come back, but all the reading and speaking with doctors i've done has suggested to me that graves disease is manageable once you identify it and take the steps to address it. untreated graves disease will have the worst symptoms, so as i have started treatment, it can only improve, right? but i feel like im experiencing a regression right now. but is this really even graves disease? what if its something else? what if its just the anxiety and obsessiveness i've always had?

i feel like i go through phases of obsession. right now as i reflect, i feel like its always negative obsession, but i'm not totally sure. maybe i'm just in a negative mindset right now. maybe there are times that this has been focused in a positive way. maybe an example is starting a new relationship, like with david? or starting a new job, like with stolo? but im not sure that i can characterize these things as obsession, the same way i have obsessed over other things. my weight/body, cancer, aids, impending psychosis, loss of my mental faculties or agency of my body. i have cycled through these fears over and over and over again. and i can't necessarily just correlate this to graves disease. i was such a nervous child. i feared the devil. my mom assured me that god would never let the devil come for a little girl, so then i feared that i wasn't actually a little girl but rather that i was literally the devil himself, which scared me even worse. i think that is such a good example of the way my brain works and its so depressing. if i defeat one mental demon then a scarier one will take its place.

when i started writing this, i was in tears and panic. overwhelmed by everything. i feel much better now, even if the tone of this note is somewhat despairing. i need to keep recording my thoughts. i wish i had thoughts to look back on when i was worse than this, over 5 years ago, hiding in my basement and watching roseanne for WEEKS to try to dull the thoughts. and i wish i had thoughts to look back on when i felt happy and normal. because right now its hard to remember those times.