#then the next half hour after that i'm chilling in bed until i start feeling sleepy

[erasedcitizen2]

for anyone else out there struggling with insomnia, I'm sharing this just in case it helps anyone else: my doctor suggested 5 mg melatonin for me. It didn't make me sleep better and also gave me pretty bad side effects like having brain fog the day after, like I was completely unable to think and my reactions were slowed down to the point I would've been a danger in traffic. but I switched to a lower dose of 3 mg melatonin and not only do I have no side effects from that dose but ALSO IT WORKED. I've actually consistently slept 7-8 hours for the past week since I switched dose. I don't know the science behind that but lowering the dose worked better to put me to sleep.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

V ║Raw Edge

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part IV: Notch | Behind the Seams: Part V | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E, a proper E!

Summary: One lazy afternoon, Joel tests your patience.

Warnings: Sexual tension, some language, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, flirting, fingering, explicit grinding, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 2k

Notes: It's been a long and winding road y'all, but I'm finally back with an update on the main series. It is a short one, more of an interlude, but it will get us where we need to go for the next chapter. Thank you for your patience, I don't take you guys' understanding and love for granted for even a second. Releasing this during the Seams sleepover, more drabbles coming your way for the remaining month of March!

Raw edge - the raw, raveling, and unfinished, cut edge of the fabric.

It’s fitting that Joel is a patient man. He’s built for it, after all.

Those broad shoulders, the sturdy thighs, his sure hands - he’s steadfast as the mountains that loom over Jackson.

As the sun shifts over the ridges and valleys of the sierra through the seasons, bringing shadows into light, so does Jackson on Joel, and you learn that he’s many kinds of patient.

On lookout duty, even in the depths of winter, he becomes one with the stillness of the night, patiently watching over the safety of the town in the loneliest hours.

When townsfolk stop him on the high street for neighbourly chit chat, he obliges with polite patience, never rushing, but careful not to encourage conversation that is longer than necessary.

With Ellie, when she prattles on with a long-winded story from school, he listens with amused patience, letting her run her half-full mouth over dinner with half-hearted admonishment.

And with you - he is agonisingly patient with you, and yet, never in a way that leaves any doubt of his want for you.

You cannot be more grateful.

And in turn, you’re patient with him. As the green of summer softens with the tail end of the season, you pick up bits and pieces. You hear whispers of names. Tess. Bill. You glimpse ghosts of his past. Sarah. Frank.

You don’t expect him to, but you have the audacity to hope, that one day, if he finds it in him to let you in, you have shoulders to spare.

When the heat fades and the brisk autumnal chill starts to linger in the morning mist, you start to find that you like it when he’s not patient.

Not necessarily for the lack of patience thereof, but the fact that it’s worn thin by something else.

The way heat bleeds into his eyes when Lucy holds you up after your shift ends, fingers twitching, as if the caveman in him wants to grab you and drag you home, where you have planned on dinner - and more.

When you’re two bodies tangled in your sheets, breath short as he kisses his way down your neck and nips the underside of your breasts, bra cups pushed up only halfway because you’re still too shy to take it off completely. You feel him shudder, nails digging into your skin, nostrils flaring like he’s holding back from ripping the scant fabric off of you.

And late one evening, when you ask him for it, in heated whispers and your lower lip caught in your teeth, he oh so patiently works his fingers inside your wet heat - 

One, then two; 

Slow, then fast; 

Tender, then frantic - 

Until he feels you clench tight around the crook of his fingers for the first time, watch you arch clean off the bed, he bares his teeth and lets out a primal growl at the cry of his name on your swollen lips.

You find the thrill in getting under Joel Miller’s skin.

As the fall deepens, and trees start to shed in golden surrender, you’re caught off guard when he turns the table on you.

You don’t see it coming, your desperation, that lazy afternoon. It’s just another Saturday when Ellie is on her shift at the Outfitter with Lucy, and Joel is spending those free hours with you.

You’re not sure what got him into the mood, but the man is relentlessly teasing that afternoon, almost bratty in the way he toys with you. His hands go everywhere while you’re cooking, squeezing the swell of your ass then going north to cup your breasts, and stopping off everywhere in between.

Tips of your ears burning, you smack the back of his hands - so big and mapped with veins - just so you can get drain the pasta. Joel chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth. ‘I like it when you’re bossy, sweetheart.’

He insists on eating on the sofa, with you between his legs, and you can feel him already hard and straining through his jeans. Neither of you really make a real go at the rapidly cooling marinara, and the plates are quickly pushed to the side as them meal degenerates into a full-blown make out session.

Not yet ready to let him strip you bare or for him to disrobe him completely, clothes hang half unbuttoned and unzipped on you both. The part of your brain that still has enough blood to reason likes it though - the demure flashes of skin under creased fabric, blindly touching and feeling where you can’t see.

Your jeans are pushed halfway down your thighs, bra pushed down under your breasts, the elastic straps digging into your shoulders. His shirt is open down to the second last button, bare chest rubbing against your nipples, the contact making you whine. His belt hangs open and his jeans are unzipped, but before you can reach down, his fingers slide inside your panties, twisted and sticky, teasing your wet folds. 

‘Joel,’ you whimper as he pushes two thick fingers inside you to the knuckle, your pussy slickly opening around him. 

‘Does that feel good, sweetheart?’ he asks, mouthing at your collarbone.

‘More,’ you gasp.

‘I got two in you already -’

Your voice cracks in a sob, your nails digging into his back. ‘Joel, I want more. Please.’

He glances at the clock ticking away on the wall and hesitates. The rational part of him knows that he has to leave in less than twenty minutes to pick up Ellie. But feeling you leak onto his fingers, pushing your hips against him to get his fingers even deeper, his cock twitches painfully hard in his pants.

He breathes through his nose to steady himself. ‘Sweetheart, we don’t have time -‘

‘Joel!’ you whine, almost petulantly.

He stares down at you, eyes wide at your desperation. He’s never seen you like this before, and fuck, he wants to give it to you. Wants to give you what you want, what he wants. What he’s wanted for long fucking months, woken up hard and throbbing dreaming about. But he steels himself - no, not when he’s on the clock, he won’t rush it. He will give you what you deserve, and not an ounce less. 

So he kisses you, long and deep, and bargains with you. ‘Listen, sweetheart, we can’t right now - but if you want to, we can try something new.’

‘Ok,’ you reply without hesitation.

A sharp breath catches in your throat when he eases his fingers out of you, and he brings them up to his mouth to lick them clean, his brow furrowing at your taste, thick on his tongue. Then you watch, transfixed, as he pushes his unzipped jeans down with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles - and his hard cock springs free of its confines. 

It’s taken you many months to drum up the bravery to map his body with your touch, and you’ve mostly done so in the safety of darkness, your shyness holding you back. To see all of him, jutting hard and thick in the stark afternoon light, you don’t even hear yourself whimper at the sight.

Joel holds your gaze as he slowly wraps his fingers around the swollen length and strokes himself, lips parted, watching you watch him. ‘You trust me, sweetheart?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gonna make you feel good, ok?’

His words make you squirm beneath him. ‘Ok.’

Grabbing the base of his cock, Joel shifts, looming over you and pushing your thighs apart so they’re bent at the knees to accommodate him. Then with a delicate finger, he traces under the seat of your panties and pulls them to one side, baring your spread pussy to his eyes. 

Your jaw goes slack the same time Joel bites out a filthy fuck. You know this is the first time he’s laying eyes on you there - you’ve been demure about that, preferring to be nose-to-nose with him while he buries his fingers inside you. But now, watching his eyes go black, nostrils flaring, an inexplicable high goes to your head, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

His eyes fly to yours, and your lips part. Did he see that?

Before you can find out, Joel moves, and you hold your breath when he bows his head right where your legs are splayed open. Distracted by the beautiful chisel of his nose from this angle, you would’ve jumped right off the couch if not for his hands holding you in place when he dribbles spit onto your clit.

You cry out wordlessly, not understanding the visceral reaction of your body to the unexpectedly lewd act.

‘You’re plenty wet for me sweetheart, but this will feel even better,’ he says, spitting again, lower this time, and you tremble at the unfamiliar sensation of the wetness trailing down your folds. 

Tracing a thumb over you, Joel makes a low noise of satisfaction in his chest when it glides over your lips, frictionless. Taking a hold of the base of his cock, he positions the underside of his length in the seam of your folds - and thrusts. 

‘Joel!’ you whimper as the full length of him glides over the lips of your spit-wet pussy, from entrance to clit. He braces himself over you, and you hang onto his impossibly broad shoulders as he carefully rolls his hips, again and again. Rubbing along you just so, making sure you feel all of him despite not being inside you - that will have to wait.

You can feel your panties getting wetter, sticking to your skin, and Joel jolts a gasp from you when he roughly tugs the fabric hard to the side, baring more of you to his drunken gaze, witnessing the mess he’s making of you.

‘Listen t’ you,’ he slurs through gritted teeth, the lewd, wet slide of skin filling his ears. ‘Gonna sound even sweeter when I make you mine, sweetheart.’

With a whine, you arch off the couch, as if chasing the possessiveness in his words. Joel finds a rhythm that has the swollen head of his cock grinding against your clit with every thrust, and above you, he smears open-mouthed kisses over the secret spots he’s patiently unearthed by trial and error, until you’re shaking all over. It’s just what you needed, what you wanted - the elusive more that you didn’t know how to articulate. More than his fingers, but not yet ready to take everything that he can give you.

‘You’re close,’ Joel says, a quiet confidence to his verdict that coaxes a whine out of you. Holding a thumb over his cock, it presses even harder against your clit. His hips quicken in pace, and you know he’s chasing his own release as much as yours. 

‘It’s ok sweetheart, you can let go, let me feel you cum for me, let me feel that pretty pussy -’

And then you’re gone. Any illusion of control over your body is just that, an illusion, when the bubble bursts. White hot pleasure burns through your bloodstream, tendrils of heat blooming and swelling from deep inside you, spilling out your fingertips twisted tightly into his graying curls. 

Over the rush of blood in your ears, you hear Joel stutter fuck, fuck, fuck! before warm cum gushes over you, pooling in your belly button, spilling down your pussy and streaking your thighs. 

Limbs heavy and eyelids drooping, it’s hard to care when the cum stains your panties or the couch below. Not when Joel wraps his arms around you, lips brushing the nape of your neck softly as he brackets you from behind. 

Clinging onto the last vestiges of consciousness, you murmur, ‘You have to pick up Ellie soon.’

He grunts. ‘The little punk can wait.’

You smile, struggling to feel apologetic that the teenager might be waiting a while as Joel’s breathing slows, whistling softly by your ear. 

In the quiet aftermath, his words echo in your head. 

When I make you mine. 

Little does he know, he doesn’t have to - you’re already his.

Notes: Time has really flown by since the last main series update. I've gone through so many ups and downs since, and I really need to thank you guys for giving me the time to figure things out in terms of my writing and how this story will go!

As I mentioned in Behind the Seams: Part V, I have 2 more full length chapters planned for the main series. I don't know if there will be any more after that, but at the very least, I hope that I will be adding to the Seams universe through drabbles and oneshots. I wouldn't write off the possibility of more chapters to add to the main series if I find the inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️

[celestialsoyeon]

I would like to order a Woozi sickfic.Maybe there was a virus in the company and as he usually stays late working he got infected because of his low defenses and when he comes home he feels sick but he ignores it and the next day when he gets up he has a fever and an upset stomach but he decides to hide it during the day. But as the day progresses he feels worse and dehydrated because of how much he has vomited so he ends up asking one of the boys for help and they take care of him and take good care of him.

Hiiii! Here's the headcannon you asked for! I'm not sure whether it's good or not, but I did my best! Happy reading, I hope the person who asked this will like it! Love y'all!

Summary: Woozi always works until late at night at his studio at the company. One night, he feels sick while getting back home. He doesn't think much of it and just tries to sleep it off. The next morning, it's even worse, but he tries to hide it until he can't anymore.

word count: 1,72k

content warnings: sickness, obviously, vomiting, fever, dehydration, kinda delirious/half-conscious, needles/IV

Sickie: Woozi

Caretaker: All the other members, especially Mingyu

Jihoon had been staying late basically every single day since the beginning of this week. He had to. If he didn't who would? And he had a lot of work to do, with the upcoming album release coming up at the end of the month. He had no time to waste chilling or sleeping.

He knew he was pushing himself too hard and that he would end up collapsing, but he didn't care. Not when the group's career could be at jeopardy if he decided to be lazy. He couldn't afford to fall back on his work right now, and he kept working until his eyes were drooping.

When he noticed that, he got up and gathered his things, intending to go back home, deciding that it was enough. He raised his head, glancing at the clock. It was 3 A.M.

He was lucky that Seungcheol had fallen asleep as soon as he got back to the dorms, too tired to even keep his eyes open for five more minutes. He hadn't been sleeping a lot lately, too busy taking care of Seungkwan and his recurring nightmares. Otherwise he would've gotten scolded, as every single time Seungcheol saw him coming back so late at night.

He let out a sigh and walked back to the dorm, putting on his jacket. As he was walking back to the dorm, the only place he would be able to sleep peacefully and get some well-deserved rest, he started feeling uneasy. His stomach was hurting him a bit and he felt a bit sick.

He decided to ignore it. There was no way he'd wake up Seungcheol neither Soonyoung just because he had an upset stomach. Maybe sleeping it off would work and tomorrow would be better?

He just went to bed, careful not to wake Soonyoung up. The dancer was fast asleep and waking him up was really the last thing he wanted. Soonyoung wasn't sleeping a lot either, and although it had always been like that since predebut, Jihoon still didn't want to disturb his sleep. He'd rather throw up all night alone in the bathroom than wake up any of the asleep members.

He laid down in bed, looking at the ceiling, struggling to fall asleep. The pain in his stomach grew stronger. "I'll be fine.. I'll be just fine.. no need to worry them.." He whispered. Soonyoung was too deeply asleep to hear him. And Jihoon ended up falling asleep too. He was too exhausted to even think he'd be able to stay awake for much longer anyway. He hugged tightly the plushie Seungkwan gifted him for his birthday last year, and fell into a deep slumber.

A few hours passed before it was time to get up. When the alarm of his phone rang, Jihoon couldn't help but let out a small whimper. His head was killing him after hearing that sound first thing in the morning. And as if it wasn't enough, his stomach was feeling worse than last night, if it was even possible.

He still got up and acted fine when seeing the other members, despite feeling his stomach churning. Seokmin and Mingyu tried to get him to eat something, but Jihoon just said he wasn't hungry and got ready for work. They had vocal practice in the morning, dance practice in the afternoon, it should be fine, right? He would feel better already.

No. No he didn't feel better. If anything, it got worse.

He still tried to hide it and focus on his work throughout the day, but some of the members were already starting to understand that something was wrong with him. Seungcheol came to check on him, but Jihoon still acted as if everything was fine.

Ten minutes later, he was in the bathroom, throwing up his guts out.

He went back to the others, still acting as if everything was fine.

As they practiced the choreography Soonyoung was teaching them, Jihoon felt even worse and went to the bathroom again. He threw up again, and more than once, at that.

He felt feverish and couldn't even drink. This time, he knew he couldn't hide that anymore. He had to tell them. He had to call for someone. But when he tried to get up, he was too weak to do so. He fumbled in his pockets for a moment, looking for his phone, finding it upon seconds.

But another wave of nausea hit him as he was going to dial Seungcheol's number. He threw up again, and after five other excruciating minutes of throwing up, he could finally call for help.

Seungcheol answered at the first ring.

" 'Hoon? Where are you? Are you alright?"

Given the tone of his voice, he was obviously worried. Very worried. Jihoon answered as best as he could.

"I.. Hyung.. I think I'm sick.. I'm not feeling good.."

"Where are you? I'll get you back home okay?"

"Y..yeah.. I'm.. in the bathroom.."

"I'm coming right away, I'll be with Mingyu, we're getting you back home."

The leader addressed the other members.

"Guys, can someone get Jihoon's belongings and call a doctor to come at the dorm. Tell them we'll be there in around... maybe half an hour? If Hoon doesn't get any worse?"

There was some approving responses from everyone, but Jihoon could barely hear them. He felt more and more tired, that was most likely because of the fever, Jihoon knew it was anything but a good sign. He heard the other members' voices but couldn't understand what they were saying.

Mingyu and Seungcheol both ran to the bathroom, arriving soon at Jihoon's side. Mingyu quickly assessed the situation.

"Uh-oh.. that's not good.. We need to lower his body temperature as soon as we can before he gets delirious or even worse, starts having fever-induced seizures. Believe me, you don't want to have to deal with that shit."

Seungcheol nodded, and held Jihoon's body bridal style, getting him to the van. The motion of the car made Jihoon's sickness even worse and they had to pull over twice so he could throw up again. But after what felt like an eternity, they were back home.

Mingyu carefully laid Jihoon in his bed, and checked on him again. He looked dazed and mumbled incoherently when Mingyu was asking him questions, trying to assess how conscious he actually was.

The answer was that he was out of it. His eyes were open, but he paid no attention to what was happening around him. He didn't mind the cold and wet towels put on his neck and on his forehead. He didn't pay attention to Mingyu shaking his shoulders and call his name. He was there, but barely.

The other members were acting swiftly to take care of Jihoon, preparing soup, water, medications, pillows, plushies. Seungcheol had stayed there, sitting down at Jihoon's bedside, a bucket on the ready in case JIhoon was to throw up again.

He didn't. But he was still very feverish. And that got Seungcheol worried to death. He ended up getting up, pacing nervously in the room. Jeonghan and Seokmin even had to get him out of the room, because he was too stressed out.

They didn't want Jihoon to get anxious or anguished on top of being sick. He was already badly sick, that was enough.

The doctor soon arrived, and just as the members, he looked alarmed by Jihoon's condition.

"We really need to lower his body temperature before he ends up having a seizure. And he needs fluids too, and nutrients."

"He can't eat though", Joshua said in a worried voice. "And even the medications would not stay down."

"We'll have to insert an IV line then. If we don't that might endanger him. But you don't have to worry, we can do it here and he will for sure get better as soon as he receives medication and the appropriate care. His condition doesn't require hospitalization. However, I want that guy at full rest for at least a week. He'll need a lot of rest to recover properly. And if he doesn't get better within the next few days, I want him to get checked properly." The doctor said, looking at them with a gentle but firm stare.

Joshua nodded, reassured by the doctor's words. Seungkwan looked horrified to be told that his hyung would need a goddamn needle into his arms, but the other members reassured him that it wasn't that much of a big deal.

Jihoon would be okay. They all were sure of it. After the doctor administered the necessary care, he left, and all the members relayed at Jihoon's bedside. As the hours ticked by, Jihoon got more lucid, he wasn't that out of it anymore. And that soothed a bit Mingyu who, among the members, was by far the most worried.

He had nearly panicked when the doctor said that Jihoon needed an IV, and Wonwoo had to explain to him, just as Joshua had done for Seungkwan, that it wasn't a big deal and that Jihoon would be just fine.

The first night was the hardest one. At first, Jihoon kept throwing up. But when the medications kicked in, it stopped and soon enough, Jihoon could eat a bit of food. Nothing much, but better than nothing.

Mingyu stayed the whole night with Jihoon, refusing to leave his side, too worried. But he hadn't anything to worry about. Not anymore.

The next day, Jihoon started to get better, though he needed a lot of rest. But he didn't have anything to worry about. His friends, no, his family was by his side to help him through it.

Mingyu was cooking for him, Wonwoo and Jeonghan most of the time keeping silent vigil by his side, the BooSeokSoon trio was usually coming to help him not get bored, and he could get Seokmin's hugs as much as he wanted. He usually didn't like physical touch, but when he was sick, he was basically asking hugs from his brothers. And Seokmin was more than happy to give him.

Little by little, he got better, and as he got better, his bond with his fellow members strenghtened even more than it already was. They would be able to return soon, and in good shape, to their not-so-peaceful but happiness-filled life.

[nilolol30]

ello, friend

i come to ask if you can do a oneshot of a redson x reader where the reader was cursed that every night they would turn into a songbird.

(yay I'm slowly getting better at punctuation I think! If not feel free to give tips! Also this is mostly implied GN reader hope that's alright!)

Redson asked if you'd like to spend the night at his house of course in the moment you agreed without any thought I mean you do get along well with his parents but you forgot your...unfortunate circumstance.

You were going to tell him soon but soon just became sooner than you thought.

You kept three alarms for when it's going to happen one is set an hour and a half second for one hour and third is half an hour until your transformation, you can't be too careful.

It was well after dinner you and Redson were getting ready for bed in his room, you were brushing your teeth while Redson sat upright on the bed finishing up on the last detail on his schedule this week.

Your phone was on the table next to him and the first alarm went off the name of it was 'an hour and a half till it starts' very simple, he assumed it was a reminder for a show or movie you planned to watch.

When you walked out of the bathroom he informed you "Ah your alarm went off dear" it took you a second to realize and immediately you remembered you haven't gotten around telling Redson about the curse.

"Oh uh so Red there's something I should actually tell you" noticing how nervous you suddenly got Immediately he turned off his own devices to give you his full attention, you take a seat next to him on the bed.

And then you begin to explain at first you tried to sugar coat it but then the more you talked the more you began to ramble and then you started spiraling hoping he wasn't upset you haven't told him earlier.

Noticing your spiral Redson gently placed his hand on your shoulder "Dear it's okay something like this could be a sensitive topic, I may not know the origin of this curse but I'm not upset if I was that would be idiotic" a smile crept onto your face.

You put your hand on top of his just as you were about to speak your alarm went off again 'an hour' short and to the point honestly you didn't bother to come up with proper names for them.

Redson leaned towards the bedside table to grab your phone and handed it to you, you put your alarm on snooze "Thanks though...I kinda expected more of a reaction though" Red laughed "Please you forget I'm a demon seeing people with all kinds of curses are just a daily thing I see."

You nodded and both of you sat in comfortable silence, Red though looked like he had something on his mind after a bit "Something wrong?" He gave you a comforting smile.

"No I was just thinking is there anything you need? Like a bird hammock?" Surprised at the question you just burst into laughter Red joining in "No no I'll be fine I'll just chill on the table and wait it out."

Then Redson asked a few more questions, how long do you stay transformed? Are you sure you don't need any items to make it more comfortable? Will you need something to eat? Should he make you a nest?

You answered each question and by then end of it Redson gave a final nod like he was making the final note in his head "Okay then, tomorrow I'll look into finding a cure" with a small laugh you placed your hand on his cheek.

"I won't stop you but don't let it be your main focus okay? It's just a small inconvenience" placing a hand over yours as he pushed himself into your hand he nods "very well dear"

Finally Redson removed his glasses and put his hair down you stayed sitting up your last alarm going off but immediately you set it to snooze as Red got under the blankets "Won't you be laying down?" You shook your head "Tried that once trust me staying above while transforming is better."

You expected Redson to fall asleep after that but he stayed awake reading from a book he kept on the table choosing not to comment any further you both wait not too long when Redson glanced away from you for a split second the flash of light though immediately got his attention and he shut the book as he looked over.

And he saw you, a small songbird he set the book away as he continued to stare amazed you hopped in place for a bit but flew over to his free hand as he admired your feathers.

He smiled "Still as beautiful like you always are" he set your pillow flat so you can have a soft surface to sleep you give him a small chitter of tweets and flew to the pillow you hopped for a bit again and got comfortable.

Redson turned off the lights and laid down.

"I'll see you tomorrow my dear, Sweet dreams."

[devnmon]

Cry.

Warnings: mentions of violence, attempted s/a, gore and blood, descriptions of ptsd and trauma. Do not read if these things trigger you.

word count: 3.3k

A Daryl Dixon x reader comfort/angst fic that is void of pointless plot [except for backstory] and is based off of two things:

The song Cry. by Cigarettes After Sex, and this. [all credit is given to ms. genna dixon, her work creating this audio inspired me to write this, and i hope she enjoys reading this fic as well!]

a/n: This fic has been sitting in my drafts collecting dust and I thought, with the help of madi, that it should finally be given to the fanfic world. I hope you all enjoy, and I'm sorry for whatever feelings arise from reading this. I'm also just really fucking proud of this fic and I really hope everyone enjoys.

Stepping outside, the chilled air from battering rainfall hits your skin, pouring down upon familiar streets. It's about that time of year for cold rain and harsher temperatures, before warmer ones commenced, flipping the forever rain into sunshine.

Pulled away finally from the events going on indoors, the fresh air immediately fills your chest, inhaling until you couldn't anymore. Boots creak under the wooden deck as you saunter closer to the ceaseless precipitation before you back away.

The wooden picnic table a certain archer built was the first thing you spot, up against the wall of the house. You sit, pulling the jean-covered legs in to your chest, to comfort yourself and the way you felt. The pressure of your body scrunched together was relieving for a bit, but it just wasn't working as well as you wanted it to.

Gaze focused on the gravel in the street, a hand rests across your forehead, head reliving a certain memory, one that's kept you sleeping on the couch at night, instead of in bed with your partner. One whom you shared this very house with.

In the moment, it's difficult to distinguish what's real life or imaginary, and the next thing you know, your eyes are squeezed shut to try and shake the images from your mind.

It fails, the man's face already burned into the backs of your eyelids, whether you wanted it to be, or not.

He’s glaring into you, the same way a predator takes notice of it's prey.

With a half-cocked ego and a group of men that listen to his rules, he'd been ruthless.

Your throat dries up, chin trembling with the vulnerability that painted your now shivering body in restless dread. The vile laugh he’d let out reverberated in your mind, pit in your stomach already deepening, the familiar fucking feeling returning to your chest like it was happening all over again.

Though, that could never happen, because the same man whose face had been taunting your sleep ended up on the ground with his throat bitten out by one Rick Grimes.

You owed it to him for saving your lives that night. so much so, that Daryl got more than a little jealous sometimes.

Oh yeah, Daryl.

Your Daryl.

The one you'd fallen for ever since he’d been in the camp, risking his life constantly for the benefit of your group, getting close enough to call you all his family. Especially you.

Daryl, your person, soulmate, best friend, lover, family. He was the only man you saw yourself next to in a world plagued with the dead.

He was there that night, as well. The night of the claimers.

That day the prison fell was one you spent all day and night running with Daryl and Beth to save your lives.

Out of nowhere, Beth was gone, taken in a white car with a cross on the back. You and Daryl ran in the direction the car sped off down for what felt like hours, even after the sun came up.

The powerful sprint the both of you had started off at slowed to a jog, stopping every few minutes until it turned into a walk. You continued going until your bodies downright collapsed on each other's, in the middle of a random road with no idea as to where you were. Your breath wasn't even caught yet before you heard a group of footsteps in the surrounding area.

That's when they came out of the woods and fucked everything up.

The moment they finally came into view, there was something more about the looks on their face that gave away this was premeditated. You figured after a while that they had waited and watched for you both to get worn down from running, that way you didn't have the strength to fight back, even if you wanted to. They moseyed around the both of you, creating a circle of men with no escape.

Which should have been your first sign.

For the next few days, you and Daryl rolled with this group of men that called themselves the claimers, in order to get by on the road before you found your people again. It was part of surviving, making it day to day after the prison fell, determined to find your family again. Daryl thought differently, losing hope in ever finding them, especially after Beth had gone missing.

You stayed extra close to Daryl those days, in fear of what would happen to you if one of the men caught you alone.

The timid act was only to protect yourself, a front you put up so that the men didn't actually speak to or threaten you. When you were spoken to though, you answered to avoid being ‘dropped several times over’, the groups code for being beaten either nearly, or fully to death.

One night, you wondered why there weren't any women in their group, though sooner or later you had figured out why there probably shouldn't be.

Their name is the fucking claimers, what did you expect. It's the way they claim ownership over something, or god forbid.. someone.

All they did when the men realized you two were together was laugh astonishingly loud, calling you a fair share of misogynistic names. Though, nothing changed the way they looked at you.

They didn't back off away from you, either. Only kept staring at you, when you pretended they weren't, muttering sick shit under their breath to entertain the other men.

Daryl came to your defense, threatening each of the men that even stepped too close to you. Those were the nights you were held so close to him, you could've sworn you were part of him now. In a way, you were. But it was one that Daryl wanted to keep for himself, and nobody else.

Daryl was so hell-bent on protecting you those days, he would've done anything. He came as close as starting a fight with one of the men when they wouldn't stop badgering you.

The men didn't back off until Daryl figured out the way to get all of them to leave you and him alone. It was something Joe had said about how the group works, to which Daryl himself said he wouldn't do.

Though he knew in that moment, it was the only way.

"She's claimed."

Most days, you think about what could have happened in that situation way too often. They reoccur in your nightmares, bombarding your brain every time you were finally shut your eyes at night.

Then, it echoes through your head throughout the day, during passing moments when your every being wasn't occupied with some other responsibility.

You had taken up a lot more of those recently, to keep your mind off the whole thing. You had to admit, it was wearing your body out, and the effect of your trauma didn't help at all.

Sure, you had seen every person in your group kill people before, but never the way Rick had that night.

Crimson painted across his face, practically dying his skin with its thickness. There's some on the fur of his jacket, you remember. Recalling the sheer look of terror you held, figure frozen in it's overwhelmed, cathartic state.

At this point in the world, you didn't know if living through a traumatic event as brutal as that one was worse than surviving every day after it, the whole thing reverberating in your head day in and day out.

The most horrific part of it, you think, wasn't the things they said to you days before, and it wasn't the unsettling feeling you got hearing Joe's voice.

It was the moment you hear, "Look, it's the guy who killed Lou."

One of the men in the group speaks out loud, running ahead with some of the group, while you and Daryl trail behind Joe as he catches up with them as well.

Joe had told Daryl about who Lou was a day or so ago, how some guy strangled him in a bathroom. Not curious about why he did it or who the guy was, you'd only listened to him go on about it from afar, aching pit in your stomach again.

The figures of three people camped out in the street were visible, not coming into your eyesight until you follow Daryl into the clearing.

Your eyes finally peel over to the people they've surrounded, and there was Rick and Michonne in the street, weapons aimed at them. There's a car in the road as well, one you realize Carl had been sleeping inside, one of them tapping on the passenger side window with a knife.

The way all three of them looked was terrified, but changed to disbelief when they saw you and Daryl, who pleaded for you to stay back, as he advanced towards Joe.

These people, you're gonna let 'em go. These are good people.

Daryl's words echoed in your head the moment he'd began bargaining with Joe, the nasty feeling you got earlier returning in the form of a racing heart and sweaty palms.

You want blood, I get it. Take it from me, man.

"Daryl, no.." The whisper you speak with is barely loud enough for you to hear over the shakiness of your breath. The only thing you focus on are the words Joe's saying, with the same dreaded feeling in your gut.

"This man killed our friend. You say he's good people. Now that right there, is a lie."

Rick yells out at the same time you do, as one man clocks Daryl in the gut, knocking the fucking wind out of him, another man restraining him as he gets dragged backwards.

Before you can move another foot, you hear the words, 'Teach him boys, teach him all the way.'

They were going to beat Daryl to death, and there was nothing you could do that wouldn't guarantee you wouldn't get the same beating. Backing away as the two men hauled him towards where you'd been standing, a shrill gasp left your chest, covering your mouth in surprise, tear rolling down your cheek.

It wasn't until you get to the other side of the car that you realize Carl's being taken out of it, as you stand at the rear end of the vehicle. As the man noticed you with Carl in his arms, he mutters something under his breath as he reaches for you with a gloved hand.

Feet dragging on the ground, he pulls you both into the clearing lit by the moon against the lanky trees that seemed to tower over the area.

Trying to pull the grown man off of him, you plead endlessly for him to hurt you over the boy. Before you realize he did more to push you off of him than he did to harm you, you'd been shoved to the dirt ground, next to Michonne.

Turning to the woman, your eyes locked in similar terror. These men were nothing like you'd ever met before. Any hope left inside you was washing away with each word out of Joe's mouth.

It isn't long before his cliché comes out, revealing his plan of what his men are going to do to each of you. Joe's talking into Rick's ear, but the tone of voice he used made it feel more like he was explaining to everyone about what was going to happen.

"First we're gonna beat Daryl to death, then we'll have the girls.. then the boy. Then I'm gonna shoot you.. and then we'll be square."

The only thing ringing in your ears was that fucking laugh of his.

Weak eyes pan over to the grunts coming from Daryl as he tries to fight off the two men who have been beating the life out of him for what felt like ages.

Each blow they landed on his torso, legs, face and back was like one to your own body, psyche shattering as Daryl cries out in pain.

"Let him go.."

Rick's hoarse voice speaks, gaze still on the two men beating up his best friend. It isn't until Rick repeats himself, a desperate, dry tone in his voice, that makes you rip your eyes away.

Your vision blurred for a moment before focusing your eyes on Rick again, his dilated pupils filling with rage. In one action, he jolts his head back into Joe's nose, the gun in his hand firing right by his ear.

The shot makes your stomach drop, instinctively flinching, watching him jump up from the ground and finally get a hit on him.

Though, Joe only retaliates with one, two, three blows to the sides of his torso, letting him roll around on the ground before he picks him up off of it. Rick wouldn't have been able to stand without Joe holding him, since beating the hell out of him.

"What the hell are you gonna do about it now, sport?"

You start to hear the same laugh again, before a second passes by and you realize it's stopped. The squelch of flesh rings out, and you realize what Rick's done.

You look up to see his face, drenched in the man's blood, spitting whatever he bit into out of his mouth. The moment settles and he's dropping him to the ground. Then, he goes for the man on top of his son. It isn't long until Rick's brutally stabbing him in the neck over and over, retaliation for hurting his people.

A few more shots fire out as you look over to Michonne taking down the man in front of her and one of the ones on Daryl, before he's punching the other one in the jaw and running to you, pleading to himself that they hadn't done anything to hurt you.

Before you know it, the archer's arms are wrapped around your body, bracing your back, one of his hands caressing the back of your head as well. It isn't until you pull back from his embrace to see the aftermath of being beat on that you break out into tears, his beautiful face bloody and bruised.

"Oh, Daryl.. your face.." your voice breaks on the last word, palms of his hands cupping your face softly, eyes shifting over your face to look for any blood or cuts. A hand wraps around his forearm as his hands cup your face, shushing you quietly.

Michonne holds her arms around Carl's head, and before you know it, Daryl's holding you the same way, one hand rubbing up and down your back.

Though your thoughts run ramped, you take a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the cool air in your lungs calms you the slightest bit.

You've been outside for a while now, long enough to have gotten caught in that traumatic memory. Being in your head for so long blinds you from the fact that Daryl's standing in front of you on the porch now.

Head still dropped, you see the boots he always wears a few feet away from where you were.

"Hey," his gruff voice calls out, your eyes slowly lifting to him, not getting farther than a glance to the side. He can immediately see the state you're in, pupils dilated and glossy from tears leaking down your face.

Eyes glancing back down, not daring to make eye contact, you aren't aware of where the archer is, focusing on the wood porch again.

You know Daryl's seen you like this before, but you only shy away because the event was too overwhelming.

“You alright?” he asks, the low drawl of his voice the first words you’ve heard in a while except for the sound of rain. He’s been sitting by your side, and you haven’t said a word.

Trying to speak, the lump at your throat prevents you from doing so, tongue choking back all the intrusive thoughts that tortured your mind. Your voice breaks in any attempt you had, stopping yourself.

Daryl sees your hesitation, reading your highly unstable state like a book. He scoots closer, more so now that you can feel the heat of his body pursue yours.

“Tell me the truth.” he whispers, his hand rubbing up and down your back, comforting amongst remembering the pain. His touch slows your heart rate and brings you out of your overwhelming head for a moment. The hand on your back is warm, spreading the heat around your entire body.

“I-I can’t..” You choke back the first tears attempting to escape your eyes, trying again to build up the wall that Daryl has so beautifully destroyed, all while he was falling in love with you.

“It’s okay.” He sighs, opening his arms wide to you.

You look to him, another tear falling down your cheek, his thumb swiping it away before your eyes meet his.

“Is it? It doesn't fucking feel like it..” Your nose sniffles as you ask, and when he nods, it’s the most reassuring feeling in the world when he does.

Knowing that everything you're thinking now wont matter one day, grounds you to Earth again. It pulls you from your thoughts, and you try to focus on the man in front of you, wanting to cry into his shoulder as much as you wanted to pepper his face with kisses.

“Come here.” He beckons you towards his body, the warmth of his chest radiating off of him. You climb into his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. Your breath hitches against his chest, and he feels it too, the final push of your walls breaking down around him.

For the first time, you feel free. You feel seen, and you feel loved.

“I know.” He can't fathom the thoughts running through your head, nor what he could do to make sure you never felt this way again.

Daryl has his fair share of trauma from his life experiences before he met you, but after what you've experienced on this constant road together, you find yourselves closer than ever. You and Daryl are both connected through this, intensely and irrevocably.

“Daryl, please dont leave.” You sniffle again, trying to hide the fact that your resolve is breaking and the desire to hide how you really feel diminishes like the crush of an egg shell. It's now that you realize you can’t hide it from him anymore.

“I'm right here.” It’s then your resolve breaks, a muffled sob escaping you as tears drench the cloth of his dark shirt. Your quivering voice fill his ears, one sob after another, making it difficult to breathe at how much you're hyperventilating. Your hands grip at his clothing, palms turning white with how hard you squeeze, nails pressing into your skin to feel something again. Something other than this.

In a moment, Daryl’s touch soothes you in a way you never knew was possible. Nothing else mattered in this moment, other than him being there to comfort you.

All the love and care you had for him were a couple of the reasons your walls that had once been built up began to crack.

“Yeah?” you choke back another sob, and his soft blue eyes meet yours. They're like a deep sea, and with the first glance, you're lost in them all over again. Each time you get caught in his eyes, it's like you're diving into his deep blues like a bottomless pool.

“Yeah.” his hand caresses your cheek softly, palm warm to your touch still, after being in the cold rain.

“Always.” he starts to wipe the tears from your face and you know in that moment he sees you as you truly are. A smile comes easier after a moment of letting yourself feel everything you'd been holding back for what felt like weeks.

“I love you.” He presses a kiss to your hair and you look up at him.

“I love you, Daryl.” Your lips press to his in a delicate kiss, the softness lingering even after you pull away.

“I’ll be here as long as ya need.” Pushing up against his body, the weight of yours lies against him as the rain continued to pour.

a/n: likes + reblogs are appreciated!! it lets me know how much everyone enjoys my writing & sharing to others is a generous thing to do. check out my masterlist

[cyantomatos]

Even Stars Will Fall - Ch 11

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x fem!Reader x Ellaria Sand Word Count: ~3.8k Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, Reader does drink some, more self-deprecation Notes: We have arrived, my friends. I think there's going to be one more chapter after this, possibly two depending on what happens while I'm writing it, and then an epilogue? We'll see where it goes.

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The morning of Oberyn’s name day dawns bright, sunny, and unbearably hot.

You spend the first few hours after the sun comes up sitting on your balcony, gazing down at the garden below. It’s one of the smaller gardens, although ‘small’ seems a bit of an understatement, but it is still bustling with activity today. The main celebrations won’t start until sundown, but guests have been streaming into the palace since yesterday afternoon. A few are milling around in the garden below you, drinking chilled tea swimming with fruit and nibbling on delicate pastries.

A day and a half has passed since you last saw Oberyn and Ellaria. You spent the entire day after the birth holed up in your room, swimming with guilt over leaving them like that while you simultaneously assured yourself they wouldn’t have wanted you around. They might be interested in you for now, but that doesn’t mean they want you around for moments like that.

When you’d arrived back at your room after leaving them, though, your gift for Oberyn was waiting on your bed, presumably delivered while you were away. Which left you with the dilemma of if you still planned to attend the party.

As you sat watching the guests below, you decided you would attend. You still needed to give Oberyn his present, and besides, you had promised him you would go.

Even if you weren’t sure he still wanted you there.

Hours later, just as the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon, you dragged yourself away from the balcony to get ready. Something felt like it was missing as you slipped your dress on, the burnt yellow fabric whispering against your skin in the silence.

The last time you wore this dress was when you tried it on with Ellaria. When you’d felt pinned by Oberyn’s gaze and the only thing holding you up was her presence behind you.

Tears burn in the back of your throat as you study yourself in the mirror. It feels wrong, to cover yourself in his color and symbol when you’ve been hiding from them both, but you haven’t had the chance to wear it yet, and a small part of you hopes Oberyn will like you wearing it to his party. It felt wrong to wear his colors, it felt wrong to get ready without Ellaria, it felt wrong to hold yourself away from them like this, it all felt wrong. It felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest where they were supposed to be and you didn’t know how to fix it.

You rubbed at your chest like it could make the ache go away, mentally fighting with yourself over if you should still even go. The present sitting on your bed felt like a looming elephant, though, and you wanted to at least give it to him. 

Your feet feel like lead as you walk down the halls, voices filling the air around you. It feels like everyone in Dorne must be here, and you aren’t at all surprised to see that Oberyn didn’t limit the guest list to only those with money and titles.

The decorations seem to get more and more elaborate and eye-catching as you make your way through the halls, and by the time you get to the main hall your head is swimming at the amount of wealth on display. You’d passed several windows draped with cloths that you weren’t entirely certain weren’t spun of pure gold with the way they shimmered, and the people were just as elaborately decorated. 

The main hall, however, still managed to take your breath away.

You’d only seen the room once since you got here, and even empty it was an impressive space. Decorated for the party, however, it was astonishingly beautiful. The vaulted ceiling had been draped with more of that shimmery fabric combined with more fabric in a rainbow of jewel tones to resemble the top of a circus ten. Jewel encrusted lanterns hung from glittering ropes all across the room, providing enough light to see by while throwing dramatic shadows across the walls and columns. The expansive marble floor had been practically covered in rugs in a dizzying array of colors and patterns, with plush cushions and chairs scattered around between a combination of low tables for the guests to sit at and standing-height tables loaded down with seemingly endless platters of food. The center of the room, normally where you would walk between the now fabric-wrapped pillars to approach the throne at the other end, was clear of rugs. A group of musicians sat to the side of the main dais, playing what you assumed was a variety of songs from across Westeros to accommodate the guests that had traveled from other cultures. The dance floor was crowded, a sea of different cultures of dress, the typical flowy fabrics of Dorne swirling next to the stiff collars of the northern climates. 

Apparently, you had managed to underestimate the lengths they would go to for a prince’s name-day celebration. What on earth would a celebration for the ruling prince’s name-day look like?

Before you could contemplate that simply absurd question, three people at the other end of the room caught your eye. Doran was sitting on the throne, smiling off to his right where Oberyn stood. The moment your eyes landed on him he threw his head back, laughing at whatever his brother had just said. He practically glowed in the light of the lanterns, and the ache in your chest doubled at the sight. Ellaria stood by his side, resplendent in a deep red dress, a wide smile on her face as she gazed up at Oberyn. You were a little surprised to see her up and walking so soon, but with how easy the birth had gone, she must have been cleared to attend. Not that you could really see any doctor or midwife or anyone being able to tell her not to do something she wanted to do.

For once you were grateful for the overwhelming number of people crowded around you, because neither of them seemed to notice your entrance. Rather than tempting fate by standing and staring you turned away, making your way to the already sizeable pile of presents by the open arches that lead out into the main garden. You couldn’t see much through the gauzy fabric and strings of beads draped over the openings, but you knew it was beautiful if the other gardens were anything to go by.

You set your present on the pile and turned, unsure of what to do with yourself now. Before you could make a move towards one of the food-laden tables, a chill ran over your skin, and a second later a hand slid into the bend of your elbow.

“Hello, my dear. Would you do me the honor of a dance?” Rylan pulled you out into the crowd on the dance floor with a vicelike grip before you could react, and you had to fight down a surge of panic. The rational voice in your head was saying you were in the middle of a crowd, he couldn’t hurt you here, but that wasn’t doing anything to stop the instinctual panic that arose at the sight of him.

Rylan’s smile was tight, the friendly edge gone. He swept you up in an unfamiliar dance, practically dragging you around the dance floor. “Have you thought any more about my offer? I do hope you have come to your senses and realized how generous I was being, my dear.”

The confidence in his tone snapped you out of your panic, and instead rage welled up inside you. How dare he? He thought he could accost you at his cousin’s name-day party and continue to badger you about a marriage proposal you had already rejected? You stiffened in his hold, glaring up at him, some small satisfaction blooming in your chest at the way he immediately seemed to brace for your response.

Before you could tell him off, however, a hand on his shoulder stopped your movement across the floor. Oberyn stood behind his cousin, a tight smile of his own betraying the cool confidence with which he spoke. “Pardon the intrusion, cousin, but I would very much enjoy a dance of my own with our resident mystery.” 

You could see the internal fight on Rylan’s face, and a sadistic little part of you hoped he would decide it was worth the confrontation to refuse Oberyn. It would be so satisfying to watch Oberyn put his cousin in his place.

Unfortunately, sense won out, and the lord stepped aside with a stiff gesture. “Of course, cousin. It is your party, after all.”

With an unreadable glance at you Rylan stalked off, and you were left with Oberyn. As you forced yourself to make eye contact with him, it felt like the two of you were standing alone despite the crush of people moving in your periphery. There was a small bubble of space around the two of you, likely the guests not wanting to jostle the prince.

Oberyn smiled, and your chest gave another squeeze. It was a genuine smile, although the tightness at the corners of his eyes betrayed how anxious he must feel as he held his hand out to you. “May I have this dance, sunflower?”

You wanted to say no. Well, no, you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and apologize for leaving and take whatever the two of them were willing to give you for however long you got it. But something small inside you still tugged backwards, still insisted you would just get hurt and it wouldn’t be worth it. 

You swallowed all your conflicting emotions down, attempting a smile and taking his hand. “Of course, who would deny the guest of honor?” 

There was a flicker of something in Oberyn’s eyes as his hand closed around yours, possibly pain at the insinuation you only accepted because it was his party, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he pulled you into the dance as a new song started. It was the exact opposite of how Rylan had “lead” you before, and you actually felt like you could keep up with what was going on as Oberyn swept you around the dance floor.

After a moment of silence he glanced down at your dress, a different sort of smile spreading across his lips as he looked back up at you. “The color still looks stunning on you, sunflower. It suits you.” There’s a truckload of insinuation behind that statement, you can practically hear it in his words, and you mentally preen at the praise from him. 

Outwardly you give a small smile and a little shrug. “I thought it appropriate, given the occasion.”

Oberyn leans in closer, smile morphing slightly with an emotion you can’t quite place, his arms keeping you close to him. “You could not have been more right. I would have you wear no other color for the rest of time if I could.”

The reminder of what he’d asked of you, what you know he still wants from you, squeezes tightly down on your chest. Your smile falls, and something like panic flickers through Oberyn’s eyes. Before you can say anything he brings the two of you to a sudden stop, hands shifting so one holds your elbow and the other gestures towards the open arches out into the darkening garden. “Would you like to see the gardens? I have heard that Solomon outdid himself decorating them this year.”

You hesitate again, worried about being alone with him, but when you turn to glance at where he’s gesturing you find Ellaria standing next to an archway with a somewhat guarded smile on her face. Without even thinking you take a step towards her, and Oberyn takes that as a yes. He guides you over, a brilliant smile lighting up his face.

“Look at what I found, my love. A sunflower to grace us with her beauty.” Ellaria’s smile turns more genuine at the comment, and her eyes slide between the two of you. “It is a wonder Solomon lets her in the gardens, with how she must upstage his hard work.”

Your face heats at their words, and you duck your head to avoid their eyes. You know you shouldn’t let their words get to you, it’ll just make it worse when you leave them again, but you can’t help it. It’s like there’s a string in your chest tugging you towards both of them, and you’re powerless to ignore it.

Oberyn leads you out onto the patio outside the arches, and the garden really does take your breath away. The trees are strung with more of the shimmery fabric, lanterns hanging from the branches casting shafts of light across the fabric and ground. There’s more of the rugs and pillows out here on the cobblestone patio, and you wonder for a moment where they all came from. At this rate, half the budget for the party has to be rugs and pillows.

He leads the two of you out past the edge of the patio into a hedge maze, and you idly wonder what the plant making up the walls of the maze is. It can’t be a normal bush in this climate, and then you start to wonder who keeps up with what might be a very finicky plant.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a chuckle, and turn to see the two of them watching you with soft smiles. You frown, looking up at Oberyn with a question in your eyes, and he shrugs. “You were lost in thought, sunflower. About the plants, yes? It suits you.”

Before his words can truly sink in and fluster you he takes a step back, letting his hand slip off your arm, and you silently mourn the loss of contact. That’s when you notice he holds your present in his other hand, and he holds it up with a grin. “May I? This is really the only present I was looking forward to tonight, anyway.”

You nod, looking down at the ground to avoid looking at him. “I wasn’t sure you’d want it. Or want me here, really, after what I’ve said to you.”

Ellaria’s hand settles on your arm, and you look up to see her smiling softly at you, and edge of pain coloring the otherwise happy expression. “You could never say anything to make us wish you away, sunflower.”

Oberyn pulling the top off the tube that holds your present saves you from responding, and you watch anxiously as he tips the contents into his hand. His brow furrows when a rolled tube of paper falls out, eyes flickering up to meet yours for a split second before he unrolls the paper.

You see the moment that understanding dawns on his face, and his eyes flicker back to you filled with so much emotion it almost makes you stagger. He looks back at the paper in his hands, just staring at it for a few seconds before he tilts it so Ellaria can see. Her own eyes go wide as she shifts towards him, and fill with tears a moment later as her hand comes up to cover her mouth.

Oberyn looks back at you, and you wonder if stunning the Prince of Dorne speechless is this easy for other people.

“Sunflower…is this what I think it is?”

You shrug, taking a few steps until you stand at his side, looking at the painting for yourself. “I can’t read your mind, blessing or curse that may be, but I’m assuming it is.”

He’s holding a painting, lovingly rendered, and you have to admit it is astonishingly good for the limited time you gave the artist. It isn’t a perfect replica, there was only so much describing that you could do and he had to interpret what you said, but it’s so close you’d be fooled if it wasn’t half the size of the original.

You’d gifted him the painting that brought you here. Of him and Ellaria, with her sitting gazing up at him like he hung the moon and his hand on her shoulder like he couldn’t stand to ever be parted from her.

The thought sends a pang through your chest, and you shift away from him in preparation to step away. His hand snakes out though, fast as his nickname, and grips your wrist to keep you by his side. “We need to talk, sunflower.”

You look up at him, your heart stuck in your throat suffocating the words you want to say. Ellaria reaches out, placing her hand on your shoulder, and her eyes are wide and pleading when you look at her. “We’ve done this all wrong, my sweet. We thought we needed to give you time, we were afraid to scare you, and instead we pushed you away anyway.”

Now you’re confused. What is she talking about? Your confusion must show on your face because Oberyn takes a deep breath, calmly rolling the painting back up and oh-so-carefully placing it back in the tube like he’s afraid it will crumble if he handles it too roughly. Once he has it stowed away he leads you over to a stone bench, one of many scattered throughout the maze, and sits with you between the two of them.

“Ellaria and I have felt a pull towards you since you arrived here. Neither of us recognized it because we thought it impossible, but Amphise confirmed what we should have already known the day we took you to her.” He pauses here, looking at Ellaria for a moment, and her hand comes to rest on your back. Your gaze is stuck on Oberyn, however, and there’s a growing feeling that reminds you of dread but not quite stuck in your chest.

He looks back at you, taking one of your hands in his, and you think it might be more to ground him than to do anything for you. “Apparently, according to the seer, it is possible for soulmates who have already found each other to share a second soulmate.”

You have to think back for a moment, trying to remember if you’d had any of the strong Dornish wine before you came out here, because you must be drunk. Oberyn cannot be implying what you think he is. Maybe you fell? With how hard Rylan was dragging you around the dance floor it wouldn’t be much of a surprise to discover you’d fallen and hit your head and hallucinated Oberyn practically confessing that you were his and Ellaria’s second soulmate because that could not be happening-

You hear your name, and it snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. Ellaria has come around to stand next to Oberyn instead of sitting behind you, and your gaze snaps up to her. She looks concerned, and it makes your chest squeeze until you realize she’s concerned about you. You’ve just been sitting there, silently staring at Oberyn. You look back at him, frowning. “Oberyn if this is a joke it’s not-”

“I would not joke about this. I am being entirely serious, sunflower.” He’s watching you, studying you, tensed like he thinks you’re going to bolt, and you don’t entirely blame him. 

You look back and forth between the two of them for a few seconds, still processing, before you manage to force out “A-are you…am I…?”

Ellaria nods, breaking out in a tentative smile now that you seem to actually be processing what Oberyn said. “Amphise confirmed it. She was the one to confirm that Oberyn and I are soulmates. She believes that your tie to us is what finally pulled you into our world where you belong.”

Oberyn chimes in, “We believed, coming from your world, that you would feel pressured if we told you immediately. The plan was to convince you to be with us without the pressure of a soul bond, that way it was your choice.” He glances up at Ellaria with a rueful twist to his lips. “That did not go to plan. Entirely my fault, in this case, I will take the blame. I have never known how to be subtle or wait for what I want.”

What he wants. You are what he wants, what they both want. The thought is suddenly so crystal clear in your head that you feel tears welling in your eyes. Oberyn looks panicked at the sight, and it only makes you laugh, tears streaming down your cheeks. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest, knowing now that they had been pursuing you out of genuine want and not just to fill a space in their bed.

Ellaria is laughing, too, and Oberyn’s panicked gaze fixes on her next. “What? What is wrong, did I say something wrong again?”

You grin, a wide, cheek splitting grin, and shake your head. “No, you haven’t said anything wrong, Oberyn. You’ve finally said everything right.”

The panic bleeds off his face at your words, a smile of his own replacing it, and pure happiness shines through on his face. You giggle again, drunk off happiness and a feeling of finally belonging, and Ellaria’s hand cups your cheek to tilt your face up towards her. “Your laughter is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard, my soul.”

The three of you end up separated at the end of the night. Ellaria heads to bed first, still tired from the birth despite how well she is handling it. Oberyn convinces you to stay, and you spend hours at his side dancing and feasting and positively glowing with all the attention from him. He makes it clear you belong to him and Ellaria now, one arm wrapped possessively around your waist for most of the night, and he only allows you to leave his side once the hours creep towards the morning and you beg off for sleep. You aren’t comfortable sharing a bed with them, yet, so you head off to your own while Oberyn stays behind to play the dutiful host.

You stumble into bed, not even bothering to pull off your dress, drunk on happiness from the evening you had.

You aren’t sure how long you’re asleep, but it can’t be that long, because when your eyes blink open your room is still dark. Your necklace feels like ice strung around your neck despite the warmth of your room, and you can’t place what woke you up for a few seconds, exhaustion and Dornish wine clouding your thoughts. Before you can figure it out you hear a voice that crawls across your skin like a spider from behind you. 

“I told you to be careful how you speak to powerful men, my dear.”

Your world goes black.

I would like for all of you to remember that if you kill me, I cannot finish the fic <3

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[argentinagp]

so in 2016, i was scrolling tumblr when i saw these selfies reblogged by my mutual. it was of a girl sitting on some breakers near the lake with a caption about it being the one nice day of the year so far. i was like wait. is this person also in Wisconsin? so i went to her blog and lo and behold, she was. so i scrolled through her stuff and found out that we had a lot of the same interests. so i followed her. (what i didn't know at the time was that she'd been following me for awhile).

soon after, she posted something about her mom and being upset and i was like hey. i know all about that kind of stuff so i messaged her to talk to her and we chatted a bit. we started chatting more and more and eventually ended up in a group chat with two of my friends talking about (of all things) one direction. but we kept up our private convo where we talked about literally everything.

then in june of 2016, my mom was rediagnosed with cancer and had surgery. she talked to me through all of this and was there when i was upset an then i made the decision to go home to california for all of july to help my mom out. so i was suddenly on west coast time while she was on central time. and we talked all the time. on snapchat, via text, on tumblr, everything. and slowly, i was like wow. i really like this person. like, a lot. and we talked about her exploring her sexuality and i was like if she's exploring her sexuality i cannot like, come onto her so i'm going to remain chill and be her friend while she needs one.

but through all of this - we had matching layouts on tumblr. multiple different matching layouts. as friends. and then on like, july 12 2016, a bunch of anons came into my inbox calling us grizzy and grazzy and asking about us being like "(eyes) why are you matching" and it was all very silly but it kept me smiling during a really hard time.

and again. we talked all the effing time. the whole month of july. and i had stopped saying "omg i love you" like a friend and started doing "ily" bc my feelings were HUGE i was def like, head over heels. fell very hard very fast.

so then i flew back to wisconsin and literally within days, she was flying to europe for her godfather's birthday celebration. and we tried to text through all of it, i remember sneaking my phone out at work to text her and send her selfies and we counted down the days until she was back in america because it was horrible trying to text across countries with unreliable wifi for her.

and then she landed in wisconsin again and we were talking all again and suddenly she invited me to her house, an hour and a half away, for a bonfire on august 14th. and i was like. sure sure i can do this. let's uh do this. i had no idea what was going to happen. i was unsure of it all, very much like "we're just friends" mindset. and so i drove all the way to her city with butterflied in my stomach, terrified she didn't like me or that we were just friends or we wouldn't click in person, and boy was i wrong. we clicked immediately, hugging and getting along. and we went to get food and our hands kept brushing. and we sat around the bonfire holding hands awkwardly. and then her roommate said she'd leave for the night so i could sleep in her bed instead of grace's bed because she had a twin. and the futon was uncomfy.

and then sometime after midnight, after laying there talking and giggling and generally being awkward, i kissed her. the next day we went to the pancake house as our "first date" and walked to a beach on the lake and then i got vertigo and threw up like, 18 hours into us dating and slept at her house for a whole day (called out of work) and stays at her house for like. three days? basically. i was there for awhile.

and now, 8 years later, grace and i are married and living our best life with two cats and a cozy apartment <3

🥹🥹🥹 this is SOOOOO cute and makes me so happy. I always love when u or grace talk ab each other, there is so much love and your story is the best thing, im honored i can be mutuals of you two and see ur love in my dash 🫶🏻

send me ur love story/crush/etc

[thefrontofmymind]

Lonely This Christmas (matty healy x reader)

a/n: happy holidays yall!! hope you enjoy this, i'm working on a couple requests at the moment and hopefully i'll have something else up before the new year! any feedback is greatly appreciated, kisses!!

SYNOPSIS: Reader is spending Christmas alone, so is their next door neighbour who apparently doesn't know the volume of his speaker system

WARNINGS: brief hints of smut, and like making out, also alcohol consumption

When you were younger, you couldn’t fathom spending Christmas sad; it was a day of joy and family and festivities–and yet here you were on Christmas Eve, alone in a city without your family, recently broken up with, and no friends (they all sided with your ex in the breakup, you tried to think positive, think ‘if they were going to do that, I probably didn’t want to be friends with them anyway’, but you couldn’t deny you weren’t loving the lonesome feeling), with no way to go see the ones you loved.

You tried to make the best of it, you’d made yourself a small dinner, and was practically sunken into your sofa for the entire day, going between all the holiday films you enjoyed so much in previous years, but now they just reminded you of your desolation.

It was starting to get dark–you turned on your fairy lights that were spun around the tree in the corner of your living room, and lit a gingerbread-scented candle. You could feel the despair bubble further and further up into your chest and weave its way into your mind. You knew tears were bound to fall soon enough, so in a fight you were sure to lose, you folded yourself into your duvet on your bed, hoping–praying–you’d get to sleep before they did.

Of course, it was still far too early to go to sleep, so you laid there, not moving among the silence of your apartment. You wondered if anyone was even in the building apart from you–you had seen a solid amount of your neighbours begin to pack up and shuffle out to their families or holiday destinations starting on about the 10th of the month, you tried not to let it concern you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the big day though, obviously, it had affected you, a lot.

You felt hopeless, there was nothing you could do, apart from lay there and wallow in sadness–your whole timeline was of your friends enjoying their evening, and you knew you wouldn’t cope seeing that.

Soon enough, tears began to fall, and you silently cried to yourself for what seemed like hours. Every time you’d begin to calm yourself, another sob would erupt from your chest and you’d start back at square one, completely outside of your control.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but eventually exhaustion took over and you fell into a state of uneasy sleep, until you were awoken by a thumping, droning noise through your wall. You were sure it was well past midnight–the December chill had gotten into your sheets–and it kind of irked you that your next door neighbour was inconsiderate enough to blast music in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve.

In hindsight, you figured it was the lethargy that made you get up out of your bed–duvet wrapped around your shoulders–march to your neighbour’s door, and pound the living shit out of it until you got an answer.

You were greeted with the guy that you’d seen coming and going pretty frequently in the couple months you’d been living in the apartment building, though you didn’t know he lived next to you. He was dressed still in his coat–though you could see his shoes had been kicked off probably right as he got in the door–and he was holding a half-empty bottle of red wine in his hand and a delirious, hazy look in his eyes, and he was indeed blasting some slow jazz ballad throughout his apartment.

“Can I help you?” he said after opening the door and taking a good look at you, no doubt the duvet and angry look on your face weren’t what he was expecting.

“Yeah-hi-sorry, can you just turn the music down? I’m next door and I can’t really sleep with the racket.” You didn’t want to be rude, he seemed to be having just as hard of a time as you.

“Oh, sorry, I-uh didn’t realise there was anyone around, sorry,” he slurred.

“Likewise.”

You didn’t walk away, and he didn’t close the door in your face; instead you both just eyed each other in a moment of silence, trying to get a read on each other. There seemed to be a mutual understanding–of solitude, of loneliness. It tugged on your heart strings a little when he opened the door with such a look of shock, surprise and confusion, and you couldn’t quite let it go.

“Look, would you wanna join me for a glass?” He motioned to the bottle in his hand. “In the name of festivity?”

You couldn’t say no, so with a hesitant agreement, you stepped through the door and followed the man–who quickly introduced himself as Matty in passing–to the kitchen. His flat had the same layout as yours, but he’d decorated it far differently. There wasn’t a Christmas decoration in sight, and you noticed a turntable and a shelf full of vinyl records in his living room.

“So what’s the story? Why aren’t you with anyone?” He handed you a glass, while he kept on for himself, and leaned on the kitchen counter between the two of you. “If you don’t mind me askin’”

You figured he was likely half-torn by this time of night, so you really didn’t mind. “Couldn’t afford the ticket home this year, so I’m kind of just stuck here.”

He nodded, not knowing quite how to answer.

“And you? Surely you have people you could be with?”

Matty shook his head and sighed before answering. “You don’t know me, so you don’t know that I can be a bit of a prick from time to time, and I said some stuff that pissed of my family and got be uninvited to Christmas dinner, and all my mates are either away or with their own families and kids and shit, so I kind of have no one this year.” 

Now it was your turn to have no answer.

“At least we have each other, right?” Matty continued with a smile–how ever self-deprecating it seemed. You returned the smile and took his guidance to go to his living room.

You sat on his sofa–leather, and so soft you almost sunk to the floor when you sat down–while he put his wine glass next to your’s and shuffled to his turntable and sound system, turning down the volume and flipping the record that had finished one side.

“A big music fan?” you asked, noting the collection, as well as the plethora of instruments that sat around the room.

“Oh yeah,” he replied, taking off his leather coat and tossing it over the back of the sofa before taking a seat next to you–still with your duvet. “Music is like my lifeblood, it’s the only thing that really keeps me going these days.”

“That’s good,” you commented.

“Yeah, but it can make or break a bad night, you know? Like I’ve been recording this song, and it’s-it is exactly what I seem to be going through right now, and I didn’t write it to be honest or sincere, but somehow it’s turned into that, and it scares me, honestly��” he rambled–though you didn’t mind, it was kind of fascinating to watch him think about it and go through it in his head. “I’m sorry–I know that that’s made it all about me…I’m sorry…”

“No! No, its good to get these thoughts out…” You didn’t really know how to explain your attraction to him, not explicitly in a sexual way–though you couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t the least bit attractive–but more in the way that he just had a magnetic energy about him. He was like a car crash that you couldn’t help but watch.

“Look, can I just play you the song so you see what I mean?” You nodded quickly and he pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and tapped away for a second. “Now this is just a rough demo, my mate, George, hasn’t done all his producing magic on it yet so you’ll have to just deal with my shitty editing skills.”

It felt good to laugh a little, even with a complete stranger. Matty pressed play and your ears were filled with the sounds of a slow piano riff, followed by vocals.

“I get out my records

When you go away

When people are talking

I miss what they say

'Cause it all means nothing, my dear

If I can't be holdin' you near

So tell me you love me

'Cause that's all that I need to hear

I sit in my kitchen

With nothing to eat

With so many friends I

I don't wanna meet

'Cause I don't need music in my ears

I don't need the crowds and the cheers

Oh, just tell me you love me

'Cause that's all that I need to hear

I've been told so many times before

But hearin' it from you means much more

So much more

Reply to my message

And pick up my calls

You see, I wrote you a letter

It was no use at all

Oh, I don't care if you're insincere

Just tell me what I wanna hear

You know where to find me

The place where we lived all these years, oh

And tell me you love me

That's all that I need to hear

Oh, tell me you love me

That's all that I need to hear”

Matty locked his phone and put it back in his pocket, looking at you with softened eyes–silently asking for your approval. Though you couldn’t think of anything to say–every time you thought of something, the tears that made a film over your eyes got closer and closer to filling. You’d never been moved by music like that before. Matty just sat, watching you stutter, while biting his nails.

“That was…” you eventually started. “That was just…wow.”

“Wow-good? Or wow-don’t-be-stupid-and-think-that’s-decent-enough-to-release?” He asked with a nervous smile.

You returned the smile, though a lot more sanguine. “Wow-good. For sure!” You laughed, almost in disbelief. “Wow-so-good, oh my god, Matty!”

He became giddy right along with you, pulling you in for a hug that you returned, placing your arms around his shoulders, which in turn, enveloped him in your duvet with you. Neither of you moved back to your original positions straight away, just sitting together on the sofa, surrounded by the warmth of your duvet.

“When you said you were going to play me a song, I expected some crap Garage Band song, but that-” You paused. “Was a masterpiece.”

“Don’t flatter me too much, my ego can’t take much more,” Matty joked. You noticed his hold of your waist grew every so slightly tighter as he rested his head on your shoulder, though you didn’t want to comment on it in fear he’d retract; it was warm, and comfortable–not the hold of someone you’d never even spoken to half an hour ago, it was purely perplexing to every facet of your social thought process.

You weren’t sure where the time went, but soon enough the two of you had burnt through the bottle of wine and began working on another one. You just couldn’t keep away from each other, there was something cosmic that was drawing you to one another and who were you to deny that? You spoke of everything you’d experienced, as did Matty, and any thought that came to your mind. 

With your arms around each other and faces inches away from contact, it felt homely, and secure, and in all honesty, the most natural thing you’ve done in the recent months of discomfort, loneliness and anxiety. You didn’t fail to notice each time Matty’s eyes would flicker to your lips as you spoke, and you were sure he didn’t miss when you’d do the same to him.

Maybe you were lonely, maybe you were a bit too drunk, but somehow you had enough built up courage to do what your mind had been subconsciously begging you to do pretty much since you walked in the door. You simply blew caution to the wind and closed the gap between the two of you.

Matty quickly leaned into the kiss and placed his hands firmly on your waist, though within a matter of minutes, they began to wander.

You were almost caught off guard by how good he tasted, the sweetness of the red wine you’d both been drinking hit your tongue, and there was a hint of smoke, though only faint, that made the notion that much more perplexing to you.

You lightly bit on his bottom lip, causing him to let out a small moan into your mouth–it made you smirk in the kiss, you were already learning so much about him.

It was Matty that pulled away first to get a proper breath in, though still with his hands on you. There was a look in his eye–a look that you could only describe as impassioned–and you were sure he could see the same glint in your’s. You’d never quite had a kiss like that before, so full of passion and urgency, yet totally spontaneous.

While you both panted a little, you grabbed his hand that was currently still squeezing the flesh on your right hip, and held it closer to your face. You examined his hand, not for any particular reason, simply out of curiosity.

“You have nice hands,” you said, earning an assiduous laugh from Matty.

“Thank you, darling.” He took control back of his hand and gently placed it on your cheek. “Want me to show you what they can do?”

He didn’t wait for your answer after he saw the way to smirked at him, once again ridding the air in between you. The kiss quickly deepened, as Matty moved slightly so you could straddle him, as his hands moved from your face to the backs of your thighs. You were beginning to get restless and frustrated. You pulled away to look at him again before placing a line of chaste kisses down the column of his neck.

Clothes were quickly shed and before you knew it, you were on Matty’s bed, cuddled into his side, basking in a sweaty, out of breath glow. You took his hand again, which made him chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence between you. He turned his head to look at his bedside table, you weren’t sure why until he spoke.

“Hey, look, it’s past midnight.” You twisted a little to see the small clock sitting on the side, showing a time just before 1 AM. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas,” you said back with a smile.

[kuumara]

Behind closed doors

Mike's acting weird today, Will thinks. I mean, he's always weird, but today is a different kind of weird day. He is acting a lot more... cooler. Acting because he's not being cool, but he's trying.

However, no one else seems to think this way. Everyone falls for it, even Max. Maybe she's just being sarcastic, though, Will can't tell.

Will watches Mike from the other side of the lunch table as he's playfully arguing with Max, who thinks Mike's insults are funny and goes along with them. Will has to have woken up in a different reality.

Mike catches Will's gaze, and first Will sees a range of emotion crossing his face, but as if that never happened, he goes back to his "chill" demeanor. He smiles at him.

"Well, are you going to take a picture or just stare?" Mike says with a smooth voice. Will splutters, flustered, but everyone laughs it off. In normal circumstances, if Mike had done this he would probably have to excuse himself to the bathroom or somewhere where he can scream in peace. But this isn't normal, Mike doesn't act like this when he's normal. Or he is normally like this, but that would mean Will really did wake up in another universe.

Mike looks at him with a look that, even in unnormal circumstances, makes Will melt, and then goes back to talking about something with the others.

Will looks around the table, to see if anyone thinks this isn't normal as well, but all he gets is Lucas meeting his eyes, returning Will's questioning look.

"Do you think he's okay?" Will asks Lucas when they walk together to geography class. "Mike, I mean," he adds when Lucas doesn't respond for a moment.

"I know, right? Part of me thinks he's just- grown up, or something, y'know. It's weird, he's acting like he's always been like this. It's off-putting, disturbing, surreal-"

"Why do you think he's like that? You think he's alright?" Will interrupts him.

"I- I dunno, man. Ask him," he quickly says, after they have to shut up since the teacher has already started talking.

Will and Mike are walking home together. Mike has been the one to afford walking him home, but he's acting all awkward now. Like he's regretting it, Will thinks, and the thoughts start pouring in.

"Will," Mike shakes his shoulder, gently. Will's been lost in his head for a while, they've already walked across a whole street.

"Will," Mike repeats, looking at him with big eyes filled with concern. Will looks up at him, after successfully swallowing down his tears.

"Yeah," he mumbles. He doesn't want to look at Mike's eyes, the guilt would be too much and he really doesn't feel like crying in a middle of a random street.

Mike's quiet for some moments, like he's thinking.

"Do you wanna study at your place? I really don't get biology," he says, eventually. Will looks up at him, with a smirk on his face. Finally Mike's not acting weird anymore, everything's alright. He nods, happily, and Mike smiles back at him.

After just half an hour of studying, Mike is already a complaining, groaning mess. "Holy shit, what the hell is this," he whines while sliding off Will's bed to the floor.

"Biology," Will laughs and pulls Mike's legs to get him back on the bed. Mike obliges and falls on his back next to Will, looking up at him.

"Do you think I'm unlikeable?" he suddenly asks. Will looks at him, confused.

"What? You think I'd be teaching you biology if you were unlikeable to me?" Will says, scoffing. Mike studies his face; and then smiles at him, clearly relieved. He can tell Will is sincere.

"...Why do you ask that?" Will asks after a few more moments of silence. Mike is still just looking at him, but now he nervously averts his gaze.

"Yeah, well... just because," he says, trying to play it cool, but Will can see straight through him. He looks at him with a disbelieving look, until Mike caves in and sighs.

"Well, if you really wanna know- Dad and I fought, I guess... And he said some stuff," he sighs again.

Will's face softens, and closes his notebook. Mike sits up.

"It's nothing really- well, we never fight. He usually doesn't care that much, so he must've really been bothered by me this time, y'know... and if he was bothered by me, I could just imagine how the rest of you felt..." he trails off, and offers a quick strained smile when meeting Will's wet eyes, which makes his eyes tear up, too.

Will notices that and pulls Mike into a hug, not even needing to say anything, because just having Will near him makes Mike feel better. He no longer cares if he's annoying or not, as long as Will and his friends are there.

He's crying now, thinking about that- sobbing and everything. He hides his face in the side of Will's neck, his hair, which has gotten a lot longer since they've last hugged like this, tickling his nose. It smells good, like home. Thinking about how Will makes him feel more at home than his actual home, he grips at his shirt, pulling himself even closer to him.

Will's hands came from hugging Mike's waist to his neck, cupping his face and tangling fingers into his hair, tracing circles on his skin with his thumbs. Mike presses his forehead to Will's, almost on instinct, feeling completely fluid under his touch. He closes his eyes and slowly feels his body relaxing with every breath he feels Will take, almost as if he's under a spell. He doesn't think about his dad anymore, or about how that one girl looked at him weird in English class. No, his senses all belong to Will right now. And he loves it this way.

--

idk who first came up with the idea of byler paralleling The jncy hold but im sold please take my money💰💰

[toomuchracket]

what about birthday party! matty before you get together? maybe you bring another guy around and he says or does something that makes you upset and you tell him he ought to just go home and you’ll call him tomorrow and matty is immediately consoling you as you apologize for bringing the vibe down. he’s getting you another glass of wine and rubbing your shoulder the rest of the night until you fall asleep on him. he asks everyone to be quiet while he picks you up and tucks you into his bed. and when you wake up, you’re surrounded by his smell and his sheets and you’re a bit confused but really really comforted and it gets you spiraling a bit about how much better he treats you than that guy you’re with.

i think this happens not long after you and matty become friends in 2015; pre-paris trip, not long after you move to london. you've been seeing a guy quite casually, and it's more of a fwb situation than proper dating, but you like him and he seems to like you, so you bring him to matty's for casual drinks and a catch-up with your friends (matty's chill externally, but there's a weird, somewhat unprecedented feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he looks at the guy and you together). but you bringing him turns out to be a colossal mistake - the guy's just so visibly bored the whole time, making no effort to talk to any of your friends and shooting down both their and your attempts to include him in conversation. after about an hour and a half, he just stands up and says "right, let's go", and you're like "oh... really?", to which he's like "well i've met your friends now, like you wanted, so we can just go back to mine". mind you, this is in front of everyone; the rest of the conversations die out as everyone listens in in shock, and you go bright red but you stand your ground like "well, i'd actually quite like to stay out a little bit longer, so...", and the guy scoffs and says "why?", and you're like "because i'm having a nice time, that's why. actually, maybe you going is a good thing, because i'm sure i'd have a better time without having to compensate for you to everyone". and like, you're getting a little bit upset (angry tears welling up), but he still makes no effort to be nice, just goes "well, bye then. will you phone me tomorrow?", to which you're like "nope. goodbye" before he scoffs again and leaves.

as soon as the door slams, you - lip still quivering as though you're about to cry - turn to everyone like "i'm so sorry about that, i really am. i didn't think he'd be so rude" and they respond so nicely like "babe, it's alright, it's not your fault, he's just a dick who isn't good enough for you". but that kind of makes you worse, and the tears start to fall a little bit; matty pulls you up from the sofa and leads you to the kitchen like "come on, let's get you another drink, yeah?", and shushes you as you continue apologising to him for bringing that dick to his party. in the kitchen, he hugs you tightly (trying to ignore how perfectly you seem to fit against his chest) and says "sweetheart, please don't cry, it's honestly alright. he had shit hair anyway, it's no loss for you", which makes you laugh so hard you forget to be upset. and you kiss matty's cheek and say "thank you, you're a darling", so he kisses yours and says "you're too sweet to me. now - let me get you another wine" - you lean against the countertop as he does, striking up a conversation with him about your next respective projects and their influences, a conversation that continues when you return to the living room sofa together. by your next glass, you're curled up half-against matty, him tracing patterns comfortingly into your shoulder and smiling at the way your eyes begin to flutter closed; you're so content and comfortable next to him that you drift off to sleep as soon as you put down your glass.

matty initially shushes everyone so as to not wake you, but then has the bright idea to just carry you to the nearest bedroom and let you nap there while the party continues. it's a great idea, until he gently lays you on the bed and thinks "shit, this is my room. she's in my bed. and she looks so... right, sleeping there"; with a final caring glance at you, he runs back to the kitchen for a drink because jesus christ these feelings are confusing and he'd rather not get caught up in them right now. unbeknownst to matty, though, he's having the same feelings you have when you wake up forty-five minutes later refreshed as hell; it takes you a minute to place where you are, all warm and cosy and a little bit groggy from the sleep, but then you register the familiar aroma of washing powder and aftershave and cigarettes from the sheets surrounding you and think "shit, this is matty's room. i'm in matty's bed. and that was the best sleep i've had in months". and as if you'd cued him, matty appears in the doorway, smiling softly like "hi, sweetheart. you feeling alright? hope you don't mind me bringing you in here. figured you needed the rest, and i wanted you to be as comfy as possible" - you smile back like "what i said about you earlier is true, healy, you are a darling. thank you. you're too kind. and i need to know what mattress you've got because honestly it's so comfy like genuinely what the fuck". matty just giggles - your heart flutters - and says "come on, i'll tell you in the kitchen while i make you a cuppa. or get you another wine. whatever you want, sweetheart", and you're kinda overwhelmed at how sweet he is - your previous guy, the one who fucked off earlier, has never been so nice to you. in fact, you can't remember if any guy ever has. anyway, matty holds out his hand; you take it and follow him to the kitchen again, the two of you both biting back smiles and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomachs. and that's how it all starts for the two of you, the beginnings of the crush that develops into the relationship we all know and love <3

[comraderomeo]

Where Skin Ends Ch. 2

Updated Every Other Thursday (sorry I was late)

links: ao3 masterpost

cw: none of note

The sun finally breaks through your stupor and forces you awake. You lie groggily in bed, less regretful of your beverage choices than you expected to be. Your complimentary headache is only a mild annoyance, for which you have that Corporal to thank, not that you remember. In fact, your memory is hazy enough to leave you with no clear events, only a lingering sense of embarrassment. You check the clock and utter a "fuck" on realizing it's noon. After gathering your strength, you roll out of bed. Each layer of clothes from the day before is systematically stripped and thrown with force into the corner where a pile of undone laundry lies. At least you have a uniform for today. As you enter the bathroom, your reflection causes you to jump. It's always been an unexpected scare, but you look especially bad today, sorry to say. The cold water splashes off your back and coats your body like a sealant for restfulness. At the end of it, you feel half-normal again. Congratulations. As you dry off fully, there comes a series of bare-minimum upkeep procedures, just enough to make you not-appalling. Next, comes the uniform. It's too crinkled to pass inspection, but who gives a shit, right? They don't even have those in your company. Run your fingers through your hair that looks like it was cut with hedge trimmers, and you're done. Now, off to drills before you give Alex anything to be annoyed about.

You arrive at the simulator facility five minutes early, which you're happy with until you see the rest of your lance sitting around a map already discussing tactics. 

"Given we are defending through this sector, Hill 251 seems the most tenable for Alex and I."

"Ed, swear to God, please use words I can understand."

"It means 'defendable.'"

"Thanks, but I don't have time for a language lesson in the field."

"I will refrain, but I ask you stop calling me-"

Alex, being uninvested in the debate on words, was the first to notice you.

"Ah, Mat. Pleased to see you on time today."

"Anything for you, Lance Commander."

"Oh, that's a surprise. I figured you half an hour late at least."

You look for a rebuke to Ashe’s comment and find one. Pointing lazily to Edward, you fire back, "At least I'm not nursing a hangover in the planning room."

"You would've been out cold for a week, if it weren't for that Lyran lass."

Edward isn’t making a show of it, but you're right. He looks like his headache is about to devour him whole.

"And, who's to say it's not a migraine or some other thing?"

"Aye, could be. Could be."

"No, it is a hangover. I apologize. However, I will still be able to pilot."

You roll your eyes almost hard enough to crack your skull. It's petty but deserved. This whole ribbing thing is a waste of time anyway.

"So, can we move on to the actual thing we're being paid to do? Or, are we all just bullying me today?"

"It can be either. I couldn't give less of a shit."

"Ashe, chill please."

"Thank you, Lance Commander."

"Agreed, bickering about one's drinking habits will not decide the war nor pay well."

"Right you are, Ed. Anyway, let me fill you in on the sim we're working with."

Edward raised up as if to say something, but dropped it. Alex zoomed out on the digital map, revealing a series of arrows indicating expected troop movements. 

"We're operating on a constructed battleground, temperate climate, hilly, lightly forested. Simulation is starting on clear weather, but that might change. We, along with elements of the Lyran 57th Armored Regiment, will be defending a 'mech production facility. We will have no aerospace support nor ground reinforcements. But, the simulation will be providing long-distance artillery support on demand, so Ashe will be running double duty spotting for them and us."

The name of that armored regiment sits poorly with you, but the reason didn’t survive last night. Alex doesn't notice and points to a hill annotated on the map.

"As Edward stated, Hill 251 would be the best place for Scholar and Storm to be positioned. Meanwhile, Calm will be running spotting and skirmishes in support of the heavy tanks all throughout the foothills here. You, as always, are the hardest to place. I'm thinking myself that we should have you powered down in this more heavily forested area Southeast of where Ashe is doing her spotting. That way, you'll be able to pop in for an ambush once they engage the armored regiment. Thoughts?"

To you, it sounds less like an important assignment and more like getting sidelined. But, what are you going to do? You’ve still barely recovered from the probationary period you were on prior to Houses Steiner and Davion making their union into an all-consuming war. It's not worth risking your neck over an assignment.

"Fine, that works. It'll also give me the chance to get into melee with their support 'mechs."

"Good. I forgot to lead with the opposition, so let me clarify. We'll be up against two full lances of Capellan ‘mechs. I haven't been given a specific list of ‘mechs, but expect them on the medium to heavy side."

"Always hate it when they don’t tell us what to expect…"

"Oh, good. I was worried Ashe had secretly passed away after that much blissful silence."

"Fuck off."

"Gladly, if I weren't on contract."

"The two of you need to stop, or I will kick you out of here. The Lyran officers are going to be joining the briefing in a few minutes, so keep it to off-hours."

You and Ashe huff. Then, as if on cue, a series of finely-trimmed officers stroll into the briefing room. Their faces belie origins from all different regions of the Lyran Commonwealth, but the patches on their shoulders unify them. It takes a few more seconds than you like to admit, but you realize this is the Lyran 57th Armored. You scan through the officers, starting with the obvious Commander and rolling down the line judgmentally. That is until you reach a face far too familiar. You instinctively recoil before you can catch yourself. Hannelore smiles at you. It's hard to catch, but there's pity in her eyes too. The rest of your lance greets them half as formally as they greet you. All you can manage is a stoic nod. Alex launches into another explanation of his tactics. You mentally block this out, even though he does mention a few more details than he gave you. The tankers seem in agreeance, and start laying out their own plans in support of you, as being the center of attention is the privilege of a MechWarrior. You don't parse most of this either, which is clearly a great idea that definitely won't fuck you over down the line. The major strokes are that the artillery will be hiding behind the hills and the rest are holding the line alongside your lancemates. It's nothing groundbreaking all in all. At some point, Alex and the nameless Lyran Commander finally stop talking. It's probably been half an hour by estimates outside of your comprehension. A few more affirmations are shared between people, then the room breaks for the simulators. You take a little too long to react, lost in your lack of thought, and now you're alone with Hannelore. You look at her and mutter “oh shit…” quietly enough that it slurs beyond comprehension. She doesn't smile with the same warmness that you saw at first but with more of the pity you’d missed before.

“So, how’re you holding up?”

“Fine…”

You swallow your pride and almost gag,

“Thank you.”

“Well, I couldn't have just left you like that. It wouldn't be right.”

“Being a mercenary doesn't leave you much room to expect people to do right. I wouldn't have been mad.”

She nods, silently drawing a parallel between the two of you.

“Very true, but doesn't that make it all the better when someone proves you wrong?”

How could someone maintain this earnestness, despite knowing how cruel and violent the universe is? You can't say. It's unsettling in a way you can't describe.

“Maybe it is, but you still didn't have to.”

She deflates a little.

“Still better to have you in good condition for the drills, right?”

You nod obliquely, giving her that concession. 

“As thanks, I'll make an effort to not embarrass you again, but I make no promises I’ll be successful.”

She lets out an amused breath, even though you don’t mean that as a joke.

“Appreciated, but I'm sure you'll do fine. Even Lieutenant Ashe let slip that you're decent in a ‘mech.”

“I figured she'd rather drag herself than compliment me, but I guess all we can do is wait and see if I live up to the legend.”

“It's the weight you have to deal with when you go the ‘mech route. It's why I'm plenty happy in my humble tank crew.”

“I prefer the solitude, and it always felt to me like the inside of a tank would smell like a sauna adjacent to livestock.”

The Corporal laughs fully this time. You're glad she does but don’t show it.

“You know what? It does, but luckily you get used to it.”

“Maybe they should-”

“Mat. Corporal. You're needed in the sim bays.”

Alex stands in the doorway, looking not mad but disappointed. You don't care much that he is, but you really should get going.

[liarian]

Severed Bonds

Disclaimer:

So... I'm writing next chapter right now, disscussing with Serirei (That's what I do with them most of the time).

I'm not sure it will work with the rest of the story in his actual form and I need to do a complete overhaul of it but I thought of sharing his draft form. There's always strenght in raw writing that sometimes gets lost in editing.

So yeah... Don't read if you don't want spoilers of Severed Bonds next chapter. But if you're curious about it's actual shape before it gets axed. Here it is!!

Birthdays had never held much meaning for Katsuya when in their monotony the days blended into one another. His thirtieth birthday had been something that had passed him by without any fanfare. Thirty hadn't felt all that different from twenty when all he had done was trade one cage for another.

And yet, that had been the year his life had changed forever.

Katsuya yawned, sitting up on the futon and scratching at his eyelashes. For a moment, he shivered as he noticed the chill seeping through the walls. Temperatures had to have plummeted overnight. The early morning light illuminated the room and reflected off the straw-colored locks of the still sleeping figure beside him. It was testament to how much things had changed that he would no longer need absolute darkness to feel at ease within those four walls.

Taka stirred beside him, seeking the warmth of his body. Katsuya watched him, unmoving in those first hours after dawn. The stillness still felt unnatural in the confines of his completely naked body.

Katsuya stroked his cheek with tentative fingers.

Katsuya had always thought it unreasonable to be called lovemaking when it was just a frantic, irrational act but he had finally understood. Memories of the night before flashed in his mind and spoke to him of the vulnerability of putting oneself in the hands of another. The shame and nervousness of losing his virginity at thirty-two had meant nothing under the complicity of two people who had nothing to hide.

"Why are you already awake?" Taka asked still half asleep. "Another nightmare?"

The scar glowed on his arm, a testament to how strong his Soulmate was. Maybe someday Katsuya would manage to convince him of how much truth there was behind his words.

"I wouldn't call it a nightmare" Katsuya blushed as he remembered where Taka's mouth had been only a few hours before.

"What are you thinking about?" Taka frowned, sitting up in bed and letting the futon fall to barely cover his lap. "It's not like you've never seen me naked before."

"It's not the same, now I know what faces you put on when," Katsuya gestured at him, unable to look at him.

"Pervert. Mm." Taka's hand started up his thigh. "So it was okay, then? Wasn't it disappointing?"

"How could it be?" Katsuya hugged him tightly, completely silencing the insecure song humming in his head. "I don't think I'll be able to think about anything else all day."

"Oh, I guess that's okay then." Silence enveloped them. Taka seemed content to let himself get lost in his arms, enveloped by the smell of sweat and musk. "Better than I expected."

"Did you have your standards that low?" Katsuya jabbed his finger into his side. "What grade would you give me?"

"Idiot!" Taka laughed. "But I don't know, it's not like I had any expectations either. It's just sex but with you it's fine. Everyone talks like it has to be something extraordinary and they always manage to make me feel weird."

Taka rolled over until he was lying in Katsuya's lap. Sex and him had always had a complicated relationship. It wasn't the first time Katsuya wondered if the scar on his arm had anything to do with it.

"Do I seem weird to you?" Taka looked at him expectantly. His melody reflected the hope in his eyes.

"Have we ever been able to think of each other as normal?" Katsuya bent down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "But thank you for telling me."

"Oh," Taka blushed. "It's what you asked of me, isn't it? To talk things over. It's not like you make it too hard either. And now I feel like a jerk!"

[pbandjesse]

It is unreasonable rainy today. But I'm not really sure it was worth it for the schools to close. Or at least have a 2-hour delay caused all of the field trips to be canceled. I mean I enjoyed the day off but I'm not sure we actually needed it.

But I also don't know because I wasn't exactly awake this morning. I didn't wake up until after 9:00 and then it was just raining. It was gross. James said though so I'll hold my judgment.

I slept okay last night. My ear is really hurt. But I'm fine. I was looking forward to getting a lot done today but I woke up kind of in a bad mood. I felt very frustrated by messes throughout the apartment. And I started cleaning them up but I just got more and more upset. I made an omelet after I got dressed and I hit my head on the freezer door and just lost it. I was so mad.

So I ended up texting with James just telling them all the things I was angry about. And I didn't want to be a bitch to them but I also felt like they need to stop leaving uses around the apartment. And maybe our levels of what clean is is different but I hate when I feel like I go to bed after I reset the apartment and I wake up in the morning and it's all over the place again. It doesn't seem very fair. And they said they're going to do better. And I hope they do. Because it really upset me this morning feeling like I had to spend more than an hour of my surprise day off dealing with stuff that I had already done.

I did get some stuff done now that I had wanted to. Specifically changing the water in the fish and the frog tank. And I felt pretty good about the things I did. I wish I had done more cleaning honestly. But I just didn't have it in me after a bit. I didn't want to do a big clean. I wanted to pick everything up and then go work on my knitting and my quilting.

And so around 11:30 I got in bed with my temperature blanket and I got to work on that. I took three lines and watch some videos. And eventually moved to the studio to work on the quilt.

Working on the quote was the majority of the day. I finished all of the panels. And then took them to the living room to cut them all down so that they were more even. And then I spent like a good half an hour trying to figure out how to lay them out so that similar colors weren't on top of each other. But in the end a couple of them still did it anyway. But I was really happy with the size and whole vibe of the piece.

Sewing the rest of it together to another hour. And by the time it was 3:00 I was finishing up my last pieces. And I was so excited. It's going to need a back and binding still. If I want it to be an actual blanket. Or maybe I'll use this fabric that I've now created to make something else. I don't know. I just know that I feel very excited to have this one in the bag.

What's been the next hour and a half mostly just chilling. Watching videos and having a snack. Waiting for James to come home. It's funny that James was leaving the museum to bring the car back home so that I could come back to the museum. But it's fine. We do what we have to do.

And that's where I am now. I drove out here after me and James sat on the couch together for 20 minutes just holding hands while we scrolled on our own phones. And I showed James some of the stuff that I had thought about today. Specifically things about packing and toiletry bags and things like that. I did find out that James thought that me and Jess were going to Disney world this February. Which is insane. We are going next February. But I was glad that we could work on that kind of stuff in the few minutes we have together.

And now I'm running around the museum. There's some issues because Angie is sick and had to call out, and Kelly apparently is sick but she came in to cover. And everyone is kind of on edge. At least that's the vibe I'm getting. I'm in the print shop though and I'm having a nice night. It's a pretty small corporate party. Maybe I'll work on one of my calendars. Specifically fixing January and maybe doing one more day. We'll see.

Anything I write after this is going to be from later on in the night.

And later is now. It's almost 8:00 p.m. which ones I'll get to go home soon. And I got a really good night. Started really slow. I had so much time to work on my calendar that I only have like 3 months left. And I'm here tomorrow night so I'll probably finish them then. But I'm feeling really good. I had some really great conversations with people and one guy was a Chinese immigrant and he interrupted me when I was about to say that Gutenberg did not invent movable text, that the Chinese did. And so we had a great conversation about that because I was really excited to be correct. He couldn't answer my question if the reason he was inspired by them was theirs were wood and he made them out of metal. But he said he would look into it more. And so now I want to look into it more too. That's just what I've always been told but I haven't really done any research.

And everyone's been really sweet. It's really small group but they're really nice and there's like to come back. And because it's been so slow I've been able to spend more time talking to people about more things. Like little lithography stones. And it's just been really good. I am excited to go home now I'm pretty tired. Also hungry. And they did not feed me. I was hoping they would but it didn't happen. Whatever.

Tomorrow I have work all day and all night. But I have Saturday off so I'm not that worried about it. I really feel good right now which is nice. Just got to make sure I bring something to eat and drink. Then I'll have a good day.

Soon I'll go home to James and take a shower and get ready to go to sleep. I hope that it just cozy. And I hope that you are cozy too. Good night everyone. Be safe.

[keefwho]

April 04 - 2024 Thursday

11:24pm

6.5/10

This morning I showered immediately and got ready to go to the store. Mom drove me to the market in Seeley. I brought my Switch to play but put it down in favor of enjoying the scenery. Shopping went well, I guessed a total of $350 and the cost was $345. The cashiers seemed REALLY gay which was nice. On the drive home we saw a freshly hit deer which was very gross and we drove over it's legs. I didn't get as much freezer stuff because they don't have a great selection of frozen foods. I need mom or one of her coworkers to pick me up chicken from town. And maybe the extra big bags of french fries.

I had meant to stream after settling down after my groceries but I didn't. I did do my finances which I've had to do late due to a late payment from someone. I was also looking into my dental insurance situation and how to pay it, I have to do it before the 12th. I also chopped all my vegetables I just bought so I could freeze them and was hitting up anyone I could to chat while I did it. TK was down at first but she had to get ready to go somewhere instead. DV wasn't responsive. BR was getting ready for work. BD hadn't responded at first but she did in the end and agreed to chill in her server VC while I chopped. I appreciated that a lot, I desperately wanted company during the task. We made basic conversation and a couple of her friends joined. When I was done, I started cooking my chicken stew from the fresh ingredients and switched to my PC. She started screensharing the just chatting section on Twitch and we watched at least half an episode of every popular adult swim show being streamed on different channels. She left to make dinner and I was supposed to work next.

Instead of working I called DV because he's always down to talk about important stuff and I really needed someone to talk to about some things. This proved to be great, I got a lot off my chest and he gives good feedback. He's good about being honest instead of blindly supporting everything I'm saying and telling me what I want to hear. It feels great to be told I'm wrong about something because it means I have something to think about and maybe improve on. He told me about his problems too which I had my own feedback on. We talked for a couple hours before he had to go pick up his sister and I wanted to get into VR. BD said she was feeling meh so I asked if we could chill. I was hoping to get some more deep conversation out of it and that's what happened. In a driving world we started talking about how we feel about relationships and view them very similarly. Like how using the word "love" is a really REALLY big deal and its a red flag when someone uses it so lightly. She also told me about this guy that's been clingy around her. The weird part is that I know I've been like him in the past but maybe not to his degree. Seeing that (and not supporting it) gave me a little bit of perspective on the times I've also been clingy or overbearing. Sort of like I was forced to step back and look at the times I was like that. It's something I sort of hide from because it's uncomfortable to admit that sometimes I behave in a way I don't like for various reasons. It got REALLY awkward when the guy she was talking about joined the world and vaguely told her "we need to talk". My first thought was he had joined and spawned in the back seat where we didn't see him and he listened in. But maybe that didn't happen. He might have just seen that we were hanging out together after she told him she wanted space, making her a liar in his eyes. Apparently their talk went well and he was understanding about the situation so I'm happy for them.

I got off and joined AE and friends while they played No Mans Sky. I was asking them sort of random questions because I was in a good and social mood after processing things with DV. I think they liked me? As in, they seemed receptive to the kind of conversation I was bringing. I was there until DS was in bed.

DS and I talked about our days and she showed me this cool thing she did with all her con badges. Also the stuff she bought for her new rats she's getting this weekend. I greatly enjoyed chatting with her tonight, I was in a great mood. We did our puzzles and caught up on the old ones, she read me a Frankie chapter from the Monster High book, and I continued the KH2 playthrough. It was a good night.

~~~

Today's topic was presence so I tried to keep that in mind while I did things today. It was harder in the morning but in the evening I had some thoughts. Part of presence is the idea that you attend to things as they are in the current moment. It's sort of submitting to whatever the current task or state of things is. Thats something I struggle with because I'm usually thinking of whatever is most important to me in general. But I know to be most effective, different times should be spent on different things. In the evening I employed that by being more attentive to the different people I talked to today. They all had their place in my evening and were beneficial when given the proper focus.

Other than that I feel a bit bad that I ditched any kind of schedule today, I did 0 work.

[awkwarddystopianwarlord]

*Cough, Cough* I'm Sick

Living alone and getting sick is a stupid combination. I got sick on Christmas, which was a Monday, and it took me out for like five days. I had chills, dizziness, lightheadedness, was feverish and sneezed mucus-y sneezes every five minutes. It sucked. I couldn’t do anything because I was too wobbly to move much. I was like a drunk, three legged baby deer for days. It started off with sneezing in the morning which I wrote off as allergies since I often sneeze in the mornings. The sneezing kept going though and it was getting more and more snotty throughout the day which was kind of concerning but also I was at my friend’s house for crimmus and they have a giant fluffy dog. I’m not usually allergic to beasties but this dog is particularly fluffy so I decided that was valid. I really got worried however, when my throat started hurting towards the evening and that only ever happens when I get sick. It was quite sore and raw feeling. After I got home, I chugged some tea to soothe it and hoped I was overreacting. The next day, alas, I was slammed with all the symptoms in one go and woke up feeling horrendous. 

I did my best to stay hydrated and take my medicinal beverages, but I had to be the one to make them and it was incredibly difficult to do when I could barely move. My dishes piled up, my laundry that I hang dry was still hanging up, my place needed vacuuming and garbage taken out. I had an order to pick up at a shop and money to deposit at the bank. My mailbox was horribly neglected and my plants were thirsty. All I could do was loaf on my couch and somewhat eat from the massive amount of holiday leftovers my friend’s family gave me. Mind you, that was hella convenient and such a treat that I didn’t have to cook anything myself. 

You really get antsy though, not being able to move or be productive. It was such a relief to be able to somewhat function again. That is until the Monday that just happened. After one week of getting the last of my mucus out of my system and my wobbliness under control I…got…sick…AGAIN. ON MONDAY!

It started off the exact same way. In the morning I had one symptom. My throat was kind of clogged with mucus and I had to occasionally sound like a cat coughing up a hairball as I tried hawking it out. This wasn’t too frequent of a thing though so I wrote it off as me still recovering from my cold and this was the last remaining sick. But, come late afternoon, I couldn’t really move my neck because it was so stiff. The phlegm in my throat was getting more problematic and my legs for some reason were incredibly achy. By evening, I couldn’t move my neck at all, my entire body hurt, and my throat was infuriated. So the last four days, I’ve been at war against phlegm goblins that live in, what feels like the middle of, my throat. They’ve become more sentient as time has gone by. I can’t choke one up unless it wants me to. I’ll feel what I can only describe as a goblin dislodging from its throat latch. Only after that can I try to cough it up, except it’s still difficult as shit because it doesn’t really move with a cough. I have to also essentially retch and do a weird throaty cough to get this fucking guy out. And since the phlegm goblin is so thick, it blocks my airway and I can’t breathe while doing this which is stressful as fuck. I didn’t get the sneezing fits this time but my gawds this has been almost unbearable. I could hardly swallow, so I could hardly consume fluids or foods. Trying to sleep was a nightmare since I couldn’t move my neck without severe pain. I even had a mug by my bed to spit in through the night whenever my throat would get so clogged up that I couldn’t breathe well. 

Yesterday was the first day I was able to move my neck and it was glorious to crack that thing every half hour or so. Today was the first day where I didn’t feel immediately dizzy after standing, but that only lasted a short while. I finally folded my laundry from Sunday and did my dishes for the first time since Saturday. I even took out my recycling and felt the outside air for the first time this week. What is so frustrating though is that all of this took so long to do. I had no one else to help out with my dishes or laundry. I lucked out again with food and had enough leftovers from Saturday to sustain me but what if I didn’t? I did not have any strength to move beyond my wee bachelor suite. It took me hours to get out of bed some days or I would sleep in so long that it would be dark by the time I woke up. Wandering around downtown in an unstable haze whilst sick because I had nothing but my friend’s alcohol in my kitchen is a shit idea. Having to make the teas and NeoCitran and jello powder in boiling water and hot milk with honey by myself is wretched when I’m stuck to my bed with my own sweat. I would only get up to stumble to the bathroom until my snarling stomach forced me to get up and get food. I so desperately wanted to wave my hand and gently demand someone else to get my needs. Unfortunately, I was the only one here, and therefore the only one to help. 

It’s been an irritating time for sure. I’ve lost an entire paycheque’s worth of income for missing two weeks of work. And I’m paranoid about Mondays now. I’m so confused about this cursed fiasco because I’ve never gotten sick like this twice in a row. None of my friends got sick, save for one who shared a beverage with me on crimmus, but this clearly wasn’t airborne with them. Yet I caught it somehow and I only work Wednesday to Friday and I hardly go anywhere the other four days. So did I catch something on Friday and it just took a couple days to seize control of my immune system and then strike on Monday both times? I can justify getting sick the first time more since the mall was absolutely insane leading up to the holidays, but the second time it was incredibly quiet. I don’t know, this was just a shitty time and my rent increases next month so that’ll be cool to pay with the money I didn’t make.

[dzpenumbra]

7/24/23

I... didn't sleep well. I was actually really upset about this. I had been on a roll... and guess what... fucking stompstompstomp creakcreakcreakcreakcreakcreak right above my head again. And I tried to just roll over and go back to sleep but I swear to god, like some kind of sick torture method every time I'd start to fall asleep just creakcreakcreak and I'd half jump out of my skin all over again.

I'm so frustrated that it still makes me jump like that, and shoots adrenaline through my system. Like... when I hear that creak, I'm fucking awake. I wince like someone just swung a stick at me or something. Is this like... a branch snapping in a tree above me kind of reflex or something? Or maybe it really is as simple as someone clearly not being mindful of how much noise they are making in very close proximity to me.

And honestly, there's not a lot of recourse for me. I'm the one on a weird schedule. I'm the one going to bed between 5-7AM and sleeping until... whenever I possibly can. And they're just going about their life at like 10:30 on a Sunday. The world decided a long time ago that day schedules get priority. So I spend nearly all of my waking hours being quiet as a mouse... tiptoeing around my apartment and whispering so I don't disturb MY downstairs neighbor... and these motherfuckers literally never have to be mindful of their neighbors at all.

My resignation is pretty indicative of how little I want to directly confront this issue in any capacity. I'd rather whittle a dozen wooden shims and ram them in that molding gap rather than have to actually face these people and ask them to be accommodating towards my weird lifestyle. And going directly to the landlord feels... both cowardly and inappropriate, like it isn't their job.

I put a post on a subreddit a few weeks back about this, during the insomniathon... talking about how I deeply struggle with confrontation and I really want to find the most peaceful/pacifist approach to resolving this issue... and someone replied recommending I go buy them a rug. XD And tell them that the floor is really creaky in that specific area over my bedroom and if they don't mind trying to use the gift rug to muffle the sound a bit. I thought it was a genius idea. I just... don't know what unit number is above me. And rugs really... aren't cheap, from my understanding. And it still feels really forward to just... dump a rug on their doorstep and basically say "your problem now." I don't know.

I was really hoping to get back to sleep quickly. But rolling over didn't work. Music didn't work. Livestream VoD didn't work. I was just too awake. So I got up and did a run in Hades, chilled for a while, then went back to sleep... for an hour. I was up for several hours just... trying to get myself reset and ready for sleep... and I had to be up at a specific time to pick up my grocery delivery.

I woke up to a softly ringing alarm 15 minutes after my groceries were delivered, they were delivered early again. Nothing was stolen, all my stuff was there, and I don't think anything went bad. The only real perishables were eggs and yogurt and I had both today and they seemed fine. I just... I jumped out of bed and immediately threw clothes on and fucking booked it up to the lobby. Someone got in the elevator with me for the first time, I just kinda... I had headphones in so I just kinda kept to myself.

I tried out the new granola, it was pretty good. I keep getting this kinda chemical taste that hits me after yogurt and granola sometimes... I think it's coming from the yogurt. Besides that, it was good. I think I just went a bit heavy on the yogurt.

I went skating today. I committed to it and decided to go. I was still a bit spooked after last time... but I went for it. I went up to the park the same direction I went last time, right up that main road where the guy flagged me down. It went fine. It's a bit spooky riding with cars right next to you, but the bike lane is wide enough so yeah, I'm getting used to it.

I had the park to myself tonight. I got there around 7:45, skated until around 8:15. It was all I really needed, I was sweating really heavy immediately. I set out to really challenge myself, try to learn something new. I thought I was going to be really fine-tuning BS noseslides, but ended up trying to learn... I guess it's a FS half cab? I was fucking around with just... getting really used to my ollies. The fakie ollies, then adding in some nollie and FS 180 practice. But once I was on the fakie ollie, I remembered the last time that I tried half cab... I guess the BS way, where you rotate on your toe edge. And I remember being able to do it on snowskate (at least I think). But man, I really struggle with body rotation in that direction. Even FS boardslides have been a struggle for a long time. Rotating toe edge always feels like a blind leap of faith. Not a bad reason to practice them... but I'm not there yet. My weight is not in the right place, I can feel it. I lean way too far forward and the board just goes shooting out. So I improvised and decided to try rotating the other way... basically continuing the FS rotation from the 180 I was doing into it. And I tried it and I actually got really close on my first attempt, so I went after it.

So basically, I'm regular... so I'm ollieing and rotating heel-edge to my left... and I land riding switch. From here... at first... I would line up my feet in "nollie" position and then kinda... do this huge rotation in like a whipping motion and just pray the board came with me. It clearly didn't work.... XD So I ended up getting this idea... "why the hell am I so compelled to look where I'm going? I'm doing the same 180 I just did... but just... backwards... So... do it riding backwards." So I started to get this big feeling difference between riding switch and riding fakie... at least for this trick. I just lined up like I was getting ready for a FS 180... only I was rolling backwards... And since I have the motion of that trick down really naturally, it actually came together pretty quickly. It's really disorienting... popping the trick while moving backwards and turning blind into the direction I was moving? I don't know, it was really disorienting. But somehow... I got it much easier than figuring out this weight distribution problem on my BS rotations. I saved that for another day.

I also figured out that I've learned some not-so-great habits from snowskating as far as pop goes. It's not bad for snowskate at all... see... snowskates... Okay, if you don't know what one is, it's basically a skateboard deck but without holes, trucks, wheels, any of that. Just a board with like a PVC bottom on it with grooves in it so that you can steer and lock in grinds. Instead of "sandpaper" griptape, they have a sorta foam/rubber grip thats more suited to snow. So basically, when you pop on a skateboard... you have the entire pop of the tail and the elevation from the base of the board to the ground (the height of the trucks/wheels) to use as leverage for your pop. But on a snowskate... the deck is flat on the ground, so you need to milk every millimeter of pop you can out of that tail. So... on a snowskate, your back foot is basically perched on the very edge of the tail... like half of your toes aren't even on the board sometimes. It takes a lot of getting used to. I realized that my stance... was a snowskate stance. And my back foot was way further back than it needed to be. In fact, just moving it forward a little bit ended up giving me a ton of control on my ollies. They felt much more comfortable. I just need to sorta.. get used to riding one way on skateboard and another way on snowskate. A seasonal adjustment. But that was a really neat unlock, because once I noticed that and saw the edge of my foot hanging off the tail, I just scooched it forward and felt the difference immediately.

I'm still not really sure where exactly to put my body weight with BS noseslide, but I'm saving it for another day. I should really just watch skate videos in slow motion and pay special attention to where they carry their weight in that trick.

So yeah, I had a good skate session and went home. I took an alternate route back, scoping out the difference in riding through the neighborhood rather than the main drag that I had been riding. I might take the neighborhood route to the park next time. Idk. The roads are in worse condition and they are narrower, so in other ways it feels a bit less safe. But it's a straight shot to the park and it doesn't go through that area where I was like... seeing needles on the ground and shit. Idk I guess I'll try it next time. It goes right past the police station, so at least it feels safer.

So yeah, today started pretty crap and I've been tired all day... but I got to skate and that was nice. I still got myself to go out. I'm applauding myself for that.

I did some more work outlining on the grip tape. Oh yeah, the paint did already start to peel on some areas where I was dragging my feet. To be expected, honestly. It's just weird to be skating a grip piece that isn't done yet. So my plan is to keep going with what I'm doing... skate when i want to, paint it when it calls me. And try to get a picture of it before I skate off all the art. But embrace the fact that it is a temporary piece that is on limited time, and that's the point. Just like the graphics on the bottom of the deck.

I also spent several hours polishing the blue beads again. I have no idea if the polish will keep this time, this is like the 4th time I've done this... They keep getting these opaque streaks on them, I don't know. I just sanded them a bit and buffed them after. I'm a bit discouraged with it, they keep looking really cool all shiny and polished... and then a few days later they're just dull and splotchy. I see why the call for acrylic sealer is so alluring. I'm going to do my best to stay natural here. But yeah, I get it. What, like... 3-5 coats of a spray that dries in a few minutes and... I'm done? And this piece has been like... weeks of trial and error and I don't even know if it's gonna work? It's definitely tempting.

But I was mentally prepared for this. This was going to be a test batch, I'm aware of it. So I'm just gonna keep working at it until I figure out a formula. That's half the fun.

I was watching Adam Savage from Mythbusters' channel on YouTube a bunch today, and I saw something in his behaviors that I really wanted to share with every person I've ever met. He made a grievous mistake. I had some out-of-the-box idea for a metal mount that held this glass sculpture and he was showing off the idea... and dropped the glass. And his reaction was incredibly clear "I majorly fucked up." And he was ON FILM. And he grabbed it, and took a very quick beat, then immediately started staring off in another direction, then walked over to his desk and then started talking to himself about how to potentially rework the problem. It was insane how fluid it was. He felt the panic, he felt the "oh shit, this is bad." Then he let it go. And he moved on to "what does this mean?" "What do I do now?" Like his clumsy mistake that almost ruined not just his work, but someone else's art... was just another step in the troubleshooting process. Because it was.

I'm gonna level, his stress management abilities aren't flawless, of course... he is human... But most people I've met in my life would need a few moments to just process the gravity of that moment. And he took it in stride, clearly emotionally processed it, in front of a very large audience too... and then organically wove that information into the next step of solving his engineering puzzle. It was commendable. It was really cool and inspiring to watch.

Alright, off to bed I go.