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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years ago

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Wonderful World - Part 11 ^**

Hello friends, this is a big and transitional chapter! There's a lot going on and I think it's the one that gonna start winding down this story. It's kinda long, so buckle up! I hope you guys like it!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: many angsty themes, heated arguing, mentions of OCD, psychotic symptoms, suicide, mental health crisis, HJ

WC: 14.5K

It was the day of the board meeting and Celeste had been quiet and contemplative all day. Megan had tried to talk to her, presumably to say thank you or to just communicate something she wanted, but she was avoiding her like the plague. She had no idea what she was going to say in her testimonial that evening. She had even asked her mom if she could skip school but she said no, which really pissed her off, but whatever. The day was inching by as she hid out during lunch to try and write down her thoughts like Dr. Styles had suggested a few times, but all she ended up doing was doodling little flowers, butterflies, and a few variations for her potential signature all over the page. This was hopeless.

She was also really in her head about the awful things she’d heard her grandmother say about her and her mom. She felt sadness more than anger, how could someone be that awful to their own family. She knew that her mom wasn’t close to her parents but her mom had never really talked about why. She had never seen or heard an argument between them and as much as she wished her mom had her own mom to support her, she was happy that she’d rather not associate than to make excuses for her awful behavior and mindset. She had been a bit distant from her uncle the last few days because she just didn’t know how to feel about him bringing her to therapy. She understood that he had been worried and he had been so apologetic, but that was her safe space. And well, Dr. Styles told her that it was OK to be upset at him, to feel betrayed by him, so she sat with the feelings for the last couple of days and it made her wonder if he’d still show up to the meeting. She’d understand if he felt like he should no longer be there, but as long as her mom and Dr. Styles were there she’d be fine. She put her things away and got ready to go to class and as she was sneaking out of the practice room she’d been in she saw Megan waiting outside across the hall.

“Hi.” She said nervously and Celeste nodded at her. “I ummm, I just wanted to thank you f-for defending me.” She said and immediately she started to cry and Celeste pouted, “I know I don’t deserve it because to you I am the meanest person in the world.” She sniffled, “but Miss Jones encouraged me to…come out to my friends and then-”

“That’s how they reacted?” Celeste asked softly with a frown and Megan nodded with tears in her eyes.

“I mean, I get it…my parents aren’t happy about it either…” she sniffled, “But it’s Karma I guess.” She said and Celeste shook her head.

“No it’s not, they’re just…assholes.” She said softly and Megan glanced up to her eyes and then Celeste’s eyes went wide, “I’m so sorry for calling your parents and friends assholes.” She whispered nervously and then Megan started to giggle.

“No it’s OK! I’ve been thinking the same thing but I just felt bad actually saying it.” She confessed and Celeste’s nerves faded into a small smile.

“Hey ummm, if you don’t get expelled,” she said and Megan chuckled and so did Celeste for a few seconds, “Ummm, do you want to come to the spring dance with me, Geri, and Ozzy?” She asked and Megan’s smile faded into a look of surprise.

“Are you serious?” She whispered. She had been really bummed about this because well, her “friends” had told all of their group about her and her date had flaked on her.

“Yeah, I…think so. I mean, I’ll have to ask Geri considering…you know.” She faded off into silence and Megan nodded.

“Yeah, I get it. But if she says yes and I still go to school here on Friday then I’d be happy to go.” She said with a soft smile that Celeste mirrored.

“I’m not mad at you anymore.” Celeste said and Megan exhaled.

“Because you feel bad for me.” She said with a sad smile and Celeste shrugged.

“So? It’s progress!” She said optimistically and Megan smiled.

“Yeah…progress.” She hummed.

***********

Diana had set up a video lecture for her class that afternoon and she had thought about texting Harry to see what his plans were but she decided against it. Yes, they were on great terms, but they weren’t in a place for her to be checking up on him like that. Celeste had been really quiet all afternoon, just up in her room. She had asked if she wanted to talk but she declined so she gave her some space.

It was around 6:15pm when Damian showed up at the house to pick her and Celeste up for the meeting. He had taken their mom’s hotel room to give Diana and Celeste some space after that nuclear fight with their mom on Monday and they hadn’t really spoken, so things were still a little bit tense.

“Hey.” She said as she let him inside and he offered her a slight smile as he followed her into the kitchen, “Do you want a drink or something?” She asked as she went back to clearing out the dishwasher.

“No, I’m alright, but can I talk to you about something?” He asked and she nodded and gave him her full attention. “I’m sorry about mom.” He said again and she nodded.

“I know you are, Damian but what I continue to find hard to understand is how you can continue to make excuses for her when she treats us that way! Like I know she’s our mom, and I don’t wish her harm or anything like that but she’s so in the wrong! About tons of things, especially suggesting all those racist things about Celeste, her own granddaughter!” Diana said with frustration but kept her voice down, she didn’t want to stress Celeste even more with another argument.

“I know and I’ve been silent about it for too long but not anymore. I gave her a piece of my mind about her views and her beliefs and I told her that I didn’t want her in my life if she was going to continue treating you both that way. I told her it was wrong and that she needed to reevaluate herself…obviously she…acted unfazed about what I said but I just don’t want to be a coward anymore.” He said to her genuinely, “I’m sorry for never speaking up before and for not defending you. I just…as soon as Harry stepped in I knew that I needed to do better.” He admitted and Diana’s eyes were welling up.

“I know that it’s hard to do that, so thank you. You’ve always been there for me, you’ve always looked out for me, and taken care of me. I’m so grateful for you and I’m sorry that my relationship with mom has…basically extinguished yours, like you shouldn’t have to choose-”

“Of course I had to choose. It should have never even been a question after everything that’s happened between you two.” He said and she rolled her lips together, “I promise to do better where it counts, Di.” He said and she rounded the island and hugged him tight and he hugged back, “Te quiero mucho, guerita.” He said softly and she smiled. He hadn’t called her that nickname in many, many years.

“Yo también, feo.” She hummed back with a grin and he scoffed.

“Really? When I’m being all sweet and sentimental?” He asked as she giggled, “Quítate!” He scoffed playfully as he pried her arms off of him as she laughed, “I’m gonna go apologize to someone who will actually appreciate it.” He said as he headed out of the kitchen.

“If you’re referring to Celeste I think she’ll be far harder to crack!” She warned and he peered back into the kitchen with narrowed eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” He challenged before he headed to the stairs.

“Well don’t be too long we need to go soon!” She called and sighed when she got no response. But as she stood there by herself, kind of feeling bad for their parents, she was happy that her brother had stuck up for her like that. It truly meant the world.

*********

After her uncle had come up and apologized to her for everything that had happened on Monday, Celeste was feeling a lot better. She was happy that despite her being a bit distant he had shown up to make sure that she was alright and to just be there for her during this really nerve-racking thing she was about to do. When they arrived at the school she looked for Dr. Styles but she didn’t see him anywhere yet so when they took their seats Diana ensured to save him a spot. As the minutes to start diminished and the meeting hall got a bit more full she started to glance around again.

“He’ll be here, don’t worry.” Her mom said to her quietly and she exhaled and nodded.

“Yeah, there’s probably traffic. And if he comes a little late he might just sit in the back.” Her uncle chimed in and well, that made sense. They were the 3rd and final item on the agenda, so it would be OK, if he was a little bit late. She stopped being so concerned about him and more about her nerves about reliving the awful things that happened to her and speaking about them in front of all of these people she didn’t know.

She was clutching her mom’s hand as they finally started to talk about her situation. They said that due to the nature of some of the evidence in this item they would not be showing the evidence, but that all board members had been briefed previously, she was grateful for that and surely Megan was too. Then, Principal Whittaker went up and spoke about the rules that Megan had broken that led to her recommending expulsion. She talked about her and about Megan as students as well. Then the school counselor, Miss. Jones talked about how she’d been working with Megan, and then Megan also went up and made a statement where she apologized again for what she had done but she never mentioned that she had been bullied too. She was crying the whole time and it made her even more nervous for her turn to go up there.

“Thank you miss Freeman, we are glad to hear that you are addressing the issues that led to your behaviors and that you have been following the recommendations and carried out all disciplinary measures consistently.” She said and Megan nodded from her seat and then glanced at Celeste who was already looking at her, “The last part of this item will be a testimonial from Miss Celeste Beltran, if you’d be so kind to come up to the podium.” The director said and she stood and glanced to her mom before swallowing thickly and walking up to the podium. It was positioned in a way in which she could see the board members but also those in the audience. The woman started to speak but she was distracted as she scanned around the audience to find Dr. Styles she couldn’t see him anywhere and her mouth started to go dry and her heart to sink in so much disappointment. “Miss Beltran?” The woman spoke to her once again and she blinked a few times to get rid of the tears welling up in her eyes because he wasn’t here. He promised.

**********

“Miss Beltran, we’ve heard from Miss Freeman about the steps she has taken to reconcile this situation with you. Would you say that she has sincerely done her best to make amends for victimizing you over the past several months?” She asked her and Celeste didn’t answer.

Diana frowned as she saw Celeste glancing around the room with a frown on her face and that was enough to confirm to her that Harry had not shown up. She had texted him a few times throughout the meeting but she hadn’t received any responses from him. She sent one more, asking where he was. She started to worry that something bad had happened to him because he wouldn’t have not shown up without a warning or notice. He wanted to be here for Celeste.

“Miss Beltran?” The director called to Celeste and Diana frowned as she saw that she wanted to cry. So she cleared her throat and it caused Celeste to look at her and at Damian. She gave her a slight nod and with that she exhaled shakily before she parted her lips to speak.

“Ummm what was the question?” She asked again softly.

“Would you say that Miss Freeman has sincerely done her best to make amends for victimizing you over the past several months?”

“Oh, ummm yes.” She said.

“Do you feel like your school has adequately administered consequences to help rectify the situation between you and Miss Freeman?”

“Yes.” She responded.

“Are there any other things you’d like the school board to consider before we decide on a verdict for Miss Freeman’s expulsion?”

“Ummm…Megan’s been going through a lot.” She started off and then glanced to her, “Like Miss Jones advised, she wrote me a private letter explaining herself and at first I was…even more upset. But she’s dealing with something quite big that has…led for her to also be bullied at school.” She explained solemnly, “I didn’t expect to step in an defend her, but I did. Not out of pity, but because we all deserve to feel safe. And at first I was scared of her and of running into her but I’m not anymore. Now that I understand her better I’ve…” she paused and bit her lip as she decided to just say what she’d been mulling over all day, “I’ve forgiven her.” She said and Megan started to cry even harder and Celeste sniffled as well.

Diana’s eyes welled up with tears and she squeezed Damian’s hand at Celeste’s confession. “If she’s allowed to stay I know we won’t be having any more issues like this and…I mean, it’d kind of suck if you expelled her because she’s supposed to go to the dance with my friends and I on Friday.” She said and the audience broke out in a small chuckle. Diana sniffled through her laughter and shook her head as she glanced to Celeste who had glanced to her briefly. “I do think she deserves another chance.” She finished and the director thanked her before she stepped down and headed back to her seat. As soon as she was sitting Diana hugged her into her side and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m really proud of you, mamita.” She whispered and Celeste just leaned further into her hold. After that they said that they would take 15 minutes to deliberate in private and called a recess to the meeting. Diana excused herself to go to the bathroom, she took a little detour outside on the way over. She needed to call Harry, she had this awful sinking feeling in her stomach that something was wrong and that just made her think about Wesley and she was starting to spiral. Her vision was blurring with tears as she pulled out her phone to dial Harry. When she felt a hand on her shoulder she whipped around quickly as the unexpected touch gave her a fright and she was riddled with disappointment and even more concern when she saw Megan’s mom behind her.

“I’m so sorry I scared you.” Mrs. Freeman said and Diana chuckled away the scare.

“Oh, it’s alright.” She assured with a hand on her chest.

“I just wanted to…say thank you for being such a good parent.” She said softly and Diana shook her head as she looked at her feet for a moment.

“I can’t take credit for anything Celeste said up there, that was all her and her therapist’s hard work.” She assured.

“Sure. But she had to learn to have a great character from somewhere and well, even if you might think you’ve got nothing to do with it you’ve actually got everything to do with it. Even if Megan gets expelled I ummm, I think she’ll be alright with that declaration.” She said and Diana smiled.

“She’s a good kid, Megan. And I mean…I don’t want to speak out of turn but…she deserves to be happy, no matter what that looks like for her.” She said softly and Mrs. Freeman nodded.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about that too…my husband, he’s an elder at Crossroads Baptist church.” She said quietly, “I sometimes get really extreme with what I think because I feel like I have to. And I’m not going to lie, I’ve judged many people for the way they choose to live their lives and it’s unfortunate that it took my daughter being in that position for me to understand just how wrong and…un-christ like that is.” She said and Diana hummed in understanding as she listened. She wouldn’t necessarily agree that people chose their sexuality for themselves, but if this woman was coming around to any reason that was progress on its own. “I’m doing better though. I’m…praying a lot and branching out a lot more because I don’t want to lose my daughter. I even found a church close by that’s not as rigid as the one we’ve been going to all this time.”

“That’s wonderful, I’m glad you’ve found that. And well, I mean, I know that it’s hard to reconcile certain things at times but there is always a way. And you know, sticking to your beliefs is also important and it’s good to be able to find a space in which you can question and learn and grow without judgement. Hopefully Megan feels accepted there too, but the biggest thing is for her to feel accepted by you.”

“Yeah.” She agreed quietly with a smile, “Well, I just wanted to say that to you before I missed my chance and ummm whatever happens, I’m sure it’ll be for the best.” She said and Diana nodded.

“Agreed.” She hummed. Mrs. Freeman was just about to excuse herself when Damian came outside.

“They’re about to start up again!” He said.

“That was quick.” Diana said as she and Mrs. Freeman agreed as they both hurried over to the door and went their separate ways as they headed to their seats.

“Is he here?” Celeste asked her softly and Diana frowned as she shook her head.

“No, I didn’t see him, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” She whispered as she tried to remain calm and Celeste just huffed.

“He’s a liar.” She said with disdain and Diana frowned.

“Mamita, he really wanted to be here, you know that. I’m sure there’s a really good explanation for why he’s not here. I mean…god forbid something happened to him or-”

“After some deliberation and consideration of the testimony given by our four witnesses these are the votes of the members of the school board.” The director’s voice overtook hers so she just quieted down, “In favor of expulsion - 4 votes. Not in favor - 6 votes.” She said and Diana glanced over to Mrs. Freeman who was smiling at her already and hugging Megan close, “Because the majority has voted against, Megan Freeman will remain a student at Los Angeles Center for Enriched Studies, she will be on a probationary period during the fall Semester of the new school year. We expect her to continue working with Miss Jones regularly and we will work with the principal, student, and her family to finalize the details of this probationary period. We have gone through all of our agenda items for today’s meeting so that concludes this session. Our next meeting is scheduled for July 5th. We will only be considering and addressing agenda items pertinent to the new school year. Have a good night everyone.” The woman finished and everyone started getting up to leave.

When Megan came up to hug Celeste afterwards she knew that despite the smile on her face she was extremely angry because Harry didn’t show up. She knew that there was a good reason for it, he wouldn’t let Celeste down like that, but the fact that he wasn’t answering her texts was worrying her more than she cared to admit. She felt sick to her stomach and passed on a late night snack when they stopped at a fast-food restaurant on the way home. She hoped he was OK and she did the most she could to talk herself down from thinking of the worst case scenario, but based on her experience it was always the worst case scenario.

**********

Harry had welcomed in his last scheduled patient of the day at 4:30pm like he usually did on Wednesdays. But since he had no class tonight he had taken his time with doing all of his report notes so that he could kill some time before the school board meeting at 7, but all that changed when one of his patients just dropped by at 6pm in a full blown crisis. This man had unfortunately been dealing with OCD for a large part of his life and he had just lost his job because his compulsions had gotten in the way of his productivity; he was a checker. And he also shared that his wife was threatening to divorce him and now this man wanted to kill himself.

Obviously, this was an emergency and he needed to help deescalate this man from his breaking point and suicidal ideations and intents immediately. The more digging Harry did, he discovered that the patient had not taken any of his meds that month because he had accidentally dropped them all on the ground when he was organizing them into his med container and so he had tossed them all; his germophobia had gotten the best of him. But this was a big issue because this should’ve been his second month on a combination of an SSRI and antipsychotic medication because one of the big overarching symptoms he had was paranoia. Harry needed to diminish those psychotic symptoms first in order to get them to a level where he could see if clinical intervention could help so that he could ween him off of the antipsychotics - he tried to steer away from prescribing antipsychotics for OCD as much as possible, but some people just needed them whether it be for a few months or for the rest of their lives, but long terms users of antipsychotics were often riddled with really unfortunately side effects later down the line and of course, he didn’t want that for any of his patients.

All of this just completely distracted him and so by the time he had finished talking with his patient, assessing suicidality, and making a safety plan for him it was a little bit after 8:30 and he immediately felt sick to his stomach; he had missed the board meeting. He rushed back into his office and checked his phone to see that Diana had texted him a few times.

“Shit!” He cursed as he opened up his phone to check her messages.

Diana Beltran:

6:50pm: Hey, I saved you a seat. We’re in the third row on the left side.

7:13pm: Are you sitting somewhere else?

7:43pm: I just need to know that you’re OK. Please let me know that you’re OK.

“Fuck.” He sighed in disappointment as he immediately dialed her number and it rang and rang until it reached her voicemail. He didn’t know if she was angry at him so he didn’t want to just show up at her place unannounced; he’d be livid if she’d left him hanging without so much as a warning. He tried her again a few more times before he just grabbed Misty and put her in her little travel kennel so that they could head home. She’d call him back when she was ready.

*********

“No goodnight?!” Damian called after Celeste as soon as she started heading up the stairs when they got home. She huffed and came back and hugged him half-heartedly.

“Thanks for being there for me. Love you, goodnight.” She said and then rushed up the stairs and Diana sighed as she slipped off her shoes by the door. She’d try Harry after Damian left, she hadn’t heard her phone go off.

“She’s just really bummed about Harry not showing up.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that. Did he say anything to you?” He asked as he followed Diana into the kitchen and she nibbled on her lip nervously as she shook her head and flicked on the lights.

“I texted him a bunch of times and he never answered.” She said as she set her purse down on the island. She swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced over to Damian, “What if something happened to him?” She asked in a small and nervous voice and his features softened as he came over to her and pulled her into his arms.

“No, no, no. I’m sure he’s fine.” Damian said as she started to cry softly and he shushed her and held her close.

Damian knew that this uncertainty was probably bringing back a lot of really awful memories for her. One of his biggest life regrets was leaving for school early that summer. Wesley’s passing had been traumatic for Diana all on it’s own, but the aftermath was even worse. Their parents forced her to go to Columbia just weeks later and she was in an awful place mentally. She was also all alone in New York, he tried to visit as often as he could, but he was also in school almost 7 hours away. And when she found out she was pregnant it made things worse for a time because of the stress of having to tell their parents; it was a secret between them until they went home for Christmas break, then all hell broke loose. For a long time he was the only person that she had in her corner. Their dad wasn’t angry at her like their mom, but he just stayed out of it, which was almost worse in a way.

“He better fucking be.” She sniffled and Damian pondered whether he should even ask his next question but he did it anyway.

“Di, do you…have feelings for Harry?” Damian asked gently and she just sighed.

“I’m trying not to.” She sniffled as she pulled back from their hug and he let her go to be able to look at her better.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked with a confused chortle.

“It means that…I can’t, like I just can’t.” She said softly, “Celeste would never forgive me. She’s already gonna be angry at Harry for who knows how long for not showing up tonight. It’s just…weird you know? Me dating her therapist.”

“Does he feel the same?”

“Yeah.” She confirmed and Damian frowned.

“Oh…”

“Yeah.” She sighed in defeat, “We’ve…snuck a few kisses,” she confessed and Damian smiled, “But ummm…I’m scared.” She admitted, “I’m scared that it’s all going to get taken away too soon because he’s like…really fucking great and we get along so well! And I don’t want to bring him into my life like that or Celeste’s and lose him. I don’t want her to know what that feels like. I know that the odds are like…insane for the same thing to happen but they still exist. And I keep using Celeste being his client as an excuse for why we can’t try, but it’s me who just…can’t.” She confessed, “I’m the biggest obstacle.”

“Well let me tell you something, since the moment you found out that you were pregnant, despite the surprise and fear and everything else, you’ve lived your life to make Celeste happy. Everything you’ve done has been to benefit her. And that’s so admirable of you, but you’ve forgotten yourself along the way. I know that you’re happy with your life, but you need more and she needs more too, and I also think you want more and I know that’s hard for someone like you to accept, but it’s OK to want more.” Damian said to her earnestly, “I really like Dr. Styles-er, Harry, whatever…” he said as she giggled softly, “I like how he didn’t even hesitate to stand up for you and Celeste against mom, he’s a protector.” He said with a smile, “Maybe before I go we can all do something together again. I mean we as in the adults.” He tagged in.

“I mean…they’re really big on escape rooms.” Diana said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Hmmm, never done that before…sounds like torture.” Damian said and Diana laughed softly.

“I mean, it is if you’re not smart or have no problem solving and critical thinking skills….so yeah, maybe we should do something else- ah!” Diana shrieked as Damian playfully head-locked her for a few seconds and gave her a noogie before releasing her as he laughed at how she rubbed at the crown of her head, “Jeez.” She huffed through her own laughter and he smirked.

“What are big brothers for? Now, I’m staying at the hotel again because I want to get my money’s worth out of mom’s room, but I’ll pick Celeste up from school tomorrow if you want?”

“Yeah, that would be great. I moved my office hours to tomorrow so I’m gonna be late. Probably make it back around 7:30 or 8.” She explained.

“Perfect.” He hummed and they hugged once more before she headed up to her room. When she pulled her phone out of her purse she saw that Harry had tried to call and so she locked her bedroom door and then rushed into her bathroom and closed that door as well before calling him back. The line only rang twice before it stopped.

“Harry?” She spoke immediately.

“Hey, Di! I’m so, so sorry that-”

“I’m glad you’re alright.” She interrupted with a relieved sigh, “Fuck, I’m so happy you’re OK.” She said more quietly and he bit his lip as he heard her sniffle, “When you weren’t answering I thought maybe something had happened to you or-”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.” He apologized as he paced around his bedroom, “I didn’t mean to worry you or scare you. Fuck, I didn’t even think about that.” He said with a frown, mentally beating himself up for making her so worried like that, “How upset is Celeste?” He asked lowly.

“Pretty mad, she was looking for you right before she started and it tripped her up a bit but she…ended up publicly forgiving Megan which I wasn’t expecting.” She shared and Harry smiled as he heard this.

“Wow…we were talking about that on Monday…and then everything else went down.” He said and she hummed, “I’m so proud of her.” He sighed happily and Diana smiled, “God, I wish I could’ve been there.” He said softly. And then he realized that she hadn’t even asked where he was or what happened, “You’re not gonna ask where I was?” He asked and she huffed out a little laugh.

“Ummm, if you want to tell me you can.” She said and he chuckled, “But I didn’t feel the need to ask because I know you wanted to be there. I mean, you promised, and I figured it must’ve been something really important for you to not show up. And I don’t know if that’s my business, which is why I didn’t ask you, but I…I do know that if you could’ve been there you would have been.” She explained her reasoning for not even asking him what happened and Harry felt a sense of satisfaction with her response, she trusted him, implicitly. It gave him butterflies in his stomach to know that, “I’m just…relieved that you’re alright.” She said softly.

“Yeah, love. M’safe and sound.” He assured again and after a beat of silence he spoke up again, “Well I’m gonna tell you anyway to dissipate my guilt.” He said and she chuckled, “A client just walked in a bit before I was getting ready to go, he was in a full blown crisis, wanted to kill himself…it was kind of messy. Apparently he’d been off his meds the whole month and never said anything.” He explained and she hummed.

“See. Knew it must’ve been something big. Is he alright?”

“Yeah, he’s better thankfully. I also alerted his primary doctor, we made a safety plan, and I refilled his prescription. That took a bit of time since he wasn’t due for a refill until a week or two, so I had to chat with a pharmacist about it…it was an ordeal, but we sorted everything out.” He assured. “So ummm, what else ended up happening?”

“Well they didn’t expel Megan, she’s all good. Her ummm, her mom talked to me during the deliberation break and well she’s ummm, she’s coming around, trying to be more supportive of her.”

“That’s really good to hear.” He smiled.

“Yeah, Celeste apparently invited her to the dance with her and her friends this Friday since Megan’s friends are…assholes.”

“Oh, she’s making strides!”

“Yeah…I mean, I know she can be stubborn and resentful, but she’s got a huge, huge heart and she’s so empathic and I just think that this was really mature of her.”

“Yeah, honestly it is! I’m really, really proud of her. I’ll be sure to tell her with extra, extra sweetness on Monday.” He said and Diana sighed.

“If she even wants to see you on Monday.” Diana said and Harry chuckled.

“You really think she’d want to cancel?”

“It’s highly likely…I’m gonna ask you something and you can be honest about it, if I just..let her cancel is that like…reinforcing her to be a brat? Like I understand that she has a right to be upset, but things happen, emergencies happen, and you can’t always get what you want, you know? I think I’ve been really lenient over the last couple of months because of what she’s been going through but I also don’t want her to think that it’s OK to just not confront difficult situations. She’s capable of it, clearly, but ummm…I don’t know…” she trailed off.

“I don’t think so. If her feelings are hurt and she needs some space to just figure out what she wants to say or even if she wants to say anything I think that’s important for her to do. I mean, whether she ever brings it up or not I’ll still apologize for letting her down.” He said.

“Well thank you for that, I appreciate it. Maybe she can practice those new forgiveness skills with you too.” Diana said and Harry chuckled.

“Hopefully…”

“Ummm, Damian is leaving on Friday night, well it’s more of a redeye on Saturday, but we were planning on sending him off with a night of fun since Celeste will be at the dance. And he wanted to know if you’d like to join us?” Diana brought up and Harry grinned.

“Are you asking for your brother or is your brother asking you to ask for me to join for you?” Harry questioned and she giggled softly.

“Ummm….both? He really liked you and well, I really like you too. I told him we’ve kissed.”

“You seem to like telling people we kiss.” He mused with a smirk and Diana suddenly felt so nervous as he pointed this out.

“Oh…I guess I do, I hadn’t realized…”

“S’alright, I told Henry that we kissed right after that first time…I’m shocked he didn’t tell Grace.” Harry chuckled and Diana did as well, “I don’t mind that you tell people, by the way. I actually quite like that you…want to tell people and acknowledge it. S’never fun being a secret.”

“Yeah…and well, I just…think I want to see how people react and it’s never as bad as I assumed. And that also makes me feel less guilty about it.” She admitted.

“Good. You shouldn’t feel guilty about doing things that make you happy.” He said softly and she bit her lip to suppress her smile.

“Yeah. I’m learning that.” She confessed.

“So I do make you happy.” He stated inquisitively and she chuckled nervously as she shrugged.

“I…I mean…yes, you do.” She confirmed and Harry was smiling so hard he swore his cheeks would soon start to hurt.

“You make me happy too.” He assured and she smiled happily.

“That makes me more happy.” She said and he chuckled.

“So do you have any idea what our plans entail for Friday?”

“I suggested an escape room and he said that sounded like torture, so maybe we just do something else.” Diana said with a chuckle.

“I mean, you can never go wrong with a little bar hopping.”

“Let me just clarify that we do want him to make it to his flight, Harry.”

“We’re not gonna fuck him up, just get him a little more relaxed for the flight.” He said and she laughed quietly.

“Sure, sure.” She hummed in amusement, “Well look I’ll try to finalize everything by tomorrow, so just keep an eye out. It might be a late arrival since I had to change my office hours to tomorrow to be able to go to the meeting tonight, but it’ll get finalized tomorrow, OK?”

“Sounds good.” He assured.

“Alright. Well I’m gonna start getting ready for bed but thank you for getting back to me, I really appreciate it.” She sighed contently.

“Of course, love. See you soon. Sleep well.”

“Thank you, you too.” She smiled before they hung up.

*********

Just as Diana had thought, when she tried to bring up Harry over breakfast Celeste was still really hurt and upset that he hadn’t shown up for the meeting and she was not ready to talk to him on Monday. She was chalking it up to the fact that maybe that professional boundary had been crossed when he went to Disneyland with all of them and that she was sure now that he wasn’t going to go to her spring concert either. Diana tried to talk her down and remind her that this was still really fresh and that she might change her mind, but Celeste didn’t seem open to having a change of heart and asked her to cancel the appointment. Diana said she would, but she’d wait the weekend, she knew Harry wouldn’t mind if she notified him on Monday morning that Celeste needed more time. As they pulled up to the drop off zone at her school she reminded her that Damian was going to come get her and with that reminder she Wass saying goodbye and rushing off to the building.

Diana’s day had been quite busy. Her morning had been full of meetings with current and incoming students for advising and program planning , she’d grade a bit in between meetings before she’d move along to the next one. This is how her day flew by, it was around 7:30pm now and her eyes were burning from staring at her screen for half the day. The last week of school was already next week, so most people were feeling some sort of pressure and plenty of exhaustion. No one had come by after 6, so she’d been trying to finish as much grading as possible, she’d finish the paper she started and then call it a night.

Diana stood from her chair and stretched a bit, giving her neck and back relief from the position she’d been in nearly all day. She walked over to the big glass wall that offered a view of this little patio/picnic area that was behind their building, but she could hardly see it due to the bright lights of her office reflecting off of the glass. She huffed and went over to the switches and turned them off. She had a her desk lamp on and that lighting was still enough to illuminate her office without it being to harsh on the eyes. She went back to the window and peered out to see that the seating areas was desolate now, but the lighting on the fountain out there was so pretty and she made a mental note to take more walks out there next year. She exhaled as she walked over to roll down the blinds, the setting sun was right in her eye line. So she took the chain and tugged on it to get them down for the night. She started to rush when she heard a few taps on the open door behind her and quickly turned around.

“Hey.” Harry smiled timidly as he stood at the entrance of her office with a tote over his shoulder and a big brown paper bag in hand and she smiled brightly. He looked so cute with his light yellow pullover and his glasses on his face. She’d maybe seen him with them on once before, but she liked the look on him.

“Hi! This is a surprise.” She smiled wide.

“Yeah,” he chuckled nervously, “I hope m’not intruding. I remembered you said that you were working late tonight so I figured I’d stop by with some dinner. Hope you haven’t eaten?” He asked hopefully and her eyes softened.

“This is so thoughtful of you, Harry. And no, I haven’t had dinner.” She said with a smile and so he took that as his cue to step in. He set his tote down on a chair as she made some space on the coffee table for him to set the food down. “Ummm, I don’t expect anyone else to come by can you close the door please?” She asked as she set the books from the table on the other chair there.

“Yes.” He said and did that before starting to unpack the bag, “Alright, so I got drunken noodles and spicy eggplant.” He said.

“Ooh, that smells amazing…” she hummed, already feeling her mouth water from the scent alone. “Here’s some rice…” he said pulling out another container, “And…the mango and sticky rice.” He said pulling out another container. “Here are the plates and utensils…” he said setting those down, “Do you have napkins?”

“Yes!” She said turning around and opening one of her drawers and pulling out a thin stack of them before heading back to the coffee table and setting them down. Harry was arranging everything on the little coffee table and she grinned. “Oh wow, this looks incredible. Thank you, Harry.” She smiled with gratitude as he moved the bag aside as she sat on the rug and he followed suit.

“You’re welcome, love.” He hummed, “Just wanted to do something nice for you.” He explained as he started to open everything up, “You first.” He insisted and she sighed and went for it. They ate while making some small talk about how their days had gone and just caught up little bit before they both split dessert.

“Mango and sticky rice always hits the spot.” She hummed in delight and he smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Doesn’t it? It’s so light and simple.”

“I should learn how to make this…” she mused as she set down her fork.

“I would accept that as payment for Celeste’s therapy.” He joked.

“Say less!” She said and laughed along with with Harry, “Ummm…speaking of which…she asked me to cancel your appointment this morning.”

“Hmm…” Harry mused.

“Yeah, I haven’t because I mean…maybe she’ll get over it over the weekend or if something happens at the dance…so I’ll let you know Monday morning if that’s alright?”

“Yeah, of course.” He assured and she nodded.

“She was saying that maybe having you come to Disneyland probably made you realize you were getting too close to us so that’s why you bailed. And that you won’t be showing up to her concert for sure now…she’s quite dramatic, like all kids that age…but umm I wasn’t sure if I should be the one to tell her that you had an emergency with a client.”

“Yeah, I should explain it to her, don’t worry. And as for the concert, thank you for bringing that up I was planning on going anyway, but I definitely need to make up for missing the meeting. I’ll block that time off right now.” He said as she reached for his tote and pulled his phone out. Diana smiled as he started typing away on his phone, reminding him of the date and time when he asked, “Does she have a favorite flower or candy bar or animal?”

“Mmmm, she likes all flowers and you know, she’s never really asked me for candy bars…” Diana said pensively, “But she’s currently obsessed with llamas, though I’d really prefer if you didn’t get her one.” She joked and he chuckled.

“Got it. Buy a whole herd of llamas.” He spoke aloud as he typed on his phone and she rolled her eyes playfully as he grinned, “Isn’t her birthday coming up next week? On the 8th?” Harry asked and Diana nodded with a smile.

“Yeah actually.”

“Is she having one of those 15 year old parties?” He asked and Diana shook her head.

“Hell no. We both felt the same about that. She hasn’t told me what she wants to do with her friends yet. Ooh maybe you can teach me how to bake a really nice cake for her.” She said and Harry nodded.

“Honestly, yes. I could come over on Saturday morning? It should maintain it’s freshness for Monday.” He assured and Diana nodded in agreement. “Wow…15 years old…what were you up to 15 years ago?” He asked her and she glanced to him with a straight face and his eyebrows raised before he started to laugh, “Oh shit, yeah you were pretty busy I’d say.” He chuckled as she shook her head with a giggle.

“Yeah, I’d say a little busy… just giving birth to a whole ass person!” She said and he chuckled again and then bit on his lip.

“Ummm, how was that by the way? Having Celeste, you said you were alone.” He recalled and she nodded.

“Well I was in class when I started getting contractions, but I wasn’t due until the next week so I didn’t think much of them. They were so small and far apart that I just took a Tylenol and continued on through my day.” She said and he shook his head, “I was in my night class when they started getting more intense and so I finished my class and drove myself to the hospital.”

“You finished class? You nerd…” He chuckled and she laughed.

“It was important to me! We were learning about neurotransmitters and the synaptic cleft and all that good stuff. Even made it to finals.” She said with a grin and he chuckled, “But ummm, once they told me I was dilating quite fast I called Damian, he was in France with his girlfriend at the time because we weren’t expecting her until the next week and so he found a flight, but he wouldn’t be making it util the next night the earliest so I knew I would be alone.” She said and her smile started to drop a bit, which he noticed quickly.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He said quietly and she shook her head.

“It’s alright.” She assured him with a small nod, “That was probably the hardest thing I ever had to do.” She continued, “Like…in the moment it’s kind of hard to remember that like…the female body is built to be able to give birth.” She explained with a small chuckle and he nodded, “The nurses were really great and supportive though, they’re the ones who reminded me that women are the most powerful people on the planet and they were so encouraging-”

“Hyping you up? As the kids say.” He asked and she chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, as the kids would say.” She agreed, “And by 4am the next morning she was here!” She said with more excitement now.

“And you still went to finals?”

“Well, it was a Saturday when she was born and my first final was a Wednesday afternoon so that’s why I was able to go do that. I was only taking 3 classes at the time so it’s not like my schedule was insane for exams or anything like that.” She assured and he shook his head with a smile.

“Still! You had a baby.” He said and she giggled, “Did you know you were gonna name her Celeste?” He asked and she smiled.

“No. I was having such a hard time choosing a name. Like, I wanted a name that would also remind me a bit of Wes in some way and I was just having the hardest time doing that in a way that I liked. After she was born I was in the hospital, looking over some old photos for inspiration and well there were tons of football pictures of Wesley, our high school colors were light blue and white. And well, Wes was going to go to UCLA, which also has that light blue color. Then, in Spanish Celeste means light blue and that’s how I chose Celeste.” She shrugged and he smiled.

“It’s cool how you were able to make that connection. And well, it’s a beautiful name.” He said and she smiled.

“Thank you. As long as she likes it.” She smiled and he did as well.

“You’re so fucking cool and badass.” He smiled with pride and she looked away bashfully.

“I’m glad you think so.” She muttered, “My teenage daughter begs to differ.”

“OK, when you put it like that…” he teased and she laughed and shook her head.

“You’re so annoying.” She laughed and he grinned.

“I thought I was thoughtful…” he teased.

“We all have good and bad in us, don’t we?” She asked and he laughed softly.

“I suppose so.” He confirmed with a small smile and she sighed as they just looked at each other for a few moments and her lips quirked up in a smile again, “What?” He questioned.

“Nothing, you just…look cute with your glasses on.” She complimented and she didn’t miss how he got all bashful over it.

“Oh, ummmm, thanks. Ran out of contacts.” He explained and she hummed.

“Well, I like this but I’m also biased, if you haven’t noticed I have like…10 pairs of glasses.” She said and he chuckled.

“Yeah, but yours are all cool and funky, these are just plain.” He said.

“Yeah, meaning they don’t distract for your chiseled and handsome face.” She said with a grin.

“Chiseled and handsome, huh? Is that what you really think of me?” He asked and she giggled.

“I mean…it sounds better than just saying hot.”

“No, no. Hot is good too.” He assured her and she sniggered along with him. “I like your office, it’s really nice, cozy.”

“Thank you.” She smiled happily, “That’s the vibe I’m going for.” She assured, “How’s your grading coming along? Excited for finals next week?”

“It’s…coming.” He said and she chuckled, “The papers are so long…if they ask me back for another semester I’m gonna try an exam and see what I prefer to grade. What do you prefer?”

“Well the exams are definitely easier to grade. However, I prefer giving papers when I can, as annoying as it is, because the paper ensures that the student is applying their knowledge. If they submit a good paper that proves to me that the students have met all of the learning objectives of my class. I want them to think about the information and find a purpose for it. I mean, mostly anyone can memorize facts and answer questions about them, you know?”

“Yeah, I see your point.” He hummed pensively, “And well, my last classes were the ones this week since both sections are doing papers so I don’t have anything going for me next week.” He explained.

“So you would say yes if you were asked back?”

“Oh definitely. It was a bit terrifying at first, but I really love it. It feels like the perfect way to completely give back. Like yeah, it’s time consuming but definitely rewarding. You know, I felt so powerful and fucking cool when a student asked me for a recommendation letter a few weeks ago.” He said with a big smile and she giggled.

“Oh shit, don’t let the power go to your head!” She warned with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, it’s more gratifying than signing your name on things as a doctor.”

“Hmmm…interesting.”

“Yeah, like believing in someone so much that you vouch for them? That’s so cool.”

“It actually is pretty cool…” she agreed with a smile. They were interrupted by her phone ringing on her desk and she excused herself before standing up and going to pick it up, “Hey!” She answered as she turned around to face him again as she rested her bum on the edge of her desk, “No, Damian I didn’t realize it was almost 9.” She said and his eyes widened in shock as she looked at him and nodded, “Well I got really sucked into grading and then Harry stopped by with some dinner so I- no, it’s not a date.” She said and Harry chuckled. He agreed this was not a date, at least not the kind of date he would want to take her on, but he was glad that she was talking about him to Damian instead of making up some lie as to why she was delayed.

“Well we just got to talking. I’ll be home soon, don’t wait up, it’s fine.” She said and Harry stood up and started making his way over to her with a smile and she glanced up at him as he placed his hands on her hips as he basically closed the space between them. Harry started to lean down to her and she raised her hand to not let him get too close to her face yet and so he just kissed the palm of her hand and she smiled at him as he then kissed up her fingers, his eyes not daring to leave hers, “Ummm no, she has school for 2 more weeks so cannot stay up until midnight.” Diana said and Harry grinned, “Of course she lied to you, she’s a teenager…OK, fine. When I get home she needs to head up. Yeah, yeah…bye.” She hung up and shook her head as she put her phone down before glancing up to him with a smile, “What’s the meaning of this?” She asked playfully.

“Nothing, it made me really happy that you didn’t lie about this.” He said simply and she smiled up at him.

“Feels good to say it.” She confessed and sure, it was something so simple but it was making Harry’s heart pound erratically with excitement.

“Can I kiss you, Professor Beltran?” He asked quietly with a smug smile and she giggled as he dipped down a bit lower and she hummed pensively.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” she teased as her hands now ran up and down his chest.

“Please?” He asked quietly, almost pleading with her as his hands inched back just enough to have his fingers dig into her bottom in perfect time with his request and she giggled quietly.

“Ugh, fine…if you insist.” She said with a dramatic eye roll and he chuckled as he hoisted her up and she gasped in surprise until she felt him set her down on her desktop.

“There, you’re closer now.” He said as one of his hands cradled her face and she leaned into the warmth and comfort of his touch. He was a bit hesitant to get too close because he was fighting for his life against the erection that was raging in his pants, but she soon hugged him and pulled his body flush to her own and he exhaled shakily against her lips as she felt it pressed right up against her, their eyes were on each others’ as the sexual tension boiled over between them.

“You’re so hard for me.” She whispered, her lips tickling his with her soft words. He felt his cock throb and a chill traveled down his spine as he nodded, “Can I help you with it?” She asked and he tightened his grip on her waist as his other hand dragged her bottom lip down with his thumb.

“Love…” He whined and she smiled before kissing the pad of his thumb.

“What?”

“Is that a good idea?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have to do anything f’you don’t want though.” She whispered as her grip on him loosened up.

“Of course I want y’to but-”

“Then?” She interrupted as her hands came back to his chest and she gently raked her nails down his chest until they stopped at his trousers and he squeezed his eyes shut as his jaw tensed up and she smiled as she watched him try to keep himself composed.

“Fuck.” He groaned lowly as he knocked his head back and she leaned up a bit, supporting her weight with one hand against her desk to be able to kiss his neck and he sighed in relief as her lips sponged gentle kisses down the column of his throat. She could feel it bob as he swallowed thickly, “A-are you sure?” He asked and she hummed against his neck.

“Yeah, so fucking sure.” She whispered as she kissed him a bit harder and he dug his fingers into her as she started to suck a little, not enough to leave a mark though.

“Harder.” He mumbled his request, “Suck harder. Wanna see your mark on me tomorrow.” He muttered lowly and breathily and she moaned softly as she parted her mouth a bit more and sucked a bigger patch of his skin into her mouth as her right hands traveled lower to grope at the bulge in his pants, “Oh shit…” he sighed in satisfaction as she started to rub the palm of her hand up and down his length. He knew he was holding her too hard so he let her go and grabbed the edge of her desk instead, his grip was so hard that his knuckles were going white as she worked him up even more. She smoothed her tongue over the mark she left under his jaw before kissing it tenderly and then pulled back a bit.

“Can I undo your pants?” She asked him.

“Yeah, baby.” He confirmed and she moved forward with his permission.

Diana immediately brought her hands to the button and unfastened it with ease before she moved to the zipper, she tugged it down gently and thankfully with a steady hand despite the nerves she felt at the prospect of being sexually intimate with someone after quite a long time. Nerves were natural. And she was relieved that she felt nervous in this moment rather than anxious, because she’d been so anxious about sexual intimacy, which is why she hadn’t done anything with anyone in a while. But Harry was a safe person to her, she knew that there was plenty more to learn about him, but she knew enough to trust him and to feel comfortable around him. She was attracted to him and she often found herself fantasizing about him when she got some alone time. She hadn’t realized that she’d not moved for a few moments until Harry’s hands grabbed her cheeks and turned her up to his face.

“Hey, are you OK?” He asked quietly as he searched her eyes.

“Ummm, yeah I’m just nervous and I was justing thinking that I haven’t done something like this in a really long time.” She explained.

“Like I said before, you don’t have to do anything f’you don’t want to.” He reminded her and she nodded.

“I know. I want to, I just…might be rusty.” She huffed through a small chuckle and he leaned in and kissed her slowly. Her mind just blanked as she got lost in the way that their lips moved together, almost like a dance. He was leading the kiss and she was following until she just needed more. She sucked at his bottom lip before peeking her tongue into his mouth and he took the hint and deepened the kiss. They were breathing hard now and her hand sunk back down and slipped under his open trousers to feel him over his underwear. She couldn’t help it as her mouth watered upon feeling the outline of his erection straining the fabric over it. Her fingers came back up to the band of the briefs and ran over it a few times, building up the courage to get underneath it. She appreciated that Harry wasn’t rushing her to do anything despite his evident desperation for her. He then parted his lips from her and smiled at her. “What is it?” She asked at the smirk adorning his lips.

“You’re definitely not rusty.” He assured, “Teasing the way you are is a pro move.” He sniggered and she bit her bottom lip for a moment.

“I have a confession to make.”

“Go on.”

“It’s not deliberate, I’m just stalling.” She admitted through a giggle and he chuckled as he kissed her cheek.

“Well it definitely doesn’t come across like that.” He said with a smile.

“Well good.” She sighed through a giggle. And her smile dropped as she bit her lip again and glanced down to watch as her hand gently pulled the band of his briefs away from his body, “So you like being teased?” She asked quietly before glancing up into his eyes. Harry nodded in confirmation because he couldn’t trust his voice at the moment. Not with her fingers toying with the band of his briefs and with her big, beautiful eyes peering into his own. He had been craving her for ages and here they were, on the brink of having just a little bit more with each other, it was too exhilarating, “Why?” She asked and he chuckled.

“Ummm, it’s exciting I guess. To not know when to expect something. The building of the tension…fighting to keep your composure…edging…” he said and she hummed in understanding as she glanced down between them and then back into his eyes, “I mean, patience is a virtue I’ve been blessed with.” He smiled smugly and she grinned.

“Hmmm, can’t say the same for me.” She admitted, “I hate to be kept waiting.” She said with a smile.

“We’ll see about that.” He hummed as he placed his hands on her thighs and she smirked as she finally dipped her hand into his briefs and tugged them low enough that his penis was freed up and fell into the minimal space between them. She licked over her lips with lust, watching it bob up and down a few times with the weight of it. It was really pretty, she couldn’t deny it. It was uncut, long and thick, his tip was a dark pink and everything inside of her was begging her to lick and suck at it until his arousal was pooling steadily into her mouth. She had to touch him and so she quickly wrapped her hand around his shaft and gave him a gentle squeeze. Harry sighed in relief and she smiled lightly as she looked back at his face only to find that he was already looking at her. Despite the hungry look in his eyes, he remained calm and like he had said, patient. So patient, so good, so determined to not pressure her or push her into continuing on if she changed her mind and in the end that’s exactly why she continued. She tightened her grip around him a little more and dragged her hand up and he squeezed her thighs just a bit in return, “S’that alright?” She asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, feels good.” He said lowly and she dragged her fist back down. Harry swallowed thickly as she started to set her pace. He was just about to ask her to mind his tip when she started to circle over it with her thumb and he moaned lowly as his eyes squeezed shut at the new and delicious sensation, “That’s…that’s so good.” He hummed and she bit her lip, not sure whether to watch his face contorting in pleasure and satisfaction, or to just stare at his beautiful penis. She decided to put her saliva to good use and pulled her hand away to spit onto her palm and then wrap it back around his cock. He groaned as the slickness made her strokes glide with even more ease and in her excitement she started going a little faster and his body tensed up, “Fuck, just like that, baby.” He chuckled breathily as his head dropped back and his fingers dug into her thighs.

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest as he fought to just keep it down. He had only been dreaming of this moment for months now and it was finally coming true. His breathing was labored as he grunted quietly with each stroke of Diana’s fist over his cock. He was so fucking hard that he just felt this immense pressure in his lower stomach. His fingers were gripping hard at her thighs, just needing to hold on to something so that he didn’t feel like he was withering away every time her fist dragged over his sensitive and leaking tip. The build up was incredible, he could feel his knees buckling the closer and closer he got to his orgasm. His breathing was hitching in his throat and he’d bite down hard on his lip to keep his sounds to a minimum because the pleasure had him reeling, he’d been waiting for this with her for so long and it was superseding his expectations.

“Oh fuck, baby!” He moaned as she tightened her fist a bit more and started stroking faster, building him up for his finish, “Y-you’re gonna make me come.” He panted as he spared a glance down to his cock in her fist, watching it moving up and down quickly, “I’m so close!” He grunted and she smiled at him and it was making him melt.

“Yeah, baby?” She asked and his entire body jolted when he heard her call him that. He swore that his heart exploded just from hearing her call him a term of endearment and that was his undoing. He could feel his entire body tingling and he forced himself to remove his hands from her thighs and instead gripped the desk as his abs started to clench and his lungs to tighten without his permission. He felt like time froze for a few seconds as the pleasure peaked and his jaw slacked as he panted hard, trying to keep himself quiet as he felt the thick, milky streams of his sperm started to shoot out of his tip. He thrust into her hand as she kept going, keeping her pace to get him through the entirety of his orgasm and as his thrusting slowed and his breathing shuddered she slowly came to a stop, not releasing him just yet, but definitely loosening her grip around him. Despite his orgasm, his cock hadn’t softened yet. She could feel him throbbing in her hand, that big vein on the underside pulsed in perfect time with his rapid heart beat, “You’re still so hard. Got a little more for me?” She asked as she glanced up to him and he blinked his eyes open and nodded.

“Go slow.” He whispered and she nodded as she started stroking him a bit again, “Fuck yeah.” He hummed as he watched intently this time as she milked the last bit out of him. Definitely not as much as the first one, but there was just a little more he needed to get out of his system. These last couple streams just oozed out of his tip and down her fist and with a brain still foggy with pleasure he grabbed her face and kissed her hungrily. His tongue invaded her mouth and slid against her own as her soft moan poured into his mouth. Moments later they parted and he rested his forehead against hers, “Fuck, that was incredible, thank you, baby.” He said through his ragged breathing and she nuzzled her nose against his before kissing his lips quickly.

“No problem.” She sniggered and he smiled.

“Your turn?” He asked suggestively as he kissed her cheek.

“Maybe another time, I need to get home.” She huffed and he pulled back and pouted.

“I feel like a total ass now. I knew I should’ve insisted on ladies first.” He said and she shook her head.

“No, no, no, it’s alright. To be quite honest this was…a lot. I wasn’t expecting to do that. And I don’t regret it, at all!” She clarified, “But I’m just not…ready for that… w-with you…I think.” She explained nervously. Not really sure how he would react, but he just nodded.

“That’s alright. You don’t need to justify it to me.” He said and she frowned.

“I think I do.” She said and went to reach for his face but then saw that she was still covered in his cum, “Oh, ummm-”

“Hang on.” Harry said and then reached behind her and pulled a couple of tissues from the box she had on her desk and cleaned her of his mess, “There.” He said softly before balling up the tissues and tossing them in the garbage can right beside her desk.

“Thanks. Ummm…” she started and sighed, “It’s not that I don’t want to do this with you, believe me I do! I’ve gotten off to the thought of doing plenty of things with you a few times already…and fuck, that’s…TMI.” She shook her head, the nerves were getting the best of her, and he grinned at her confession but he stayed quiet and let her finish, “I’m just…afraid of what that’ll mean for me.” She explained, “Like I…” she sighed and swallowed thickly, expressing her feelings was so hard for her but she needed to do it now, she owed it to him, “I like you, Harry. I like you a lot and I just think that…if we’re not careful I could see myself really falling for you and-”

“OK, would that really be such a bad thing?” He asked.

“Yes! It would be right now, at least.” She said to him.

“I think you’re just scared.”

“Of course I am! I just told you I’m afraid of this! Of us! Of what I feel!” She groaned, “I’m not ready.” She shook her head, “I’m not ready to add more complications to what we already have going on! If I sleep with you it’ll change everything!”

“We’re not gonna have sex. We don’t have to for as long as you don’t want.”

“I’ll cave! I’ll cave because it’s you! I mean…fuck!” She groaned in frustration.

“Di, look at me.” He said softly as her eyes met his, “I care about you. I only want you. You’re all I think about day in and day out. I’m starting to fall for you, even with the limited access I have to your life! I want this. I want you.” He said to her earnestly.

“Well it’s not just me, Harry.” She said softly, “I have my daughter to think about as well. My happiness is her happiness and vise versa.”

“You know that I care about Celeste, love.”

“Being a father is far more complex than just caring about someone, Harry. And you’ve told me before that you never wanted kids!” She reminded and he sighed.

“It’s a little more complicated than that for me, but even still! People change their minds all the time!”

“I don’t want you to just change your mind just to get me in exchange, Harry. What if you change your mind about this again? What if I let you in and you wake up one day and realize that you never wanted that?” She asked and he shrugged.

“I’d never commit to you without considering all of that seriously first, Diana. And well, you just need to trust me.” He said simply and she sighed and shook her head.

“I need to go.” She said instead and pushed him back a bit so that she could get back on her feet and he just moved aside and did his pants back up. He felt his heart aching more and more by the second as she just turned around to face away from him and he frowned as she started to cry.

“Di, baby.” He said softly as he reached for her arm and she flinched away from him, “Don’t do this.” He pleaded quietly. His heart broke as she started to sob. He felt beyond shitty now, but she insisted that it had been fine, that she wanted to take this step with him. Maybe he should’ve tried harder to dissuade her? Sure, she was saying that she didn’t regret it but she was crying about it and that certainly wasn’t because she was happy about what they had done. He rolled his lips together for a moment, but before he could even continue beating himself up over this he nipped that in the bud with a curt, but painful sentence, “I knew I shouldn’t have come here.” He said lowly, but not low enough to spare her from his words. They cut deep and made her let out another sob, “Ummm…tell your brother to have a good flight for me.” He said before grabbing his things. She turned around now, sniffling.

“Harry…” she whimpered.

“I can’t keep doing this with you!” He said with frustration, “It’s not fair! I understand that you’re hurt and that you’re scared but you can’t keep hiding behind your tragedies, Diana!” he expressed, “I mean, it’s been 15 years, Di. Don’t you ever get tired of making the same excuses?” He asked her with a frown, “You self-sabotage better than anyone I’ve ever known! And at this point you’re actively choosing to not move on from the past. You’re choosing this for yourself.” He said with pity and she hiccuped on her sob, “And quite frankly I…I don’t need this.” He said to her and headed out. The loud bang of her office door closing behind him made her flinch. Moments later the door swung open again, “And don’t you dare bookmark this moment as an example of how people always abandon you or that you’ve always been alone because I have tried. I have tried for months!” He pointed at her before leaving again and right before she could even make her next move he came back through the door again, “And I don’t know why I feel like the biggest asshole when you’re the one who insisted on getting me off! I have feelings too! I’m not an experiment for you to figure out what the fuck you want or what you are and aren’t ready for!” He scolded.

“I know you’re not, Harry.” She said quietly

“Well that’s what you’re making me feel like! I feel used. You…you push me away and then pull me back in and give me hope that we can work things out and then you push me away again until something happens and I’m just stupidly available for you! Taking any crumb of attention you’re willing to spare me. I know you’re in a tough spot, but if you don’t see this going anywhere just say it.” He said and she frowned.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I assure you I never meant to make you feel that way.” She apologized and he sighed.

“I know…I know that, but that’s what you’re doing.” He said to her sadly and her heart broke seeing the pain in his eyes, “Maybe I am the asshole for pursuing you when I knew how you felt about this from the start.” He concluded sadly.

“You’re not an asshole, Harry.” She said coming up to him and taking his hands in hers and her frown deepened when he pulled them out of her grasp.

“I stand by what I said before I can’t do this anymore.” He said looking into her eyes as she started to cry again, “Just…figure your shit out, Diana.” He said with disappointment before heading out and after a few more moments he didn’t return.

Diana groaned in frustration as more tears fell and after a few more minutes of that she started to clean up. She put all of their now empty food containers in the bag they’d arrived in and set them by the trash can; she put her decor back where they went and then grabbed her things to head out. When she opened her office door to leave she saw Harry standing right across the hall with his phone in his hand and he glanced up at her.

“Didn’t want you to walk alone at this hour.” He said quietly. Diana just pulled her door shut, hearing it click to indicate it had locked.

“Thank you.” She said and he nodded as they started to head down the hall in silence. When they got in the elevator they stood across from each other, he glanced back at his phone and she just stayed looking at him and as she glanced down his body she rolled her lips together to suppress the giggle that wanted to leave her mouth despite the clear tension brewing between them, “Ummm, you’ve got ummm…cum on your pant leg.” She said and he glanced up to her.

“Well so do you.” He said and she glanced down at herself and saw that she was indeed stained as well.

“Oh…thanks.” She responded and then glanced up at him again, “N-not for the cum stain! F-for telling me about it.” She clarified and his eyes met her’s again and he shook his head as he fought a smile, “What?”

“Well duh, goes without saying that you were thanking me for telling you and not for…Jesus.” He said and she started to giggle and he shook his head. “Stop that! I’m still mad at you.” He said as he fought his hardest to keep a straight face.

“You can still be mad at me and laugh at my scrambled up brain.” She said and he shook his head.

“You’re something else…” he chuckled lowly and she smiled, she’d accept that over him shouting all her truths to her face.

The doors finally slid open and they started making their way to the parking structure closest to her building. She was definitely angry at him for losing his patience and shouting at her, but she wasn’t going to fight him on it because he was totally right about everything he’d said. Maybe in a couple of days once he’d cooled off she’d be able to tell him that she didn’t love the way he spoke to her and that maybe in the future he could vocalize his concerns earlier on instead of letting everything build up this way? But as that thought materialized in her head she recognized that trying to “avoid” her feelings for him was futile because well, they already existed despite how cautious she thought she was being. It was pointless to try and shut someone out who had already been let in. Even without her realizing it, his charming, helpful, and loving nature had softened her up enough that he’d unknowingly made a home for himself in her heart and she didn’t want that space to be empty. She loved him. There was no question about it.

“Hey, what is it? Did you forget something?” Harry asked because she had stopped walking and she soon shook her head as she looked at him.

“Ummm, no, it’s fine. I’m…I’m fine.” She assured and he looked at her skeptically for a moment before she nodded again in reassurance and they kept walking. She obviously wanted to tell him but it would feel a tad manipulative to say it to him right after the argument they had. Like she’d say anything to not lose him and continue using him, she didn’t want him to even think that was an option. Of course she wasn’t using him, she could never, but it made her so sad to know that he felt like that. Like he was just a person she called on for convenience. And well, if he was done, she had no idea what she would do, but she certainly didn’t want to hurt him anymore. She was mulling the thoughts in her head until they got into the structure.

“What floor are you on?”

“Second.” She said.

“Do you want to take the stairs?”

“I don’t care, I just…I need you to know that I’m not using you, I never have.” She explained to him, “I hate to think that I make you feel that way about us. And yeah, I admit that I do call for you when things get tough but because you…you make me feel safe and looked after and you always know what to say to make me feel better and I…I need you.” She said and his eyes softened, “I want you around. I enjoy being with you and around you and I don’t ever want you to feel like anything we’ve shared together has been some scheme to just keep you close by until things get better.” She sighed.

“I’m not great at expressing my feelings or even knowing what to do with them, like I’ve grown up with such cold and callous people and the only time I ever let myself fall in love was with Wes and look how that ended!” She expressed with frustration, “You’re right, I choose to be alone. But it’s not because I enjoy it or want to be alone, it just works for me! It always has! I’m just fine all alone! I always had been until…until you.” She confessed as she met his gaze, “It scares me to know that everything I know about how to live and carry myself would potentially change. Like I’ve been this way since I was 19, Harry! That’s a really long time…15 years.” She said to him and he nodded, “I think that more than getting hurt, I fear hurting you.” She explained, “And I feel like shit knowing I already did. And you’ve been wonderful and so patient with me and I know that I’ve pushed the bar way too fucking much. So I…understand why you’re done with this. W-with me.” She said as her eyes welled up and he frowned, “I don’t want to string you along, Harry. You don’t deserve this so I respect your decision.” She said and swallowed thickly.

“You respect my decision?” He asked her and she nodded, “Diana…that’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He said to her and she frowned, “We both have a say in this. If you agree that whatever this was has run it’s course, fine. But don’t just agree with me if that’s not what you want!” He said to her and she sighed.

“Well you’re clearly done and upset with me, why would I try and change your mind?” She asked.

“Because! It’s what people do when they…care about each other! They fight for each other. They try and work things out!” He responded, completely exasperated.

“Well, I’ve never had to do that before so…now I know.” She said and he shook his head as he fought off a smile, “What?”

“Nothing I just…forget that it’s been a while for you.” He said and she chuckled through her tears.

“More than a while, I’d say…” she responded and he hummed in agreement with a smile.

“I’m sorry I blew up on you that was wrong of me.” He apologized, he was always so good about that, it was one of her favorite things about him.

“I accept your apology, but I understand why you exploded like that. And you know, I’d like to think that I’m a pretty receptive and approachable person about this kind of stuff. So maybe in the future you can just tell me as things come up and not let it build up to that point, you know?” She said and he smiled.

“In the future, huh?” He asked and she felt her cheeks heat with a blush as she nodded.

“Yeah, in the future.” She repeated, “That is of course i-if you still want to be in my life in the future. Because I’d really like you to be.” She clarified softly and he reached for her hand and the amount of relief she felt surge through her body was epic and she just batted him aside and hugged him instead and he chuckled as he hugged her back.

“Of course I want to be in your life.” He said softly as he rocked them back and forth a bit.

“Good. I’m so sorry for making you feel less important than you are to me.” She apologized yet again.

“I guess I forgive you.” He hummed and she scoffed playfully which made him smile.

“Ummm, Harry?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” She asked as she pulled back to meet his gaze.

“I’d love to.” He responded immediately with a big grin.

“Perfect! I’ll plan something and run it by you.” She said with a meek smile.

“Perfect.” He agreed. He couldn’t stop smiling because yes, it had been hard, but what he felt for her was well worth the challenges. He couldn’t lie to himself about his feelings, they were more “love” than just “like” by now and well, he knew that was big. So he wouldn’t spring that on her just yet, but he couldn’t wait for the day where he’d finally be able to just say it to her. Just tell her that he loves her.

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lipstickstainz · 4 years ago

Text

just a few days - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: There’s no denying that Spencer and you hate each other. What happens, when you are forced to spend a few days together? Warnings: enemies to lovers, language, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), typical criminal minds stuff Word Count: 4.5k A/N: hello friends. this is my first one shot and I hope you like it. gif not mine.

„I didn’t think you could be any more of a shithead, but you just proved me wrong.“

Many people believe in love at first sight. The heart starts racing, the knees go weak and you feel dizzy. You want to get to know the other person at all costs. Which is total bullshit, of course. You can't fall in love with someone at first sight. Interest, yes, but that's not love.

With Spencer and you it was different. The first time you met, you were breathless. Your muscles tensed to the breaking point, the blood pulsed in your ears, and your stomach turned. Only, in your case, it definitely wasn't love.

„I saw a trash bag on the side of the road today. Reminded me of you“, you shot back and Spencer rolled his eyes.

Hate at first sight really did exist, and Spencer and you were the prime example.

There was always a stupid comment, a scathing sideways glance, or catty laughter. Neither of you took it personally - why would you? You weren't interested in each other's opinions - and it didn't interfere with your work, which is why Hotch didn't say anything about it. It annoyed him, but he had also noticed that the quality of your work was higher when you were at each other's throats than when you worked separately.

You couldn't even remember why you had been so hostile to each other from the beginning. It was mutual antipathy, but no one knew why. You didn't know each other from anywhere else, had never met anywhere. Actually, you were someone who gave people a chance first to get to know them reasonably, but with Spencer it only took one look before you were sure you definitely didn't like him. Was it his aura? His charisma? His constant need to be smarter than everyone else?

At first, the two of you had been holding back. You had been professional with each other, staying out of each other's way as much as possible and not exchanging more words than necessary. Everything had been fine until one day something slipped out of Spencer's mouth. The team had been sitting in the conference room discussing the latest case. You had said something about the murder weapon when Spencer had rolled his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you had asked him, annoyed. Spencer sat up straight in his chair and grabbed the crime scene photo.

"I've never heard anything so stupid," he said, looking at you with amusement.

"Excuse me?"

"Stop it," Hotch intervened. "We don't have time for bitching. JJ, inform the department we're on our way. Wheels up in thirty."

From that moment on, there was no turning back. You tried to belittle each other, but Hotch had forbidden you to relate it to work. Teasing and mean statements were allowed, but you were not allowed to get in the way of your work. And the most important thing: no arguing in front of outsiders. The team was used to it, but if others got wind of it, it would undermine your authority. So you had to pull yourselves together at times. Which was no problem.

Once inside the police department, Hotch divided the team. "Y/L/N, Reid, you'll go to the crime scene and examine the house for any abnormalities that might indicate motive," he said, and you looked at each other with disgust in your eyes. Hotch cleared his throat and gave you a look that said, "Get your act together or I'll send you home."

On the way to the scene, the radio was playing and you hummed the tune contentedly. You almost forgot who you were in the car with if Spencer hadn't suddenly turned off the radio. You made an annoyed noise.

"I wanted to hear that."

"I know," Spencer grinned, glancing at you briefly before looking out the window again. "And that's why I turned it off."

Sometimes you could strangle him.

The house was pretty run down from the outside. Spencer and you looked at each other. "If I had to hide your body somewhere, it would be right here," you grinned, walking toward the front door.

"I won't give you the satisfaction of killing me," he said, his mouth twisting into a crooked smile. "My death should have meaning. I'm not going to let someone like you kill me over that."

The interior of the house was in complete contrast to the exterior. Every room was cleaned and tidy, there was not a speck of dust anywhere, and the way magazines, pictures, and other decorations had been laid down indicated -.

"OCD," Spencer noted. "Look, Y/N. The magazines all have the same number of pages, the picture frames on the windowsill are all the same distance apart, and -" , he opened a cabinet in the kitchen, "the handles on the cups all point in the same direction."

"So the person has damage like yours," you said, surveying the pictures in the hallway. Luckily there were only two of you, or you would have had to stifle the comment.

"Ha. Ha. I don't have OCD."

"You still have some damage. Forensics said traces of bleach were found throughout the house," you added to his insight, walking down the hall. "The unsub cleaned and left everything like this."

"And how would you know that?" asked Spencer, who had followed you. In the ceiling in the hallway was the hatch that led you to the attic.

"The pictures in the hallway are not of the victim. They're printed photos of people from the Internet. There is no connection." You climbed the ladder and what awaited you there did not surprise you. The attic was filled with junk. It seemed like everything had just been shoved in. But again, there was not a woolly mouse to be seen.

"Apparently, the unsub places a lot of importance on maintaining the appearance of orderly, clean living."

You nodded at him and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. "Garcia, please search for wealthy families where children have been hospitalized with broken bones, hematomas or other injuries," you said, and Spencer snatched the phone from your hand. Annoyed, you looked at him.

"Equate that to sports injuries again, please. Thank you," he asked her before hanging up and tossing you the phone.

"Sports injuries?" you asked him, and he nodded.

"No parents would take their child to the hospital with injuries like that without an explanation. Sports injury is a good way to disguise something like that," he explained and you left the loft. When you got back into the car, you looked at him.

"If you snatch that phone out of my hand again, you'll be the next one with a slit throat," you smiled sweetly at him.

Spencer laughed out loud. "You grow a few more inches first, then maybe you can get to my throat."

Back at the precinct, the team profiled him and shared it with detectives. The plan was to lure him out of hiding and hope he would say or do something so you could arrest him.

"Bailey is targeting young couples in their twenties and thirties who are still in the early stages of their lives. They all moved in together a few days before they died. They were all very messy, which showed not only in their apartment, but also in their style of dress," Rossi explained.

"That's why two of our team will go undercover to draw him out," Hotch continued, giving Spencer and you a meaningful look. You knew what that meant. And you weren't in the mood for that. "Agent Y/L/N and Doctor Reid will be moving into a house on the outskirts of town, in the exact area where the last victim was found. Since he likes to return to the scene of his crime, he'll take notice."

"And then what do we do?" the sheriff asked, writing diligently.

"He'll show up a few days later and then we can go get him," Emily brought the conversation to a close and the group broke up. Hotch motioned Spencer and you to come with him to an adjoining room.

"I blindsided you with the proposal, and for that I'm sorry," he said, looking from Spencer to you, "but I'm afraid we have no choice. Tomorrow morning you'll move into the house and then it's only a matter of time before he comes. Just a few days. And until then, please try not to kill each other."

Spencer and you had been sitting together all night, working out a plan. Not only did you have to pretend to be a happy couple in front of others, you had to pretend behind closed doors. And that certainly wasn't going to be easy.

"Spencer, I'm only going to ask you this once," you began. "Are you okay with me touching you? Otherwise, we'll have to figure something else out. You can't flinch when I reach for your hand or give you a kiss on the cheek, even if I don't want to do that myself."

"I can handle that," he grinned. "As long as you promise not to snuggle up to me in your sleep. Because then I'll have to vomit."

Hotch was pretty happy with your plan and wished you good luck. He didn't want to bug the house because you still needed privacy, but the whole team was on speed dial. Besides, the others would take turns watching you. You weren't afraid, but knowing the others were always there calmed you down a bit.

The next morning, Spencer and you drove to your house. It looked a lot like the last victim's house. One story and an attic, the front yard hadn't been tended in ages. Spencer parked the car in the driveway and got out first so he could open the door for you like a gentleman.

"Are you ready for our new life?" he smiled, pulling you into his arms before you headed toward the door. His perfume was so strong it clouded your mind.

"With you, I'm ready for anything," you returned, placing your lips on his cheek.

Living with Spencer was more pleasant than you had imagined. You spent most of your time together in silence, Spencer with a book and you with music or magazines. You didn't avoid each other either, but spent every second together. Spencer always helped you cook and you helped him do laundry. You even went shopping together. There were little spats in between, but otherwise you got along fine.

You also noticed some things about Spencer that had completely escaped your attention until now. For example, he always had several books lying next to him when he read one. Which made sense if he finished one of them within ten minutes. Also, he would always mouth off a little when he was talking about something that was bothering him. And when he was talking about something he liked, he spoke with an incredible passion that was contagious.

What surprised you the most was sleeping next to each other. Since you also had to pretend to be overjoyed at home, you had also planned to share a bed. It was the most sensible and the easiest. Spencer's presence even calmed you down when you woke up in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream, and his regular breathing in the evening helped you fall asleep.

On the fourth night, a nightmare jolted you from sleep. You didn't remember what exactly you had dreamed, but you knew that you wouldn't fall asleep again so quickly. As quietly as you could, you got out of bed, not wanting to wake Spencer, and went to the kitchen. You flipped on the light over the stove, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. After a big gulp, you felt better, but still worried. Tired, you leaned against the counter and rubbed your hand over your face.

"Are you alright?" asked Spencer, entering the kitchen. He was wearing a loose T-shirt and boxers. Something you hadn't noticed before.

"I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry," you said honestly, putting the glass in the sink. Spencer just smiled, "I had a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, standing next to you, you shook your head. "Okay." He was about to head back toward the bedroom, but stopped in the doorway. Spencer looked at you and you smiled weakly. He approached you again and reached for your hand. Carefully he pulled you to him and put his free hand on your lower back to press you closer to him. You laid your head against his chest and could hear his heartbeat. Then Spencer slowly rocked back and forth.

No one said a word as you danced with each other in the kitchen in the middle of the night. You enjoyed each other's presence and warmth. Spencer put a finger under your chin and made you look at him. There was no hate or dislike in his eyes. There was a twinkle in them that confused you greatly. Gently, he placed his lips on your forehead before pulling away.

"Let's go back to sleep," he smiled, pulling you by the hand back into the bedroom. In bed, he reached his arms out to you so you could lay your head on his chest. There it was again, his heartbeat. But this time it was faster, steady, but faster. Spencer reached for your hand again and intertwined your fingers. "Sleep well, Y/N," he was still whispering, but you were barely aware of it. You had never fallen asleep so quickly.

The next day, the two of you went for a walk in the evening. Spencer's hand in yours no longer felt strange, but very familiar. The whole relationship between you had changed fundamentally. There was no more bitching, no more evil glances, no more spiteful laughter. You wondered if it would stay that way when you left the house, or if you would go back to your old ways. Secretly, you hoped that you would remain friends when all this was over. Even though you had only been here a short time, you had actually grown fond of Spencer. You just hoped he felt the same way about you.

"Y/N," Spencer whispered when you reached your street.

"Huh?" You looked up at him and he smiled lovingly at you. You would never get enough of that look.

"Please look at me when I tell you this now. There's a man walking across the street, right at our level, with his hood pulled over his head," he continued to whisper and I tried not to let on. "He's been following us for two blocks. I think it's him."

I nodded. "We need to show him that we are to be his next victims," you stated. When you arrived at your house, Spencer pulled you even closer. You knew what was coming. You didn't resist, and not because it was part of your plan, but because you were waiting for it.

Spencer put his hands to your cheeks and leaned down to put his lips on yours. Your heart started racing, your knees went weak, and you felt dizzy. If Spencer hadn't been holding you, you would have slipped through his fingers. His lips were soft and warm and when you kissed him back, a grumble sounded from his chest. One of his hands moved to your butt, pressing your hips against his as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You felt hot and warm shivers ran down your spine. You tried not to think about the fact that you could feel his erection against your belly, but failed miserably.

With his other hand, Spencer reached for the key and opened the door without breaking away from you, then pushed you into the house where he could have pulled away from you, but he didn't. His kisses grew hungrier and greedier, his hands reaching under your butt so he could lift you up. Your legs knotted behind him. He carried you toward the bedroom and pressed you against the wall. You rubbed your hips against his and he moaned into your mouth.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, sliding a hand under your shirt. His fingers danced over your bare skin and his touch burned into your skin. You wished this moment would never end.

"Cameron Bailey, put the knife down and raise your hands," Derek called out. Spencer and you jumped apart, completely confused and gasping for air, and saw the team standing in your bedroom. Derek took Bailey into custody and led him away. How had you not noticed that he had come into the house?

"Are you all right?" asked Emily, but you could only nod. What would have happened if Bailey hadn't broken in? How far would Spencer and you have gone?

It wasn't long before the team was back on the plane. Spencer sat alone at one end of the plane and you at the other. You hadn't had time to talk about what had happened, because after Bailey was arrested, you had packed your things and gone to the airport with the others. But what did you want to talk about? About the kiss? About the touch? About your friendship, if you could call it that? Never in your life had you been so uncertain as at that moment.

Spencer probably didn't want anything more to do with you, and you tried to tell yourself that you were okay with that. You tried to adjust to things going back to the way they were. It scared you that deep down you cared. You had hated Spencer for years and just a few days with him had completely turned your feelings upside down. And that bothered you the most.

"I could use a beer right now," Derek said when you arrived at Quantico. "Anyone coming?"

"I'm going home," you replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "My shower is waiting for me and my bed is calling for me too."

"Same here," Spencer gave and together you walked to the elevator while the others talked about where to go to celebrate. The silence between Spencer and you was unbearable, both outside the elevator and inside. You wanted to say something, but couldn't manage more than a guarded smile, which he kindly returned. At least no more bitching.

"Good night, Y/N," he said goodbye and left without turning around once more. You took a deep breath and headed home as well.

Once home, you dropped your bag on the floor and tried to wash off Spencer's touch in the shower. You brushed your teeth to scrub his taste from your tongue, but nothing could chase away the thoughts that haunted your mind. You put on fresh panties and an oversized shirt, which ended just below your butt. You were on your way to the couch when there was a knock on your door.

Without hesitation you opened the door and your heart stopped. Spencer stood in front of you, hands buried in his pockets and a small smile on his lips. "Hi."

"Hey," you said softly, and you didn't realize until then that you were standing in front of him half-naked. Embarrassed, you pulled the hem of your shirt down further. He glanced briefly at your hands and blushed before looking you in the eye again.

"I know this probably sounds stupid, but I don't know if I'll be able to sleep alone tonight. I've gotten used to sleeping next to you and after today, I don't think either of us should spend the night alone," he babbled, entering your apartment without prompting. You shut the door behind him. "Besides, there's something I wanted to do." Carefully he put his bag on the kitchen counter and came towards you with long steps.

It was not five seconds before he pressed his mouth on yours and a sigh came out of your mouth. His hands were everywhere and nowhere at the same time, so greedily they moved over your body, while yours got caught in his hair. When his fingers grazed your bare skin on your legs, you slumped against him.

"I didn't want to let you go home alone," he whispered between kisses, looking deep into your eyes. "I didn't want to sit so far away from you on the plane either, and when I got home, all I wanted was to be with you." His tongue dominated yours as his hands slid under your shirt. Your skin burned like fire where he touched you. "Tell me to stop, Y/N. Please tell me to stop and leave. Because if you don't do it now, I'll stay forever."

You went to kiss him, but he broke away from you and grabbed your chin with one hand, making you look at him. He was expecting a response. "Stay, Spencer. Stay forever and I'm yours."

That's all the confirmation he needed. His hands were on your hips again, but moved further down to briefly stroke your ass before leaning down and grabbing the back of your thighs. Without effort, he lifted you up and his lips assaulted your neck, and as he sucked on the soft spot where your jaw met your neck, all you could do was whimper his name.

Spencer carried you into your bedroom with ease, his mouth never leaving your heated skin. The warmth in your body grew with each kiss as he gently laid you on the bed. You pushed yourself to the head of the bed, allowing your head to rest on the soft pillow as Spencers hovered over you to kiss your neck.

His lips moved to your collarbone, his hands slid under your shirt and you arched up to meet him so he could easily pull it off. Hastily you reached for his shirt and undid the buttons to rip it from his torso. His weight was heavy on you and his hot skin almost burned you with every further touch. Without a word, you unbuttoned his pants and he kicked them off his long legs. For a brief moment you looked at each other. In that look were all the apologies you wanted to say, but that was no longer important. What was important was the man in front of you, the man you had fallen head over heels in love with in just a few days.

You put your hands on Spencer's back and felt the muscles dancing under your fingers. You took a quick glance at his black boxer briefs, which already seemed a little too tight for him.

"God, you're beautiful," he moaned as he glanced down your body. His hands were on your breasts and he rolled your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Again, you arched up to meet him.

"Spencer," you moaned, "no teasing. Please," you begged, closing your eyes to feel his touch more intensely. When you opened your eyes again, you could see a crooked grin on his face. He was enjoying your begging. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your panties and you could hear him ripping them. Cool air met your hot core and Spencer's boxers landed on the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You had to swallow. He was long and surprisingly thick and you wondered if he would fit. Spencer looked at you silently with raised eyebrows.

"I'm on the pill," you explained, grabbing his shaft with your hand and running your thumb over the tip to smear the pre-cum, making him moan with pleasure. You pumped him two times before Spencer grabbed your wrist.

"I won't last long if you keep this up, love," he rasped, guiding his pulsing erection to your wet entrance. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him so close to you that there wasn't an inch between you. He looked at you one more time, searching for something in your face, but you just smiled at him, drunk with love. And then he glided home.

His cock was stretching you like no man before did and it almost hurt, but with the pain came the pleasure. Spencer rested his forehead on yours and his breath was hot on your skin. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You leaned into his gentle touch.

"Move, please, Spence," you purred, and that was all he needed. He withdrew almost completely from you before thrusting into you again. He quickly found a steady pace and his length stroked all the right places. The heat between your thighs spiraled in your belly and you dug your nails into Spencer's back.

"Spencer, fuck," you breathed and he grinned before pressing his lips to your throat and gently biting your collarbone. Before you knew it, he was sliding his hand between your bodies and rubbing furiously over your clit and it was all getting too much for you.

Your nails raked across his skin and certainly left a few marks on as you climaxed and your vision went black.You spasmed around his cock and felt it twitch inside you. Spencer moaned a mixture of swear words and your name as he coated your walls with his cum, his fingers digging into your hips and probably bruising them.

He placed his lips on yours one last time before carefully pulling out of you and disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. "Careful, love," he says softly, running it along between your legs to wipe your mingled cum. When he touched your sensitive clit, you flinched involuntarily. He returned the washcloth to the bathroom before lying back down with you. He pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. "Can I tell you something?" he breathed, you looked up at him quite exhausted.

"Of course."

He smiled lovingly. "I've fallen head over heels in love with you in the last few days," he confessed and your heart stopped. "The moment you laid your head on my chest in bed. You turned my whole world upside down and I can't imagine spending a single day without you anymore."

"You don't have to," you replied, putting your hand to the back of his head so you could pull him down to you. Gently you placed your lips on his and you felt his cock twitch against your belly. That's how strong your effect on him was. "I love you, Spencer."

In one fluid motion, he rolled onto you and pressed his mouth onto yours. This kiss was like the one in the house, angry, hungry and greedy. His hand slid between your legs and his fingers gently circled your clit. Your legs twitched and he pushed further down so he was eye level with your cunt. Gently he slid two fingers inside you and you moaned loudly. "I love you, Y/N. Don’t you dare forget it, when I make you scream and cum around my tounge.“ He licked long stripe from your entrance to your clit and gently sucking on it. Your body shook under his tounge and touch, as he slipped to fingers into your dripping cunt again. „Are you ready for round two?"

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one hot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #enemies to lovers #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #Jennifer jereau #dave rossi

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iraniq · 4 years ago

Text

All the Time

Fandom: Star Wars

* characters belong to Disney * * Millicent the cat belongs to Pablo Hidalgo *

p.s. i started writin is as a joke, from a fun conversation with my bff/sis, but now is huge, and I am posting this xD

Staring: Me as the main persona + bonus guest star in chapter 2

----------------------------------------------------

chapter 1

Being in an arranged marriage was bad enough already, meaning whatever was left of our royal side was gone long time ago... I was gonna marry a politician to prevent ongoing civil war to turn into a slaughter of my people.

He was middle aged, fat, nasty man... Rotting in his soul... But that was the way! I was doing this for my people. I had accepted my fate... Till that day came...

The big ship in the sky... They reminded me of the Stardestroyers from the past, but weren't. That was the First Order. They had come.

Me, as an owner of the title "princess" only by the respect for my family, had to be there at the first meeting. So was my betrothed. Such an abhorrent creature.

We only saw an elderly man with gray hair, pissed at the world, a younger one walking behind him, obviously displeased with us all, and several white armored ones. Dora, my maid, yelled almost falling to her knees. The Sun Child!

She came from a small moon nearby our planet, where ginger people were considered emissaries of God.

It has been 4 days since we saw them again. The big ship was in the sky, only smaller ones come and go, and most of our politicians were in the big city hall, negotiating.

Tonight our new "friends" were invited to celebrate the Last Summer Day. We celebrated the last days of the summer sun as life giving, now the sun would be an observer, old saying goes, if you wish upon the midday sun and the sunset is orange red, your wish will be granted.

Dora's people came, over floating not as usual for the Sun, but to see the ginger commander. Who wasn't fond of the attention, or the people at all, and after the required toasts left for good.

I tried not to pay much attention to them. Their presence made me uneasy, and quite anxious.

The next day at lunch, my parents were asked to meet with our guests. Dora was way too odd, holding my hand all day, when I finally asked her what's all about she explained.

- You don't know my Lady, yesterday morning the First Order generals were finally getting your planet to sign with them, the politicians and the royals agreed. But last night when drunk your husband...

- He is not my husband! - I protested and got off the couch. Dora cleared her throat and continued.

- He got killed.

- What?

- Yes, what I heard was, that he said something, disrespectful, or offending, and they killed him.

- That's...

- I am so sorry my Lady... - Dora offered me a hug.

- That's amazing! - I yelled. - I don't have to marry that gross old man now! - I clapped my hands, but Dora's face was still sad.

- What is it? What do you know?

- You will instead, marry the General...

I said nothing. Just ran off.

Cried all night, with no luck. My faith has just gotten worse. Married to the nasty politician I was gonna be still home and respected by my people.... There on that ship, where I assume I'd be taken. I would be just a girl, they took, as a bonus to the contract they just made.

Two days later, that I spend trying not to cry, because I had to maintain a happy face for the wedding, as my social status required, my heart was beyond broken. I knew what kind of a person the politician was, was told how to maintain his anger outbursts, knew when to not engage a conversation at all. Even knew what his favorite dish was. Now, this unknown General, might be anyone, and by the looks of him, he will totally be cruel one.

Dora had requested to come with me after I go to the ship. She was 7 years older than me, and was my maid, and a dear friend since I was a child. She refused to leave my side. So at least I'd have her!

The old caste throne room was decorated in silver, and the autumn blooming roses on the walls gave it a magical touch. I could barely see my yet another horrible future husband. Standing there in the distance, too military still, with hands behind his back and with these ridiculous pointy eared hats. I looked away, at my feet, of fear of tears.

When I arrived in front of him, he cleared his throat and through the bridal veil I saw he removed his leather gloves. He had these small gentle hands. The shock I felt, when upon raising my veil, I saw the ginger one standing in front of me. That caught me so off guard I actually smiled. He awkwardly mimicked me, and the wedding began. After the ceremony, we were at the old castle's garden halls to party.

I was too anxious around all people congratulating me, I was happy my already husband wasn't the old grandpa, but I still married a monster.

I excused myself and left in the gardens.

- May I join you? - carrot boy said, I nodded.

We waked in awkward silence for a while, then he spoke.

- I heard you planted most of the flowers here. - I nodded - Unusual for a princess.

- I am a princess only by respect, the last royal was my grandfather. We were still called such in his honor. Also I like gardening.

- They look good.

- Thank you.

- If I may ask, why is half the castle in ruins?

- You missed that info?

- We came to your plant with a work proposal, asking why the caste of the royal family is mostly ruins, didn't seemed as a nice conversation starter.

- True... – I smiled, but hurried to look away, so carrot boy won’t see me – The previous royals, not of our bloodline I'd like to note, were like slave owners, cruel and greedy. There was a civil war, they were killed. Half the population moved several cities south, made parliament and all, here monarchy stayed, and my granddad was a benevolent king. Now we are the face and the parliament rules. The castle is destroyed since back then. I was trying to make it look better with the flowers and all.

- Why is there an ongoing civil war then?

- Well … - I cleared my throat – Our people don’t care about the nature, polute a lot, this affects the South, they tried to reason, but not much happened.

- Now? After you did not marry anyone from the South, what will happen?

- I don’t know … - I looked away, I wasn’t ready to think about that now, I married a monster, and might not even managed to change a thing.

- You plant the ivy roses...

- Yes.

He nodded and that was as much as we spoke. He seemed to be way too prepared on that matter. I am guessing their work proposal involved a history lesson too.

Same night, we slept in the far sides of the huge bed. The only moment he touched me was when we were supposed to kiss, and we did, was so awkward, and when he helped me unbuttoning my dress. The rest of the time his hands were in gloves and he barely touched anything. I imagine the ships must be sterile. Otherwise they all will die of fly in days.

Early next morning my luggage was loaded in one of the shuttles and we left. The ship would be in the orbit of my planet several more hours, but I already missed home.

As I got the rather good surprise, I ain't wifing the old pervert rapist, carrot boy was quite pretty I can't lie, he was also a General and the ship that we would be in, was his to command. Dora was 2 steps behind me, as usual, my faithful shadow. I made her swear to me not to react on him, so she could stay. General Hux, as his name was, didn't want any attention at all. He was perfectionist workaholic, by his attitude towards me, I was guessing he wasn't ask consent about that marriage also. So I might be safe, as career was more important for him, than a family.

As we boarded the big cruiser and the shuttle door barely open I heard him speak over the door asking reports. One big silver solider and 2 white ones started talking one after another. They walked towards somewhere.

Me and Dora were escorted to his room and were noted not to walk around the ship on our own.

One pleasant surprise was that the carrot general had a carrot cat, big and fluffy. Her collar said "Millicent" and I befriended her rather fast. Dora almost fainted when I trashed his room, opening every drawer.

- Who folds their socks?

- My Lady... - she sat at the big leather canapé, and the cat jumped in her lap, asking attention.

- He is my husband now, I ain't doing anything wrong, also I just look... The OCD will smell it if I touch something, anyway. Do you want me to spray me one of his perfumes?

Dora almost fainted, my remark and the knock on the door finished her. My presence was asked. I let her in the room. She was too startled to go. So I was walked by the white armor.

I met my husband in a rather larger corridor. He nodded, so did I. No ridiculous pointy ear hat anymore. That's better. His hair was crazy carrot, slicked back, even his eyebrows were orange and his eyelashes. The light was going through and from a specific angle looked like they were glowing. Now I know why Dora's people adore them so much.

I had seen a ginger person once, I was 10 and wasn't allowed to stay in.

A sudden loud thud was heard, the door on our right opened and a person walked out. A girl. Tall, skinny, long blond hair, wavy at the ends, emerald long green dress and black leather cape...ish thingy. She muttered something angrily and vanished.

After her another person went out. Definitely male, although he had a mask on his face. Large dressed all in black with a cape. General Hux introduced him as Lord Ren.

But who was the girl? Maybe, I wasn't the only one forced into marriage. Maybe, she could be my friend after all!

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@diyunho @lovermrjokerr @darthjokerisyourfather

#star wars #star wars fandom #star wars fanfic #the first order #general hux #armitage hux #millicent the cat #Kylo Ren

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moving-blogs-dm-for-new-one · 4 years ago

Text

T*cc* Toby character and story redesign :D

Toby and his family moved across the states after the accident. They were moving to West Virginia, a more rural town surrounded by forest. He didn't want to be there, but he didn't have much of a choice. Really didn't help his mood when his father basically screamed at his mother for the entire three day trip. He was slumped in the back of the car, ticcing uncontrollably, one hour to go on the drive. He winced when his father yelled at him to shut up, sighing and trying to hold his vocal tics, again. Maybe he could make it until they reached the new house.

They reached the house, and he quietly helped unload the car, gently helping his mom climb out. Sighing, he patched her up quietly later in the bathroom, and let her cry on his shoulder, ticcing quietly.

For the next two and a half weeks of summer, Toby pretty much just laid in bed. He didn't have much energy or will to do anything. He would pull out his computer and play some games, but his father broke hit before their trip even began. He pulled out his old ipod from his 14th birthday, and laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling and looping the same playlist on shuffle endlessly to block out his father. Same old, same old.

When school started, he absolutely did not want to be there. His Tourette's was neigh uncontrollable, and he couldn't help but tic through every day. Of course, the other kids in class were horrible to him about it. He was bullied relentlessly, and was beat up on the first day of school, and many days after that. He went home, his mother patched him up, his father mocked him, and he went to lie in bed again. It went on like this for a few weeks. It was August second when his dad broke his mothers nose. They got into a fight and he slammed her head on the counter. Toby was furious, but he quietly patched her up, ignoring his father egging him on.

That night, he had sleep paralysis again for the first time in a month or two, but it was different this time. His eyes opened, and there was a being standing at the end of his bed. He couldn't tell who or what it is. Could have been his father if it wasn't so tall. They stared at each other for around three hours before Toby fell back asleep. He was afraid, yes. But not much bothered him since Lyra died.

He mourned her every day. He never stopped. His mother mourned in silence, afraid, and his father cursed him to move on, but he didn't. He was never one to pray, but he lit candles for her the way she used to, prayed to a god they'd both loved, Dionysus. He cried for her at night. She never left his mind. He missed his sister more than anything in the world. He had a small alter in the back of his closet so his Father wouldn't find it, candles, pictures of her, foods she loved and special items.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Toby began having hallucinations of the creature he saw. It was everywhere. It was in the reflections of mirrors and windows, across the school yard while he was being kicked, at the end of the street when he pulled down his blinds, and behind his eyelids every night when he tried to sleep. He couldn't understand why it was haunting him.

His mother noticed his extreme paranoia, depression, and unrelenting tics/tic attacks, and scheduled him for a meeting with a local psychiatrist. She talked him up for the whole drive, and he smiled and nodded, not wanting to be there but not wanting to further sadden or worry his mother. Her arm was in a sling today. It was bad enough she was driving him.

He met with the psych, sitting down in the office. She asked him how he'd been. He didn't know how to respond, but suddenly felt bitter.

"Fantastic. Obviously that's why mom brought me here."

"I'm sorry, Tobias. I thought I'd let you give your own input." He felt bad for a moment, before wincing at the usage of his full name, getting more frustrated. He hated this already.

"Don't call me that. It's Toby. I'm Toby." He was fighting his vocal tics as he spoke, but his physical tics were getting worse in response, and he saw her flinch and lean a bit further away in his chair. He felt a pang through his heart, immediately angry. But he wouldn't blow up. He wasn't him.

Then he saw the figure behind her.

He didn't even hear what she was saying. He just stared at it. For some reason for as much as he'd been seeing it, he'd never seen it in such clarity, and it was still fuzzing around the edges, almost as if it wasn't fully there. It towered over the back of her chair, slowly leaning down to him.

"Toby," It spoke, and he could barely comprehend its voice. It was garbled, layered, echoed over itself endlessly and buzzed and burned inside his ears. "I want to help you. Let me help you."

He screamed, grabbing a lamp off the side table next to him and whipping it at the creature. He heard the psych scream and froze, whipping his gaze to where she was holding her arms over her face, ceramic and glass sprawled on the floor behind her at the base of the wall. They made eye contact, and he felt sick. He didn't understand. He wanted to say sorry. He suddenly wanted to explain everything. He wanted to say he wasn't him. He wanted his mother. He wanted Lyra.

He passed out.

Toby awoke later in his room, still feeling sick. The lights were out, his room only illuminated by the moonlight casting in through the blinds and the yellow light seeping in from under his doorway. (tw heavy abuse and murder after this) He could hear his parents screaming downstairs. There was a smash, his mother was crying. He jolted upright, tics coming back harshly as he tried to quietly make his way to the top of the stairs, peering down. His father was screaming about him.

"We have to get rid of him, Evelyn," He screamed, furious. "He's a disaster. He's dangerous and annoying and he's a fucking nuisance anyways!! And now I owe that stupid fucking psychiatrist so much goddamn money!! What is wrong with you!!" His mother cowered away from him, shaking, but angry as well.

"We are NOT getting rid of our SON, Greg! He's just scared and sick!" Toby winced at the phrasing of "sick", but continued watching, listening. He felt static pulling at the edges of his vision, but ignored it, honing his eyes in on his father.

"He goes. Tonight, or tomorrow, your choice, Evelyn, but he's fucking going. He's young enough to get thrown at the orphanage." He took a large swig of beer, stumbling slightly, and Toby twitched, hands tightening so much on the railing bars he thought he might splinter them.

"No. He is not." His mother shook, standing up to him, fists clenched. He stopped, and both Toby and his mother held their breath.

"Excuse me?"

"He's not going. No."

The next few minutes were a blur. His mother was hurt, and hurt bad. She was crying, and his father was screaming at her. The living room was trashed. Toby ran down the stairs and his father heard, spinning around and screaming after him as he darted into the garage, heart thumping almost as loud as Greg's thundering footsteps. He found his fathers old hatchets in the back of the garage, his blood pumping in his ears. Everything was hazy and the static crept further into his vision.

"Let me help you."

He spun around, hatchets gripped tight in his hands as he shook and ticced. His father tore into the room, drunk and furious. He saw Toby bearing the hatchets and laughed deliriously.

"Now what are you gonna do with those, boy?" Toby almost blacked out at the name, screaming and sprinting forwards. A mass fight ensued, the two of them struggling against each other to gain headway, Toby's mother screaming in the background. Toby pinned him down. He spat curses and slurs and all kinds of horrible things about him, his mother, his sister, Lyra. He raised the hatchet, and brought it down on his skull. Blood sprayed and his mother distantly screamed in horror, but he didn't stop. Another swing, another, another, another, another. Tears poured down his face, but he didn't feel it, notice, or care. His arms stopped swinging. He looked up. His mother was holding his arms gently, but securely, the creature standing behind her, looming over the both of them. He was towering.

"Toby," She whispered. "That's enough. He's dead, love." He looked down, sniffling and ticcing, and he was.

She helped him up quietly, and he whimpered.

"Are you gonna turn me in?" She stared at him, then shook her head.

"You're my son. I'm not getting rid of you."

She cleaned him up quietly in the bathroom, and held him close as he cried, openly, for the first time in months. He clung to her, whimpering and ticcing and sobbing, and told her everything. She listened quietly, gently soothing him and brushing his hair. Eventually, she shushed him gently, making him look at her.

"We have to go, love. Quickly. You can tell me more once we're gone, okay?" He nodded, sniffling and taking her hand. They gathered their things, climbed into their car. She paused. Got back out. They lit the house together, and watched it burn for a moment. He felt the presence behind him, and saw his mother take his hand.

"Come on honey," She whispered. "Lets go."

They never looked back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toby: (notes)

- 6'3", 17 years old, tall and broad. Always been heavier set and naturally slightly chubby, and decently strong.

- Has a nerve issue from birth where he can't feel a good 70% of his body, mostly the upper half and patches of the lower.

- Nonbinary (He/they/it), and pansexual. Gender dysphoric. Occasionally tucks and wears bras and other things sometimes.

- Has Tourette's, OCD, BPD, PTSD, Manic, ADHD, depression, s/icidal tendencies, struggles with compulsive sh, and has mild paranoid schizophrenia.

- Sees the Slenderman more than his mother, but she can see it on occasion. It doesn't hurt them. Guides them more or less. Helps Toby target similar individuals to his father.

- Stims a lot by cracking his knuckles, flapping his hands, tapping his foot and cracking his neck. (I also have a list of his tics!!)

- Loves his mother and Lyra so goddamn much

Evelyn: (notes)

- 43 years old, 5'2", small but definitely not frail. Will fuck you up if needed. Doesn't take shit anymore after leaving her husband. Also bisexual queen

- Huge soft spot for kids, and Toby. Loves Toby so much and lets him basically get away with everything (not that he uses this for any harm to her or those who don't deserve it)

- Knows Toby is a serial killer, assists him with some cleanup/travel/medical care/etc. Reminds him to take care of himself/cooks for him/helps drive him around/etc

- Takes up cooking and martial arts as hobbies

- Loves her son so so so much he's so stupid and crazy but she adores him and would do anything for him

- Do NOT fuck with power duo Evelyn and Tobias Rodgers they WILL destroy you

#creepypasta #cp ticci toby #ticci toby #toby rogers #tobias rogers #evelyn rodgers #cp toby #my writing #my universe #cloud talks #tw blood #tw abuse #tw abuse ment #tw murder

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letterboxd · 4 years ago

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How I Letterboxd #10: Chad Hartigan.

Filmmaker Chad Hartigan talks to Jack Moulton about his prescient new sci-fi romance, Little Fish, why radio silence is worse than a bad review, and his secret system of Letterboxd lists.

Chad Hartigan has won prizes at the Sundance Film Festival and the Film Independent Spirit Awards for his acclaimed films This is Martin Donner and Morris From America. He’s also been a Letterboxd member since way back, joining what he proclaims as “my favorite website” in 2013. Hartigan has always been an obsessive logger: he has transcribed all of his viewing data since 1998 and continues to work on filling in the gaps in his downtime.

Like many ardent Letterboxd members, Hartigan is a diligent list-maker, keeping tabs on his best first viewings of each year and assembling an all-time top 1,000 films over the summer (with an accompanying 26-minute supercut). Perhaps unusually for a member of the film industry on Letterboxd, he’s unafraid to hold back his opinions and regularly voices his critiques on even the most acclaimed films.

Hartigan’s newest film, Little Fish, is a sci-fi love story starring Olivia Cooke (Sound of Metal) and Jack O’Connell (Unbroken). Written by Mattson Tomlin, it’s set during an imagined pandemic—shot long before our own actual pandemic—wherein a disease causes people to lose their memories. It was set to premiere at the 2020 Tribeca Film Festival, and then postponed due to Covid-19. It’s now out in limited theaters and on demand, and we were delighted with the excuse to put Hartigan in the How I Letterboxd spotlight.

Olivia Cooke as Emma and Jack O’Connell as Jude in ‘Little Fish’.

You made a pandemic movie before the pandemic. How do you feel about accidentally hitting that unfortunate zeitgeist and now consequently being asked questions like this one? Yeah, strange. The questions are fine. If it wasn’t this one, it would be another that you would have to answer over and over again. One of the things that drew me to the project was that it felt like a fantasy that wasn’t necessarily rooted in reality in a way that my other [films] were. I liked that it’s old-fashioned in its attempts to purely take you somewhere and wasn’t intended to hold up a mirror to our times—but then in the end that’s exactly what it’s doing. I’m curious myself, and I’m checking Letterboxd to see the reactions from people because I really couldn’t guess what it would have been like [now].

Are there any prescient details you’re proud of getting right? I’m so grateful and happy that Jack [O’Connell] is wearing his mask correctly. That’s the number one thing that I’m glad we got right. I think it was very smart of Mattson to focus the movie on [the relationship] rather than the details of this global pandemic. I feel the reason it’s not in bad taste is because it dealt with those things as a backdrop and instead focused on people just trying to remember what’s important and clinging onto those that they love.

Onto our own favorite memory aid, Letterboxd. How did you discover us and how did you manage without us? I’ve been on since 2013, so I’m probably one of the earliest people to jump on it. I love the interface and the diary, just aesthetically it was really fun. I’ve been keeping track of what I see with analog [methods] for as long as I can remember. I have diaries and planners so I logged all that old information. If I was running for president, my platform would be that everybody is required to use Letterboxd comprehensively, because I just love to know what everybody is watching all the time.

Do you talk about Letterboxd in the real world with the other filmmaking people? Yes, and I’m often trying to convince them to join. Other filmmakers are more concerned about having their opinions on peers be public knowledge than I am, I guess. I’ve made four films now and each one’s been bigger and more widely seen than the last. The very first one was a total no-budget affair that couldn’t get into any festivals and I was very excited when I finally got it into the Hamptons Film Festival. It was about half-full and one or two people came up to me afterwards and said they liked it. This was pre-Twitter so I spent the whole next day Googling to see if anybody had written anything. I was so curious to see what people thought and there was nothing—not a review, not a blog—just total emptiness.

When the next film got into Sundance, there were people tweeting their reactions and actual reviews and I read everything. People were asking if the bad reviews hurt me. Absolutely not—nothing can be worse than the radio silence of nobody caring about the first film. The fact that people care enough to sit and write about this movie—good or bad—is a win, and I’ve carried that onward. I like to see what people think, it can be helpful in how you view the film as a success or failure. You learn and move on.

Jack O’Connell at least remembers how to wear a mask in ‘Little Fish’.

Some filmmakers have told us they’re kinder to films after making their own, but you’re not shy at all about being critical. How did making your own films change your perspective as a critic? I don’t consider myself a critic so that’s why I’d be less concerned with someone reading what I thought. Why should they put any stock into what I think? If they get hung up on it then that’s their own stuff because I’m not a critic. Like everyone else on Letterboxd, I just love watching movies. Obviously I can appreciate and understand some of the technical aspects maybe moreso than people who don’t make films, but at the end of the day, rarely that’s the thing that makes you love a movie or not. There’s a great bit in Francis Ford Coppola’s commentary track for Finian’s Rainbow where Fred Astaire’s doing a dance number and [Coppola admits] he totally messed it up because Astaire’s feet aren’t fully in frame. He’s very honest about his mistakes because it’s one of his earliest movies. Then he goes on to say that he thinks there’s the same number of mistakes in Finian’s Rainbow as there are in The Godfather, it’s just that he made mistakes on the things that don’t matter for The Godfather. No film is perfect, but if it can latch onto this one magical aspect that connects you to it, that’s what makes you love it or not.

You had a project where you chart the best films made by directors at certain ages as you reached that age. Tell us more about it. That was a great project. I got the idea when I was 26. This was back when I had a Netflix DVD subscription and it was just hard for me to randomly choose DVDs to throw in the queue. I needed a system. I decided to watch movies from directors when they were my age and see if there’s some common denominator, something I can learn. At that point, there weren’t many, there were films like Boogie Nights and Fassbinder films. Not many people had made stuff when they were 26 or 27, so it was very feasible. Every year there were more movies and more directors to add to the list and it became time-consuming. I did it all the way up until I was 34 and the reason I stopped was because I had a son and there was no way I could continue this level of viewing output.

My favorite part of your account is the fact that you log every viewing of your own films. You know for a fact that you’ve watched Morris From America 26 times and Little Fish fifteen times. Why do you log them? What counts as a viewing? I’ve clearly watched those movies many more times in little chunks but I’ll only log it if we’re sitting down and watching it from beginning to end. I have a ticket to see Little Fish in the drive-in on Saturday, so it’s going to be logged again. Why do I do it? Like I said, I wish everyone was required to use Letterboxd comprehensively. That’s what it’s there for for me, an accurate log of what I watch. This is psychotic behavior but I’m tempted to have a Letterboxd account for my son. I’ll do his views for him once he starts watching movies until he’s old enough to take over. It’ll just be, like, Frozen a thousand times but he’s not old enough to watch anything yet, so we’ll see.

Have you discovered any films thanks to Letterboxd discourse that influenced your approach to filmmaking? For sure, I can’t maybe say specifically, but once I dropped the directors my own age system I didn’t replace it with nothing. I’m a Virgo and I have a little bit of OCD, so I have to have some system. I’ve replaced it with a new complicated system where I pull from different lists and that’s now my main source of how I choose a movie to watch. I have like ten or twelve different lists, each about a thousand movies with a lot of overlap. One of them is my own list of every movie I’ve seen in a theater and I’ll go and look through that and if it’s something I want to revisit. Recently I rewatched Twister, which I hadn’t seen in a long time and is an old favorite from when I was in high school.

I have a bunch of private lists I cycle through; every movie nominated for a Spirit Award, every movie that’s won an Oscar, every movie that’s played in competition at Cannes, the top 1,000 films at the box office. There’s another great website that I use as a biblical resource which is They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They? and their lists of acclaimed films for all-time and the 21st century. I hit those up often. Something that I watched purely because of the very high Letterboxd rating and really loved is Funeral Parade of Roses. I try to see as many movies as I can that have a 4.0 rating or higher.

You respect the Letterboxd consensus. I do, but I don’t always agree with it.

‘Little Fish’ director Chad Hartigan.

Which is your most underrated or overlooked movie according to Letterboxd? I can say I was the very first person to log a movie called Witness in the City, which is an Italian noir movie I watched when I was doing my ‘directors my own age’ series. Literally nobody had logged it, so my review was like “whoa, I can’t believe I’m the first person to log this!”. It was very exciting for me because it’s great, but I’m the OG logger of that movie.

From your list of every film you’ve seen in a theater since you were twelve, which was your most memorable experience? The cheap answer is that it’s hard to top my own movies. The Sundance premiere of Morris From America at the Eccles Theater is maybe the best, but if I’m disqualifying my own films, seeing Scream 3 in a very packed theater in Virginia Beach was really fun, really rowdy. There was a trailer for a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie and I remember the climax was Van Damme going “you lied to me!!!” and everyone laughed. Someone did a George Costanza move later during Scream 3 and yelled out “you lied to me!!!” and everybody laughed again—so that’s a high. That’s the thing I miss the most about movie theaters, and the worry I have if theaters go away, is that so much of how we feel about a movie can be tied to the experience; who we saw it with, what we did before or after, what the crowd was like, or if anything strange happened. There are a lot of movies I have strong memories and affection for because of the experience of seeing them and I probably wouldn’t feel the same way about if I just watched it at home on my laptop.

I typically like to cap interviews off with what filmmakers thought was the best film of the past year, but we have your data to hand. For you, it’s Garrett Bradley’s documentary Time. Can you talk a bit about what makes the film stand out for you? One thing I learned about myself from the pandemic is that the motivation and desire to see new things is very closely tied to the theater-going experience for me. Once that was taken away and you could watch a new movie at home, it joins the pile of all the other movies. The fact that it’s new doesn’t really do anything for me. Why would I press play on Da 5 Bloods when I still haven’t seen Malcolm X? I gotta see Malcolm X! There wasn’t an urgency, so I saw far fewer films than in an ordinary year. But Time I found incredibly moving and important. Similar to what I liked about the Little Fish script, it’s so hyper-focused on one relationship and within that one story it has so much to say about larger issues and the world at large. It was an emotional and rich viewing experience.

‘Little Fish’ is on demand and playing in select theaters now. Images courtesy of IFC Films.

#little fish #chad hartigan #life in film #film director #letterboxd #how i letterboxd #letterboxd member #letterboxd tips #olivia cook #jack o'connell #romance #romantic film #sci fi romance #pandemic movie #covid movie

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alicezan-ncgred · 6 years ago

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Bleeding Red

Preface: I’ve been bitching around the bush of this long enough. So, I’ve been really silent on a bunch of stuff that’s been eating me alive which has made me both inactive and unproductive. I’m going to get straight to the point, starting off with the TL:DR from my post on my main blog. Context: An anon asked me if I was alright because I hadn’t updated in a while.

TL:DR You probably didn’t ask this to hear about all the bad shit of my life so here’s the short of it. No, I’m not doing fine. I will try get next weeks post out on time and I’ll work on making up on the lost posts. Updates will return regularly, ‘ite.

Time for the thick and thin of it.

Insecurity and being shafted: I’m stoic, even at my worst I won’t say anything. I’ll push through regardless of my current condition and since I’ve gone years like this, it’s not hard for me to do. In my real life situation, I’m currently in a place of social isolation. This has lead to a somewhat near reliance on Tumblr to be my social outlet. This present many issues.

The main one is that I’m quite the isolationist. This has only been reinforced by many interactions throughout the entirely of my life. Because of this, I can’t say I’ve ever had anything really more than two friends at a time. While in a way this has helped me express myself so well through writing, it’s come at the cost of social skill. I don’t talk to anyone.

With this kind of issue you could easily imagine that the THREE PEOPLE (four now, but very limited) to ever directly talk ended up in a way shafting me. The first blocked and disconnected with me without warning or reason. At this point we’ve been talking to each for about a month and we hit it off very well and then one day, silence. Never heard from them again. That fucked me up hard when I finally realized what happened.

The second person left during the Tumblr P**n Purge. We were talking about how to contact each other on other platforms and then they stopped responding. I had already given contact to other platforms of which they pinged me in any way. Another person that I trusted massively on here just abandoned me and I’m still hurting from that. Wasn’t fair at all.

Then the third person was someone that I been following for a while. This person is actually the reason that I’ve been putting this off for so long. I don’t want them to see this post but they will. I got an ask from them that ultimately turned out to be misinformation. I said I wasn’t mad but I was. I was so fucking angry about it and I’m still kinda mad, but I didn’t want problems. I still don’t. I just didn’t want them to worry about it. This will come back later.

I try my best to be as inoffensive as possible. The problem with that is that much of the things I believe or enjoy are highly divisive. Hell, even my own identity can be seen as offence. I’m bisexual, non-binary (I’m currently still questioning this. I might actually be gender fluid but in the overall scheme, that’s worse than being non-binary), and nonreligious. I’m in a very religious area so you I’m still “in the closet” about much of this IRL. I though it would better online but with how much people are saying bisexuality doesn’t exist, or that non-binary isn’t a valid gender (or that being gender fluid make you insane and you should be locked up) and all the hate people who say they are this are getting, the very community that’s supposed to accept me, HATES me. I had a bi pride flag icon last year during Pride Month. I never doing that ever again. It was terrible.

I’m trying my best to come out of my shell like I said I would when I made this blog but it seems I’m just crawling further into it. People I think I can trust keep setting me up to fall, people I know in real life won’t ever accept my existence if they knew who I really was, and my own mental health problem and self loathing are eating me alive. But that isn’t the total of it.

Crumbling Pillar: I’ve always ended up in the position where things were thrown onto me. In which no one wanted to do, I was stuck with. Because of this not only do I have a severe distaste being around my family (beyond everything mentioned before hand) but I grew to have a negative out look on everything. This effect is still quite obvious in my writings, especially my poems. Out of the 14 poems on my poem blog @washed-soul, only one has a happy meaning.

The one happy poem was called dreams. Under a metaphor it talks about how a demon kept me trapped in a dark space. I start to get better and nearly break free before I have a negative relapse back to my old ways. The poems ends with the demon putting a end to itself leaving the nightmare in which it was keeping me in to slowly fade away, letting one crack of light peeking through to become a window to a door until one day I walk free. When writing this poem, I never thought I would find myself rebuilding the nightmare but that’s where I am.

I’m done with holding things together that other people have placed onto me. Because of this, issues have began showing in my private life. Issues that should’ve been solved decades ago are only now being addressed. This change in the status quo of my life has caused many issues in my productive and mood. Between everything else I’m too tired to do anything.

Is that a reason, is that an excuse. No it isn’t but it’s the best thing I got as a reason. I’m doing my damnedest to do the best I can but of course, when it comes to the thing that matter I just fall short. Big fucking whopha my intelligence and capability does me if I can’t use it for anything that means a damn.

Meaningless Triviality: I’m a very emotional person. I’m very strongly bound to my emotions and if everything above hasn’t given it away, my emotions are very negative prone. But it just doesn’t stop there, it goes back into my memories. I can only honestly place 3 happy memories for certain that aren’t either A) a dream or B) me escaping reality through my mind. Besides that, almost all my memories are negative.

People like to throw around the word Nihilist to describe themselves because today's culture is very, god while I hate to use this word, edgy. For those who don’t know a Nihilist is someone who views the world as being completely meaningless and reject all religious and moral principles. I very truly struggle with this outlook of life. It’s a daily for me to berate myself saying “just kill yourself” or “I want to die” or just shutting down and crumpling up while say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again. Hell, I did that while writing this.

I take things very hard, even the slightest transgression. I’m so used to trying to make things perfect and because people have the image that I’m the smart one, the mature one, the capable one, I’m left with the over hanging expectation of excellence. Almost no room for margin of error or being human. Since I’m the silent type, I put up no challenge and work to meet it. Only time I get any praise for anything too.

I guess as a little self promotion to my main blog, for those that have read the very first few updates of my main blog @the-truth-behind-redacted, or read Defiance’s character sheet, while The Machine and Defiance are separate character, they both share the name Machine. That in part is a reflect of said above expectation. How ravenous and inhuman it can be all under the guise of something human. Those characters are the two sides to the same coin.

Remember how I said I try to be un-problematical and how I try to avoid any potential conflict. In the first segment I told on how I lied about my feelings just so another person didn’t have to worry over something that honestly, in hindsight, wasn’t even really a big deal. But I also said how it consumed me in anger. I just don’t want to bother anyone over anything. It’s part of the reason why I am writing this post, as some way of a self enforced rehab program to get better.

This absolute consumption of negative emotion has pushed me into a non human state before. I hit a point of absolute mental exhaustion and in such a self enforced bubble of actual hatred I became completely apathetic. I felt numb to everything. I watched and heard of terrible things happening to people, and felt nothing. I watched people lives crumble before them leaving them nowhere to go and LAUGHED. “Just another worthless pathetic worm on this rotting carcass of a planet being hit with the hard reality that life doesn’t care for them. What whimsical pathetic bullshit they deluded themselves with to think otherwise.” This isn’t an exaggeration on how I thought, this is what I actually thought. Which brings me too.

The Mandatory Sob Story: Roll your eyes everyone and get the tiny violin. I guess in order for everyone to exactly understand the place I’m coming from when it comes to mental health I’ll have to detail my experiences. I have a long standing history with mental illness. I have professionally diagnosed OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, and visual and auditory hallucinations. I take 600 mg of Seroquel a day as well as Amitriptyline when needed. I’m also still currently in therapy to deal with said OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, the visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as Suicidal thoughts, and my Nihilism. There’s a reason to why I’m so god damn familiar with mental illness and treatment plans.

OCD and Bipolarism run in my family on my fathers side. My Father’s Father had them, my Sister has them, my brother most likely has them (however he refuses to see a doctor because he uses said possible mental illnesses as a get out of jail free card. He doesn’t want to be treated and he has FUCKING ADMITTED IT), my father has them, and I have them. I, however, have the misfortune of having it real bad. I said yes to well over half of all the total symptoms when I was being tested (I don’t remember exact numbers but I remember there being three pages worth of common symptoms) which was very worrying to the doctor. I was currently in an inpatient hospitalization program at the time for both suicidal thoughts and actions, and severe depression.

On that, my graze in with suicide. Before I went into my first inpatient program I was contemplating suicide. I was sat in front of a mirror with a bottle of over the counter medication. It was an unopened bottle of ibuprofen, 1000 200mg tables. What I planed to do was down the whole bottle with benadryl and die in my sleep. I had the small box of benadryl got from the Kroger pharmacy and a hand full of ibuprofen poured out looking directly into the mirror. My suicide note was sitting on the desk on my room with an online copy on my laptop open.

I sat there for an hour in the dead of midnight complicating my life. I had lost all hope in the world, filled with hatred, anger, pain, and despair. I had no god or after life to look forward too, part way hoping that a Hell existed for me to burn in. I hated myself that much. I was close to taking the first handful before before I caught a glimpse of my own eyes in the mirror. In what was in a weird sudden epiphany I realized that I truly did become what I hated but not for any reason I told myself. I became the very bastion of negativity I sought to fight and rid of in what little friends I did have. That was what set off my path to recovery in spite of the medical system. I guess if people care I’ll make a separate post on that.

Before I move on, I feel I should explain my history with the visual and auditory hallucinations. It should be no surprise that with everything else above, I also had extreme paranoia that led to me having very bad insomnia. Insomnia is, just like most other medical disorders like Depression, Self-harm, Anxiety, OCD, Bipolarism, is romanticized to hell. Insomnia isn’t having one nights bad sleep where you got 5 hours of sleep instead of 8.

You know what Insomnia is? insomnia is being physical incapable of sleeping despite not sleeping in 2 to 3 day while your body suffers massive agony brought on by this. Muscle spasms and seizing, difficulty breathing, your eyes feeling like fire ants are eating them, and of course visual and auditory hallucinations. Now I already had issues with visual and auditory hallucinations even when I could get sleep regularly but the combined effects of my OCD and Bipolarism made this perfect condition of Insomnia, Anxiety, Paranoia, with the already added in disposition to hallucinations and I felt like I was actually losing my mind.

My hallucinations presented themselves in three forms. Disassociation of reality, night terrors, or alterations of reality. Disassociation of reality often were complete black out moments. I would lose any perceived connect to reality and enter an episode of my mind. I can’t remember what they actually were but I do remember what it felt like. Cold sweats, anxiety to point where if I didn’t lock up I would vomit, actual physical pain, mind numbing fear, and intense fatigue.

The second were night terrors often in the form of horrific “things.” I do remember these and most of them were as best as I could describe, forms of things that were vaguely human and formations of industrial machinery. The most vivid one I remember was of a long lengthy apparition that was for the most part human but many locations of it’s impossible physiology were rebar beams and mechanical sockets. It began when I was about to fall asleep and it was next to my window. The thing was making week groaning and gasping sounds before it violently slammed against my window breaking it then letting out a horrific howl that I can’t describe as it tossed itself out followed shorty after with the sound of bones breaking against the dirt.

Now that might not seem so bad, exspecally with everything that is in horror movies or games now, but keep in mind that was fucking real to me. It was as real as the clicking of the keys of my keyboard as I’m writing this. As real as the chair I’m sitting in and as real as the wall in front of me. As far as my mind was concerned that thing, what ever it was, actually existed. It took me physical touching my window to make sure it wasn’t actually broken and checking outside to see if there wasn’t a body there. This isn’t the type of thing I talk about lightly.

Finally there is the alteration of reality. This is very simply but it’s something that fucked with me hard. For very little meaning or warning, I would have trouble interpreting the world around me. My hearing and sight would be warped and there wasn’t any real way to tell what I was hearing or seeing was real or not until the episode was over. The way I got through these was the ultimate fake it till you make it. Obviously, very often I failed and this created issue in my schooling.

Ending Message: I’ve been in a very bad state for a while now and as it is now, no signs of getting better. I also strongly believe my medications are being to fail me which I’ve been telling my doctor and therapist for over a year now but nothing’s been done. Mainly it’s my Depression but insomnia episodes are beginning and my own paranoia been on the rise. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even look at a creepy image or thumbnail without having a very bad episode.

I’ve managed to eat something today which was nice but my body is cramping hard. And to possible stave of a possible comment, I’m biologically male. Like I said I’m not in the best head space, or living for that matter. If this gets better, only time will tell.

#Long post #tw: suicide #TW: Depression #Trigger Warning #TW #OCD #Anxiety #Chronic Depression #Bipolar Disorder #Bipolar #Mental Health #My mental health

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adventurousrecovery · 6 years ago

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I Take The Fall

I have been hesitant to write this post for I feel he doesn’t deserve the time, I am wasting my time, and I don’t want to reflect on this bullshit. Unfortunately, it has been biting at me until I do as all things do that demand some sort of self-expression so that I may let them go.

A few weeks ago, my then boyfriend called while I was at counseling to express some sort of “concern”. “Concerns” were things that he was worried about and managed to overthink making whatever it was a bigger issue than it should have been or making an issue out of something I had never considered could be. During that conversation he expressed the possibility of breaking up and that maybe it should happen. By the end of the conversation, he convinced himself that we were to move forward with our relationship and looked forward to our trip to Indy the next day.

On the way to Indy, he finds the opportunity to express his “concern”. “During our conversation yesterday, you were hesitant in your responses to my questions and I find that concerning.” I explained to him that I was processing the information and what I was to say. I am uncertain of what turned the conversation, but again, he threw out the “maybe we should break up” card. This card had been played numerous times during our relationship and had emotionally taken its toll. Emotional uncertainty that contributed to my mental instability. Anytime things got bad, that was his move. Anytime I had a huge assignment to be due that consumed a great deal of time, he expressed "concern" followed by the "maybe we should breakup" card. Most of the time i did well to give him the time he demanded and my well-being and academics suffered.

I am not a fighter and I do not like conflict. I will not crawl on my hands and knees and beg that a relationship continue. Instead, I took the worm. “Okay.” I cried. I knew it was what I had to do because I could not continue with the emotional abuse. I cared which made it more difficult. By the time we had arrived at my OCD Specialist’s office, it was decided that the relationship was over, items would be exchanged, and he would spend the next hour overthinking my being quick to agree. I shared with my specialist what had just occurred. I was angry that I paid out of pocket, $175, to not focus on my OCD, but to discuss something unrelated and be in a situation with him that could have been handled elsewhere. Again, he wasted my time and resources. When I walked out he held the door open, but when we got in the car his whole demeanor changed. He became verbally aggressive. “So this confirms what I thought, that you have been dragging me around this whole time!.” Silence. He was so angry. He kept fidgeting in his seat which was something he only did when he was upset, but this time it was excessive. I braced myself. I waited. My body tense. I decided that should he lay a hand on me I would open the door and jump out or completely lose my shit, attack him, and grab the steering wheel in hopes of a wreck with the arrival of authorities. He didn’t touch me. Instead, he remained verbally aggressive. “Do we share any friends?”

“Um....no?”

“How about Jessica? I can give her your stuff and she can get it to you.” He didn’t even know her and it was extremely immature to bring someone into the situation who was never involved. I remained silent as he drove reckless through Indy. He brought up my sexuality and how I had attempted to explain it to him at the beginning of our relationship, "Maybe I should get in a car wreck so you might feel a deep emotional connection!" WTF. Wow. He was no different than my school and how they had treated me. Silence. “I know you’re not gonna talk.” Of course not, I was terrified. I also knew that my words did not matter for he had convinced himself of what he wanted to be the truth and I was not going to waste my time convincing him otherwise as I had done numerous times before. He tried to find control elsewhere.

“I think I am going to sell the Journey tickets.”

“Okay.”

“Try to get my money back.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t the first time in my life someone had taken something that I loved and attempt to evoke a response so that they feel they have some sort of control. Thanks, mom and dad. He eventually shut up as my words were little to none. He was looking for a response to gain control and I was not going to give it. I didn’t know what to do so I prayed. I thanked God for this opportunity and what I had learned. I cried the whole way home. Halfway the silence was broken and we attempted to discuss things. I don’t remember the conversation, but I do remember he believed miscommunication to be the fault of everything. I told him I had been communicating. I called him numerous times a day. I told him what I was doing. I told him who I talked to. I told him everything in an attempt to make him feel better and because i thought it was my duty as a partner to be honest. Apparently, that wasn’t enough and I could not give anymore. By the time we arrived at my apartment he was convinced that we should give our relationship another chance. For two more hours we talked. We went to DD and I did not order anything for fear he might think I was using him or had been the whole time. I expressed that I would like to give the relationship another chance, but history was repeating itself. It was a cycle. He brings up a “concern”, I respond, we both discuss changes, only one of us works on them, and then it happens again. Nothing changes if nothing changes. I told him if we were to continue that I would have to see specific changes. He listened, but I knew better. He would fake it and the cycle would continue. I was also scared that if this was how he responded now, I did not want to postpone the inevitable and experience something worse. I eventually got out of his car and walked away. I had cried the whole damn day. My body was hurting from being tense.

During the length of our relationship I made some changes per his request and my thinking it was necessary. 1) I had changed my wardrobe when around others because he would ask, “You’re not going to wear that, are you?” I thought he was right and I should consider the appropriateness of what I wear in consideration of modesty and respect towards him. I hated it. 2) I told him everything I did in an attempt to bring him comfort and avoid "concern" but that backfired. He later expressed I was being too honest as I told him of men who made moves as I walked my dog andmen I found attractive so that he would hold me accountable. I would never act out, but I felt honesty was important in a healthy relationship. He asked I not tell him specific things. I told him I was not comfortable with his request of my being dishonest as it was a behavior that got me into a lot of trouble when I was actively using. If I were to start being dishonest, other old behaviors would surely follow and I would find myself "as sick as my secrets." 3) He did not actively pursue me. I was finally learning how to surprise him and bring in exciting elements which is something I greatly enjoy. It also contributed to my stress because I had to get creative in my approach as to tiptoe around his fears and insecurities. He had slowly stopped pursuing me and the effort was all mine. I made suggestions of things he could do and he accepted the ideas, but never took action. 4) I dove deeper into my faith so that I may seek direction as to how myself and our relationship could grow. We bought a devotional and downloaded the Bible app. These were things he agreed to and wanted, but again, he never followed through. 5) I disconnected from others. When it was over, I found myself sitting in my kitchen crying and not knowing who to call. I had removed myself from my support groups and isolated from those close to me to give him the time he so desperately demanded. It didn't matter for he would never see my effort because the things I valued were not what he valued. 6) I stopped standing up for myself. He expressed "concerns" that would result in 6-hour discussions with no change or outcome. He was simply seeking my time, even if it was something negative, because it put attention on him. I simply agreed, said what I knew he wanted to hear, and followed through with the necessary action. It killed me. 7) I lost almost 20 lbs. due to stress surrounding the relationship, work, and school. 8) I lost my sanity because of it. The stress got the best of me and I engaged in self-destructive behavior. I became someone I didn’t want to be and had worked so hard not to. I wasn’t so far gone to have lost myself. I recognized my downfall before it was too late.

I will not fail to mention my part in the relationship. I expected too much. I assume that my capabilities to handle my extensive personal difficulties means that others may do the same. I feel my life is quite chaotic and stressful and most things in comparison are little. If I am able to handle the load I have been given and remain functioning than I expect others to handle their shit and then some. The thing is my shit is completely different. Often he would tell me, “You don’t see how busy I am. I am a single dad and I do it all.” Congrats. I was not impressed. In fact, I felt he did very little and was minimally involved with his son. Physical activity was not a strength. He was predictable, structured, and boring. Surprises “weren’t his thing.”

I was more upset with myself for having allowed everything to happen. Yes, I have been in an abusive relationship before and previously worked at a domestic violence shelter. I knew the signs. The things is, abuse is exhibited differently from person to person. I didn’t think it was abuse because it did not look like that of my previous relationship. It was more subtle. I made up excuses. I tolerated the harsh words, irrational thinking, and odd behavior. I internalized it all, blaming myself. However, I came to realize the pattern. 1) Life is great. 2) Obstacle 3) “Concerns” expressed 4) Tension 5) Seek resolution 6) Agree to make change 7) Apply temporary effort 8) Life is great. I knew that nothing changed if nothing changed and it wasn’t going to. I took his offer and I should have done so sooner.

I was saddened by the fact that I recognized he was a good person who handled things inappropriately. I encouraged him to take the time to pursue himself and that whatever time he needs to let me know. I would not die. I had tons of work to do and could keep myself busy. I don’t think it was ever taken as an opportunity for growth, but an attempt at me changing him. I knew I could not do that nor was it my job. He viewed it as me creating distance and becoming independent when in fact, I had always been independent.

I also had to be realistic and consider the progress of our relationship. 8 months had passed and I was only comfortable with hugging, nothing more. As much as I wanted to progress further, I had to ensure my personal safety and readiness. To advance further without being ready would have backfired and been upsetting if there was no emotional attachment. I didn’t feel an emotional attachment when hugging. Everything was awkward. Attempting to force something that wasn’t there would only do damage. He had expressed not knowing when and if it was okay to hold my hand. I found him attractive in moments he was assertive. 8 months and little progress. Yes, our relationship was different from others and cannot be compared, but if it took another 8 months to progress and no emotional attachment develop, it would only prove to be a waste of time. I felt enough time had been wasted. I did start distancing myself at the realization of our limitations, the cycle, and my sanity. I started protecting myself. I deleted pictures from my phone. I avoided spending time with him because I felt could not trust him and I feared whatever might happen.

I don’t regret my decision. I would not be able to get better if I was with someone who was just as sick. I am thankful for the experience as I was able to identify my strengths and weaknesses within a relationship as well as the necessary room for growth.

As a result, I developed personal guidelines:

1). I am not to date for a year.

2) I do not want to be in a relationship with someone who already has a child. I understand that will become more difficult as I get older, but for now it is not in the books for me.

3) I will not be afraid to be myself and if I should catch myself behaving otherwise, it is important I take note as to why.

4) Boundaries. I’m too fuckin nice. I HAVE to remember my sass! That is one of my favorite things about me!

5) Independence. I should not have to inform my significant other of every little thing that I am doing.

6) I have to be more gentle with myself. I not only expect too much of other, but of myself. It is okay to recognize my limitations as they vary daily. Accept the situation and recognize my efforts.

7) Maintain momentum. Always forward, never back. Great things are accomplished by a series of small steps. It might not happen overnight, but I will look back one day and find myself on the other side.

#recovery #addict #drug addict #drug addiction #drug abuse #cutting #cutter #self harm #self injury #nssi #mental health #domestic violence #relationship abuse #abusive relationship #emotional abuse #dating violence #dating abuse #relationship

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parkkate · 7 years ago

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Hey!!! I reallyyyy love your writing it's so cute and I just really like it!!❤️I was wondering if you could write one where dracos rly eccentric/weird and he's really funny to be around but everyone's like ://?? But harry finds it rly cute!!! Thankssss xxx

Thank you so much, sweetie!! ❤️️ Maybe you already forgot you sent me that ask because it took me sooooo looooong to answer it lol. I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind but maybe you’ll still like it? Anyway, thank you so much for sending me that prompt :) I had loads of fun with it :) ❤️️

“No, no, not this one!”

Harry watched as his flatmate rushed over to the kitchen cabinet and wrenched the mug Blaise was holding out of his hands.

“What’s wrong with this one?” Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow. Draco bit his lip, while cradling the mug like it was his most prized possession.

“You just can’t use this one, okay?” he snapped. “What if you break it?”

Harry silently sipped his tea as the two Slytherins in his kitchen started bickering.”No, not that one either!” It wasn’t exactly unusual behaviour. And Harry was used to it by now. He and Draco had been flatmates for over a year and Draco always seemed a bit touchy about his things. Curiously enough, he never snapped at Harry about it. Only at his friends. And Harry’s friends.

“You’re being a brat, Draco,” Blaise muttered. “I just want some tea but apparently that is too much to ask.”

“Here, you can take this one,” Draco announced, pointing to the only mug left in the cabinet. “I don’t care much for that one anyway.”

“Hey! I gave you that one!” Pansy entered the kitchen with a scowl on her face. Draco just shrugged, flicked his wand once to set the kettle on the stove and to send the mugs flying back into the cabinet.

“You’re spoiling him,” Blaise said to Harry, sitting down at the table opposite of him.

“What? What do I have to do with any of this?” Harry protested.

“You’re spoiling him,” Blaise repeated. “You’re allowing this… this behaviour.”

“Allowing?” Harry echoed. “Excuse me, but what exactly do you think we are doing here? We’re just flatmates. I’m not the boss of him.”

“He most certainly isn’t,” Draco chimed in, plopping down on the chair next to Harry.

“Right,” Pansy snorted. “Say, Potter, have you fought with Draco since you moved in together? I mean a real, full-on fight .”

Harry thought about it for a second, an obvious ‘Yes’ on the tip of his tongue. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised they hadn’t had a big fight at all. Sure, they had argued about a few things here and there but it had been nothing like their fights in school.

Pansy seemed to take Harry’s silence as the answer she had been expecting and smirked.

“See? You have Draco wrapped around your little finger,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Pansy, will you shut up?” Draco growled. “That is preposterous.”

“Oh, is it?” Blaise grinned.

Draco ignored him and went over to the stove to prepare their tea. While the blond was out of earshot, Blaise leaned closer to Harry.

“You really shouldn’t encourage his OCD.”

“OCD?” Harry’s eyes widened.

“Obsessive-compulsive-”

“I know what it means,” Harry interrupted Pansy. “Draco doesn’t have OCD.”

Pansy and Blaise exchanged meaningful looks before turning their attention back to Harry.

“You can’t deny he’s totally obsessed with you,” Pansy smirked.

“And you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how he freaks out whenever something isn’t in the place he’s intended it to,” Blaise remarked.

Harry frowned, not sure he had noticed.

“You really are thick, Potter,” Blaise sighed. He looked around the room until he spotted something on the shelf. With one nod of his head, the clock he had fixed his eyes on flew across the room and landed on one of the windowsills. Grinning to himself, Blaise leaned back in his seat and winked at Harry.

“Now just wait and observe.”

“He’s not going to freak out,” Harry insisted.

He watched Draco closely as he returned to the table, levitating three mugs in front of him. When Blaise made a grab for the dark red one, Draco slapped his hand away.

“I told you, not that one. That’s mine.”

Blaise rolled his eyes and took the white one, hovering beside his head.

“What’s so special about the red one?” he muttered darkly.

“I bought that a month after we moved here. It makes me think of Ha-” Draco stopped abruptly, his body going rigid. “Um… Halloween! It makes me think of Halloween!”

Blaise and Pansy started snickering, elbowing each other. Harry wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Yeah, of course it would have such a special meaning to you, if it reminds you of Ha-lloween,” Blaise said teasingly.

Draco quickly looked away, wrinkling his eyebrows.

“Shut up, Blaise, you- Hey! What is the clock doing on the windowsill? That’s not where it’s supposed to be!” He whirled around in his seat. “Which one of you two did it?” he said, zeroing in on his Slytherin friends.

“What makes you think we did it?” Pansy said, her tone as sweet as sugar.

“Harry would never do something like that,” Draco announced decisively. Harry blinked at that.

“Never mind who did it,” Blaise said with a dismissive gesture. “The question is, can you leave it there? I bet you can’t.”

Draco bit his lip. Harry saw that his right hand was twitching. He obviously didn’t want to leave it there but he probably wanted to prove to Blaise that he was wrong.

“Come on, stop being so childish,” Harry murmured to Blaise and levitated the clock back to its original place on the shelf. Draco let out a little sigh of relief and gave Harry a grateful look.

“See, Blaise, this is why he’s my flatmate, not you,” Draco snapped.

“Sure, that’s the only reason,” Blaise snorted. His eyes wandered over to Harry, scrutinising him. “I really have no idea how you put up with him.”

Harry barked out a laugh and shook his head.

“He’s a great flatmate. It’s always clean, I never have to worry about the fridge being empty, he always makes sure I have my favourite tea… One time, he yelled at a salesperson because they didn’t have it in stock.” Harry chuckled to himself while Draco slid down in his seat, looking slightly embarrassed. “I thought it was rather sweet. I mean, sure he has a few quirks. He always insists I use the blanket he got for me when I’m on the sofa, although we have, like, five. But I don’t mind. It’s a nice blanket. It has little Snitches on it. Sometimes he massages my shoulders, but he never lets me reciprocate. I keep telling him I’m not as clumsy as I was in school but I guess he doesn’t believe me.”

Harry was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice the raised eyebrows, the looks the Slytherins were giving him or the way Draco had turned beet red.

“Oh, and I have to be at home on Thursdays by seven o’clock, because he cooks dinner and doesn’t like it when I’m late. But, I mean, the one time I was late was only because there were so many people in the pastry shop when I wanted to pick up these little cupcakes Draco likes so much.” When Harry’s words were only met with silence, he finally looked up and realised he had been babbling. “Oh, I’m sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean to-”

“So,” Pansy said, drumming her perfectly manicured fingers on the table. “How long have you two been secretly dating? And why didn’t you tell us?”

Harry’s mouth fell open as he gaped at Pansy.

“What?” he spluttered.

“We’re not dating,” Draco muttered darkly. “If we were dating, we would be kissing and… stuff.”

This time, Harry didn’t miss the undertone in Draco’s voice, although he wasn’t exactly sure how to interpret it.

“Do you want us to kiss and… stuff?”

The kitchen went completely silent as three pairs of eyes fixed on Draco, who kept staring at the mug in his hands.

“I… um… Well, I guess I wouldn’t be completely… Um, that is to say, I-”

“Hold on, is that why you wouldn’t come out of your room for a week, after I told you about that date I had with a Muggle a few months ago?”

Draco didn’t answer but kept staring at his mug.

“Oh, is that why you haven’t been dating at all while we have been living together?” Harry thought about other signs there might have been that hadn’t seemed strange at the time. Wait, there was one thing that had seemed very strange. “Oh my God, is that why all the towels seem to magically disappear from time to time when I come out of the shower?”

Draco let his head fall back and made a strangled noise, while Blaise and Pansy keeled over with laughter.

Harry ignored them and got out of his seat, never taking his eyes off Draco. He pulled the Slytherin into a standing position in front of him and gently cupped his cheek.

“Won’t you look at me?” Harry whispered. Draco’s eyes darted up to his, glimmering with apprehension. Harry stepped closer until their chests were touching, placing his other hand on Draco’s hip. “I guess we kind of have been dating for a while, haven’t we? I just didn’t realise.”

Draco shivered under Harry’s touch and tentatively brought his hands up to Harry’s shoulders.

“You never were the most observant type,” he murmured, his eyes flickering over Harry’s face. A smile tugged on the corner of Harry’s mouth as he leaned forward. He unconsciously held his breath as he let his lips brush over Draco’s, savouring the warmth and the silky feeling of his mouth. He barely noticed the loud cheers and wolf-whistles behind him.

“Hmmm, I guess I finally understand your obsession with lip balm,” Harry breathed amusedly. He stroked Draco’s cheek with his thumb and brought their foreheads together, suddenly feeling really dizzy.

“You know, I have an obsession with really, really soft and comfortable beds as well,” Draco said, wiggling his eyebrows and leaning in to kiss Harry once more.

When they broke apart several minutes later, Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful. The way Draco was looking at him almost made him topple over. This was how he wanted Draco to look at him from now on, with the biggest smile on his face Harry had ever seen.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #drarry squad #drabble #writing #sweet people #thats-very-raven

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oh-beyond · 8 years ago

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Sweat AU - One shot [M]

Suho liked to go to the gym which made him sweaty… I hated it, but I learn that I was wrong…

Suho x reader

Warning: Smut +18

Masterlist

A/N: OK so I am OCD myself, so don’t be bashing me about this one, I think for Suho I might put my anxiety aside...

Birthday feels, happy 26th birthday bunny prince.

“But I told you I could shower there, and you say you don’t like it”

“How can you shower in the gym? All the germs and god knows who used it before”

“But then if I don’t shower there of course I stink, what do you want me to do? Build a shower in the backyard so you don’t get disturbed when I come back home?”

“I didn’t say that Junmyeon. But don’t kiss me when you are dripping sweat, I told you I can’t stand it”

And that is how it went. My relationship with Junmyeon couldn’t be better, everything was perfect. Everything except that he liked to go to the gym too often and I can’t stand the smell of sweat and how sticky he looks when he comes back. It’s beyond me...

Today was his birthday and I was planning something really big for him, I will make extra special... but not just yet.

He wakes me up with a light kiss on my forehead, his feather-like kiss is everything I look forward every morning. Even today that it was his birthday and I was supposed to wake him up with a kiss. He’s done it again.

Being perfect.

“I have late shift today Jun, let me sleep”

“I’ll prepare us breakfast”

He was unbelievable, he was going to make breakfast on his birthday... how lucky was I?

I washed my face and comb my hair and I go downstairs following the fresh bread smell. He even had time to cycle to the bakery and get my favourite pumpkin seed bread.

I sit down and frown when I see that he is again sweaty, he comes over and gives me a kiss on my cheek, I wipe it immediately.

“Junmyeon~~~ don’t touch me when you sweat! OMG like why can’t you memorise this?”

“Sorry baby you just look so inviting and I w-”

“Don’t touch me!” I continued, he watched me as I kept nagging “why can’t you respect my freaking anxious ass? You have no consideration, I told you like a thousand times. Like I don’t even comment on the socks you leave next to the dresser, or the mess you make when you shave. This is not a joke!”

Junmyeon sat down in silence taking a slice of bread “I’m sorry”

Maybe I went a bit overboard, especially as it was his birthday. I mean he’s been doing great and in fairness my anxiety has lessened ever since we had gotten together.

I did exaggerate, because Junmyeon was one of the most considerate people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. And he was my boyfriend and he loved me and respected me and never questioned or made fun of me.

He was too patient and he loved me too much.

Junmyeon went to work that day a bit too quietly, he did shower and give me my goodbye kiss but he was off. I know it will be perfect when I surprise him today when he comes back home.

Nothing to worry about.

It was already 4 pm and he didn’t call, Junmyeon usually called during his lunch break but today he didn’t. So I decided in calling him instead.

“Hey baby!”

“Why didn’t you call me all day?”

“I’m sorry, they surprised me today at work, so we went to have lunch out”

They had surprised him for his birthday... that birthday that you didn’t acknowledge yet.

Perfect, the more upset he gets the better surprise he will receive.

“Alright don’t be late tho”

“I won’t, I love you”

Candles, petals all over the floor and on the silk sheets, a pretty sexy babydoll, one of those he loved that you were too lazy to wear. Makeup smoky and red lipstick like he liked. And the ponytail that drove him crazy because he loved pulling you from it... everything for him today.

I crossed your legs and looked at your watch. It was already 7 pm and there was no sign of Junmyeon’s car.

Where was he?

“Junmeyon?”

“Yes?” he replied panting.

“Where are you?”

“I am at the gym”

“Why? You didn’t say you would go today”

“I just ate too much cake, just burning some calories”

“You are so obsessed with them calories, have you seen your body? You would need you whole body weight in cake to gain weight, a piece of cake won-”

“Yeah yeah, I’m fucking obsessed with my perfect body, just as fucking obsessed with your fucking bathroom and good smell and fuck”

Who was this?

Perhaps he was upset and it never showed... too much, I had to come up with a solution.

“Myeon-ah~~~”

“What?”

“Come over... pretty please?”

“Yeah in an hour or so”

“Bu-”

He terminated the call while I was still talking.

Panic.

I put on a hoodie over my lingerie and a pair of sweatpants as fast as you could and drove to the gym. It was deserted, not a soul. But I still looked out of place with all the heavy makeup. There was a group of girls that that looked like they finished their session that shot me some gazes questioning my looks for working out.

I looked around and there he was, on the treadmill, running like there was no tomorrow, wearing a sleeveless blue T, sweat all over, his hair wet and his frown visible.

“Goddamnit, look at him, he is gorgeous, ugh, oh I’d like to taste that sweat”

I heard one of the girls say as they all stared at my boyfriend eating him up with their hungry eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind that and give him some stress relieve, he looks like he needs to unwind, release some. Oh I’d gladly take him all”

I couldn’t keep listening, but I wanted to keep listening?

I stood there also looking at my boyfriend, the sweat did give him a special look tho in all fairness. He glowed, he was sexy.

And he was all mine.

Just when I was about to head to talk to him one of the girls went before me. She leaned on the handrail making Junmyeon take off his earphones, slowing the speed.

“Can I help you?”

“Perhaps I could help you pretty boy” she said turning off the treadmill completely.

“Excuse me?”

She moved and joined him on the treadmill “looks like you could use some stress relive. I just know what exactly you might need”

“Is this a club now? Get down I need to finish”

“Oh I’ll get down if that is what you want”

“Alright I’m not interested”

He pushed her away and placed his towel over his shoulders, he walked passed me as I fixed my baseball cap for him not to recognise me.

“Fuck! He must be gay!” announced the girl to her friends.

“Or taken, have you thought about that?”

“Let me discover that, you know no one resists these bad boys” she said confidentially fixing her sports bra.

I follow her ready to punch her pretty shaped ass that looked perfect on those leggings, she just simply goes inside the men’s changing room unhesitantly.

“Hey!”

I hear Junmyeon exclaim.

“This is the men’s- oh- wait, what the fuck?”

Sounded serious. I opened the door slowly to see Junmyeon pinned to the lockers.

“It’s a pity to wash off all this sweat”

“Really? First time someone tells me something like this”

What!???

Panic run through your system... why wasn’t Junmyeon pushing her away now?

“Well then they are blind because boy you look so fine”

“Is this the appropriate place to approach a guy this way tho?”

“Let’s take a shower together so you can tell me all about this not being appreciated, and how to approach a guy and where” she said as she run her hands down his forearms.

I needed to see this, I wanted to see how far he’d go but I just couldn’t, my feet moved forward opening the door slamming it to the tiled wall, causing the unfortunate tile that came in contact with the door handle to crack.

I took off my baseball cap and crossed my arms over my chest leaning on one leg, my hip moving to the side. I bit the inside of my cheek and eyed this bitch head to toe.

Junmyeon was taken aback, he pressed himself further to the lockers, my appearance must of been comic because this slut was giggling to herself.

“Baby!?” he stuttered.

“Oh you are taken!” “Move your hands off my man if you want to keep that pretty hair”

“I’m not interested in guys that are taken” she stated “but you might wanna take better care of him” she added before taking her leave.

Once we were alone I looked at Junmyeon again, his hands pressed on the locker, his expression still as if he’s just been caught in headlights.

I moved forward scanning his face, I was so close, almost touching his sweaty body, my anxiety levels were on edge, he did smell and I was upset, my stomach churned. But then I saw it, the other side to all this.

My eyes traveled to his jaw and his chin, there was a droplet of sweat dangling, I still don’t know how my hand went all the way to his chin wiping the droplet with my thumb.

“Baby!” he said eyes wide open.

“Shhh, bad birthday boys don’t get to talk” I whisper, my voice coming out the sluttiest I’ve ever spoken in my entire life.

He just admired how I’m rubbing the sweat between my thumb and forefinger, he was amused by it.

He can’t recognise me, also he thinks he’s in trouble, but all this mess can work in his favour after all.

“You do smell... you stink actually, I don’t get it, you shower so much but you still stick”

“Baby, let’s go home, I’m sorry, but believe me nothing happened, she was eyeing me since I came, herself and her friends and I ne-”

“So you knew that there was a group of girls checking you out and what do you do?” I ask trapping him between my arms as my hands rested on the lockers.

“I ignored them”

My eyes travel from his face to his neck and Adams apple that was bobbing nervously, I heard him swallow and it did turn me on, my anger suddenly replaced by a throbbing between my legs.

I detach myself and tilt my head to keep looking at his body, his drenched sleeveless t-shirt, his forearms that were shiny, his torso and the the t-shirt that gave away too much.

“And what’s with all the heavy makeup? And that lipstick? I never seen you wear red lipstick that dark?”

My eyes meet his again and I unzip my hoodie painfully slow, his ears seem to move almost at the sound of the zipper expectant. It’s halfway open and my hands move the hoodie to the sides, making him see preview of what he was going to get.

“It’s your birthday, and this was going to be one of your presents, but you decided to come to the gym instead”

Junmyoen gulps again, eyebrows knitting, throwing his head to the locker making a big sound as his head hit the metal door.

“Baby? Are you upset?”

I look around and find the showers “take shower” I order.

“Here?”

“Yes here” he nods and smiles.

I surprise him by walking behind him.

“Where are you going?”

“To the handicap shower, that is where you are going to shower. And that is where I am going to watch you shower”

My voice. It affects him, I see him tremble as if icy cold air just hit him. He can’t deal with what is happening right now, but my authoritative tone is making him lose his shit.

He takes his gym bag and heads towards the handicap shower, I enter behind him and I have to admit that the place looks decent enough, it even smells like good cleaning products that disguise his sweat odour. This might be easier than what I thought it would.

I lean on the tiled wall and watch how he rids himself from his drenched t-shirt. Oh but one thing was Junmyeon’s torso, and one different thing was Junmyeon’s torso after working out, and hell yes did I have a hot perfect boyfriend or what? I was even learning to like the filthy sticky look.

He was about to pull his shorts down but he raised his head to meet with eyes. I already had my lower lip between my teeth and he knew I was ready to scream his name.

“Baby... this is awkward for me”

“Remove and shower” I demand pointing at his lower body.

He was being so obedient, the most I’ve seen him.

I liked it.

He finally was naked, he didn’t give me the view of his front but his butt cheeks were enough, his back muscles coming to life and he raised his arms to lather the shampoo on his hair.

Ughr, no I can’t, I just can’t. Why can’t I? I mean I’ve seen him naked so many times? Why was this affecting me this much.

I needed friction.

NOW!

I found myself unzipping my hoodie and pulling my sweats out of the way, I turned off the water while his face was still full of soap.

“Baby- oh-” he moans when he feels my body pressed against his.

I wipe the soap out of his face and kiss him, he is taken by surprise and he just receives the kiss like the good boy he is. He parts his lips and lets me deepen the kiss, all while his hands were to his sides.

I break the kiss panting, I want more, I want Junmyeon.

“Baby? Your lingerie will get ruined, and we are in a public bathroom”

“Rip the fucking lingerie and I don’t care where we are” I say bluntly as I play with his hardening member.

“Holly fuck what happened to you? I’m still all sweaty”

“I don’t care, Junmyeon, I want you” I add stroking him faster.

“Your makeup... is that a mole you drew on your upper lip?”

“Yes to match yours, so you know what yours does to me”

He didn’t add anything to that but I felt his hand inside my thong, cupping my ass before pulling it down. Once it was pooling over my feet he lifts me up and slams me to the cold tiled wall. I moan at the contact on my back, my legs find his waist and I wrap them around him. Next thing I feel is his tip at my clit rubbing finally getting the friction I needed all while his teeth sink in my collarbones.

“How are you so naughty today baby?”

“Inside, now! Do it!”

He wastes no time and he is inside. Finally. He ponds fast an in an erratic manner, the unusual place and my change in behaviour must of done something new to him because he is too hot, he is pounding in me like he’s never done before, he has me seeing stars while I scream his name.

“You like that baby? Rough and dirty like this?”

“Jun~~~ angh~~~ yes”

The tiled surrounding made my voice sound 10 times louder and it was doing wonders to Junmyeon, he lasted and lasted, shamelessly not caring if anyone heard by now.

When I reached my high my legs felt heavy and my body limp, I was catching my breath when finally Junmyeon released with one last hard thrust that felt that hit my brain. He took ownership of my lips sucking hard bringing me closer to him as my legs finally hit the floor.

“Fucking hot, you will drive me crazy one day, I can’t control myself around you”

“That was by far the best”

“Must be the sweat baby”

“Happy birthday Myeonnie, let’s go home I still have many things to show you”

“More that this?”

“There’s a cake that needs to be tasted, and there ain’t no plates” I touch his abdomen and I already see his member twitching again “I thought your chest is a good place to put some cake”

“Oh babygirl, let’s get home”

_____________________

A/N: I am Suho’s personal dumpster, I am his trash and he owns my soul... like full ownership...

Thanks for reading.

Happy birthday velvety peachy bunny.

#exo scenarios #exo imagine #exo smut #exo fanfiction #suho scenario #suho's birthday #Suho fanfiction #suho smut #suho one shot #exo one shot #smut #kpopsmut #junmyeon smut

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come-join-themurder · 8 years ago

Text

Obsessive - Part 27

What’s gonna happen when they try to tell Clay? Will he even let Juice speak? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

You pulled up to TM on Juice’s bike and it was already dark. Chibs and Happy were sitting outside, their bikes were the only ones in the lot apart from Clay, who was undoubtedly sitting at the head of the table inside the chapel as he usually did when he had things to think over. You slid Juice’s bag off your shoulders and handed it to him, “I think you should stay outside with Chibs and Happy,” he cautioned and you nodded as he took your hand and led you up to the pavilion where his brothers were sitting at a picnic table. You let his hand go and he began heading towards the door, while you took your place at the picnic table beside Happy who nodded to you.

Chibs was already on his feet, jogging towards Juice who he headed off at the door to the clubhouse.

“Think abou’ what yer doin’ Juicey,” he warned, blocking the younger man’s path, “Clay is pissed at you.”

Juice huffed, “Chibs, it might seem like everything is fine now but it won’t be for very long. I need to talk to Clay. Move,” he reached an arm out to push Chibs aside who let out an exasperated chuckle and gripped the young biker’s wrist, “Aye, it migh’ be okay for you, but it ain’t okay for Clay. I’m no’ lettin’ ye go in there an’ have yourself killed over the lass because you want to be honorable. Ye already got two black eyes, boy.” Chibs finished speaking and looked over to you, sitting on the table beside Happy who was leaned back, rolling a toothpick around in his mouth. He motioned with his head to Happy, beckoning him over, but you stayed planted on the bench, not wanting to be tied up in the drama any more than you already were..

“Chibs,” Juice sighed, beginning to show his agitation, “(Y/N) is in danger and her father needs to know. You can get out of my way or you can fucking come with me but I’m going in there brother.” He was determined to go in, just as Chibs was determined to stop him. “Juicey, I’m lookin’ out for yer best interest here…” Chibs trailed off as Juice huffed and glared back at the Scotsman.

The two men stared each other down for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds before Chibs sucked in a deep breath and sighed, stepping away from the door and allowing Juice to pass.

“Hap, go with him,” Chibs ordered and Happy nodded, following behind the youngest biker as they both disappeared behind the heavy clubhouse door.

Juice was walking towards the chapel when he felt Happy’s hand on his shoulder. He turned around to look at his taller brother, who fixed him with a hard and protective look, “Maybe I should go in first…” Happy’s raspy tone trailed off and Juice swallowed, nodding and allowing Happy to overtake him and step in through the chapel door first. Juice’s heart was racing as he walked inside behind Happy to see Clay sitting at the head of the table. His cigar was in one hand, his other hand stretched out on the large Oak table, his pistol only inches away from his fingertips. For a moment, Juice hesitated to step inside, but then he remembered how important the information he had was, so he swallowed down the fear he was harboring, and stepped up, beginning to speak.

“Um, C-Clay…” his voice faltered causing Clay to lift his gaze to meet his own, “I, um… I wasn’t completely honest with you earlier... There’s, uh, something I need to tell you...” he paused, “when I left here I went to (Y/N)’s house and I ended up finding something that you need to see.” “Unless it concerns my little girl’s safety--” “--It does, Clay,” the anxiety in Juice’s voice made Clay tense but he said nothing. He glared at Juice as Happy stood beside him until finally Juice broke the silence again.

“Look, what happened between (Y/N) and I…” he paused, slinging his backpack off his shoulder and setting it on the table in front of him. “I wanted it to happen and so did she. I really care about her Clay, but I received a threat from someone right after we spent a night together--”

Clay stood up, his chair screeching against the wood floors causing Juice to stop abruptly and take a step back defensively.

“Show me what you have,” Clay ordered as he leaned over the head of the table, placing his cigar in the ashtray.

Juice took a deep breath, gulping loudly and unzipping his bag to pull out the envelope and its contents and slid it across to the grey-haired man.

“You should have come to me as soon as this happened.” Clay sat back down in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face with frustration after seeing the contents of the envelope.

“I know, I know… and I’m sorry I didn’t but I was worried about what you’d do if you found out about us and… I fucked up. I know I did. I’m so sorry, Clay, but that’s not all.” Juice reached back into his bag and pulled out the photo you had received in the mail, handing it over to your father whose mouth gaped at the sight of it. “That was sent to (Y/N) in the mail,” Juice stared intensely at the photo in Clay’s grasp, “....Same handwriting on the envelope it arrived in as the threats sent to me. Any idea who this guy is?” “Jesus Christ,” Clay breathed, he looked up at the two men standing before him, focusing on the taller man. “Get Chibs. One of you take (Y/N) back home to pack a bag, and bring her back here. Church in an hour, I need everyone here, have him let everyone know.” He ordered Happy, who had been standing by Juice’s side the whole time. Happy nodded and retreated back towards to entrance to the bar. Clay then turned to Juice, “Go get your laptop. I need to you do a search on a name…” He sighed again, running his hand across the top of his hair, “I know who (Y/N)’s stalker is.”

#Juice Ortiz imagine #juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #obsessive #cjtm #soa imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #soa!juice #juice!soa #surprise update

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haelsage · 7 years ago

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Please read slowly and carefully

I don’t know how to say all this without being mean, so here it is.

If I work the next morning, no, I’m not doing anything in the evening. “But you only work until 3. You don’t have an excuse.” Or whatever the comment is about being done with work so early. The fuck I don’t I don’t have an excuse. I’ll make all the damn excuses I want or feel the need to make; even though I shouldn’t even have to. It’s no one’s business to tell me how to spend my time. In case you didn’t realize, I work a 10 hour shift + a 30 minute unpaid lunch. Monday through Friday and every other Saturday (not really that complicated after all; no, it’s not). Simply think of it like this – I only have Sundays off. K? So if you don’t plan something with me for Saturday afternoon (remember I work until 3pm) or Sunday morning – at least a week in advance – it’s not happening. Or I will not be involved. It’s not in my person to make spur of the moment sacrifices like everyone else seems to be able to do. I am personally not capable.

My shift starts at 4:30 in the morning. I have to be out of bed by 3:30 am. I WILL be IN bed by 8 pm, not just starting to think about going to bed: IN BED. No more exceptions; I’ve made more than enough in the last 6 months and I’m done. I took this job so I could finally have a consistent sleep schedule because I can no longer function on 3 hours of sleep. It’s unacceptable for me. “So you still have 5 hours after work.” So fucking what. It’s MY time now. And yes, I’m “doing that school thing too.” Did we forget that? UW Stout, not some shitty fly-by place.

I actually GET home around 3:30 pm. Pack my lunch for the next day, lay my clothes out and any number of house chores before starting dinner. Yes, I cook every night. It’s just this stupid priority I have; excuse me. I have a routine and I do NOT like it being interrupted. Yes, they call that OCD; I know, I’ve been diagnosed; I’m on meds, etc. This housework stuff gets done NOW. Not tomorrow, not next week, not next month, NOW. We don’t own enough clothes to let the laundry pile up more than 4 days, I will not let the dishes sit in the sink or dishwasher. I will vacuum at least twice a week, the trash goes out, clean the bathroom, etc, etc. I do not have the mental ability to just let it be. No, I will not make Dustin help me; he has his own shit to take care of. The sooner I get it done, the sooner I can finally sit down and hey, do some homework. Or maybe, just maybe, work on a craft project some day. Because that’s my hobby. I do not like my craft time being interrupted.

I don’t have pent up energy after work. I don’t sit all day and I’m not in a cubicle by myself. I DON’T need to get up and move around, I need to sit the fuck down. No, I don’t need a beer; I do not even want to drink. /Gasp! Get over it; I don’t need alcohol to make my life good or great or complete or whatever. Oh, My, God. I don’t need to drink to be happy or funny: if you don’t like my humor, fuck off. I don’t need to see people when I get home; I need to get the fuck away from people, I need to be left the fuck alone. I do not need beer and social interaction to “unwind.” Being social is exhausting for me. The only way for me to “unwind” is to just be left alone so I can get shit done around the house.

“It’s so sad not to have a social life.” But it’s not for me. I don’t need a social life to be happy. The only time I get miserable is when I finally get to this point of ranting. Because I keep saying yes to every social invite in an attempt to make everyone happy and not be a bitch. But you know what? I am a bitch. I don’t know how to say no without being snotty, so I just continue to say yes. Then it gets all built up and I get frustrated for days and mull over all this crap I’m spewing. And I’m just wasting time trying to make people understand something they will never even care to. The only time I’m miserable is when I don’t get time to myself.

And because only less than 5 people actually understand the scope of this about me: I am anti-social as F**K. If it were possible for me to live in a cave away from civilization, I would. I so fucking totally would. I have even drawn a map of how I imagine this wonderful cave. The only beach nearby is the patch of rocks alongside the creek running down below – where I wash my 3 sets of handmade clothing. I nod to the mountain lion across the way every morning; this is the only communication EVER needed.

I’m not sad; I’m not sick; I’m not depressed: I just prefer to be left alone. I have been this way since I was a small child. There was no tragic or traumatic event; this just is how it is. I’m 32; I’m not changing. I’m not going to “wake up” and suddenly become some super outgoing person. It’s not my nature; it never has been and it never will be. It doesn’t just take the right person to break my shell. The more you bother and push me, the more I will decline. I’m not stuck up, I don’t hate you, I just have nothing to say. I don’t feel the need to speak just to fill some awkward silence. I don’t crave attention, or conversation, or even presence, most of the time. I chose to go through life with a companion because Dustin actually understands all this about me and doesn’t judge me for it and accepts it when I say “no.” He doesn’t get all pissy when I want to go home for the night or just be left alone. He knows when it’s ok to bother me; He’s worth any sacrifices I have choosen to make.

Well, I just wasted > 3 hours getting all this out, because most people probably didn’t even read past the first paragraph. And with those people, all of this will continue to be a weekly/monthly conversation, because they aren’t listening or just don’t care. Those of you who did read this whole thing, thanks. And those of you who actually understand all of this about me – I mean truly understand, not just saying you do – Thanks. You are the ones for which I will make exceptions. These occasions may be rare; but you understand that.

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roadswewalk · 8 years ago

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T6T - my full reaction

Right I know this is super late (work project overload, apology posted preemptively), but here, finally, are my actual thoughts on second watch of T6T. This is my first new episode since joining the fandom, so I really indulged. This is like a live-blog meets rewatch review meets spaghetti meta. Almost all of this is uninfluenced by others, since I missed the majority of what’s been written, but I’ve called out a few cases where popular opinion filtered through. It probably goes without saying that to be able to write functionally about any of it, I have to make a baseline assumption that what I’m seeing has enough relationship to reality to be worth reacting to. Doesn’t mean I believe that overall, but I’m not interested (not here, anyway) in playing mistake-lie-or-clue for every detail, so. Grain of fish food.

Under the cut because LONG.

The hearing - uh oh. Retcon technique crashes through the fourth wall into the fictional universe. Or, I’m all up in ur fictional universe, redefining fiction. Meta. I get it: Don’t believe everything we’re about to show you, nor everything we’ve shown you before. Or, at least, don’t take it too seriously. And THAT is actually problematic

For starters, some of the people who abandoned ship last series complained that consequences aren’t real enough on this show. For me, shooting Magnussen looks awfully gimmicky now that they’ve resolved it in this way; they'd never have got away with this if there hadn’t been a three-year hiatus. Mycroft’s “oh Sherlock, what have you done?” is one of my favorite lines in the series. Every. Time. Watery eyes to sobbing in 6 words. It is utterly cheapened by not making the consequences real. A little resistance, an impassioned appeal on the strength of Sherlock’s record of service - these would not have been out of place. “My brother is a murderer”, sardonically, as the episode’s opening line should have been the first clue, I guess.

@ Sir Edwin shutting down the Moriarty discussion quickly and single-handedly: Has following TJLCers made me better at watching television, or was this disappointingly obvious? @ Sherlock in this entire scene: I love it too, baby.

So the scene leaked via KBS dubbing was at the beginning, after all. And completely not serious spoiler material, thanks for the slap on the wrist!

I like this tango they’re playing during the case montage!

Birth scene, :/ cliché. Baby jokes - okay actually really cute. Loving these boys with the baby, and apparently I could go for parentlock if it’s always just side-plots and comic relief. John’s little flirtation - not so much, hope this is going somewhere plotty. John’s backbend to ask about being godfather, though. How flexible is that back, Dr. Watson?

Welsboroughs are pretty adorable. Why does Mr. W. wear his ring on the pinky, though? - asked about this separately and never got a reply. Mirror / magnifier next to Sherlock’s head - I guess this is Meaningful but it escapes me.

Noticing the Thatcher bust / pricking of my thumbs, a little difficult to accept. But, “intuitions are not to be ignored” OKAY DADS. A lot different from previously, though, with “dangerous to theorize without data“ etc. “OCD - my respects”, lol.

Is Mr. Welsborough a John mirror here? They’re wearing turquoise and defending Mrs. T’s existence together. (Is this the same day that John goes home and texts E back? He’s wearing the turquoise jumper?) Wonder where Gatiss picked up this horrific story of Charlie’s death, I was in slight tears. Relatedly (or not), Mycroft is GOLD in this episode.

On the established subject of the client-with-a-spy-wife being a John mirror: Note also, his line “I thought you’d done something clever. But now you’ve explained it, it’s dead simple, inn’t it?” is directly from Watson on multiple occasions in ACD canon. Also, at first I was like, “Why is Sherlock spending so much time impressing this man with his deductions? He doesn’t know yet whether Lestrade (and arguably Hopkins) have brought him anything more interesting.“ Then I realized - he thinks John is sitting there watching him, apparently stunned into silence and charmed head-waving. Awww.

Lestrade saying “straße”, John saying “idée fixe”... it’s clearly Sherlock narrating. Reliably or not, that is the question. Sherlock noticing the scent of formaldehyde mixed with Lestrade’s usual cologne. <3 Sherstrade moment. But why do people think Lestrade is going on a date with Hopkins? He’s not? Sherlock said someone new from forensics; Hopkins is a DI working with Interpol.

“Slow, but sure, John. Not dissimilar to yourself... Well, I like you.” I wasn’t sure I heard this right the first time! Gratuitous compliments why. John’s face does a nice journey after this but unfortunately Mary speaks right away. Lovely on slo-mo. “Having fun while I can” / “a noose for me to put my neck into” - awww, cheer up Sherlock, honey; you can’t die, you’re the star of the show.

When Craig first tells Sherlock the busts are from Tbilisi, he’s already looking up with his eyes doing their deduction dance. The next scene implies it’s because of the Black Pearl of the Borgias case, but is it? Lestrade’s reaction when Sherlock already knows the name of his victim - priceless.

Why does “luxury 1, 2 & 3 bed apartments” scroll across the screen when Sherlock is searching his phone about the pearl? Graphics team: “well ads are unavoidable, it adds to the realism” lol what. Man, it makes me a bit salty that they’re mentioning the blog so much even though we don’t get updates anymore, boo.

Sherlock: “They’re not destroying them, that’s not what’s happening.” Lestrade: “Yes it is.” Sherlock: “Well it *is* what’s happening but that’s not the point. [Okay, thanks AGAIN, dads.]

Floor-to-ceiling Hokusai “Great Wave” print behind the pool - I am in lo<3! Wearing leggings printed with Hokusai’s Phoenix as I type this and I just. Guh. That entire location is beautiful, thank you scouts!

All the ‘hand-waving” instead of proper switches in this house - again, I get it, thanks.

19:00 ... 22:00 flashing on screen.... so Sherlock waited 3 hours. Am I supposed to get something from this? (I hate not trusting anything I see on this show, nor my own ability to interpret art. I take back one of those ‘thanks’, dads.)

Fight scene: gratuitous, fun, hard to accept. Boys will be boys. The people living in the house didn’t wake up?

Why does Sherlock know what John said to forgive Mary? Also, biggest mistake of the episode is right here, revealing he knows what that flash drive is and who had it.

The ambassador says she’s got something they would dearly love if they could get out - amo/ammo... I’m still not sure how she fits in? The flash drive is dangling around Ajay’s neck during the op? So if the rescue goes wrong, AGRA are supposed to kill themselves, and what - hope the hostages are allowed to survive in captivity thereafter?

Lestrade knows about Mary’s past, seriously? Once again the blog and the Internet fame make Sherlock & friends easy targets - though I don’t doubt Ajay could have found them easily enough without that. Wow, shooting up the plaster bust studio must have been a good time ;) Sherlock’s hidey-hole is... epic. He even has a travel chemistry set and microwave (for the real experiments~), all that’s missing is a John Watson balloon, gods. “That was quite a text you sent me” - what did it SAY? At least he’s not giving her an easy time here. And is a different accent coming out?

“We were family.” “Families fall out.” [later, paraphrase] “I don’t know anything about them - happy families.” Break my heart. Sherlock, your mum and dad and big brother love you. Don’t they? Don’t they, Moftiss~?

Mary’s little smirk when Sherlock reminds her of his vow pretty much mirrors mine. Like what can Sherlock Holmes do to protect her family better than a trained assassin? (As we find out, nothing.) The hubris here... it’s a huge part of what goes wrong in this episode, too. Making the vow in the first pace was problematic and one of my least favorite things that Sherlock did, because it’s out-of-order, ridiculous, and impossible to maintain even before we knew anything about Mary and just. Did anyone except Sherlock EVER believe that vow was worth something in reality, as opposed to some sad devotion he pledged to his best friend for wont of any more suitably dramatic exit from said friend’s wedding? This brings me back to the awful angst-fest of a head-canon wherein Sherlock no longer places any value on his life alone, and he’s secretly longing for an excuse to start on a path that will secure his own death. I’ve been there in depression and I’m not sure the writers realize they’re invoking it, nor that I trust them to handle it properly if they do.

Aw, PLEASE give us more of baby Holmes boys playing pirates. Also, again, Mycroft <3. But, Sherlock’s got a cracked rib here and he won’t go to John to get it wrapped. “You don’t have many favors left” - apparently the only real consequence so far. Mycroft: “What then?” - YES, THANK YOU, VOICE OF REASON! “Not on my watch” - first from Mycroft, then from Sherlock. But only Mycroft turns out to be able to back it up. Score one for ice.

Why do the country names include U.S.S.R? LMAO at Gatiss coming up with this sequence, like oh then she’ll grab a passport out of a rock in Norway, then how about a motorcycle in America? I hope alcohol was involved, let everyone have fun with it.

She covers her head but shows her ankles? Sherlock’s game with Karim, again, love. It’s easy to forget why I love this show when I can’t follow the plot, but in the end, I do love it. Sherlock’s little speech that he’s been preparing for ages to rattle off to Mary. And then John walks in and wow, I can feel the smile slide off my face faster than Sherlock’s. Definitely a hell of a lot faster than Mary’s! It’s so awkward that Sherlock is there for the following conversation, especially the point he joins in, literl chills at the creep factor. But - “couples are supposed to stay together and work things through” - as in, what John and Sherlock did while she was away?

And sorry to break in again here, but the “love” connection (lol) is tenuous enough. Who would believe that an intelligence committee member would use a variation of her own code name as a sabotage code word? Trying too hard to be clever, Mark, sorry. Lady S under pressure is pretty hot, though.

Wow, John is so smooth when he’s being hit on. Like the plot or no, really makes me want to try it, hehe. Vampire... this screams foreshadowing but I won’t know of what until I see it, derp.

John’s bus number is 59 (159 return). Another reference to that sonnet?

“How many more times?” Lady S calling Mycroft on putting his brother before his other obligations. Ouch. When this dries up it’s going to be even more painful... And, “you had better be right about this”, 'cept he wasn’t. No wonder Sherlock is ready to die later. There’s no pretty escape at this point.

“The curtain rises” - third time we’ve heard that. He does love a touch of the dramatic. Does it mean something else too? The different text styles, poetry to one, usual demands to the other - I love it but i don’t know why. Does it mean we won’t get poetry anymore from Sherlock?

Ballsy to film up in there. I was expecting the aquarium walls to get shot up at some point. Pity. Well, maybe not. Is this the entire shark analogy - “we’re like them, ghostly, living in the shadows, predators, we have to keep moving or we die”? I guess the last one pretty well clinches it. But it rubs up the wrong way to use the same symbol as for Magnussen, but for different reasons.

So she got involved for money, then she set up both sides of the rescue operation to get the ambassador assassinated to protect the fact that she was ever involved and hopefully make her exit? Why didn’t she retire at that point?!

Hmm, does John call Mycroft or Lestrade from the cab?

So Sherlock going on about the wedding ring relocation here, when John is still wearing his ring on his left ring finger in the chess promo photo from TFP... I blogged some crack about it but now I’m wondering if it’s legit significant. But anyway, Sherlock, shut up about single old ladies, alright.

Mystrade on screen together. Maybe eye contact! And Lestrade putting his brave on when Mrs. Norbury raises her gun. Sherlock staring down the bullet like “I give in, I am yours” - not sure why people wondered at him not jumping out of the way, seems clear he’s ready and willing to die at this point, because he thinks it’s a solution to something. Well, living on borrowed time, now, and with all favors called in, that’ll make for some good drama, can’t wait!

Wow, so, a woman has been on the edge of a dangerous lifestyle, but eventually she just wants a little peace. A man with uncanny knowledge and mysterious connections to the government is on her trail. She tries to confront him, but there are inconvenient witnesses. Eventually she does fire her gun, but someone else gets shot, and it resolves nothing. ...Am I describing Vivienne or Mary?

Pausing between Mary’s moment and John’s so I can appreciate the scene properly. Oh god, I hate myself for this. But really, Martin’s acting in TRF was perfect. I know real primal grief is not pretty and that was probably very accurate, but I don’t come to television to see that much of reality. You’re breaking our contract here a little by shocking me so much in a moment like this. First watch, my tears dried right up. This time I let them fall for awhile, and it was nice. :/

They’re talking about proper portrayal of grief, but isn’t this transition to the anger stage a bit quick? Mystrade and Sherlock facing off above the Watsons - this is very iconic-looking, though for the life of me I couldn’t say why Lestrade is there. Hope it’s a backstory thing that we get to hear about later. So many white men on this show, always coming out on top. How can I adore them all? Feel like I have to take a few punches out of my various identity cards for this weakness.

Roll call, who knew almost instantly that Ella was talking to Sherlock? How did you know? I can’t decide what clued me in - I guess it was the camera angle, the transition from John to her on the same side of the frame? By her second or third line it was obvious, but I swear I knew before that...

It just bugs me when Ella speaks in platitudes. When my therapists weren’t as clever as me, they would do this. It solves nothing. Also I’m pretty sure she would have to recuse herself from Sherlock’s case if he mainly wants to talk about John, another client. They’ve shown in THoB that they understand doctor-patient privilege, so, not sure what to make of this.

Mycroft at home is my severe kink. Him with his lack of furniture in his kitchen, brolly has to lean against his case on the floor. Still wearing his coat and waistcoat when he gets to the fridge (suits are cut much better this season, damn Mark), rubbing his sore neck, takeout menus, cuff links, pocket watch.

It’s hard to express the strength of my yearning to see inside Mycroft’s fridge. Like I love that it’s mostly empty, but not seeing pitiful gaping immaculate interior is still one of the biggest disappointments of the episode, tbh. And frankly that yearning extends a bit further, into slithering up behind and offering a neck rub territory. People who read him as queer, are we talking zero exceptions? Mind if I test that? Antarctica, darling, give me a call. That empty, listless feeling… I can help. I hear you’re the Ice Man. Well it may interest you to know that in certain circles, I’m known as the Ice Queen. I realize you have incredible power and influence - probably enough to stop global warming. Don’t do it, baby, I don’t care about that stuff. I wanna melt with you. (Heh, might send that one to bbcsherlockpickuplines.)

13th in a post-it note, prompting a call to Sherrinford - at this point my money’s on drug rehab facility. That Sherlock burns down. Won’t that be fun. And like season 2, I’m guessing this is setup for a plot arc that will be fully revealed in episode 3. And that’s about the extent of my non-crack predictions for the next few episodes!

John’s balloon drooping off the table, oof. “Work is the best antidote to sorrow” - like sorrow is poison, oh Sherlock, what would Ella say? Not it’s not, it’s normal and it’s a thing you work through. “Norbury” - she doesn’t know the details but she can see the significance, poor Hudders.

Mary making Moriarty jokes on the level of sensitivity that I often display (and which never fails to earn me zero notes)... LOVE IT DON’T STOP BITCH!

“Nothing’s certain, nothing’s written” - the words that overlay John and Mary holding hands in that teaser of all teasers - a throw-away line picked up by marketers or a sign of things to come~?

“The danger was the fun part but you can’t outrun that. You need to remember that so I’m giving you a case.” What, retire to Sussex and stop putting John Watson in danger? This is getting ‘danger’ously close to some of my crack theories for why a longer hiatus should follow. MAYBE I’ll accept but only if they actually film us three episodes of retirementlock - with some quaint flashbacks or something - alright?

I’m glad Molly only says sorry the one time. It’s not her apology to make. Maybe best scene in the episode right here. Reading the letter in the cab... brave.

Path locking around your feet, the demons under the street and the sharks in the river (sharks in a river? really?), etc. - this seems to be confirmation that Sherlock is still awaiting his consequences; okay, good. But “can Samarra be avoided?” - learned nothing, have you? Or is it that your survival is necessary to save John Watson?

Go to Hell - not speculating, too little information. I already know Sherlock’s going to Hell, that he takes John with him, and that they come back - my dad told me.

Summary things:

So live-Tweeting didn’t happen. That was disappointing. What is Joe Lidster’s new project, then?

I already knew the Samarra story really well from childhood and then a brief study in Arabic class once. So the communication of it here felt really heavy handed. Wish I hadn’t brushed up on it (thanks to NYT reviewer, I believe) beforehand. I feel like Benedict’s retelling with the sharks would have been chill-inducing.

Contrasting with my complaint about weak consequences for the Magnussen incident, perhaps I’m supposed to take it that this episode was Mary’s consequences. I wonder if we’ll see Sherlock’s consequences in episode 2 and John’s in episode 3 (or vice versa)? Or, the ensembles (Hudders & co) in 2, and Sherlock & John’s in episode 3? I know it’s a three-part story arc so I hope we’ll see something. Sharks in the river, I’ll get my fishing pole!

Lastly, the “NO WAY” moment that the press reported - which even was it?

- Vivian "Ice Lolly” Norbury as the double agent?

- Mary jumping in?

- Sherlock at therapy?

I seriously couldn’t tell. Again, does that me good at watching television, or bad?!

#sherlock #t6t #tst #s4 #review #speculation #clueing for looks #rewatch #writing #bbc sherlock

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