#I still think that's not a real thing. like. people just. wake up? and feel? better and less tired? nah that's made up đŹ
Map of the World
1145 Words / CW: Nudity, sex
The day has not yet dawned, but everything in the room has barely started to take shape, gauzy and grey. I canât see the clock. Doesnât matter; too early for the hour to have a number.Â
I remember sleepless nights when dawn was near, some vigil ending but the day not yet begun. I remember nights without dreams, my sleep a solid and unbroken place between days.Â
I open my eyes, your warm presence reminding me that this is real, this is my life.Â
Youâre still asleep, but you wonât be for long. People who know you would predict youâre a restless sleeper, tearing the sheets from their moorings, stealing the blankets. Youâre not. When you sleep, itâs quiet, deliberate, deep. A trip into a Night Palace, perhaps.Â
You donât move when I touch you, still deep enough that you donât register my hands. I adore your hands. Youâve deduced this, I know. Long, thin fingers, sensitive, artistic. Violinistâs hands.Â
But thereâs a place on your body where my hands always go, my favourite part of you. Iâve never said, but since the first time, I think youâve known. Touch doesnât lie.Â
My hand travels lightly over the swell of your arse, finding the soft bit of skin between that and your leg. Youâre lying on your side, top leg bent, the bottom one straight, and thatâs where I find it, the soft crevasse between the gluteus maximus and the biceps femoris.Â
I could live in that tender spot.Â
You sigh now and begin turning into me, settling your head against my shoulder. I wonât touch your neck yet because youâll wake as soon as I do, and I havenât finished my exploration.
Soon Iâll roam the canvas of your back, feel the smooth, raised marks that are reminders of your two years away. These are the sigils that spelled the end of that journey and brought you back to me. Theyâve faded to silvery-pink, and to me they are beautiful, a sacrifice you made out of love. You donât walk around in a sheet these days, showing them off, but I know what they mean.
I find the scar on your chest, the one that nearly took you away from me again. Itâs deceptively small, just a white pockmark now, barely able to be seen unless youâre looking for it. I donât need a map to find it; my finger goes right to it. I touch it lightly, with reverence, knowing that you would have given your life for me to be happy.Â
I wouldnât have been; we both know that now.
Mapping each ridge of your ribcage, I feel your heart beating beneath.
Clothed, you donât appear muscular, but your strength is here, in these long, lean limbs and the planes of your abdomen. The first time you hugged me, you were at your lowest peak, physically. Youâd been shot, barely recovered, and then plunged yourself into drugs, wearing yourself so thin that it shocked me. I was angry, confused, distraught.Â
When your arms went around me in comfort, I felt your strength. You were not frail. I did not doubt that youâd been using yourself up, abusing your transport in ways I hated, but you still felt solid, strong enough to catch me before I fell into despair. The weeks beforeâthe drugs and the madnessâwere not a deception, but youâd been careful to hold back enough strength for when you would need it. Either I would save you, or you would save me.Â
I think we saved each other.
You sigh, a barely-felt susurration against my neck. Avoiding your neck, I let my fingers travel to your nape, into the curls there. Your hair will look like a birdâs nest when you get out of bed, and that will be partly my fault. I love seeing you sleep-tousled, disheveled. For everyone else, youâre carefully put together; in disarray, youâre mine alone.Â
Your hand rests on my shoulder, over my scar. An ugly thing, Iâve always felt, and difficult to hide because of its size. My country branded me a hero and sent me home. I didnât feel like a hero; I hated my scar, the way my hand shook, and the perplexing limp that defied explanation.Â
That day in the lab, I was invalid, a broken man trying to return to some sort of life. You were able to read my entire history in one look, and I felt embarrassed.
It was only years later, when we lay in bed and you traced my scar with gentle fingers, that you told me what it meant to you: Without this scar, you would not be mine. We would never have met. You might have died in another battle and never returned. Or you would have returned a different person, with more possibilities. That you returned as you did, a man who needed a flatmate, brought us together that day. The rest is history, as they say.Â
Your eyes are open now, blinking in the pale early light. We are shadows here, a land before the dawn. Your hand reaches below, finding my eager cock. I touch all the hidden places, the soft skin of your bollocks, the swell of your muscles as you tense. Youâre wide awake now, quietly watching my reactions. Patient now, soon youâll be pleading, insistent.Â
I kiss the smile that is curving your lips and, begin my journey below your jawline, down your neck. My hands are around you now, exploring.Â
There are no words yet, none needed. We move together, the rustle of the sheets the only sound. Our bodies know one another. We read the signs: breath quickening, pheromones unloosed, flesh growing erect.Â
We move. You once taught me to dance, telling me that it was all about reading your partner. This dance, we learned together, whispering under the sheets: Is this all right? Do you wantâ? Oh, God, yes! More!Â
Itâs early, and weâre both too impatient to lengthen this intimacy. I take us together in my hand, slick from sweat and semen, and you stretch out, gloriously pressing into the touch. Seeing you like this always burns me to the ground, lays waste my body. You shudder, and I no longer hold back.Â
The sun rises, the room is lit gold.Â
The sheets are already cooling as we lie heavy in our sweaty embrace. There will be more, when weâre awake, and it will be different, another journey across well-loved terrain.Â
And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.
â John Donne, The Good Morrow
---
And here we are, the final day of May Prompts 2024! Thank you all for reading and for leaving wonderful comments. It's been so much fun. đ
My final story was going to be a sequel to His Favourite Jumper but that story outgrew the category of "ficlet" and will be posted separately tomorrow on AO3. There will be socks! And Sherlock returns!
My entire collection of May ficlets can be found here: Trifles 3.
The May Prompts 2024 Collection (all authors who have submitted stories) can be found on AO3 here.
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Mai and Humanity in Autonomy (Mai Character Analysis)
I think Mai Tsurugi is a character who has a lot to her and while I know she is talked about a bit I think she should be talked about more because she is a truly fantastic character and I hope this post gets you to start thinking about how and why!!
To understand Maiâs character I think it's important to talk about a major theme in 3-1. Obviously at its core Chapter 3 Part 1 is about what makes something human, and its shown through each of the dummies, each encompassing a different aspect of humanity, and for Mai this is the humanity of being able to make your own choices.
And this is made extremely clear during one major point in 3-1 where Ranmaru gives a speech about how humanity is about making your own choices after Keiji gets locked in a coffin.Â
And throughout the chapter Mai ends up emboding everything that Ranmaru and this scene is trying to say.
In this speech Ranmaru states that being human is about making your own choices, something that's a constant struggle for Maiâs character, but also something she ends up learning throughout the chapter and finally proving her humanity through it.
and Mai is the one who by far encapsulates this the most throughout 3-1, ironic considering how she is also the only one who didnât get to hear the speech on account of being unconscious.
When we first meet Mai itâs as a doll during the Murderer Game, the subgame in which the survivors must kill Midori in order to proceed however the dolls instead have a different objective. As a doll Mai is told she must kill her partner (in this case being Q-taro) if she wants to survive. Here she starts off as someone unable to make her own choices and that's shown off almost immediately when Mai ends up being the first doll to play into Midori's hands and try to kill their partner, it's a choice that was set up for her, not something she chose herself but rather it's just her playing along with Midori's puppet show. However, after she wakes from being knocked out by Qtaro we see the first signs of her breaking from that.
When she wakes up, we see the aftermath of her choice from her perspective, and she regrets it, not from a regret of her betrayal but because of her failure.
If Sara tells her âyouâre awakeâŠâ sheâll say
Its only when Qtaro decides to forgive that she finally regrets her actions
And Qtaro tells her that this doesnât mean anything, as he claims he would have done the same, and the only thing that stopped him was that he was never given the opportunity.
The only thing stopping him was the lack of a choice in the matter, mirroring how the only thing pushing Mai is the looming threat that if she doesnât kill she dies. Both given only having one real choice presented to them.Â
Q-taro even said as much right after Mai stabbed him.
Q-taro calls out the lack of choice the dummies have in the matter, and makes it clear that its Midori who has control over them. Forcing them to play along with his puppet show.
Once Mai is awake it's from this point forward where we see more of who she really is, rather than the cutesy persona she put on before, and that's shown through her actions.Â
As a first step towards reconciliation Mai steps up to take Qtaro off Yabusameâs hands and let him lean on her instead. (and if Anzu died Gin will tell Mai that they can take turns if she gets tired, to which she thanks Gin)
The next scene I want to talk about is when Hinako asks the dummies how they plan on surviving with both the humans and the dummies intact. If Anzu and Hayasaka both died earlier Mai will step up to fight back against Hinako and Kurumadaâs reluctance.
Rather than speaking from a reluctance to kill such kind people like Anzu or Hayasaka, she argues from experience. She canât say she couldnât kill them, but she still doesnât want her allies to feel the same feeling she did, even if she would have to stop them herself
Finally when Maple starts going on a rampage she decides to risk her life to stay behind and protect Qtaro. Interestingly she also is required to beat the Maple fight as she is the one who reads Mapleâs instruction manual and figures out what must be done, which leads into the connection Mai and Maple have in their arcs.
Speaking of, during Keijiâs POV section, Mai and Qtaro hide in the coffins to get away from Maple until theyâre unlocked and they are able to save Keiji. Qtaro gets the idea to shut off the elevators to stop Maple from being able to get to the 5th floor after the others. Maple then stumbles in and collapses, starting another scene which highlights the connection Mai and Maple have.
And she explains that her goal as an obstructor was to kill Midori, however there was something that stood in the way of that.
Maple regrets the terrible things she did to everyone but Mai tells her it's because the cast took the ID card from her. Maple tells her that it was because she was programmed into loving Midori, that even this love wasnât her choice and ultimately relegates her to a âgimmickâ, robbing her of her autonomy, a similar situation as to what happened with Mai.
During the Murderer game Mai alongside the rest of the dummies are reduced to gimmicks, to the point that unlocking the first level of âgimmick securityâ lets you see information on the dummies and their collars,
and unlocking the second level causes the victim videos of the dummies to play, ending with a video of what happened as they woke up. Its clear that, to Midori and Asunaro at least, the dummies are simply gimmicks for the Murderer Game.
And this is shown again when Maple explains the true meaning of the âMurderer gameâ, and how they were pushed into thinking that killing the survivors was their only choice, despite that not being the case.
However Mai doubts it at first, saying
She wonders if Asunaro would even charge them if their battery runs out, she then insists Asunaro was planning on disposing of them from the start, and that they were just watching them struggle helplessly.
Until Qtaro speaks up to make a promise to Mai,
Through the Banquet and Qtaroâs promise a new path opens up, one paved through the bonds between the humans and the dolls. A new choice was created, a choice they made themselves, separate from the âthe human lives or the doll livesâ dichotomy they were fed before. And with Maiâs help, alongside Qtaro and Keiji, this choice became an actual possibility.Â
Once Keiji leaves to charge the Midori dollâs head Mai and Qtaro stay behind and they end up enacting their own plan to help everyone during the banquet. Qtaro lays down in Keijiâs coffin, taking his death into his own hands, in a way alleviating the blame from Mai for her actions, and opening up a new possibility for the dummies with the banquet. Mai still cries out that it's her fault. However the death now has a purpose, has a reason past Maiâs mistake, and it changes the death from one done by a lack of choice, to one that opens up new choices from a lot more people.
From here Mai is alone, with Keiji on the 5th floor and Qtaro gone, she is the only one who is left that knows about the plan, and the only one at all who knows about Qtaro. From here she walks her own path, obtains the ID card from Sara and starts to boot up the Qtaro AI into the doll. Soon an announcement from âKeijiâ calling for Sara occurs and Mai tries to push everyone to go with her, likely to make sure Keiji isnât spotted on the way down, but Sara charges on alone regardless, leaving Mai alongside the rest of the others, and with no Keiji in sight.
She then later meets up with Sara alongside the others and a new Q-taro doll in the classroom after Sara awakens from being stunned.
Very quickly I want to call attention to a scene in the Logic route after Ranmaru kills Yabusame.
After Ranmaru claims that this is the only way left to save Sara, Hinako calls him out on wanting to save himself, causing him to retaliate by asking when she decided to side with them. Hinako, shocked, doesn't manage to reply, but Mai steps in to tell Ranmaru that no one would side with him.
In a way Ranmaru in the Logic Route is the exact opposite of what Mai is striving for. Just the same as her, he killed someone to survive, and while she wouldnât know that Ranmaru was pushed into this choice by Saraâs words, similar to what Midori did to Mai, there is a large difference in the fact that Ranmaruâs goal includes killing everyone to save himself and Sara but even past that he revels in what he did as the right choice, mirroring Maiâs almost immediate regret at her actions. Even the way she specifically kills her partner while Ranmaru's goal is to kill everyone EXCEPT his partner adds to this.
Right afterwards the fight against Maple 2.0 happens, and there are a couple moments I want to discuss on how they pertain to this theme of making your own choices shared between the two.
Firstly, Mapleâs first attack.
But, despite her own thoughtsâŠ
Here Maple is stuck following orders, and Mai understands that, she tries to tell her to be strong. However this doesnât end up working out and Maple throws her first attack of the fight, regardless of what she truly thinks.
Next, Maiâs early death.
Mai ends up dying due to Mapleâs lack of autonomy in her own actions, and Midori mocks her in that, asking her âYou fine with that MapleâŠ?â despite knowing he has her wrapped around his finger. The way Mai dies is in a way she personally could relate to, and relates to her final apology to Q-taro.
In both examples Maple is trapped by her programming in the same way Mai was trapped by the knowledge that she must kill to survive, but Maple shows something important with her final moments.
As she is about to die she breaks from Midoriâs control on her and uses this chance to die alongside him, thanking everyone and saying she has âfinally woken upâ if Mai lived or denying Midoriâs reward if she died instead.Â
When she finally catches up to him Midori in a last ditch effort tells Maple that he loves her, trying to abuse the programming placed into her, and Sara has 3 possible responses she can give.
âHeâs lyingâ and âHurry up and finish himâ both leading him to restate the sentiment that he loves her, but this time Maple isnât led astray and affirms that she wonât believe him.
And if Sara says âDonât kill himâ she continues to lead her own decision stating that she will herself.
However despite this her body fails and she isnât able to kill him. In the Logic Route, if Ranmaru is still alive, this is specifically caused by Ranmaru shocking her with his stun gun finger, adding another layer to my earlier point on how he is the opposite of Mai with him denying Mapleâs own final action. Notably Mai sits down next to Mapleâs corpse during the pre-banquet.
Despite this However Mapleâs attack showed us cracks in Midoriâs facade, cracks that will eventually break him. Mapleâs actions here are the first step to breaking Midori and truly winning.
And this is shown in full force during the banquet with Maiâs decision, but before that I want to talk about a scene that occurs beforehand.
When the possibility of a human being a part of the dummies is brought into question, the realisation that Mai isnât the exact same as her doll comes to light. Eventually this leads to the horrible truth that Maiâs hands arenât actually her hands at all, but rather Midoriâs human hands. In a way this is the physical manifestation that Maiâs actions werenât by her own hands, but rather she was a tool for Midori, playing along with his puppet show. (and yet another mirror to Ranmaru who also had a scene focusing on his hands earlier in the chapter.)
Upon this reveal Mai swears sheâll kill Midori, something missing from Qtaroâs words if she died, instead his resolve is shaken, wondering if theyâll even be able to beat a guy like him. And this leads to the epitome of her arc, the third hint.
When Sara is forced to pick a red coffin she is afraid to make the choice in fear that her logic isnât even correct. This is where Mai steps in to tell her to pick a red coffin so she can win.
Mai encompasses Ranmaruâs words from the start of the chapter, no longer too scared to die that she canât even resist Midoriâs hold on her, but proving her humanity by taking her life into her own hands to stand up against Midori, to claim her autonomy, because that's what separates a human from a tool. She quite literally made her own choice with the Banquet, allowing both the humans and the dolls an opportunity to make it through together, a possibility opened through the bonds between the humans and dolls, Qtaro and Mai being at the forefront of that.
Now Mai is willingly telling Sara to choose a coffin, even if its at the cost of her life. She isnât going to allow Midori control over anyone again. The Mai we see before us here is so different from the at the start of the chapter, one who was too afraid to fight back and make and descision for herself. And even as far back as her victim video where she couldnât even make a choice between which gun she needs to pick,and died as a result of her panicked state, where she shot the wrong gun. The through line of guns being present in both scenarios also adds to this aspect.
Mai proves humanity through actions, because being human means being able to make your own choices, something both Mai and Maple struggled with at first, but also something they ended up demonstrating over the chapter. They proved their humanity by not letting their actions be decided by another, to not be treated like a tool. Because being human means being able to have autonomy in your actions and Mai proved without a doubt that she is human, despite the physical aspect of being a doll. Because while a doll canât move, talk or feel without someone forcing it, it's nothing but expected for a human.
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WOOO MAI ANALYSIS DONE!!! only one dummie left!!! hopefully soon???
Also kinda a Maple analysis by mistake LOL hopefully that's okay lmao, the characters are majorly linked to each other so it didn't feel right to just omit her
But yeah hopefully you enjoyed this and it got you to think about Mai and Maple a bit more as characters, if you liked this and its the first one you've seen then I've got more analyses like these on my blog
and of course its not lost on me the fact that its the 2 women dolls that have an arc about their autonomy, and I love how it falls into YTTD's themes of gendered power as a whole
And as of the day I'm releasing this HAPPY ANNIVERSARY 3-1B!!! The best chapter! I hope this counts as a good enough anniversary post lol, the dummies are a major part of 3-1 after all! I'm happy to give more 3-1 content to the world!
As for now though, I hope you enjoyed and see you next time for my Hinako analysis!!!
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soften me now, let me take as is given (xviii)
billie dean howard x reader
summary: You meet Billie in mourning. She's too professional, and you're too angry, and it takes too long to see her again. And again. And again as your lives tumble together.
w/c: 2.9k
taglist: unsure! let me know if you're still interested
chapter one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen
notes: hi! i've actually had this chapter and most of the next chapter written for a long time and never posted them. not sure why, but i'm going to get 19 posted in a couple days just because i can and should. can't make any promises, but this story lives in my head still. so i want to finish it. to whoever reads this, thank you! and i hope you enjoy :)
warnings: discussion of cancer
The last few weeks, Billie thinks, have been oversaturated with you. Like a movie screen with the vibrancy up so high it hurts her eyes, makes her dream in colors that donât exist. Itâs terrible. And Billie just canât stop, doesnât have the willpower to grab onto something steady, something real to stop the spinning. Sheâs sick with you, absolutely run down and overwhelmed by your warmth and gratitude and patience and humor. God, you can make her laugh. Harder than she has in years. It scares her half to death sometimes when she looks at you and wonders. Not just about brushing your hair back for you or sliding a hand tight around your waist or kissing your soft, lovely lips. But about waking up next to you, getting to see you bathed in a soft morning light, knowing how you take your coffee and making it for you every morning. Billie finds herself wanting something much softer and more tender with you than sheâs allowed herself to have in a long time. She wants to love you.Â
The last time she took you out to dinner, it was at some swanky bistro in West Hollywood. And as soon as you noticed that they didnât post the prices on the menu, you blushed and set it down.Â
âBillie, I canât afford this,â you admit with considerable difficulty and humiliation, your cheeks tinging red in the candlelight. Billie forces down a blissful, hazy grin and reaches over, covering your hand with hers.Â
âDarling, Iâm taking you out to dinner. I donât expect you to pay.â Your cheeks flush darker at the term of endearment, and you swallow, pulling your hand away and down into your lap.Â
âThis is too much,â you breathe, and Billieâs eyes search yours, her smile flickering and fading, trying to hide her panic.Â
âDid I overstep?â Sheâs been worried, endlessly it seems, about stepping too carelessly into romance and getting burned, about making it awkward and uncomfortable. Billie doesnât think she could stand that, not with you. Theyâve worked too hard to be friends to then get lost in some terrible unrequited crush. Fiddling with your napkin, your jaw tightens momentarily before you look back at Billie.Â
âNo, youâre notâŠâ you take a breath. âYouâre not overstepping. Iâm just not used to being paid for. I donât want to owe you anything.âÂ
âYou could never,â Billie says, brow furrowed because the idea itself is ridiculous. It takes a minute for you to accept that, but as soon as Billie sees it on your face, she smiles, soft and easy. âUnfortunately, Iâm rather fond of you. Itâs what I do for people I like.âÂ
âBuy them things?â you ask, a hint of amusement creeping in. Billie chuckles, resting her elbow on the table, her chin on her knuckles.Â
âSpoil them,â she allows herself to say, eyes sparkling in the low, warm light. Your eyes lock with hers in surprise, and then you swallow.Â
âYou are not the same Billie Dean Howard I met on my front porch,â you say with a shake of your head. âI feel like Iâm constantly uncovering a little bit more of you.â Your voice begs a question Billie isnât sure how to answer. She feels like any explanation might give too much away. She helped you when you were nothing but cruel to her. She bought your house. She was so patient with you, and you with her. And now youâre here, and sheâs spoiling you the way she does with the people who steal her affections. Billie swallows, resting her hands back in her lap.Â
âIâm sorry itâs taken so long. Iâm not an easy person to get to know.âÂ
âPlease donât apologize,â you chuckle, shifting forward. âI promise you I understand. Besides, itâs kinda exciting.âÂ
âExciting?â Billie drones, looking at you over her lashes.Â
âYesâ you laugh. âIâm never bored.â Billie huffs out a laugh and rolls her eyes.Â
âIâm glad Iâm so entertaining for you.â You grin, biting your lip, and your eyes are shining in the candlelight, and Billie wants to kiss you.Â
Later in the night, after Billie steals the check from you before you can look at it and youâre walking to your cars arm in arm, you lean your head on her shoulder. Billie stiffens.Â
âMaybe next time, we can start talking about the really deep stuff. Like your favorite color.â Billie lets herself grin, chest tight, and rests her cheek against your head.Â
âItâs taupe,â she mumbles, and your head shoots up from her shoulder, horrified and disbelieving.Â
âYouâre kidding.âÂ
âYes, Iâm kidding,â she chuckles, and you press a hand to your heart in relief. âItâs green.âÂ
âGreen,â you echo, resting your head back down, your steps falling in line.
âLike spanish moss,â Billie offers, and you hum.Â
âThatâs oddly specific.âÂ
âThereâs not much that I miss about my childhood,â Billie breathes. âBut climbing all the big oak trees and watching the spanish moss sway in the breeze wasâŠâ You lift your head, turning to watch Billieâs furrowed brow and faraway eyes. âIt was a nice escape.âÂ
âEscape from what?â you ask quietly, and Billie swallows, giving you a brief, tight smile. You give her one back, but itâs sadder, more careful, and then youâre leaning in, squeezing Billieâs arm, your thumb across her bicep. Itâs a little thing, a small comfort, but it means the world to her. And sheâs afraid to look up at you. Afraid she might kiss you.Â
âThank you for coming to dinner with me,â she says, mustering the restraint to meet your eyes. Your arm tightens in Billieâs, and youâre smiling.Â
âThank you for agreeing to come to Norahâs birthday party.â Billie exhales the tightness in her chest. âItâs this Saturday. Donât forget.âÂ
âI wouldnât miss it,â she says, and itâs the truth. An opportunity to see you in any context was something she couldnât ever pass up. Then you pull her into a hug, tight and warm, and Billie closes her eyes against you, fingers splayed across your back. âGoodnight, Y/N.âÂ
âNight, Billie.âÂ
. . .Â
Billieâs curled up on her couch the night before Norahâs party in satin pajamas. Thereâs a steaming cup of tea on her end table and a book nestled in her lap. Sheâs startled by the sound of her phone ringing but even more startled to see whoâs calling. With a deep, settling breath, she dog ears her book and sets it down next to her tea.Â
âHi dad,â she breathes.Â
âGood to hear your voice, honey bunches,â he says, that southern twang drawn and tired. She checks the time. South Carolina is four hours ahead of Los Angeles which would make it two in the morning there. Something surges up within her, choked and panicky.Â
âWhat happened?â He lets out a strained chuckle, and she can picture him scrubbing his fingers across his scruffy jaw.Â
âYâknow how your mamaâs had that cough.â
âNo,â Billie shoots back. âI didnât know.â Her father hums.Â
âMusta been Jamie I was talkinâ to then,â he offers. âYour brother actually calls home to check in every once anâa while.âÂ
âDad,â Billie groans, pressing her fingers into her temple. âPlease just tell me what happened.âÂ
âShe started up that coughing. Couldnât catch her breath. I pat her back, gave her water,â he sighs, pausing. âThere was blood in it, Billie. Curlinâ down like smoke. Anâ she just looks up at me with a face I ainât seen since you up and left. Resigned and so hard. Then she swallows and licks those lips and says, James, get my coat.â The silence on the line is deafening, and Billie numbly registers her ears ringing. âSo here we are, Hoffman-Strauss Memorial.â
Billieâs throat is thick, and she blinks once then twice, chest tight.Â
âOkay.â Her voice is hoarse. She swallows. âHave you seen a doctor yet?âÂ
âJust a room. Your mamaâs sleepinâ. Sheâs scheduled for a CT at 8.âÂ
âAnd Jamie knows?â He hums.Â
âSheâs too proud to say it, but she wants you to call her.â Billie scoffs, holding her hand over her eyes as she shakes her head.
âThe only thing she wants to hear from me is that Iâm leaving Hollywood,â she says, suddenly so weary.Â
âSet it aside, Billie Dean. Just for a minute,â he tells her, harder this time, with less give. Her shoulders deflate, and she swallows, looking down into her lap. âI love you.âÂ
âLove you, dad.â When she hangs up, the world feels like itâs tilted on its axis. The last time she spoke to her mother, Billieâs face had been in the tabloids, her name spoken like a disgraced Hollywood starlet. Out of all the things her motherâs ever said to her, that phone call was relatively tame. It was expected, usual. The guilt, the shaming, the moral superiority. And now sheâs coughing blood. Some might call that divine intervention. Absently, Billie laughs. Itâs a weak chuckle, but it grows. And as it does, Billieâs chest seizes up. She laughs and laughs, but thereâs a growing pit in her chest, and sheâs starting to feel hysterical. She just canât stop. And then the laughter turns gasping, and she canât breathe. And my god, the hardest woman in America is coughing blood. She is a human being. Delicate and fallible.Â
Billie presses her palms into her eyes. âFuck. Fuck.âÂ
She remembers pressing a wet cloth to the back of your neck when you broke down over Kate, and Billie tries to treat herself with the same patience, the same kindness. What do you need right now? Slowly, she forces her breathing to slow, shuts out everything but the in and out of her breath and the occasional flash of your smile in her mindâs eye, your gentle hands on her arms. Jamie. She hasnât spoken to him since his birthday. He reminds her too much of her childhood, so she tries to stay away. Not tonight. Her heart is pounding when she presses call, and she feels lightheaded, but she forces herself to stay on the line as it rings.Â
âDad called you too, huh?â he asks when the phone connects, and immediately her breathing evens and slows.Â
âYeah,â she says quietly as the world stops spinning around her.Â
âTakes a lot for you to reach out. The news mustâve rattled you.âÂ
âIâm fine,â she says immediately, rubbing circles in her chest. He scoffs, and she closes her eyes. He hasnât lost his accent, but itâs weaker now, stilted. Though his voice hasnât changed, that richness, that unwavering steadiness is still there.Â
âAlright. Goodnight, then.âÂ
âWait,â Billie starts, and she hears him settle and exhale. âIâm sorry. I just donât knowâŠâ she scoffs and shakes her head.Â
âI know,â he says, low and even. Thereâs a thick silence between them, and Billie remembers his hair, brown and unruly. She always used to ruffle it. She wonders how he styles it now. Is it shorter? How does his wife like it? Does she like that scruff he refuses to shave? Or does he shave it now? Theyâre little things, she knows, inconsequential really. But itâs the missing she canât let go of now. The disconnect.Â
âHow are you?â she asks finally, and he chuckles.Â
âIâm alright. Business is tightening with the economy, but weâre fine. Addisonâs still with her firm. Could be making partner next year.âÂ
âThatâs great, Jamie, really,â she says with a smile. He doesnât respond right away.Â
âHow are you? I saw the magazines.â Her blood runs cold. âCome on, Bill, I know mom ragged you on it.â Jamieâs known sheâs a lesbian since high school when he caught her kissing her best friend against the shed one hot summer afternoon. Feeling bitter, Billie stands up.Â
âIâm used to her bullshit,â she says, grabbing her cigarettes and stepping onto her balcony. When she lights one, itâs an immediate relief. âThe press? Not as much,â she admits.Â
âWhatâs it like beinâ a Hollywood hotshot?â he asks, a laugh in his voice. She takes a deep drag, shaking her head.
âI try not to acknowledge it,â she admits.Â
âMe and Addieâve been watching your show.â She taps ash over her balcony and clenches her jaw. âDonât get like that,â he drones without ever seeing her face. âItâs good. Really good.âÂ
âYou never used to think it was good,â she says, embarrassed and maybe too bitter. Jamie always stood around a corner and watched when their mother would yell at her, tell her to stop that. Itâs not right. As if she had any choice in the matter. As if she wanted to see the dead roaming her house on a Saturday afternoon. She was so alone. And then Jamie would look at her with those big, shameful eyes and turn away to go play with his friends, knees muddy and bruised. Jamie takes a breath on the other line.Â
âYou really think I had a say in it, Billie Dean?âÂ
âNo,â she replies quickly and then sighs. âNo, I donât,â she adds, softer. âBut you could haveâŠâ she trails off, rebellious tears welling in her eyes. She takes another long drag, trying to will them away. âLater, you could haveâŠâÂ
âYou mean later when you moved out and didnât talk to any of us for five years? Or do you mean later when you sent me a Christmas card and spelled Addieâs name wrong.â Billie blushes fiercely, jaw clenched as she looks down, looks away as if Jamieâs staring right at her right now. âI know that your experiences with mom were a lot different than mine, but I ainât the enemy.â She takes a long drag as she looks out at the skyline. She knows heâs right, but she doesnât know how to let her body know that.Â
âIâm sorry,â she finally admits, blowing smoke into the warm breeze.Â
âIâm sorry too.â Theyâre both silent for a long time. âListen, Billie. Iâm tired. Iâm driving in tomorrow. Iâll call you with news, alright?âÂ
âAlright,â she says, quiet as she looks down at her feet.Â
âTry to get some sleep,â he says before the call disconnects.Â
. . .Â
When the sun comes up, Billieâs neck deep in a scientific journal about lung cancer. Her eyes are red, and her tea is long since cold, and her brow feels permanently furrowed, lips sealed in a hard line. Itâs 6:30 when she finally turns her neck in another direction, peels her laptop from her skin, and licks her chapped lips. Her whole body is buzzing and achy, and she swallows, sending a vague text to cancel her things for the day. And then she drags herself to bed and sleeps so fitfully she could barely call it sleep.Â
She only wakes up at noon to the sound of her phone ringing. Bleary and dazed, she pulls it toward her, hair across her face.Â
âHello?â she mumbles.Â
âTheyâre gonna do some more tests, butâŠâ Jamie sighs, and Billie feels electricity shoot through her in an icy, terrible jolt.Â
âItâs cancer,â she says, cold and empty.Â
âIs it surprising?â Jamie chuckles wearily, âshe smokes like a chimney.â Billieâs stomach flips and a rush of dizziness takes over.Â
âNow what?âÂ
âI donât know.âÂ
. . .Â
Billie doesnât know what to wear to a party like this, but she does have more than enough black for a funeral. Stop. Stop it. Billie wants to scrub her mind clean with a brillo pad. Her chest clenches, and she closes her eyes, willing away the intrusive thoughts that want to swallow her whole. She doesnât even know what to feel. All she can manage is panic and avoidance. Itâs something to deal with later. Not now. Please, not now. Sheâll have to make the trip down south. She knows this. Itâs inevitable. Christ.Â
Instead of digging through her closet, hair still wet after her shower, she walks to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of bourbon. Sheâs going to a party in two hours. Isnât that what one does? Drink beforehand?Â
. . .Â
âAndyâs not coming,â you announce when you enter Norahâs apartment with several grocery bags full of various liquors.Â
âWhat?â Norah asks, poking her head out from the kitchen. Sheâs unpackaging red solo cups, both shot glass and full size.Â
âWe had a fight.âÂ
âUh oh,â she intones, âwhat happened?â You sigh, setting down the bags on her dining room table.Â
âI told her I didnât want her at the party.â Norah raises her brow, pressing a hand to her hip patiently.Â
âIs everything okay?â You donât know how to answer that. The excuse you gave Andy was some story about how you always attended Norahâs parties with Kate, and you didnât want to feel like youâre replacing her this year, and it was thin and unbelievable even to Andy.Â
âIâm pushing her away,â you finally admit, eyes squeezed tight. When you open them, Norahâs head is tilted, her eyes soft.Â
âWhy?â she asks carefully, stepping forward, folding her arms over her chest.Â
âI think I feel trapped?â you guess, wringing your hands. âShe loves me. She hasnât said it, but I know she does. And I donât think I can love her back.âÂ
âBecause of Kate?âÂ
âPartially. I donât know. I donât wanna talk about it anymore,â you sigh, shaking your head and waving the topic away with your hands. âLetâs just get ready for this party.â Norah gives you a searing look, a hint of a smile on her lips, before continuing on. Though thereâs something in her eyes that unsettles you, something she knows that sheâs not saying. You chew your lip and try not to think about it.Â
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If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than Iâm against the world.
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Got the idea of getting a tattoo for my dad, & my sister said she'd be willing to get a matching one with me
This, of all things, has made me cry again for the first time in days
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as someone who has always had issues with sleeping, it's so strange to see how my husband can just fall asleep whenever he wants, wherever he wants. he could lie down on the ground and sleep for 8 hours, no problem.
he just goes to bed, lies down, and falls asleep. and then stays asleep until his alarm wakes him, then he gets up and is just. awake. just like that. he never remembers any of his dreams, he just sleeps. all night. uninterrupted.
it's just. very weird. I mean, I had a lot of sleepovers with friends when I was a kid, so I guess I already knew other people can just. sleep. but still, I guess I always figured it must be a coincidence that everyone else just happened to fall asleep and stay asleep on those occasions. but damn it's been 10 years of seeing this dude just sleep like it's no big deal, and I suppose that's just. how it's meant to be?! how unfair is that.
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My brain does scary things to me but it's only sometimes and sometimes it still lies but in a fun or harmless way that doesn't affect anything
Not really sure if it's all stuff everyone experiences sometimes or if it's something that if it happened a teeny bit more often would need to get treated. Idk even for what though
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we can dip if youâre ready ; satoru gojo
synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friendâs older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother youâre still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.
word count; 7.4k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friendâs brother!gojo (heâs the hottest man in the stratosphere imo), mild age gap (four years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoruâs younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (theyâre both just there to bully gojo), heâs fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once
a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear
(tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily đ„șđ„ș)
one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love youâve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.
youâre seventeen years old. in three months youâll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction â the whole world within your reach. but right now youâre still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friendâs room. listening to the sound of the nearby sea.Â
youâre seventeen, and dreaming about things you canât have. youâre seventeen, and foolishly wearing your heart on your sleeve.Â
youâre seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.
itâs early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. heâs leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, pajama pants clinging to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldnât grant you.
âyouâre more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?â
(suddenly, without mercy; a finality to his voice.)
he ruffles your hair, and youâre still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, all those years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friendâs house and crashed headfirst into his chest.
âyouâre a good kid,â he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, itâs pitying. âthere are lots of people out there for you.â
he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as itâs always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?
itâs a specific kind of torture.Â
there are lots of people out there for you.
(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.
but i want you.)
âdonât get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?â
when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking right at you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god. his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, like fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod; smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.
but he just pinches your cheek, throws a backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know heâll be home later than usual today.
then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of sugary pancakes on the kitchen table, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.
and thatâs how it ends.Â
thereâs no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now â an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though sheâs far too kind to say it outloud.
except they donât.
the moral of the story is: satoru gojo doesnât love you back. heâs known you since you were fourteen, since he was eighteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a little kid. youâre his sisterâs best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. itâs not surprising, or shocking. itâs exactly how it should be.
satoru gojo doesnât love you back. he never will.
(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)
one breezy summer evening, five years later, you step onto a bustling train platform â dragging your luggage behind you, and breathing in the scent of a familiar seaside.
above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look around, and everything feels familiar, despite the time thatâs passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers, peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades, the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.
luckily, sheâs quick to find you.Â
with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided, her yellow sundress and matching headband; sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you werenât so used to it, so used to her.
riko. your one and only best friend.
sheâs nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. sheâs warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.
with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. âi missed youuuuâŠâ
a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasnât been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other in person just about a month ago, you indulge her.
âi missed you too, riko.â
another whine, and then sheâs pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. âyou better have! donât ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?â
âyouâre still mad about that?â you match her expression, eager to protest. âitâs not my fault i got sick.â
âtoo sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?â she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. âawful. just awful!â
âdrama queen.â her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. âiâm here now, arenât i?â
âyou are,â she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards that familiar house. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. âno, but seriously. iâm really happy to see you.â her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. âi donât think iâd survive two months alone with that old man.âÂ
ah. right.
your lips curl up into a smile, albeit a little uncertain. giddy, maybe. nervous? you arenât sure. something swirls around in your stomach, little butterflies. tickling the ridges of your ribs, all those fluttering heartstrings. itâs been a while since you felt like this. all your summers are spent here, and all of rikoâs, but heâs usually too busy.
the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show sheâs been binging â itâs just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you donât think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but itâs a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb. the buzz of an old radio spills out from an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze. when you strain your eyes you think you hear humming.
riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.
itâs summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.
(and so is he.)
âwhy, hello there! if it isnât my cute little [name].â
time stills, for just a single moment.
he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. heâs wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.
a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.
he looks happy to see you.
âdonât be weird,â comes rikoâs voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while sheâs ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.
âso hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?â
then heâs turning towards you, again, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. theyâre crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. âhow was your trip?â
more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to rikoâs arm, mustering a small smile of your own.
âgood,â you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like youâre greeting an old friend; itâs been so long since you last spoke to him. âiâm tired, though.â
your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off. muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. youâre left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own. leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice. âi bet. take a nap if you need to, yeah?â
a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot. unable to properly look into his eyes.
for a second, his smile drops â eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.
then heâs moving forward, one large stride towards you, leaning down to wrap his big arms around your waist. bringing you into a hug, not as tight as you remember them being. you wonder if heâs holding back.
(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)
one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.
âi missed you, kiddo.â
a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesnât hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.
âi m-missed you too,â is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.
just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, sheâs tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can.Â
âalright, thatâs enough,â she huffs, pulling you closer. âcâmon! we should unpack your stuff right away!â
âwant me to carry it?â satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know heâs not going to listen.Â
so you let him. and within the next few minutes, youâre seated on rikoâs bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly.Â
âare you sure youâll be alright?â
you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now youâre all alone, and itâs quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves.Â
âhuh?â
âi mean, with, yâknowâŠâ she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you donât understand. âwith my brother. and your⊠condition.â
you blink.
â⊠did you just refer to my crush as a condition?â
âwell, it might as well be!â she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. âdonât think i didnât see you checking out his biceps just now. youâre so obvious.âÂ
heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. âlook â i ââ you scramble for words, brain tied up in fatigued knots. âdid you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?â
âoh, come on! thatâs all it takes?â
another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, and you gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.
âyou could really, really do better, you know?â
her voice is quiet. soft, sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know sheâs just looking out for you, that she doesnât want you pining for a guy whoâll never return those feelings â sheâs kind like that, always has been. butâŠ
â⊠i just like him.â
you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. itâs heavy, just like his.
you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating, but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament.Â
(you just like him. thatâs all there is to it.)
and she pulls herself into a sitting position.
âi know, i know,â she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. âjust donât give him more attention than me, âkay?â
you let out giggle. âwell, duh.â
she gives you a sunny grin.
âokay, good.âÂ
you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.
âwanna take a nap?â she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. âthatâs probably good. weâre going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!â
âmmâŠâ your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. âthat sounds nice.â
despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friendâs snores, or the feeling of a mattress you havenât slept on in two years â but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.
youâre older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.
(maybe thereâs a chance?)
shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.
youâll be okay.
okay, nevermind. youâre completely screwed.
âoh, there you are!â
satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.
the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm.Â
a picture-perfect summer day.
your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow rikoâs lead; sheâs wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.
more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.
heâs smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. heâs wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat.Â
(youâre about to fucking explode.)
as soon as youâre in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. âaw, look at you two!â he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. âpose for the camera, okay?â
youâre still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.
âno pictures!â
âoh, donât be like that!â he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. âyouâre gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. itâs for the memories!â
a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and youâre brought back into reality. itâs silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.
âitâs been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?âÂ
you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face â right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyesâŠÂ
suguru.Â
he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.
âhi there,â he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. âitâs been a while.â
you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. âi didnât know youâd be here too!â
he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. âme neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by. i had time to kill.â
âyou missed me.â
a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. âi saw you last week,â he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. âhow could i miss you?â
âdo you need a reason to miss your best friend?â he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. âawful. just awful.â
you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and theyâre all the same as ever. itâs like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers.Â
âthe matching shirts are cute,â you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.
suguru sighs. âthatâŠâ he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. âwasn't planned.â
said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. âheâs mad that i stole his fit,â he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.
âwell⊠you look good in it.â
at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.
âdoes he?â the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.
âoh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?â
âhandsome?â riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. âyou look like a single father down on his luck.â
âseconded,â suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. âhonestly, iâm surprised youâre wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?â
satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. âoh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?â he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. âyou know you can always just ask, suguru.â
his teasing goes ignored, but you donât miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguruâs eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.
finally, he exhales. âwell, see you later,â he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. âi should probably get going.â
âyouâre not staying?â you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.
âi am,â he reassures you. âjust gonna go fishing for a while. i thought iâd give it a try.â
âfishing?â riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. âwhat are you, fifty?â
satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent â ominous, staring into your best friendâs eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.
âwait, iâm just kidding!â she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. sheâs always had good survival instincts. âdonât put me in a headlock!â
(theyâre so stupid.Â
gosh, you missed them.)
âoh, by the way â do you want some shaved ice?â she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. âi can go get us some. what flavour do you want?â
âah, great idea!â satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. âi was just craving something sweet.â
âyouâre paying, by the way.â
ââŠâ
âso? any preference?â she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. âalright, got it. you, suguru?â
âiâm good. thanks, though.â
âokie-dokie,â she puts her palm out, facing satoru. âmoney, please.â
he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but heâs pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look.Â
âget me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.â he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. âand watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.â
she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. âiâm twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.â
âaww, donât be like that,â he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. âyouâll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i ââ
âugh, whatever.â she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. âare you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?â
âthey are! just look at suguru.â
âhey.â
you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe.Â
and, once again â you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you canât really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if youâre both ignoring the elephant in the room.Â
it still feels a little like thereâs an invisible wall between you.
heâs the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan escaping him. âwell, there they go,â he hums. âwhat do you feel like doing first?â
âummmâŠâ you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat â sunbathing with him doesnât sound so bad, thoughâŠ
lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you donât notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.
(you think your brain shuts down a little.)
his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. heâs warm, and solid, effortlessly composed â guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat â
and then heâs pulling away.
you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. heâs looking somewhere behind you, with a distinctly cold gaze. you follow his stare, craning your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.
⊠was he staring at you, or what?
when you search for satoruâs eyes again, theyâre already on you. heâs smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.
âsorry,â he chuckles. âi got paranoid.â
oh.
your skin still feels like itâs on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless. embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing. he was just looking out for you.
finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response.
âi â itâs fine.â
your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?
itâs easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until itâs reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it youâre splashing her with all youâve got, giggles filling the salty air â seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.
the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that itâs about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him?Â
you wave her off with a smile. hoping itâll come off as convincing.
so, one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street â not too long of a walk, but youâre tired, even though satoru doesnât seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.
the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. thereâs a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.
he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.
âtired?â he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening.Â
âkinda,â you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then heâs facing forward again.
âcâmon. letâs get you something from the vending machine, okay? âs just up ahead.â he pats your head, once, twice. âthatâll give you some energy.â
you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card â itâs not the same one as before. riko still has it.
and this time, youâre close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.
(your heart melts, a little.)
âcola or sprite?â
you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then youâre stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. âthis one.â
â suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.
youâre sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that youâll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.
âthere,â he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. âyouâve barely looked me in the eye today. âs gonna break my heart, yâknow.â
a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention â eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more, unable to help yourself, you see it.
that apologetic smile.
(you really are obvious, arenât you?
how embarrassing.)
silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like theyâre laughing, mocking you.
satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesnât look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if itâs out of respect or discomfort.
âstill not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?â
âŠ
something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that heâs made the first move, itâs easier to move the pieces.
âitâs not a crush,â you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. âiâm in love with you.â
a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.
â⊠you could really, really do better.â
you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. âriko said the same thing.â
a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. âoh, iâm sure.â he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. âreally, though. you should listen to her.â
something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.
âiâm too old for you, for one.â he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like youâre being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.
âyouâre four years older.â a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. âand weâre both adults.â
he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. âiâm pushing thirty, yâknow?â
you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet.Â
âi know.â a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. âi canât control how i feel, though.â
âŠ
âyeah,â he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. âi know.â
a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.
âhey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?â he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. âi know some cute guys. and girls, if thatâs your thing.â
your answer is instantaneous.
âiâll pass.â
âŠ
another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it drips with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but thereâs still something fond there. unmistakable.
âfine, fine. just⊠think about it. okay?â his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair gently. that comforting weight. âcâmon, letâs go back. ririâs making dinner tonight.â
and then heâs taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.
deep down, you know itâs true. thereâs no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, youâll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her.Â
heâll never quite see you the way youâd like him to.
(but, then again, isnât that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)
satoru is a good guy. thatâs why you canât help but adore him, despite everything. canât help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up.
it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they arenât reciprocated. even if youâre completely delusional, and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.
you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. youâve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how heâll react.
âsatoru,â you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. âcan i have a piggyback ride?â
the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds.Â
and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then heâs beckoning you closer with a chuckle.
âyeah? now youâre suddenly all brave?â he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. âor are you really that exhausted?â
he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up like itâs nothing. making sure youâre comfortable.
heâs strong. very strong. the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.
and you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. itâs a little bit distracting.
ââ remember?â
a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. âhuh?â
âyou falling asleep on me?â he chuckles, walking forward. one step after another, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. âi was saying â how i remember doing this back then.â
you tilt your head.
âwhen you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually. some park?â
â... oh.â when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. âyeah, i remember.â
satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. âafter that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!â his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. âso childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.â
a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.
âdonât tell her, okay? but, see â i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,â he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. âsuguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.â
âŠ
âwe almost got arrested once.â
you canât help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those printed white flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. âyou did that just âcause you were embarrassed?â
âno,â he murmurs, softly, the slightest shake of his head. âbecause i wanted to be prepared. in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or somethingâŠâ a sheepish little chuckle. âi wanted to be able to carry you both back.â
satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, youâre sure. even if you canât see it.
âyouâre both precious to me,â he says, making sure to keep a steady hold around your legs. âthatâs why i donât want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy.â
silence. then, a displeased huff.
â⊠youâre not some random guy, if thatâs what youâre implying.â
âwell, of course not. iâm the guy,â he stands a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. âbut iâm not a very good person.â
you blink.
silence fills the open air.
he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like itâs just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isnât even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet.
that satoru isnât a good person?
(how could he ever, ever think that?)
âyou are.â
a low hum buzzes in his throat, absentminded. youâre not sure he hears you. if he does, he simply doesnât care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes â you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.
the only thing you can do is â
âsatoru.â
another little hum. acknowledging, this time.Â
âdo you⊠i mean,â you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. âis there really no chance⊠youâll ever feel the same? none at all?â
âŠ
a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think. more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way youâve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.
âafter all that,â he mutters, âyouâre still asking?â
a momentâs pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have.Â
finally, he parts his lips.
âwell,â comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. âmaybe in a couple decades or so.â
you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isnât lost on you.Â
â⊠okay.â
a pause. then heâs barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking. you tighten your grip around them. âokay?â he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. âcanât you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?â
a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. âi donât mind,â you whisper, choking down a yawn. and you mean it. âiâve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isnât too bad.â
silence, again. you wonder what heâs thinking. you wonder if youâll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, oxygen spilling out.
(you think itâs a start.)
âhas anyone ever told you that youâre awfully stubborn?â
youâre quick to nod, forehead nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. âriko tells me all the time.â
âdoes she?â thereâs silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. âthatâs good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.â
heâs teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoruâs back is warm. his voice is set to a melodic lilt, and you feel strangely tempted to close your eyes.Â
and you adore him again.Â
right â loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasnât an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.
because heâs beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because itâs his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if theyâre completely meaningless in the long run.
satoru is right, and so is riko. youâre stubborn, terribly so â if only you could see that as a bad thing.
if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.
unlike the siblings and their overgrown backyard, you just canât seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom. just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. itâs fine if it withers away, too. at least itâll give way to better soil.
you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. thatâs all.
âbut promise youâll go with me to that mixer, okay?â his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. unrelenting. âiâll find you someone whoâll get your mind off lil olâ me.â
ah. thatâs right.Â
(youâre terribly, horribly stubborn â
and satoru is too.)
you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you. what theyâll be like. whereâs the fun in a certain future?
âfine,â you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. âdo your worst.â
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i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.
i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.
what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.
so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.
and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.
and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.
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đThings Iâve learned about Shifting đ
1. Background noise doesnât matter. I come from a Hispanic family household and let me tell you hun itâs freaking loud as hell. Itâs like a zoo lol but guess what? I still shifted. At some point you will start to feel your CR kinda âfade awayâ. I have been in this state where I am in between my CR and DR. I can hear background noise from my CR but I still feel like Iâm in a different room or I hear sounds from my DR as well. Has anyone experienced this?? Let me know, Iâm curious đ€š
2. Have patience. Allow yourself to relax and naturally connect to your DR. Donât stress about having random thoughts or having an itch or things like that. Have patience with yourself like seriously you got this babe. Sometimes for me itâs feels like itâs takes 1 or 2 hours until I feel fully connected to my DR. (Itâs different for everyone btw) you may take less time than I do. Those things donât matter if you decide that those things donât matter.
3. Methods really arenât needed. If you think about it all methods consist of the same thing usually. It usually consists of affirmations, visualization, subliminal audios, meditation, counting, blah blah blah. If you want to use a method, then do that but donât force yourself to do a method that doesnât resonate with you. If you donât like counting, then donât count. If you donât like visualizing, then donât visualize. Change things up a bit and listen to music that reminds you of your DR or do something that you think is fun.
4. Just because some people like to lie about their shifting experiences doesnât mean that shifting is fake. Just like in every community there is going to be people that are dishonest or donât have the best intentions but that doesnât mean that shifting is a big inside joke. Donât allow these people to discourage you from shifting to your DR or make you doubt in its existence. Donât depend on other people's content to feel motivated or believe in shifting. Just KNOW itâs real and motivate yourself to shift. (even though motivation isnât needed to shift)
5. Shifting is Real. I think we all should know this by now, but I donât think people really fully understand just how REAL shifting is. I mean you are going to be able to use all of your senses. You will be able to taste food, see your reflection in the mirror, talk to people that may be considered as fictional in this reality, etc. The process of shifting is safe but if you are shifting somewhere that has violence or gore make sure you script your own well-being. High pain tolerance, no trauma, etc.
6. Time isn't important. Just because it's been 4 years or 5 doesn't mean you can't do it. Time doesn't apply to shifting because time is just man-made thing. We created the concept of time not the Universe. Don't blame the Universe for your "Failure". (Spoiler alert: it's not failure) You just need to realize that no matter what, it will happen. It is completely inevitable. Some people have shifted after 5 years so don't give up! It will be worth it.
7. You can't fail at shifting. When you do your method, you will shift to your DR or shift to your CR. You shift all the time. We are constantly shifting consciously or unconsciously. Manifestation and shifting are very much closely related. (But that's another discussion for another time) Just like how we are manifesting on autopilot we are also shifting on autopilot. So, when you do a sleep method, and you wake up in this reality instead of your DR you still shifted. (Just not to your DR) (Get it?)
I hope you found this post helpful! :)
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The Meetup
ăPart 2 for Next Caller
ăPairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
ăSummary: After your call with Eddie, you can't get him off your mind. You promised yourself to let your fears go and finally speak with him in person. Some things don't go as originally planned because Eddie just so happens to walk into your coffee shop.
ăWarnings:fluff,smut. 90s!Eddie, a little tiny bit of dry humping, oral ( female & male receiving) dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart) phone sex, masturbation (male). Sex toys (fleshlight)
Word count: 7.7k
A/n: Please reblog like and leave a comment to show support. Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across.
Disclaimer: Please read part one linked at the top to understand the rest of the story.
Mini series masterlist
18+ minors dni
Almost a few days after the stunt, you pulled on the radio with Eddie it didn't take long before word got around on campus. It's all anyone could talk about they wanted to know who the mystery caller was, and Eddie seemed to be cornered more so than usual. As people surrounded him, he wished maybe one of them were you. Hiding amongst the crowd of people.
Anytime a woman called in, his assistant would jump out his skin. He knew he should have shut it down the moment it started, but he trusted Eddie. Now, anytime the phone rings, he instantly goes into a frenzied panic. Eddie just laughs at how over dramatic he was being. He knew if someone called in trying to pull the same stunt as you did, he'd turn them away. He's not gonna tell his assistant that, though. He likes how jumpy and absolutely horrified he gets when there is a female voice on the other end of the line.
You still listened in every show since that night. Almost every time someone called in, they would either want to do what you did or want to talk about you. One thing that pretty much kinda bothered you were some of the girls calling and pretending to be you. Sometimes, you felt like it was bait, and someone was just trying to get the real "Miss caller" to give away her true identity. Much like how tonight was going, if you were tired of it, you can only imagine how he must feel.
"Yeah hi its me calling you back." An unfamiliar female voice spoke.
"Nice try, you don't really sound anything like her, buh-bye." His voice etched with annoyance as he hung up on the fifth woman of the night.
"Anyone want to call in and talk about I' dunno sports?" He sounded absolutely over it.
"I'm fucking desperate over here."
He emitted a long sigh into the mic. "Can someone call in with an embarrassing or some shit?"
You begin to drown out the sound of him talking as he tries to move along the segment.
You felt bad you truly did for what was happening to him now. You don't regret choosing him to help you, but you wish the circumstances were a little different. You hope he didn't hate you for this. You don't think you could live with yourself if he did.
Eddie on the other hand couldn't get you off his mind. You infested it, and no matter how hard he tried to think of over things, you creeped your way back in. He dreamt of you, and every dream was the same. He could hear you speaking to him, but right when he got close enough to reveal who you were, he'd wake up.
He got absolutely chewed out by his boss that following day. His show was close to being taken off the air, but once they saw how much buzz it was getting, they decided against it. He was on thin ice, though, when it came to how raunchy his segment was allowed to get. The conversation made local news in your town, which created more concerns for you.
The thought of someone figuring out how to trace your call back to your home terrified you to no end. Could they even do something like that? You don't know and definitely don't want to find out. Eddie did make a promise to keep you anonymous, but that didn't mean everyone else who worked there did. You try to push the paranoia to the back of your mind and just put all of your focus on school and work. This whole situation should blow over shortly you hoped.
Even with all of the chaos at your campus right now, that still didn't persuade from wanting to go see him play Thursday. Which was perfect timing since your roommate was going out of town that same day. Leaving you to an empty home all to by yourself. Who knows, maybe you'd get lucky and take him home. It was wishful thinking on your part, but still, it could happen.
Little did you know you didn't need to wait that long to see him after all. As you just rang up a customer's coffee order, he was next in line. He was too preoccupied looking at all the coffee options on the menu to see he's the next one to in line. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he looked right at you.
Your heart felt like it was in your throat when his eyes met yours. He looked very good today, making it much harder for you to focus. He had his hair pulled back and wore a oversized black corduroy button-up shirt with black ripped jeans. He gave an apologetic smile for holding you up.
"Uhhh, sorry, I really don't know what this shit means." He laughs, pointing back to the menu above.
Your mouth goes dry, and you try to play it cool.
"Well, what kind of coffee do you usually like?" You asked, trying to forget about who's standing before you. He's just some guy you kept reminding yourself.
He pressed his lips in a thin line, "Well, i usually don't drink coffee. if I did, I guess I wouldn't want it to taste like ass."
"So whatever you suggest."
You giggle and smile, turning to look at the menu as well. "I'd suggest maybe a vanilla latte. It's pretty basic."
"I'll take whatever you tell me to." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm putting all my faith in you."
"Wait a minute, are you implying im basic?" His mouth agape throwing a ringed hand over his heart pretending to be offended.
He was toying with you hoping to get you to laugh but instead you panicked.
Swallowing hard." N-no...its just a pretty standard drink to order."
"Hey, it's cool. I'm messing around." He reassured.
"Oh..um okay well then."
You try to regain your composure as your face begins to tingle.
"Okay, and what size? Small, medium, or large? " You asked him, trying to hide the fact that you're rapidly about to lose your mind.
"Oh, I need a large."
You nodded, putting in his order and ringing him up. He stands there a moment too long, and it's making you a little nervous. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Your eyes grow wide, and you quickly turn to look away.
"Nope." You shook your head.
"You sure? You seem so familiar to me." He bends down on his elbows leaning on the counter. He's trying to examine your face to remember where he knows you from.
"We may have a had a class together at some point." You shrug.
"I mean yeah--but I don't know there is something else." He continued staring while you ran around behind the counter, putting away fresh croissant.
The longer it took for his latte to be finished, the more anxious you got. He wouldn't stop looking at you. You wanted to tell him it's rude to stare, but you don't. He kept trying to make small talk with you, which didn't help your nerves at all. You kept stumbling over your words or clearing your throat because it was getting dry.
You took a breath of fresh air when they finally called his order number. He took his coffee and waited around until you came back. "So, uhh, I don't know if this weird, but you wouldn't be apposed to going on a date with me?"
You blinked twice trying to figure out if you just heard him correctly.
"Come again?" You ask in disbelief.
"Oh, well, I was wondering if I could take you on a date?" He repeated as a small blush creeped along his cheeks.
"Yeah, sure. I mean, I'd love to." You tried to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were jumping for joy.
His smile grows ten times wider when he hears you accept his date. "Great, write down your address and phone number so we can keep in contact."
You nodded and ran to grab a pin and paper, giving him all of the information he needed. He also wrote down his number to give to you as well, just in case you needed to get in touch before your date.
"Cool, how's Friday sound?" He asks, taking the piece of paper you handed him. "Friday sounds great, actually."
"My names Eddie, by the way." He added motioning to himself.
He smiled again, taking a sip of coffee as he began heading for the door. He turns to look at you one last time before leaving. "I'll see you Friday, pretty girl."
"Thanks a latte." He joked, holding up his cup before finally exiting the coffee shop. His face scrunched up with embarrassment as he turned to leave. Why the fuck did I just say that? He thought to himself as he practically chugged down his drink, heading to his first lecture of the day.
You're standing still behind the counter, frozen in place. Did that really just happen? That fast? You started to think someone was pulling a prank on you. Maybe everyone did find out you were the caller and decided to mess with around. No, Eddie doesn't seem like the type of guy who would do something like that, you thought. You just couldn't get over how easy that was, a little too easy.
The week went by way too fast for you, and the closer it got to your date, the more anxious you became. You wanted to tell him so badly it was you who called. Would he even still like you after that? He seemed just as eager to meet you as you wanted to meet him. Doesn't really matter now. You'd tell him eventually anyway. Especially if this date goes well.
You didn't see or hear from him too much during the days leading up to Friday. You figured he was very busy since he still was doing his show on the radio and playing with his band. On top of attending classes, he seemed like he didn't have much free time. Which is why you didn't cancel on him like you were probably going to. After you thought about it for a while, you realized he definitely was making the time to take you out.
Eddie called you a few times to check in and see if you were still willing to go out with him. He'd make small talk to ask how you were and if your classes were going well. He'd crack a joke or two, making you laugh easing your mind of any self doubt you had before.
Now that it was officially Friday evening, you quickly left work early to go home and get ready. He said he'd be come by eight o'clock to pick you up, giving you a few hours to decide what to wear. You searched through each article of clothing hating every single piece. You know deep down he doesn't care about what clothes you're wearing. He asked you out while you were in your work attire. With your coffee stained apron and dumb hat.
Still, you wanted to look nice for him, and you don't get out much as it is. So you opted for just a simple black dress. Dowsing yourself in a sweet perfume and putting on a pair of heels. You pray you don't end up falling and busting your ass in front of him tonight. You were shaved, plucked, and smelt of vanilla and spice.
You were just putting the last touches to your makeup on when you heard a knock at your front door. You did a last mirror check, making sure everything looked well put together. You take a long, deep breath and exhale before you go to open up for him.
When you opened the door to greet him, he was standing there with one hand in his pocket. While the other is holding a bouquet of flowers. He wore a black pullover sweater with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed arms. His dark curly hair loose around his shoulders, and he smelled like mint and tobacco. His smile widened when he saw you for the first time since your last meeting. His dimples on full display, and you couldn't help but melt a little. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks. You don't look too bad, either." You smile, stepping out to stand closer to him. "Nah, I just wanted to impress you."
He blushes, and this is the second time you've seen him do that. He gave a boyish smile and handed you the bouquet of flowers he picked. "These are for you, sweetheart."
"Thank you." You reached out to accept the flowers. "They're beautiful."
There is a moment where you both don't say a word and just stand there gazing at one another.
Eddie cleared his throat. "Shall we?"
You nodded, closing the door behind you and making your way to his van. He walked next to you with a hand on the small of your back. He moved past you quickly to open the door and help you get into the passenger seat. Eddie made his way to the driver side and hopped in no longer after you.
The drive to the restaurant was fairly quiet except for the music playing on Eddie's radio. He humed along, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. You both steal glances here and there when the other isn't looking. Your heart beating a mile a minute.
Eddie seemed calm and collected, but on the inside, he felt just the same. Usually, he was pretty confident around women, but there was something about you that made his heart skip a beat. He doesn't know what it is that pulled him in so quickly. He's not complaining one bit either.
You finally see the restaurant up a head and sigh in relief. He pulled up and parked in the front. He made you wait there while he jumped out of the driver side to jog over to help open up your door. You took his hand and carefully got out while trying not to flash anyone in the process. You wish the dress you finally decided on wasn't so short.
You make your way inside where a hostess greets you both and guides you to a table in the far back. You sit across from one another while she handed you a menu to look over. A waitress soon comes by to ask what drinks you'd like, and you both settle on a Dr pepper.
She returned not too much longer to take your orders and set down your drinks. You and him seemed to be in sync tonight since the both of you ordered a burger with onion rings on the side. Once she took your order, she left, leaving you alone together again.
"So I'm gonna ask a boring question and say what do you enjoy doing for fun?" He playfully asked, taking a sip of his soda.
"Uh, well, I haven't been having much fun lately with work and school taking up my time." You confessed feeling a little embarrassed you don't live an exciting life you imagined he did.
"You don't hang out with friends or go out?" His brows furrowed.
You play around with a piece of paper on the table, avoiding his gaze. "Uh, well, I don't have that many friends here."
"I mostly just keep to myself and stay home a lot." You continued on.
He frowns. "Boyfriends?"
You shake your head, trying not to even think about any of your exes at a time like this.
"You know what? I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask about boyfriends while in the middle of a date." He gave an apologetic smile.
"Hope he doesn't mind sharing you for the night, though." He winked, making you laugh.
He seems to enjoy making you laugh when he notices you're uncomfortable or getting shy.
The waitress finally arrived back with your food, and you didn't hesitate to start eating immediately. He watched you with amusement and started eating right behind you. The longer you both talked, the more relaxed you became.
You were already familiar with him and found a form of comfort when listening to his show. But being alone with him felt different. You never thought this moment would come. You almost wanted to cry, thinking it was just some elaborate dream that you'd soon wake up from. The date was going amazing so far, and you never wanted it to end.
"So, um, how's your show going?" You ask him, not wanting to seem like he was the only one asking the questions.
"It's good..well actually I'm in some trouble, but they'll live. More people are listening in now, so I think the money will shut them up." He openly admited, shoving an onion ring in his mouth.
You raise an eyebrow "in trouble for what?"
You already knew but wanted to hear him say. You kept wondering what he thought about that phone call. Even if it might hurt your feelings, you were dying to know. Your curiosity always got the best of you.
He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll talk about it on our second date."
You giggle, finishing off the last bit of your dinner. "What do you like to do for fun?"
"Well, I play DnD when I have extra free time, I play with my band at the bar by campus." He frowned a little at the mention of his band.
"Sadly, we probably won't be playing much together here very soon." He adds.
Changing the subject quickly, not wanting to bring the mood down. "Girlfriends?"
"No girlfriends."
He eyed you up and down, grinning wide poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek. You swear you could see a little twinkle in his eye.
He leans forward, getting awfully close. " You almost ready to go?"
"Um sure, yeah." You respond a little sadly, not wanting the night to end so soon. He waves for the waitress to bring over the bill. Once he was done paying, you both got back in his vans.
The van ride back to your place wasn't as awkward as before, but there was something electric in the air. There is too much tension between the two of you. It felt like the silence was lingering until one of you decided to make the first move.
He pulls up in front of your home and helps you step out of the passenger side. Both of you walking up to your front door, not speaking. This was your chance to invite him in. You thought to yourself. "I had fun tonight."
"Yeah, me too." He smiled, putting his hands back in pockets.
You look up at him and whisper. " Do you want to come in?"
He paused for a moment, hoping he heard you correctly before answering. "Yeah, I'd love to come in."
You unlock the front door and take his hand, pulling him inside and guiding him to your bedroom.
The moment he was finally in his lips, crashed onto yours in a heated kiss. The kiss was sloppy and passionate as your tongues fought for dominance. Your lipstick smears on his mouth. He breaks away to move down your jaw and nip at your neck right under your ear. He nibbled and sucked at your tender skin, causing your knees to buckle. You grabbed onto his biceps, holding on tightly to keep your balance.
He stops to look at you in your eyes. "You wanna get undressed for me?"
You swallowed hard and nodded.
"Words, pretty girl." His voice is low and husky.
"Yes." You panted.
Eddie reaches around to unzip the back of your dress, letting it pool around your feet. He squates down his face mere inches from your heat. He looks up at you through his long lashes. He kisses your tummy right above the waistband of your panties before reaching to grab your ankle. He brought it forward to unclasp your heel. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. He tosses the shoe to the side before moving to the next one and doing the same.
He stands up, reaching around your back again, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall to the floor, exposing your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air of your bedroom. You watch him as he takes his shirt off, exposing his bare chest to you. You notice tattoos you've never seen before. One of a faded demon on his peck and a black widow right under his clavicle. "Be a good girl and lay back on the bed."
You hesitate for a moment as your mind is already feeling hazy. You turned to slowly make your way up the bed, laying back against your pillows. You watch as he took his boots off and unbuckeld his jeans, letting them hang low on his hips. He seductively crawls his way up until he is hovering above you.
You push on his chest. "Umm....I don't think it's a good idea if we have sex."
He sit back on his knees. "Want me to leave?"
"No, we can do other stuff. I'm just not ready to do that." You confessed.
"Hey, we don't have to do anything you don't want to." He reassured you, bringing a hand to gently cup your cheek.
You let out a shakey breath, feeling a little more comfortable . You were worried he would be mad at you, but he wasn't.
"If you don't like anything I'm doing, don't be afraid to tell me,okay?" He's being sincere, you can tell. He wanted you to feel safe with him.
You nodded again. "Okay, i will."
"Good." He smiled and leaned down to give you another kiss to your lips.
He brought his hips against yours grinding his hard cock against your core. You moan in his mouth when his cock applies pressure to your clit over your panties. He pushes against you harder, causing him to grunt. He moved to lay by your side, pressing his front right up against you. His fingers dance and play with the waistband of your panties. You can feel his prominent buldge pressing against your outer thigh. His calloused fingers slowly slips past the delicate lace. You can feel him brushing past your clit. He carefully glides his middle finger in between your wet fold, collecting your slick on his finger. Ignoring your aching bud in the process.
"Fuck you're so wet." He murmured against your mouth.
He pushes one finger inside your entrance, pumping it agonizingly slow. Your head falls back, giving him the perfect opportunity to attack your neck. He nips and sucks on the skin by your ear. Biting, licking, and sucking while his finger is knuckle deep in your pussy. He adds another stretching you open around his thick fingers. His thumb pressing firmly on your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out gasp.
"Think of my cock pretty girl." He whispered curving his fingers upward.
"Mmm!, s-so good." You whimper.
That's all you could respond with your mind completely gone. All you could do was focus on how he seemed determined to make you feel good. You feel him smile against your neck when where his lips were leaving feather like kisses all over. You clench around him as his fingers start working on that sweet spot on your walls.
"F-fuck." You let out a strangled moan bucking your hips.
He grinds his cock against your thigh. "Feel that?"
"Feel how hard I am for you?"
You look up at him with big doe eyes."y-yes I can feel you."
His picks up the pace, his fingers plunging in and out, making your head spin. Your pussy wet and loud taking his middle and ring finger. The tightness in your core building with each pump of fingers. Your moans getting more pornographic. His warm breath on your neck making you squirm.
"You're such a messy girl. My hand is getting soaked." He purrs in your ear.
He ruts harder against your thigh, violently rocking your bed.
"Can I taste you?" He rasped.
You let out groan. "Please"
You swallow hard as your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. You're already breathless. A small frown forms on your face when you feel his thick fingers leaving from inside of you.
"Ah ah, no pouting." He wiggled his index finger at you playfully.
No one has ever done this to you before. None of your exes cared about your pleasure they only wanted to get themselves off and then leave you to handle the rest. Eddie was the first man to help you cum and now he's going to be the first man to taste you. All of your ex boyfriends were selfish lovers. Which brought on so many insecurities you've been working hard to overcome. There was a part of you that didn't want him to keep going, but there was another part that was telling you to let go and enjoy it.
He gave you one last deep kiss on your lips before moving and kissing his way down right above your sex. He looked up at you again, and his pupils were blown out with lust. He never breaks eye contact as he slowly drags your panties down your legs. He sits up higher for a moment, admiring your naked body spread out before him. You went to close your legs, but he stopped you. "Let me see you."
Thats all you needed to hear before spreading them wider for him.
He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes, trying not to attack the moment you show yourself to him. "I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good."
He dips down again, his face so close to your pussy now. He hums in approval when he sees how soaked you are for him. Your slick dripping down to the curve of your ass. He kisses the inside of your thighs, testing to see how much you can take before you're begging him for more. It doesn't take long before you're already impatient. He nips and sucks at the soft skin, making you buck up against his face. His nose nudging your throbbing clit.
"Patience, sweetheart." He laughed.
You buck up again, wanting desperately wanting his mouth.
Without warning, you feel his warm tongue licking a long strip between your wet folds. You sucked in a breath, never having felt something like this before. "OOh!,Eddie." You mewled
He pulls you down hard against his face, grunting against you. He sucks and laps at your folds, letting your slick cover his face. You grind against his mouth, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your legs go to squeeze around his head, but his strong hands hold them in place. He takes his tongue to flick across your clit making you wriggle. His mouth attaches to your sensitive bud, and he sucks on it softly. You went to push his head away as the sensation is too much. He removed his mouth, checking see to see if you're okay. "You okay?"
"Why'd you stop?" You whined.
He smiled before reattaching his plump lips to your clit slurping and flicking his tongue over it. He watches as you writhe above him. His eyes never left you as he almost seemed mesmerized by the sight before him. You've never felt this desired by anyone before. Your hips bucking as you grind on his face as he begins sucking harder on your aching clit.
You grip the blankets beneath you. "i-im getting close."
His removes a hand from one of your thighs and carefully pushes one finger inside your entrance. You grab and pull on his hair, making him grunt against you. He adds another finger, curving them upwards to stroke that sweet spot on your walls.
Removing his mouth for a moment "Yeah is my good girl gonna cum?" He asked quickly reattaching his lips to your sore clit. Your backing arching off the bed as you pull on his hair some more.
Your walls pulsating around him as his fingers pump in out of you fast. His mouth sucking on your clit harshly as his fingers plunge deep inside your pussy. The wet noises his mouth is making as his tastes you, mixed with the squelching of your pussy fill the room.
He's lapping away at you, getting lost in your taste, driving you absolutely wild.
"Mmphf! Don't stop." You begged him.
You feel that all too familiar tightness building again, and you clench around his fingers. Your legs are twitcing and trembling. You're breathing harder than before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you fast, leaving your body to shake. Eddies mouth never letting go of your clit. While his skilled fingers work on your pussy helping you ride out your orgasm.
He removes his mouth and fingers from you tenderly, not wanting to hurt you in any kind of way. His face glistening with your slick and his lips look swollen. He moves to lay next to you on your bed. You're slowly coming down from your high. Your breathing evening out as you come to. You both lay there in silence for a few minutes.
"Can I taste you now?" Your voice sounding small as you asked.
"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.
"Yeah, you can taste me." He whispers back.
Moving to sit back between his legs, you reached to take off his pants off. He helped you by wiggling them down his legs and discarding them to the floor. You notice how painfully hard he is in his boxers, and you lick your lips. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. His his cock spring free hitting his belly button. The head an angry red leaking precum down his shaft. He hisses when the cool air hits sensitive his tip. Your eyes widened at the size of him. You now know he was telling the truth. He was big, and you don't know how you're gonna be able to fit all of him in your mouth.
He grabs it, giving it a few light strokes eagerly waiting for your mouth. Precum still dripping alongside it, getting on his hand.
"Don't be shy." His voice low and deep just like how he spoke to you that night on the radio. "I hope you'll let me be inside you one day."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? He bites his lip, waiting for your response.
"Yes." Your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyebrows raise, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. "You felt so tight taking my fingers. I can only imagine how you must feel when I'm spreading you open."
"Just thinking about you taking my cock. The little noises you'd make as you're begging for more."
He presses his thumb on the leaking slit his mouth forming an O shape at the pressure. The veins along his shaft are prominent from the amount of blood rushing to his cock.
"Making you cry because it feels so good." He's breathing heavier while eyeing you in front of him. He wants to get you worked up until you can't take it anymore. Teasing was his favorite part before anything. He didnt even have to touch anyone before he had them begging to be fucked in some type of way.
He kept going on. The way he was speaking to you brought you right back to the night you called him. You squeeze your thighs tightly together, desperate for any small amount of friction.
"Gonna think about that tight pussy when I'm cuming down your throat." His voice deep and seductive. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Hes thinking about all the ways he'd fuck you. Imagining what your pretty tits would look like with his cum is dripping down them. Filling you up with his cum and watching it dripping out after removing his cock.
Watching him stroke his cock as he thinks about fucking you makes your pussy flutter. You wonder what he must feel like. The feeling of him stretching you open. You're getting tired of him taunting you. You needed to taste him now.
You smacked his hand away, replacing it with your own, giving it a few more light strokes. You move your thumb to press down on his tip. He grunts and bangs his head back against your headboard. You bend down to give the head of his cock a quick peck. You remove your hand and spit into it as you grasp his thick shaft, rubbing it up and down lazily. His mouth hangs open as relaxes and enjoys what you're doing.
Moving your mouth closer, you kitten licked at his tip, tasting his precum. His thrusts his hips as you continue teasing him like he did to you earlier. You take the opportunity to pull away and spit directly on his cock earning you low groan deep from his chest. You begin to suck on the head of cock. Using your spit mixed with his precum as a lubricant to continue stroking his hard length with your hand.
Gliding your mouth down his length until he's hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little. You removed your hand, resting them on his thighs. You try relaxing your throat while taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. He wasn't even all the way in, and he's already has you gagging. Tears leaking from your eyes smudging your mascara.
"Oh! fuck!, c-careful, sweetheart." He coaxed you.
Drool spilling down your chin as you try to take more of him in your throat. You attempt to keep him back there and focus on breathing from your nose. Sucking lightly on him, you pull him all the way out and swirl your tongue around his tip. "Hmm! your mouth feels so fucking good."
Your tongue wet and warm teasing the head of his cock. Eddie does everything in his power to not push you back down on his length.
He breathed heavily. "Shit! I-I not gonna last if you keep doing that."
Removing his cock from your mouth, creating a loud pop in his absence.
"you like it when I tease your cock eddie?"You asked in a sultry voice.
You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"Look who's not so shy afterall." He taunted you
You don't know what has come over you suddenly, but having him here in your bed tonight gave you a boost of confidence you never knew you had.
Putting the head of his cock to your mouth sucking it firmly almost forcing him to answer. "Y-yeah I like...I like the way you're teasing me."
You slip his length back down as far he could go in your throat, swallowing around him.
Hearing him like that only spurred you on more. Sucking his cock a little harder than before. Your head bobbing up and down faster. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, and he jerks at the feeling. The sensation of you massaging his balls and your mouth working on his cock practically sends him into a coma of bliss. His abs flexing and his toes curl. His entire body glistened with sweat. "Shit i-im gonna fuck... I'm gonna cum."
"You're gonna make me cum." He panted above you.
With a few more pumps of your hand and mouth sucking harder on his length. You feel his cock twitch and he's shooting his cum deep down your throat. Some spilling out and leaked from the corners of your mouth. He moans out loud and holds your head down until he's finished. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could take. Your mouth not leaving until you're collecting every bit. " S-sweetheart, please."
You let him go with a long string of saliva connecting you to his cock, his cum dripping down your chin. You collect it on your fingertips, bringing it to your mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. Sucking your fingers clean enjoying the salty taste of his cum.
He goes limp as he comes down from his high. His eyes glossed over watching your every move as you lick his cum from your fingers.
You moved to lay back next to him as you wait to see if he will soon leave. His chest rose and fell calmly now, but his head was still foggy. You don't want him to go, but you understand if he does.
"Thank you for tonight" you turn to smile weakly at him.
"No problem." He snorted.
There is a long, drawn-out pause, and you decided it time to tell him your secret.
"Um, I have something to confess to you." You're nervous, and he can tell.
He sit up straight and looks over at you, concern etched on his face. "Yeah? "
"Well, umm, I was the one who called you that night.....on your show." You confessed, looking down, playing with your thumbs.
He blinked, taking in what you just said. Not really sure if he heard you right or if he's still a little dazed.
"Are-- are you serious? " He sounded a little harsh, but he didn't intend to. That night was all he could think about since it happened. You were all he could think about. He lost hours and hours of sleep coming up with different possible scenarios on how he would find you. Who you could possibly be.
"Yeah. Are you mad?" You look over at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
His face softens immediately when he notices. "Are you kidding?"
"I've been thinking about you ever since." He sprang up on his knees with excitement scooting closer to you.
You wipe at your eyes and laugh when he takes your hands into his. The fear that was building up moments ago slowly fading away."Really?"
"Oh, you're definitely not getting rid of me now." He exclaimed.
"So, do you maybe want to go out again?" You shyly asked.
"Fuck yeah I do!" He celebrated clapping his his hands together.
You laughed at his excitement. Making you feel so much better now that you got that off your chest. No one has ever made you feel like this before. You felt like you've known him forever even though you just met in person. "Can I call you... like all the time?"
"Yes, absolutely you can." You giggle.
"Hope you don't mind late night ramblings and bad puns," He advised.
"I love bad puns."
He laid back down next, throwing an arm around you. The both of you stayed like that for the rest of the night. Staying up for hours laughing and telling each other stories about your life. You wish you and him didn't have to ever leave this bed.
Another couple of days have passed, and you really haven't heard much again from him since your date. You were starting to think he was just saying all of that stuff because he thought it was something you wanted to hear. You tried not to think like that and just chalked it up to him being extremely busy because he was.
He did talk about you a little bit on his show but never mentioned you were also the mystery caller everyone has been gossiping about. You listened in biting at your nails when he talked about going on a date with a cutie from the coffee shop across from campus.
Eddie never once talked about hooking up with you, and you're grateful for that. He didn't use your date as a way to have another story for his show. He genuinely wanted to take you out and have a nice time. He didn't hook up for a new story to keep his segment interesting. Most of the girls he was with actually asked him to talk about it. Otherwise, he never would have done it to begin with.
You sat on your bed feet dangling over the side, contemplating if you should just bite the bullet and call first. You don't wanna seem desperate, but you also really want to see him again. He agreed to go on another date with you. Since you haven't heard much else from him, you don't want to come off pushy.
Maybe you should call first? Let him know you're equally as interested in him.
You snatch up the phone and the little piece of paper he gave with his number on it. Putting in the digits and waiting for the dial tone to start ringing. You felt like you were waiting forever, but it's only been a few seconds. You were almost ready to hang up and pretend this never happened until you heard him answer.
"H-hello?" He panted into the phone.
He sounded like he was currently in the middle of something. What that something is you don't know yet.
"Hi, it's me....just wanted to call and check in with you." You spoke softly in the other end.
"Y-yeah, uhh, I'm doing good." He stumbled over his words.
He sounded out of breath, and now you're really hoping you didn't interrupt him. Especially if he has company at his place. The thought of that makes you feel a little sick. You're not dating him and barely even know him. You shouldn't feel this way even if he did have someone over. "I can let you go. You seem a little busy."
"Wait, don't hang up!" He exclaimed.
He ponders for a moment on how he can keep you on the other line.
"Wanna help me...with... something? " he asked with a nervous laugh.
You swallow hard before answering. "What do you need?"
You hear him curse under his breath in your ear. Low grunts can be heard, and it doesn't take long before you can figure out what's going on.
"W--wanna talk to you while I fuck this toy." He breathed heavy.
You go to lay back on your bed playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. You know what he wants you to do. Since he helped you out, you might as well do the same for him. It's only fair, right? The last time you did this, hundreds of people were listening. This time, it's just the two of you. Making the situation more intimate, but it also helps take the edge off.
Eddie was currently balls deep in his fleshlight when you called. He just got out of the shower hair still wet and sticking to his body. All day long, he kept thinking about you. He's been painfully hard and wanted to see if he could come over to your place again but didn't want to be so forward. He didn't want you to think he was using you to get off. He really really liked you and hoped there could be something more between the two of you. So he was going to do what he normally would and take of it himself. That was until you called him, and it sparked a little idea in his brain.
He was leaning back against a wall with one hand on a chair next to him, trying to keep his balance upright. Lube was all over his toy, leaking out onto the soft curls between his legs and balls. He glided the toy up and down his length at a steady pace trying not to cum so soon already. His mind races with vivid thoughts of you.
"What do you think about when you do that?" Your voice coming out so small in his ear.
He smiles to himself. "Well I--was thinking about you."
"Like, what exactly?" You played innocent.
Eddie knows what game you're playing, and he has no problem going along with it. He pulls his cock almost all the way out of the toy only to slam it back down hard causing him to groan loud. His legs almost giving out from under him. He pulled out the chair next to him and plopped down.
Biting his lip to stifle another moan.
"Thinkin' about you squeezing around me." He breathed heavily in your ear. "Wishing this was your pussy instead of some..F-fucking toy."
Sinking his cock back inside making a loud schlick noise you can faintly hear in the phone. Pumping his cock while his other hand runs along his abdomen. He's trying to balance the phone between his shoulder and cheek praying he doesnt drop it. His face and chest flushed a crimson red. He lets out a loud moan when he thrusts upward. "Ooh! Shit!"
"Did I feel good?" You purred into the phone.
"God yes--- so fucking tight. the way you hugged my fingers when i was knuckle deep inside you."
You squeeze your thighs together involuntarily, and you can feel a wetness pool in between your legs. You bite down on your lip hard listening as he fucks himself while talking about you. You want to touch yourself so badly. Your nipples hardening under the sheer thin material of your tank top.
Pumping his cock faster in the toy, lube splashing all over his pelvis and wrist dripping down onto the of floor. He's making a total mess and he doesn't care. He thinks about how messy he could make you.
You interrupt him from his thoughts
"What do you wanna do to me?" You whisper.
"Fuuuck, I wanna do the nastiest things to you." His voice ragged.
Moving the toy up and down his cock as he spoke in the phone, trying to keep It balanced as best he could.
He lets out whimper, "Wanna fill you up with my cum and clean it out of you with my tongue."
"W-wanna..fuuuck...wanna cum all over those pretty tits." He's panting and grunting louder in your ear.
....."Yeah?" You cooed.
"Make you cum in all sorts of ways you never even imagined you could."
He legs kick up, and his stomach tightens. He was getting close but didn't want this to end, not yet.
You're still lying in bed, looking up at your ceiling. You never thought you'd have this burst of confidence yet again, but it's different with him. You don't feel ashamed of anything. The way he's coming undone just by talking to you only made you never want to stop. You felt empowered.
There is a throbbing ache between your legs that you desperately want to take care of. You try to ignore it and put all of your focus on him. You wiggle around clenching up. Doing anything to ease that ache.
"Tell me what you think about you when you touch yourself." He breathed.
"You think of me?"
"Yeah," you muttered quietly.
"So tell me." He commanded gently.
You stammered. "I um, I think about what you would feel like inside me."
"Oh yeah?" His voice getting low.
Goosebumps prickle all over your skin when he does that voice. You squirm in your bed just thinking about that night he used it when he helped you cum over the phone. It was domineering and seductive.
"Mmhm, you're so big." You whimper.
"I don't think I could fit all of you."
"Fuuuck." He groans
"You wanna feel my cock struggling to stretch you open? Is that it?"
You whined into the phone. "Yes, I need it so bad Eddie."
His cock steadily plunging in out of his toy in a brutal pace. He's getting closer to his release, and the phone drops with a loud thud in your ear. His other hand moving to cup his balls mimicking how you massaged them. His hips thrusting up and all you can hear is the squelching sound his cock is making in the toy.
"Oooh shit!" He groaned louder. With a few more strokes and he's spilling his cum inside the toy. Still pumping his length, milking himself of every drop. His cum spilling out and coating his balls. He lays there in the chair, head falling back before realizing he dropped the phone. His head all foggy, and his vision is blury.
He went to get up, but his legs gave out, and he fell back down.
"Shit"
"Fuck"
You heard him cursing from afar. You laughed to yourself, knowing he probably had fallen down.
"Hang on!" He called out
He leans over and reaches out far to snatch up the phone off the floor. His breathing is ragged when he goes to talk. "I've never came that hard in my life."
Smacking a hand on his belly he changes the subject.
"Okay, so what were you originally calling me about? " He asked still panting in the phone.
"Umm, well, I wanted to see if you were still up for going out again....Maybe?" You closed your eyes, waiting for his response.
"Yeah, actually, you know my band is playing Wednesday. Why don't you come see us." He said matter of factly. Like you didn't just help him jerk off on the other line.
You don't understand how one minute he can say some of the most dirtiest things to you and the next be totally nonchalant. All you want to do now is hang up and take care of the ache between your legs.
"I'd love to!" You accept his offer excitement etched in your tone.
He lets out a laugh. "Great, it's a date."
Before you both go to hang up, he stops you.
..."Oh, and thank you for helping me this time." His tone sultry.
Your eyebrows shot up, and you gulp. "No problem--it was fun."
"Goodnight, Eddie." You said sweetly.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
You both stay on the line, neither one wanting to be the first to hang up. Eventually, you had to hang up first since it seemed like he wasn't going to be the one to do it. You roll over on your side, trying to relax and ready yourself for sleep. Your mind racing with excitement that you're finally going to see him play.
Maybe after your date, Eddie can take you back to his place this time. The ache between your legs was not subsiding. You needed him, and after your date, you decided it was time to have him.
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I feel sorta shitty. My hip is sorta out of place so it's tweaking, and mt back is aching a shitload. Ugh.
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soooo eddie hears or reads somewhere that birthmarks are where your lover from a past life used to kiss you
and as soon as he gets home he wants to make sure that in this present life r still feel this love and that the birthmarks remain the same until their next life together (ugh so cute đ„ș)
i changed this up a wee bit but i hope u like it!! â you and eddie kiss birthmarks on the other for the next life (established relationship, fluff, 0.7k)
bug's one year celebration âĄ
Eddie traces shapes on your bare back, a post-sex ritual of sorts. It starts out innocent, usually â tiny hearts and flowers and planets that you try hard to guess. It almost always ends with him signing penises onto your spine and laughing out loud every time you realize.
Heâs doing it mindlessly now. Touching you just to touch you. His finger trails up your back, circles over your shoulder blades, and then falls back down again. âDid you know you have a birthmark here?â he wonders, breaking the honeyed silence of his tiny bedroom.
Your brows furrow as he traces some sort of outline between your shoulder and spine. âDo I?â you murmur, muffled into the pillow.
âI think so. Itâs really faint.â
âMaybe itâs just dirt,â you joke quietly. You donât see Eddie pull his hand away to lick his finger, but you feel the wet touch of it when it swipes over your back. âEw, Eddie!â you shout.
âItâs not dirt,â he confirms, choking back a laugh.
âIâve ever noticed it, I guess. I donât think Iâve ever looked that hard back there. Like, ever.â
Eddie scoffs, almost in disbelief. âThatâs a shameâŠâ he murmurs.Â
His finger is gentle and featherlight as it trails down your bare back, leaving chill bumps in its wake. His hand dips below the sheets covering the bottom half of you. His palm spreads unabashedly over your ass, wide and warm.Â
ââŠâCause thereâs a real nice view back here.â
You lift a heavy hand to swat at the boy beside you. It collides halfheartedly with his shoulder. He laughs again. âWhat?! Iâm talking about the birthmark, babe! Itâs cuteâ I love noticing new things about you.â
âDonât people say thatâs how you died in a past life? Wherever your birthmark is?â
Your tired eyes open to find Eddieâs screwed-up face. âDoes that mean someone stabbed me in the ass? In, like, the middle ages or some shit? âCause thatâs a fucking gnarly way to go.â
âBetter than being stabbed in the back⊠Literally.â
Eddie settles next to you with a huff. He lays on his stomach and shoves half his face into the pillow next to yours, all but melting into the mattress. He keeps tracing the mark on your back with an absentminded touch, never anything but gentle with you.
âWanna know what I heard?â he mumbles.
âHm?â
âI heard that birthmarks are where your lover used to kiss youâ you know, in a past life or whatever,â he confesses, like itâs a deeply held secret. Then he shrugs his milky white shoulders. âThatâs what my mom used to say, anyway. And that woman was never wrong.â
You smile quietly to yourself. Eddie doesnât talk about his mom very often. You feel a special privilege to be hearing about her now.
âI believe it,â you hum.
His contented grin blooms into something wider and more boyish. âThat means someone mightâve been kissing my ass in a past life.â
âThatâs awful,â you grumble with a scrunched nose. âNow, I have to give you a new one.â
âChoose wisely, princess,â Eddie lilts and turns onto his back. He spreads his arms out wide and beams when you lean over him. âMy future depends on it.â
You donât think very long. Maybe a moment or more. You press your lips to his chest, just below the faded tattoo on his pec and right over his beating heart. You smile when you pull away, all giddy like a teenage girl, and lay back down again.
Eddieâs chest sparkles with so much adoration it hurts. He laughs it off anyway. âAlright, cheeseballâ Itâs my turn.â
âYou have to do it in the same place!â you argue in a tiny voice when the boy lays over you. He props his weight on his elbows and entwines his legs with yours. The heavy closeness feels like heaven.
âWhy?â
âSo weâll have matching birthmarks! And then, when weâre in the next life or whatever, and we look like totally different people, weâll know we loved each other.â
Eddie scoffs. âIâll know.â
âHow?â
âHow will I know that I loved you?â he repeats, like the answerâs obvious and far too silly to ponder. You nod, and he shrugs. ââCause I have to. I canât help it.â
Something warm blooms behind your ribcage. âAnd Iâm the cheesy one?â you tease with a big, girlish grin.
âItâs your fault. You bring the worst outta me, honey.â
You laugh when he drops his head to your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart and lingering there. You pray it stains forever.
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Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh đ«
Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!
Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader
Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer
Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.
author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!
đŠđ»Alastorđ»đŠ:
The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demonâs plaything is about the last thing you want to do.Â
Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong.Â
By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.
When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.
He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.
He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them.Â
With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly ârandomâ death could be heard about 3 rings down.Â
While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his motherâs jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up. Â
đđïžCharlieđïžđ:
Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that youâre absolutely 100% okay and comfortable.Â
Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!
Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.
She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.
As you told her, she seemed surprisingly⊠calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room.Â
Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person⊠She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family.Â
đȘœâïžVaggieâïžđȘœ:
Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt.Â
Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you.Â
When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.
Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life.Â
When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. Thatâs alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice.Â
đ·ïžđAngeldustđđ·ïž:
Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever heâs doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever.Â
Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, thatâs not what you need right now. You just need to know that youâre loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.
He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets.Â
âItâs okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.â he whispers as you sob into his chest.
He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits.Â
Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp.Â
He allows the person to live, saying âI am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so⊠whole.â
â„ïžâŠïžHuskâŠïžâ„ïž:
Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.
But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different.Â
âWhat the-What the fuck happened?â he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.
When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.
He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited.Â
You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength. Â
He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him.Â
As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.
When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings.Â
âItâs all okay now. Iâm hereâ he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed.Â
đâïžSir Pentiousâïžđ:
Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.
When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.
Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a⊠black eye?
He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder.Â
When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.
You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk.Â
You could see something change in his eyes.Â
He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.
đđŁLuciferđŁđ:
Bursting into Luciferâs room, the only thing you could mutter is âHelpâ as you fell into his arms.Â
He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success.Â
He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING.Â
When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you.Â
As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how heâll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail.Â
When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and⊠is that a rubber duck that looks like you?
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â
streamer ellie!
ways to help palestine!!!
Sâ
she started with fornite and minecraft gameplays but went viral for playing girly video games and screaming with pure rage and desperation if she loses or if her chat tells her the outfit she made was ugly asfđ
Sâ
she deadass will say âu guys clearly donât know about fashion like i doâ n then pull outfits like this:
Sâ
she used to be so fucking afraid that her face reveal went like dreamâs that she posponed that shit for like a year. when she finally did it she ended the stream, turned off her phone and went to bed covering her body completely, while sniffing and crying âmy career is over â
Sâ
after her face revealed her account went even more viral, people started to make thirst traps of her and edits, videos, even fanfics, she got a little more comfortable with showing her face. her favorite edits were to songs like ride, baby by me, hey daddy (daddyâs home) and a song in spanish called vaquero, they were just so funny to herđ
iloveellie: sheâs daddying so hardâŒïž
ewisinthechat: aw you guys really see me as a father figure?đșđ«¶
brondon444: đ
kvcjjsaj: đ
loverboydsa: đđđ
âhey why is everyone crying in the chat, is everyone okay?â
Sâ
she really loves the cat emojis, specially this one đ»
Sâ
out of all her platforms (aside from twitch) she uses twitter the most, she tweets without a second thought in that head, without filter, like zero hesitation and then apologizes if she said something way too controversial.
ewisinthechat2: have you had that feeling when someone is so stupid you want to stab your eye with a fork? #kys
ewisinthechat2: k, i guess u have notđ
âŠ
Sâ
she was practically new to tiktok, so the first moths she had her likes public, she didnât even know that was possible on the app. but if you click on it all you could see were shit post and memes that a dad would like, all except for a big section of aprox thirteen videos, one after the other, all with the same girl.
sckerforellie18: did u guys saw ellieâs likes? i think sheâs stalking that poor girlđ
slaybabesew: HAHAH WAIT IS REAL, IS SHE HER GILFRIEND???
elliesaheymamasg: sheâs so hot waitđ©
heyemogirlbb: itâs her @girlypop666
Sâ
the chat started to tag you to every single one of her videos on tiktok, her photos on instagram, tagging you on things like âhi, could you please date my mom?đ€â or âmy new mommieđ»â EVEN in her questionable tweets telling you âwe know sheâs crazy but give her a chanceđâ
Sâ
one day you waked up to your phone being practically broken from all the notifications, you still had your little pink iphone 6 and you had to buy another one because of it.
Instagram
girlypop: hi um i donât think we really know each other but people are tagging me on your videosđ love them though
Sâ
ellie was in a stream, the chat had to make her laugh and spit the water so she was reacting to videos that her chat had send her. when that notification appear on the screen, she read it, gulped the water, looked dead ass serious at the camera and turned off the stream.
elliewilliasm: omg hi, im so sorry i didnât know, Iâll tell them to spot
elliewilliasm: spot*
elliewilliasm: STOP**đ
you laughed in your new phone, she was funny, and for what you had seen in all the posts that you were tagged on, very pretty too.
girlypop: hey would you like to grab coffee sometime?
ewisinthechat: TO EVERYBODY IN THE CHAT, THANK YOU, YOU GUYS ARE THE FUCKIN BEST, LOVE YALL, IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU, XOXOđ»đ»đ»đ»
GIVEAWAY COMIN FUCKIN SOONđŻđŻâŒïž
Sâ
she was exhausted when she jumped to her bed, after all the crying, screaming, jumping and the extreme tweeting that just said âYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESâ, she unlocked her phone again.
elliewiliasm: yeah sure :)
REBLOG AND COMENT
IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAG LIST
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TWST Characters - Big Spoon or Little Spoon?
author note: don't ask me what provoked this, i'm writing these silly little headcanons so that i can get it out of my head so i can write the things i'm supposed to be writing! forgive me for my slowness (ïœĄT Ï TïœĄ)
characters: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw & Octavinelle
Heartslabyul
Riddle Rosehearts
Little spoon who thinks he is a big spoon
He will try being both the big spoon and the little spoon respectively
But in his ACADEMIC opinion, he will declare that he is the big spoon
But despite how he insists that he is the big spoon, most nights he ends up falling asleep in your arms
If he wakes up in the middle of the night heâll groggily try to rearrange but it doesnât always work
Donât tease him about it, sometimes he just needs the comfort of being held
Little spoon in denial basically
Ace Trappola
Silly straw who thinks he is a big spoon
No fr this guy will posture and insist that he is 100% big spoon material
But then as SOON as he falls asleep, heâs snoring and throwing his arms around and wiggling around, tossing and turning
Man will NOT keep still
The amount of times youâve kicked him out of bed bc he keeps waking you up with his flailing
Rarely youâll get a night where you comfortably sleep with him as the big spoon but donât get used to it
Deuce Spade
Respectable big spoon
Probably one of the most comfortable people to sleep with
Will cuddle you well enough that you feel soothed but not tight enough that you canât slip out if you want/need to
Always makes sure youâre comfortable, probably to the extent that you have to tell him to stop fretting
Good boy, 10/10
Cater Diamond
Undeniable little spoon
There is no doubt, just hold him pls
His favourite position is with his back to you bc he prefers it if you canât see his face
Canât have you seeing him vulnerable instead of his usual silly, goofy persona
Sometimes tho heâll lay his head against your chest and youâll have a little moment together
But donât mention it otherwise he wonât do it again
Trey Clover
Big spoon
As if there was ever any doubt
He actually really likes spooning, he likes the intimacy
He likes the feel of your heartbeat and being able to stroke a hand through your hair or watch you as you sleep
Plus it is easy for him to slip into bed next to you if heâs stayed up late to finish baking
Savanaclaw
Leona Kingscholar
Big spoon but only because he treats you like a living pillow
I mean letâs be real all this man does is sleep
So there is no way that you will be anything but the little spoon here
Heâll think its funny if you try to be the big spoon and then just push you underneath him and resume business as usual
Spooning with Leona is either incredibly comfortable or the most uncomfortable sleep youâve ever had â there is no in-between
He pretends not to care if you voice any discomfort but genuinely will try to be more attentive in future
Jack Howl
Big spoon
But he goes to bed sooo early so you donât always get to cuddle
Sometimes when you sneak into bed heâll roll over and engulf you in his arms
As if he sensed you in his sleep
But other times Jack sleeps like a rock
So its kind of hit and miss
But when you do get to spoon, it feels like you are encompassed in a huge, never-ending hug
It may even be tempting enough for you to become a morning person, if youâre not already
Ruggie Bucchi
Little spoon 100%
My man just likes to cuddle up after a long day of making thaumarks and running around taking care of Leona
So there is nothing he loves more than snuggling into your chest or side and passing out
Plus being the little spoon makes it a tiny bit easier to slip out in the morning when he has to do one of his early morning jobs or get Leona's breakfast ready
Plus plus having you there makes his bed feel just that little bit more comforting :)
Octavinelle
Azul Ashengrotto
Little spoon who thinks he is a big spoon #2
Youâll fall asleep with him being the big spoon but you always ALWAYS wake up with him somehow in the little spoon position with his arms and legs wrapped around you
Will insist this is a misunderstanding and that he slipped bc heâs still not used to beds yet
He actually loves nothing more than burying his face into your chest and feeling nice and safe
Nevertheless he will go to the grave insisting that he is the big spoon
The biggest little spoon in denial, no one compares
Jade Leech
Big spoon
The only time he is a little spoon is when he gets too excited about mushrooms or something and needs to calm down while you stroke his hair
Otherwise he is a big spoon through and through
Thing is though, his grip is TOO strong
Once you make the decision to spoon with him, there is no escape
His arms will be wrapped so tightly around your waist that you canât even more an inch away from him
He has absolutely no remorse about it either the next morning, heâll just give you his little closed eye smile and be all âwhoopsâ but hold you just as tight the next time
Floyd Leech
Hear me out, hear me out
100% a little spoon
He gives off big spoon energy but actually prefers to wrap himself around you and have you hold him and play with his hair and give him back scratches
Be careful if heâs in a silly goofy mood though because heâll start nipping at you
Thinks its hilarious when youâre relaxing and you suddenly yelp bc heâs nipped at your side
But usually he behaves himself bc sometimes heâs a little touch starved so he really likes it when you hold him
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