#and i have a terrible stomachache that i don’t think is going to go away until it’s my mom’s turn to raise us again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dear-mrs-otome · 1 year

Text

Silvio Ricci - Engagement Event - Another Terrible Summary

(Silvio: "W-what the?")

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes when they come to English.

Things to know before this (THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SILVIO’S MAIN STORY):

It follows the romantic (or ‘canon’) ending to Silvio’s route, which means that he and Emma are already engaged seeing as how they were at the end of his route. It also references the circumstances surrounding that - how Emma posed as a disgraced noblewoman and rescued Silvio from his father and prison by demanding Silvio take responsibility for ‘debauching’ and rescue her honor via marriage. Silvio has also been officially named the king’s successor, and will be the next king of Benitoite when his fathers steps down. It also references the epilogue where Emma works herself ill, and how horrible of a person Silvio's mother was.

~~~~~~~~

The Jewel of the Ocean has been passed to Silvio - recently the news of this has begun to make the rounds through Benitoite, and the topic seems to be on everyone’s lips. The merchants especially are thrilled with this…but that’s not the only tea everyone’s spilling.

We open on a couple of merchants chattering away down by the docks about the approaching engagement ceremony for Prince Silvio where everything is made Official, and the two men are talking about the lucky lady in question. They say how rumors have it she’s a beautiful woman, on par with any national treasure - gifted too, and having had studied at Rhodolite’s court. She’s kind and dang near a saint.

One of them mentions too how he heard how crazy in love with her Silvio was, and how anytime the prince opens his mouth it’s to say something about her, and the other seems impressed and says how much he’s looking forward to the ceremony.

As they pass by and on their way, a figure darts into a nearby alley as if to make an escape…and we find Emma crouching down there, groaning about a stomachache and freaking out in her thoughts over why the heck everyone seems to think she’s some sort of PARAGON.

Silvio’s there, hand on her back and asking if she’s alright, and she confesses she might not be alright. Didn’t he hear all that?? Whose girlfriend are they talking about, this PARAGON OF BEAUTY AND GRACE AND TALENTS, this SAINTLY WOMAN.

Silvio says they’re talking about her, obviously, and Emma says is that really how I seem?!

She’s freaking out, clearly. She’d been super excited to come out on the town with Silvio when he’d asked, their first actual date in awhile, but she’d been totally unprepared for the rumors that are apparently going around about them.

“Doesn’t seem off to me,” Silvio says, matter of factly, and Emma’s over there like PRESS X TO DOUBT. Asking him how that’s so.

He kind of hems and haws a bit, awkward silence and he can’t look her in the eyes as he says she’s beautiful, and plenty capable, and other than being the whole being a bit sassy thing she’s got a pretty decent personality.

Emma’ stunned at actual legit compliments from Silvio, still processing as he points out that it’s better than them gossiping about things that aren’t true or are nasty isn’t it?

“But what about when I’m presented at the engagement ceremony and everyone’s got this sky-high expectations…” she frets. “Everyone will be disappointed when I don’t measure up, and they might say ‘She’s not good enough for Prince Silvio.’”

Of course she’s been giving it her all, ever since they decided to formally announce the engagement alongside the formal declaration of Silvio as the king’s successor. She’s been working her ass off from morning to night studying etiquette and everything else she might need to know as a princess, alongside getting her wardrobe ready and planning the details of the ceremony and the reception party…she’s exhausted, mentally and physically. But even so she wants to be woman worthy of Silvio, the next king.

She tackles him practically with a hug, setting Silvio spluttering and redfaced and reminding her for the umpteenth time she’s supposed to warn him before she does something like that - to which Emma rebuts that if she warns him he still sometimes tries to escape, so it’s best to surprise him.

Burying her face in those hella nice-smelling man tiddies, Emma takes a deep breath of Silvio-scent and is reenergized.

“Where’s your usual sass?” he asks. “Don’t let something like this intimidate you.” He tells her that if everyone’s saying good things about her, all she’s gotta do is be confident and stand tall. But he also chastizes her for being too stubborn and reminds her she doesn’t have to go so dang hard on all this.

“No, no,” Emma argues, saying that if she doesn’t work hard now when will she work hard?

“Not your whole life long,” Silvio counters. “I didn’t bring you here from Rhodolite to make you work yourself like a madwoman. I already told you what the gist of your most important job was, didn’t I?”

His words are a reminder of that day on the beach (at the end of his Romantic route) where he had told her what her most important duty was, as the woman of the next king: to dedicate all that she was to him, and in return he’d love her till she couldn’t stand it.

She's fluent enough in Silvio-ese to see those imperious words for what they really meant - he wants the kind of relationship where he can love and be loved in equal measure. And she realizes she must seem pretty exhausted if Silvio is worrying about her this much. He's bossy as all getup…but he's hella overprotective.

She lifts her head and there's those sea-blue eyes right in front of her - along with a suspicious Silvio. Who has right to be because she surprise kisses him. He's left wide eyed and surprised as she tells him she was thinking how she loves him.

He points out that came from left field and she’s just shrug - and then Silvio has his revenge by taking her chin in hand and laying a passionate kiss on her that has her scandalized. They’re still in public technically and all! He laughs at her hnnng face and she’s silently fuming over how only a few seconds ago it was him all embarrassed and now he’s Mr. Cocky, pouting as she looks away and he tousles her hair.

“Anyway, you get what I’m sayin’?” he asks.

She asks if he’s referring to her trying too hard, and he confirms - only to get angry again when she says she’ll accept his sentiment at least but she’s gotta be able to stand proudly beside him if he’s going to love her, and although he might worry about her she asks him to please let her do her best for now.

He’s glowering silently, and she tells him he’s got his scary face on.

He says it’s probably because she’s totally missing the point of what he’s trying to say, and she fires back that he’s too overprotective.

“Shaddup,” he scowls.

“But I love that about you too!” she declares, and he turns red and tells her not to get carried away. Clearly not disliking her claim - he’s just obviously embarrassed by it.

The whole situation might be literally making her feel ill, but she’s not about to back down from this challenge. If she’s gonna share a life with Silvio, she’s got to be able to handle something like this.

~~~~~~~~

The next day, Rio stops her in the hallway and asks if she’s doing alright. He’s gotten his memory back now and works as Silvio’s aide, but still never hesitates to show concern for her as well just as he always has.

He asks if she has a fever, and she’s dklsjfds HOW DID HE KNOW?? She had woken up that morning lethargic and unwell, but it’s nothing major - more like the bit of fever she’d come down with when she’d overworked herself when first coming to Benitoite.

She assures Rio she’s fine it’s nbd, but he’s not happy with that answer,worried it might get worse and urging her to take a day off or so - before he cuts himself off and realizes she can’t.

A fact she confirms, because she’s supposed to be hosting a party today to meet and greet many of the young noblewomen of the country before the engagement ceremony. It’s hella important for her to lay the groundwork of future relationships here, and to help her make friends and ease into Benitoite society better. So even if she has to push herself, she’s gotta make it through today at least.

“Rio, pleeeeaaase. Don’t say a word to Silvio,” she begs him.

“...If he finds out, he’ll lock you up for sure,” Rio agrees with chagrin. He’s clearly not thrilled with her request, but she knows he can’t deny her, and reluctantly he agrees to keep mum on this - but he tells her he’ll have medicine ready, and reminds her if she gets any worse to cancel things, consequences be damned. He and Silvio can more than handle the fallout, and it won’t reflect badly on her.

She thank him, glad that it was Rio who noticed she was sick. If it had been Silvio, she’s positive things wouldn’t have gone this smoothly…and she vows to herself to be sure to avoid him at all costs today.

~~~~~~~~

…Only for us to open the next scene aboard a ship, with a silently staring Silvio, and an oh shit Emma.

Given that she’s to be royalty, and given the traditions of Benitoite amongst the elite to throw parties not at mansions but on board ships, she’d asked Silvio to arrange one to host her party on. This particular vessel is one of Silvio’s own, and it wouldn’t be strange to see the owner aboard - if it had been a day without business meetings or other things on his agenda.

Why is he here?!?!

She’d been making the rounds, greeting all the ladies aboard before the ship was set to depart, when the tyrant himself had appeared all of a sudden and grabbed her by the hand. “Let’s go.”

She vehemently protests this idea, and he scowls over the fact that she can put up such an argument when she’s feverish - which has her now wondering how the eff does he know about her being sick?! No wait, more importantly, she KNOWS he’s got a packed schedule today!

She’s digging in her heels just as hard as he’s trying to drag her off, insisting all the while that he’s just imagining things.

“If you think I’m gonna buy that, you must have a flower garden for a brain,” he fires back. (Hello Motonari?)

“Flower garden or whatever, read the room!” she scolds him, At first, most people didn’t seem to know what to make of her as the next king’s fiancée…and now they’re all just looking on this scene in shock. The whole party is ruined!

He scoffs at the need to do anything of the sort, and as she keeps trying to resist he finally just picks her up and goes to make off with her.

“Knock it off,” Rio sighs. “Can’t you see she’s not having any of this?”

Now Emma’s stunned, realizing Rio is there too and blocking Silvio’s path, shaking his head. Silvio says he doesn’t give a shit if she doesn’t like it, and Rio reminds him he should and urges him to put Emma down.

“If I put her down, she’ll run away,” Silvio counters.

“If you know she’s gonna run away, then you clearly know you shouldn’t be forcing her,” Rio frowns.

“Shut up. I don’t need you telling me what to do,” Silvio argues.

Emma realizes it’s no use when Silvio’s gotten himself worked up like this, and if she throws a fit and ends up getting herself hurt it’ll just make him all depressed. She tries to shoot Rio a wink to say it’s alright, and seeing this Rio immediately goes into crisis-containment mode - apologizing to all the guests for the fuss his ‘idiot brother’ has made with his usual charm and charisma.

In moments he has all the ladies gathered there eating out of his hand, showing off his now-practiced socialite face, the one he’s been honing more now that he’s in the public eye as Silvio’s aide.

While a grateful Emma watches him charm them all, she suggests to Silvio they take this somewhere else to talk and he seems to agree. Still pissy though as he kicks in the door to a nearby room on the ship and carries her inside the space as luxurious as any fine room on land.

The silence though is so absolute you could hear a pin drop, only the sound of the wind and the waves, before Silvio finally speaks.

“Did you take any medicine?” he asks, taking a seat on a chair. Still holding Emma in his arms.

She tells him she did, before she came aboard, but realizes that if he doesn’t know whether she did or not he clearly must not have talked to Rio. Not to mention she highly doubts Rio would break his promise to her. “How did you know I was sick?”

He says she just doesn’t seem to have her usual vim and vigor, and that has her taken aback slightly to realize that Silvio’s been paying close enough attention to her to take note of such a minor change.

“When would you have noticed that?” she asks, baffled. There shouldn’t have been any occasion for him to see her that morning.

“When you were talking with everyone back at the port,” he explains.

“You’ve been watching me for awhile then, I take it?” she asks, but he refuses to answer that. “What about your work?”

“...It’s all finished,” he finally replies.

She’s still in disbelief at that, because the day is hardly even close to over, but Silvio waves it off as merely being damn good at his job. Emma’s not buying this though, and she points out that even if he IS hella capable it seems impossible he’d have the time to come by the port after his work was done.

Scowling he tells her to knock the line of questioning off - he’s clearly not interested in spending any more time on the topic, and he tells her once again they should leave.

There’s still a million things she wants to say, but she settles on this. “Do you really not trust me?” He wants to know why that’s even a question, and she goes on to elaborate. “Even if I say I’m fine, you seem to refuse to believe me at all.”

He lapses into a shocked silence at that.

It’s the same thing as yesterday, Emma thinks. Silvio worries about her more than anyone else in the world, and he’s trying to shelter and protect her as his fiancée…but that’s not what she wants. If she back down here, if she lets him have his way, he’ll spoil her for the rest of her life.

Meeting his displeased gaze, she cradles his cheeks in her hands. “Is your fiancée such a frail woman? Did I not once rescue a prince locked in prison?” His expression sobers as she goes on. “I love ‘Overprotective Silvio’ too, but…trust me now. And when it’s all over, you can tell me ‘good job’ all you want. I’m not marrying you to be cosseted - I want to be your betrothed so that we can stay by each other’s side and be there for each other in the hard times and the good.”

Silvio remains silent, and she can’t read his expression well enough to tell if he’s convinced or not. So, feeling as if she has no other choice…she takes him off guard with a swift kiss to the deep frown carved in his forehead and slips off his lap as he’s still stunned, racing out the door and back to freedom outside.

“Ah, damn it, she ran away.” Silvio curses aloud in the empty room…before he quietly states that she hasn’t said anything he doesn’t already know.

~~~~~~~~

PREMIUM END: HIS POV

Ever since I fell in love with that woman, I’ve been saying strange things. Even though I know it’s all just a burden on her…

From the shadows of the back alley, Silvio sneaks a peek at Emma chatting with the women at the port. The dress she’s wearing today is supposed to be a simple, refined design - but when Emma wears it she’s stunning, like a rose in bloom that charms everyone with its beauty. It’s a sight he could stare at forever….but he sighs when he feels the presence of someone else in the empty alley.

“Hey, don’t follow me, damn dog,” he grumbles at Rio.

Rio scoffs at that. “It’s my job to bring back the idiot prince who left his job.”

Silvio’s annoyed by that, as Rio comes to stand beside him and look over at him incredulously. Silvio defends his leaving by saying he’s done the essentials at least, but Rio points out there’s still a bunch of paperwork left to tackle.

“It’s fine if it waits until tomorrow. I’ve got more important things to do,” Silvio argues.

“You’re too overprotective, no two ways about it,” Rio sighs.

“Shut up,” Silvio retorts. “ She doesn’t exactly take very good care of herself, so better overprotective than not.”

Rio doesn’t say anything in reply to that, and Silvio lapses into musing to himself how Emma just casually does reckless things - she’d already worked herself into collapsing from fever once before. And when he’d taken her out on the town the other day, it was obvious the pressure and exhaustion were getting to her. Trying to reassure her about the rumors the merchants were spreading due to his own infatuation had only seemed to make things worse, and made him worry more. Hence his clandestine party watching.

He was right to come, though, he reasons as he clicks his tongue with irritation at the distant Emma and observes she’s def not feeling well.

“You noticed?” Rio asks, and Silvio points out to him how Emma’s lacking her usual spark. Rio seems surprised that Silvio can tell that from even this far away…but to himself, Silvio thinks how it’s not any wonder he could see that, given how much time he spends watching Emma.

But…can he really let her go to that party in such a state??

He takes a step forward as if to follow her onto the boat, only for Rio to stop him. “Hey! Don’t interrupt! You know Emma doesn’t want your help.”

That just pisses Silvio off, that Rio thinks he knows what Emma’s thinking. But most of all, he hates this - he can’t stand seeing Emma in pain or suffering.

~~~~~~~~

After the party, in the carriage he’s stuffed Emma into the moment it was over, the world’s longest and most awkward silence reigns until Emma’s finally fed up.

“Ahhhhrgh! What’s with the silence?!” she cries.

Silvio can’t think of what to say though, wracked with guilt as Emma’s words keep coming back to him.

“Do you really not trust me?”

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in her, things just sort of ended up this way, and he’s frustrated trying to think of what else he should have done. Is she really trying to tell him that leaving her to her fever was the right thing to do?? He’s got things he wants to say to her, but he can’t seem to get his thoughts together well enough to articulate it no matter how desperately he wants to…and he only grows more frustrated with himself for not being able to put his feelings into words.

“If you have something to say, just say it!” she tells him.

“Sick people shouldn’t be shouting,” he scowls.

“I am not sick,” Emma argues.

He tells her not to lie, even as he concedes that her complexion’s improved at least. Putting a hand to her forehead to test her temperature, which seems normal now.

She suggests it might be due to her stress finally having ended, but to himself Silvio still vows to have a doctor take a look at her when they get home.

“You had a stomach ache the other day, and a fever today,” Silvio frowns.

“It’s fine to be a bit under the weather, as long as you get through it,” Emma counters. To himself he thinks that he’d do something about it long before it got to that point, but his train of thought is cut off when she prompts him again. “So, back to the subject -”

He’s still silent, unable to find the words, and feigns ignorance as he pointedly stares out the window to avoid her. The sea outside the carriage is calm, but his heart is in turmoil, as if struck by some great storm.

“The ocean is beautiful today, isn’t it?” Emma asks, seemingly having given up on the conversation as she looks out at the scenery as well.

“You wanna stop and see?” he offers, and she asks if that’s okay.

He tells her he’s got nothing else going on today…but he’s thinking how much he knows going to the beach makes her happy. And he’ll get this all straightened out, he’s determined.

With the sunset for a backdrop, he and Emma stroll along the beach - but he can’t stop the frown from creeping back onto his face, and Emma is too sharp to miss the expressions he makes.

“Are you angry?” she asks finally.

“Not with you,” he replies.

“Then, who are you angry with?” she presses.

“Myself of course, I guess,” he admits, and falls into his own thoughts again.

He knows the sort of woman Emma is, and yet he dared try and stomp all over her will. And worst of all, even though he was aware of it, all he could seem to do was annoy her.

Truth be told he, he’s really pissed at himself.

Emma comes to a stop, and he does as well a few steps later. The sound of the crashing waves seeming to chide the silence.

“I know it’s a selfish worry,” Silvio begins. He says that he knows being exhausted or anxious isn’t any sort of reason to shirk your role, and that he knows she wants to fulfill her duty as the king’s consort perfectly. Even though it’s not easy, he shouldn’t have thought trying to escape it was the right thing.

“You realize all that, and yet you still tried to take me away today?” Emma presses.

He admits that he does, he gets all of this and he knows all of it, but he still can’t help what he thinks. “I don’t want you to have to suffer because of me…” Silvio says, resigned. “I honestly don’t know how to make the woman I love happy.”

In the past, he was always surrounded by nothing but money. Never truly wishing to make someone else happy, so he’s clueless in this regard. But…Emma’s happiness is the only thing he ever wants. If money could buy it for her, he’d gladly spend every last penny he had…but that would never work.

He’s at a complete loss, fumbling like some kind of child. And that feeling has only grown stronger as the preparations for their engagement ceremony began and the burden fell harder on Emma. Working herself half to death like this, is she really happy?? True happiness should be her having the freedom to laugh, foolishly carefree, all the time.

He’s well aware that he’s hopelessly lost here, because he doesn’t understand the happiness of others.

“Sometimes, it occurs to me…” Emma begins, and he looks at her quizzically. “That you’re pretty adorable, aren’t you, Silvio!”

Scowling and redfaced, he asks if she’s trying to pick a fight - here he is, tying himself up into knots over this and she’s over there grinning?!

He grabs her head and musses it a bit, and she laughs out apologies.

“Quit grinning,” he grouses.

“People tend to do that when they’re happy,” she tells him, and he wonders aloud what exactly about what he just said made her feel happy. “All of it.”

He’s baffled, but Emma goes on to tell him she’s happy every day, actually.

“That’s coming from the woman who was on the ground with a stomachache yesterday?” he argues.

Emma says she was mostly joking around, and he was egging it on kind of too even, wasn't he? He’s still confused how that would make her happy, and she tells him it DOES, because it’s obvious how Silvio loves her with every bit of himself…a revelation that only leaves him stunned.

“I can do my very best every day because of you, and I want to work through it,” she explains. “You are my happiness.”

He’s unable to process this, reeling as he tries to puzzle it out. Emma is adored by so many people, unlike him - he never considered that something as simple as being loved would bring her happiness.

Aloud, he wonders if his worries seem stupid, and if something that simple is really enough to make her happy.

“It’s not that simple,” she assures him. “You’re the first person who makes me happy just by being there.”

He’d thought…that it was just him that felt like that. That surely Emma, who is used to being loved by everyone, would feel differently.

Or so he’d thought.

Without even realizing it, a smile comes to his face.

“Silvio…are you happy?” Emma asks.

He gives her crap about her eyes being blind, before admitting that he wouldn’t be smiling if he wasn’t happy right? She joyfully agrees, and offers him a smile brighter and more dazzling than the setting sun. The look of someone truly happy.

He does have something he wants to say to her - it’s finally hit him. Even with his worry for her, the overprotectiveness and being a burden on her, there’s just one feeling he wants to be sure she’s aware of.

“I’ll say this just one time,” he tells her, schooling his expression to seriousness. The midsummer sun shining on him, so hot he’s practically sweltering…but he wants to be sure he shares this with her before the ceremony. He takes a deep bracing breath of the sea breeze, and blows it out. “You’re the only one I’d ever be such a fool in love for.”

I can’t remember who I was before I met you, he thinks. That’s how crazy he is about her.

“I’m only going to say that once in my life,” he prompts her again, as she remains utterly silent. Vaguely affronted as her face remains turned down at the words he’d thrown away all his shame and pride to utter. “How can you not say anything?”

Now it’s just getting embarrassing, and he’s silently pleading with her to say something, anything at all. Grasping her chin and tilting her head up - only to find Emma’s face bright red, the deep blush covering even her ears and neck. Not a trace of her usual sass to be found.

“D-don’t look at me!” she sputters.

He’s blown away by her face, before he grins and tells her she’s 100% adorable, which only has her gasping that it’s a low blow to say something like that now.

He’ll take the cheater accusation though, gladly, he says…and to himself he’s thinking how gd frigging much he loves her as he steals those warm lips. Kissing her to keep her from realizing how head over heels he is too.

This moment, mesmerized and lost in her, with the sound of the waves crashing distantly - this is the most priceless of treasures. Something he could never ever buy, not with all the riches in the world.

~~~~~~~~

A few days later, the ceremony takes place to name Silvio heir and Emma his fiancee properly. Thanks to her efforts, the party goes off splendidly…

For some reason, the soon-to-abdicate king stops Silvio in an out of the way corner. He’s frustrated at being kept from Emma, but he bites back the urge to lash out over the waste of time.

“Hey, old geezer. If you don’t have shit to say, I’m gonna leave,” Silvio warns.

“Still talking like that? If you’re going to be king, you should at least clean up that filthy mouth,” the king warns.

Silvio says he only talks like that to the king, and he dismisses him, ready to leave, when the king stops him. He tells Silvio they’re not finished talking yet, and he offers the prince a drink. Practically shoving it into Silvio’s hand and filling it to the brim - a tradition for greeting and for blessing happy occasions in Benitoite.

Unhappy but unable to refuse, Silvio drains the glass in one go…and the old man does the same.

“You…” the old king begins. “Aren’t really like ‘her’ after all, I guess.”

The ‘her’ in question is his mother, Silvio knows. And just thinking of the woman who laughed as she tried to murder the current queen countless times makes him feel sick to his stomach. “Who’d wanna be like that bitch? I have no interest in being some kind of beast. Course, I’ve got no interest in being a nasty old codger like you either.”

The old king angrily says Silvio’s got a real gift for distracting him. “I thought I’d congratulate you even if it’s just a formality, but I guess that’s not necessary.”

“Ha, just now figuring that out?” Silvio scoffs.

The only one the king’s ever given a shit about was that fucking dog - it seems too late to try and be putting on an air of fatherly concern now, Silvio thinks. He slams the glass down on a nearby table and turns away.

“Do a good job, Silvio,” the king says to his back. “...It’s hard work making a woman happy in this position.”

He doesn’t need to be told something like that, he thinks. He already knows. The current queen has had her life threatened many times because of her position, and the king can’t keep her safe from everything. “Don’t worry, old man,” he tells the king as a parting shot. “Unlike you, I’m plenty capable.”

I’ll never make you unhappy, is his silent vow to Emma.

~~~~~~~~

Back in Silvio’s room, he’s got a new trial to deal with - the fact that by the time he escaped the old man and made it back to Emma, it was clearly too late. His fiancee is utterly obliterated after being toasted by so many well-wishers, and is uncharacteristically rather tipsy. Giggling at him and generally acting drunk now that they’re safely in private, although she’d managed to keep it together at the party and present a sober front.

She pleads with Silvio to acknowledge how well she did after drinking so much, and he grudgingly does - scowling though as he says how everyone in Benitoite is used to this sort of thing as a celebration but she’s from Rhodolite and not yet, so she shouldn’t overdo it.

“Okaaaaay,” she draws out.

“Can you drink some water?” he asks, and she proudly agrees she can manage that, downing a glass…but she’s getting as much of it on herself as she is in her mouth, spilling out around the edges.

“No, clearly you can’t. Are you doing that on purpose?” he asks suspiciously - it wouldn’t be the first time Emma has pretended to be drunk around him. (She does this in his route and forces him to carry her back to the carriage) But he’s pretty sure she’s not faking it this time…and he’s trying real hard not to be a perv and ogle the way she’s gotten the whole front of her dress wet.

He pushes the naughty thoughts aside and takes a nearby cloth to dry her off, which leads to her smiling up at him all dazedly and hugging him tightly.

“W-what the?” he asks, flustered.

“Silvio…tonight…is the first night since we got engaged,” she points out.

He’s still redfaced and silent as he notices the Benitoite gem winking on her ring finger, the one he’d given her as an engagement ring. An unmistakable reminder of the way their relationship had officially changed that leaves him reeling.

“I—I want to tell you that I love you a lot,” Emma goes on. “I love you so much Silvio!!”

And he’s left at an utter loss as to what he should do now…

TBC in epilogue!

~~~~~~~~

taglist: @violettduchess @just-simping-over-genshin @sakura-samsara

Want to be added to the taglist for summaries? Comment on this post!

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri silvio #spoiler #spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #mrs o's translations of dubious quality #have i mentioned lately how much i love them as a couple #and i love his MC

254 notes · View notes

maccreadysbaby · 7 months

Note

how do I write a character with emetophobia?

Writing Characters with Emetophobia!

from your neighborhood emetophobia haver, aka me!

TW for emetophobia things under the cut (emetophobia is a fear of vomit or vomiting)

so you want your character to have some quirky fear, and the fear of puking is what you landed on! I’m here to tell you what it’s like to have severe emetophobia and what that entails for my life. all of these struggles and symptoms are personal and doesn’t apply to everyone with emetophobia. it is a very individual phobia, this is just how my body and mind reacts

Living with Emetophobia ↴

this post has no real structure, it’s more or less just things that have happened to me. i’ve had this phobia since my inception, so here’s a list of things your characters with emetophobia might do.

Avoiding foods or actions that (probably won’t, but could) trigger sickness: I was terrified to eat anything that contained dairy because — one singular time — I heard that milk makes you throw up if you have a fever and I swore it off from the time I was 8 until I was about 12. I was literally nine years old reading labels in the store for dairy and violently throwing it back on the shelves if it contained it. Not to mention my mother was lactose intolerant (Which I’m not) but seeing her fall at the hands of dairy didn’t make me feel any better about it. During this phase I only ate about three things and you literally couldn’t get me to eat anything else to the point where I was nearly anorexic. Once my friend told me she coughed so hard she threw up and I didn’t let myself cough when I was sick for a long time after. I also ran away from anyone who coughed near me. (I was such a psycho.) Now I will eat most foods given to me, but if something repeatedly offends my stomach, I usually just stop. I’m not so dramatic about it anymore lol. (I am much healthier now, too.)

Literally running away from sick people: I will never forget one time, my brother got sick. I wasn’t even in the same room as him. My mom yelled “maccreadysbaby, can you bring me some wipes?” I did. And as soon as I saw what happened I threw them at her, ran across the house, hid behind the couch, covered my ears and started crying. Another time, my mom informed me that my brother had thrown up while I was not home for a few days, and I avoided him like the plague. Literally like I would die if I touched him. My parents stopped telling me if my siblings got sick while I was away after that. When I was in gradeschool, a classmate got sick on a Tuesday and I was fine for the rest of the week. Then I puked on Saturday. For years afterwards, if I was ever around a sick person, I’d always count four days and if I didn’t throw up on day four, finally relax. (Again, I was such a psycho.) This instinct is still here as an adult. For example, my sister just recently thought she was gonna get carsick (while I was in the back with her) and let me tell you I was so squished up to my door I couldn’t breathe. I still sort of do the day counting thing if I’m completely honest, but I’m not so terrified and incessant about it.

Thinking that they’re sick all the time: This was a terribly big thing for me. For a span of 5ish years, at the same time I swore off dairy, I basically categorized myself as gonna throw up all of the time, even when I was perfectly freaking fine. I woke up, assumed I would puke that day, because why wouldn’t I, and triggered my anxiety. Which would actually trigger stomachaches and stuff. I would sit on the stairs and beg and cry until my parents let me stay home from school, and we almost had to go to court for the amount of school I was missing because I pulled this crap every day. This phase of my life only ended when my mom took me to the doctor (while I was literally fine) and made him tell me I was just anxious and not actually going to puke. (As you can see, I was a very fun child to raise.) I don’t behave this way anymore, but if my stomach does hurt for some reason, I immediately spiral into oh SHITE not HAPPENING territory.

Have debilitating anxiety: This is one of the things on this list that still happens to me regularly. If my stomach hurts in any capacity (even on my period) I am immediately thrusted into I’m gonna freaking puke mode. I get really cold, start sweating, start trembling (like, shake the whole couch trembling) and just sit there while my anxiety eats my brain. I can’t move because some part of me thinks moving an inch is going to make me puke. No matter how much I tell myself you’re fine, you’re not going to puke, this happens to you every day and you haven’t thrown up since you were twelve, you’re being so dramatic, it doesn’t stop. I just have to sit there and wallow in my pain and anxiety until my stomach stops hurting. Then I laugh at myself for being stupid and move on, even though I routinely worry about it coming back throughout the day. If it does I rinse and repeat. If I do puke (which I fortunately haven’t done since I was twelve) I can confidently say there’d be a lot of crying and minimal screaming about how I’m gonna die.

Here’s a recent (as of literally this morning) emetophobic thought pattern for you to analyze, to help you understand what your characters minds might be doing when they’re freaking out:

I received a text that my cousin, who I saw last night, was throwing up. I was still asleep but I woke up and checked my phone anyways. This was my exact thought process.

oh SHITE I was around him, wasn’t I? Well, I guess not a lot, he spoke to me a few times and I was near him at the campfire, but I maybe not enough to make me sick. But you know who was around him? My freaking sister. And if she gets sick there’s no hope for me. oh my GOD does my stomach hurt right now? I think it does. Wait, shut up, maccreadysbaby, you’re being stupid. Think about something else and go back to sleep. Why are you SHAKING stop being so pathetic. Your stomach totally hurts right now. You have plans today maccreadysbaby you can NOT get sick you can NOT be the reason your plans are canceled. I’m totally going to throw up today as life’s way of spiting me. Shut up and go to sleep, you weren’t even around him. But I WAS we ALL were, sitting across the table doesn’t count as being far away. Maybe he just got carsick or has acid reflux or something. Today is Saturday so if I make it to Wednesday I should be fine. But what if I ACTUALLY throw up I don’t even want to think about it oh my God what if I do? Okay, you’re fine, shut up and go back to sleep.

I went back to sleep (eventually) and woke up twice more to go through that entire process again before my alarm went off. It’s basically that on repeat every time I hear of a sick person or my stomach hurts. Fun times 😬👍.

#life #writing help #writing angst #original writing #creative writing #writers #writing #writerscommunity #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing tips

49 notes · View notes

tyforthevnm · 1 year

Text

Interview: frnkiero andthe cellabration

By: Kelly Gonsalves for Pop Break

Posted on September 3, 2014

When he was just a teenager, Frank Iero began having pangs of pain in his stomach after eating. Soon after he learned from his doctors that he has a “bacterial overgrowth of the lower intestine,” which, among many other symptoms, causes the stomach to send signals to the body that it’s in pain while it’s digesting food. The end result: a lifetime of nausea, medication, steroid treatment and stomachaches.

“I think anytime you’re dealing with pain management […], it makes everything difficult,” Iero tells me. “If you’re constantly nauseous and just not well, it kind of zaps your – especially your creative side – but it kind of zaps your whole personality. If you don’t feel well, you don’t want to do anything.”

But while the reaction of most might be to crawl under the covers, sulk and never get out of bed for the rest of eternity – and the former My Chemical Romance guitarist admits he used to fall into this spell of despair all the time as well – Iero soon found a way to channel that pain into something else.

“I found for me, being creative and writing songs or writing short stories or creating something or poetry or something like that – if it came out good, if I enjoyed it, I could kind of ride that creative high for at least a day or two. And I felt normal again,” he says. “I would have to force myself to do something productive, and then it made me forget about myself.”

Last week, Iero released his first solo album, stomachaches., a compilation of 12 songs written almost two years ago during one of his worst bouts with his digestive condition. Toward the end of 2012, the multi-instrumentalist began creating music in a makeshift studio in his basement as a means of diverting his attention away from his physical ailments. He recorded most of them in early 2013, just as My Chemical Romance was winding down. The songs, he says, were never meant to be heard by another soul other than himself, let alone to be actually released for public consumption.

After MCR finally called it quits in March 2013, Iero’s focus turned to Death Spells, a two-man project with former MCR touring keyboardist James Dewees that had been brewing for almost a year. Death Spells did some touring, and those solo songs written in the basement saw the stage every now and then just for kicks. It was around this time people started telling Iero he should think about talking to labels.

It all came together this June, when he announced his signing to Staple Records. His new solo project, frnkiero andthe cellabration, was born.

“Everything’s different,” he says. “It’s strange. With this, it was written because over the time as I felt terrible, I would go downstairs, and I would just write, you know? There wasn’t a deadline. There wasn’t a record. There wasn’t a label. No one knew I was doing anything.”

And he has every reason to “cellabrate” – it’s a real success story when you think about it. After all the push and pull, Iero has a tangible product to show for it all. The experience has definitely been “rewarding,” he tells me, despite all the physical turmoil that inspired the album.

“I think now my life has changed enough, you know, having kids and all,” he says. “I kind of wanted to show them that you can take a bad thing and turn it into something positive if you put your mind to it. And that was, for me, taking a defiant stand against it. If you’re not going to go away, then I’m at least going to get something out of you.”

The bold spirit is very characteristic of the punk rocker – one look at the music video for thecellabration’s single “.weighted.” tells you the man is not faint of heart in the least. (Spoiler alert: It gets real ugly real fast.)

But what does catch me a little off guard is the softness found in the underbelly of everything he says. He is gentler than expected, both in his tone and in his perspective toward the world. His children, for instance, repeatedly come up in our conversation. When I ask about his upcoming tour with Taking Back Sunday and The Used, his excitement to show off his new work is mixed in with some nervousness about leaving his family behind.

“I think the hardest part to come to grips with is that when you’re away for so long, it’s hard – it sounds stupid – but it’s hard to remember that life doesn’t stop at home,” he says. “Like you go away and two years later you come back, and your loved ones are older, and things have changed. They’re like strangers. It fucks with your head, you know?”

His three kids are now old enough to miss him, to say “come home.” It scares him, he says with a half-hearted chuckle.

Still, it’s something he almost needs to do, he says. His creative outlets – browsing through his personal website reveals the man’s talents rest not only in music but in poetry, photography, short stories, to name a few – are what keeps him sane. These artistic expressions are what keep him in the state of mind he needs to be in to do the things he needs to do.

“I’ve started to realize that in order for me to be the person I wanna be, the dad I wanna be, the husband I wanna be, I need to satisfy this creative side because that keeps me level. And then I can ride that level and be happy,” he says. “So that’s where I’m at. The only thing now is trying to find that happy medium.”

—

frnkiero andthe cellabration will perform at the Gamechanger World in Howell, NJ, on September 6. Click here for tickets.

#frank iero #fiatc #interview #archived #rica.archive #september 3 2014 #september 2014 #2014

58 notes · View notes

josiebelladonna · 8 months

Text

Perform a word association exercise with the word “sex.”

Nausea. Discomfort. “Big deal”. “No big deal.” Deserving. Undeserving. A contest. Popularity. Anxiety. Depression. Trash. Garbage. Taboo. Caught. Emptiness. Blackness. Immaturity. Disillusioned. Bored. Boring. Boredom. Lame. Uncomfortable. Elusive. Anger. Heartache. Heartbreak. Headaches. Stomachaches. Achy joints. Diseases. Infections. Oversaturation. Annoying. Obnoxious. Violence. Mistrust. Traditions. Daydreams. Nightmares. Awfulness. Disgusting. Stupidity. Tears. Cutting. Hitting. Horror. Trauma. Crosses. Bibles. Eye rolls. Pathetic. Arrogance. Powerless. Hopeless. Useless. Listlessness. Indifference. Anxiety. Uncaring. Cruelty. “Point and laugh.” Ridicule. Tedium. Unsafe. Abuse. Trauma. Bullshit. Horseshit. Gun to my head. Children. Babies. Baby fever. Tools. Sterility. Fertility. Infertility. Pointless. Pleasureless. Mindless. Loveless. Lies. Liars. Ugly. Cold. Gross. Unnatural. Cringe. Avoidance. Pain.

Would you say that you have or have not had a strong sexual drive in your life? How does and did this level of sexual drive affect your intimate relationships?

I don’t have a strong sex drive. In fact, I don’t think I ever had a sex drive. I barely masturbate, and the times I do, it has not given me any good feelings. Maybe… fleeting feelings of lust but it was nothing strong or powerful, though. It always wells up only to go away again. I just ask myself, “why bother? There’s no one here tickling my fancy, so why bother developing something that somewhat resembles to an appetite.” I know I’m not asexual because I have actually felt it before.

I’m not a sexual being. I’m a lonely person with creepy tendencies. I’m not a sexy person, and I have never seen myself as such when I think about it.

Growing up, I just told people I was straight because I didn’t want them to know that I’m actually not. But… I do love men, though. I really love men, actually. I think men are absolutely gorgeous and decadent and sexy. Hell, I have a crush on a man right now. But I also love women, and nonbinary people. I landed on pansexual. It’s good to know that there’s a name for it, but I still have so much shame and anxiety and frustration about it. I can’t picture myself with someone, no matter what gender they are, out of both the fact that I’m just terrible at meeting someone and the fact that my severe lack of libido scares me. I’m frustrated by the mere presence of my own sexuality that I don’t know what to do with it and I have disowned it. It’s not mine and it never was mine to begin with. I want you to make fun of it because I know it’s stupid. You’re not gonna hurt my feelings by pointing and laughing, if anything I expect it. “It’s natural, enjoy yourself!” If it’s so fucking natural, why does no one care about it?

What struggles have you had with your sexuality?

I just keep hitting my head against the wall with these stupid, cringe questions in the hope that they should be helping me unpack the shame but they only make me feel worse because I remember how much of a fool I am. I vent but I find no way out of it. The suggested way out of it is so hackneyed that I don’t even want to bother trying it. There has to be a better way.

I don’t know how to feel comfortable with my desires and every time I try and seek out advice on how to feel more comfortable with them, it just… doesn’t feel good enough. The fact I seek out advice should say that I want to feel comfortable, but it’s not enough. The other thing is I have very specific taste. I read erotica or kink and there’s just so much more of it every time I turn around it seems, and none of it gets me rolling. Maybe I’m just picky, i’ll admit it.

When I was a teenager, no one ever made a pass on me, and I don’t understand why this is so hard to understand, either. Girls didn’t like me, period, and boys always gave me that awkward little smile whenever our eyes met. I didn’t actually start getting looks until about two years ago. I never dressed the part: I didn’t have to, even though I did consider it at times.

I feel so much shame about my sexuality that I find it hard to even so much as move some days. It’s a dead weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe. Sex is just… something I don’t think about, and something I actually don’t want, either, like when I really think about it, I can take it or leave it. “It’s a beautiful, natural thing!” I see help bloggers tell me. Is it really, though? What’s beautiful about the hordes of consequences to it? What’s beautiful about having your body violated? What’s beautiful about the inability to orgasm, either by nature or outside circumstances catching up to you? What’s beautiful about putting your faith in someone else and your relationship with them can end randomly at any time? Call me cynical, but I can’t think about sex or relationships without thinking about the worst parts of it.

I don’t think about it all the time because I really have no reason to. I get no questions or interest in this part of me anyway, so why bother? And whenever I do, it’s always presumptuous. Everyone always thought I was seeing someone and they were shocked when I said I was single. Now I get absolutely nothing. I’m not saying I miss being interrogated like that—and the day I do is the day we’re all fucked—but why should I even bother putting inventory in something that no one cares about and I find unpleasant to talk about on top of that. It’s unpleasant. My sexuality is unpleasant and worth no one’s time. Not an iota of good feelings or memories to be found here. No, it’s all shit. It’s all garbage.

I always befriended guys, too, and everyone always thought we were “a relationship” (never was, though, it was all platonic), so when I befriended more, I would hear words like “player” or “not like the other girls” or “secretly lesbian” thrown my way when none of it was true. It got lonely really quick.

Another struggle is labeling it. OH GOD THIS. That whole phase I went through in 2021-2022 consisted of nothing but this, and i’m admittedly back there again. It always feels like I have a gun to my head, too, like I’m supposed to figure out a label and NOW. They’ll tell you to take your time with it and, believe me I did. But when you’re changing labels like people change their socks, and you’re surrounded by people who are just soooo comfortable in their fucking precious sexuality, it becomes less reassuring so fast. “But you’re not alone!” I have really grown to dislike the whole “you’re not alone” mantra mainly because it’s everywhere. You see the same word or phrase over and over again that it loses meaning.

I think my desires are trash and I don’t see eye to eye with the “real” raunchy people on this, either. I’m supposed to just be into good ol fashioned missionary and cowgirl and doggy style and maybe some light bdsm, any other kinks are weird and gross.

In what ways do you nurture your personal sense of sexuality, and/or sexual relationships?

I have no relationship. Never have, never will, either. I guess I just have too many biases about sex and sexuality, and I don’t know how to undo them, either. I don’t know how to nurture my sexuality, if anything I just want to leave it to waste. I don’t care about it. I don’t know how I’m supposed to care about it.

I guess… I draw. I draw what I love. I draw to exemplify the female gaze (and no one seems to understand that, either: to other people, I just “draw musicians” when I don’t. I do plenty of other things). I write. …I live on a mountain top, 20 minutes away from a trump bastion. I have no options.

I like jewel tones. I like odd colors like bright pink and green. I like black and white. I like stuff that’s form-fitting and also low-slung jeans: I do not like anything high-waisted unless it’s worn with crop tops, otherwise I hate it. I don’t get why everyone clutches at themselves at the mere mention of anything low-rise. I like denim and leather and silk and velvet and corduroy. I like stuff that’s low cut—leftover from being heavy and struggling with weight most of my life as I’ve tried to wear T-shirts and the collar always feels like it’s choking me. I like camisoles. I like pajamas. I like underwear: as much as I cringe at the thought of wearing lingerie, I do like just wearing a bra, and I do have a teddy in my closet. I like to wear jeans: I have never felt good in a dress before, aside from the flannel Patagonia ones I used to wear when I was little. I dunno, I find most dresses a bitch to walk around in and sit in, and I hate how skirts always wants to blow up (I’ve lived in windy areas my whole life): those flannel ones were short enough I could play around in them without having to put on pants, but they were warm and soft.

After a shower, I let my hair hang down for a few hours before I brush it: if I haven’t showered in a few days, I comb my bangs up into this pompadour upon my head so I have this Dennis Miller thing going until I feel like climbing into the shower for another round. My mom says I look like I came from the beach. Only makeup I have is chapstick and nail polish: when I was little, I’d put on lipstick and eyeshadow and mascara but I look like a cross between a clown and a hooker. “You’d be so much prettier, though!” No, I’m not, trust me.

Is all of this supposed to make me feel sexy? I feel like I’m missing something here.

Nope, sorry, I can’t touch myself and feel an ounce of pleasure. I touch my lips and my breasts, and I’m having a hard time seeing pleasuring myself as an art, too—I don’t know, it’s hard to put my head around it. What’s artful about sticking my finger up my clit to stimulate myself even though I know I won’t enjoy it?

My body? What about it? It was very skinny, it got very overweight, and now it’s losing weight. Any questions?

Why should I play dress up when I don’t get any attention? Dress for myself… I watch project runway and I really don’t see eye to eye with fashion, what’s considered “high fashion”: I don’t know if I just have piss poor taste or if fashion really is bullshit.

Write about your first sexual experiences. Interpret sexual experience any way like, even it’s about you first kiss.

“Even if it’s about your first kiss” I love how this assumes that everyone who does these things have had their first kiss, like yes, everyone gets some no matter how undesirable, unattractive, and fucked up they are.

There was the first time I touched myself. I was very young—I would think all children do this when they’re extremely young. I was in front of a mirror and I opened my legs and looked at myself there. I touched my clit the first time and I remember it really tickled me. I felt my labia and even stuck a finger or two in.

I did it in front of my conservative grandmother and she swatted my hand. 27 years ago or not, I remember it.

Write about your last sexual experience. How was it different from your first sexual experience?

So I’m (attempting, anyway) to make a habit of putting my hand down my shorts to touch myself while I’m just watching tv, much like how I like to pump my dumbbells when I’m being idle. First time I did it was weird. It tickled and I unlocked some odd feelings within me, and I don’t know if it was arousal at all: I felt a lot of anxiety, a lot of nausea, a lot of old often painful memories. I don’t know if I’m going with it all this week, simply because I don’t know if it did anything positive.

But I just did it while I was watching tv, like I didn’t even think about it. Fingertips and fingernails on my clit, that was it—my mom was in the room, too.

What were you taught about sex as you grew up? What did you not know that you needed to know?

Sex ed from middle school onwards, plus I was told that all guys don’t care about me and just want to get in my pants over and over by my drug addict father. I was never told about pleasure or anything good or that kinks are good or the range of sexual orientations or anything genuinely useful. Just your standard “insert penis into vagina, don’t have babies until you’re ready and only do it to have a baby” and that was it. It was always having babies, too, like god forbid you ever want to have sex because it’s fun or what have you.

I was also bombarded by these messages of “don’t be promiscuous or a slut, don’t get a reputation, no one will want you otherwise” and “girls aren’t supposed to want sex because it’s gross and not ladylike.” Level up and always be ladylike or no one will love you. You have to always be ladylike and proper. I also heard bullshit like “if you have sex, you WILL get pregnant, FACT.” (i.e., the whole “men force abortion on women” thing that pro-life feminists claim is science fiction to me)

I was also always told “if you have sex, you’ll contract a disease, guarantee it”. Cue the nausea whenever someone asks me about some sex life that I allegedly have because apparently fucking everyone has a fucking sex life and yet nobody told me. I can’t win.

How has your views of sex changed over time?

My view of it is… cynical, to say in the least. I’m kind of, admittedly, starting to get the whole “reclaim your sexuality” thing, but I just because I’m starting to get it doesn’t mean I’m feeling in my power, though. I have no frickin power (lol, I said “frickin”). And I still hate the phrase “sexual being” for the same reason as before: everyone says it but the meaning is elusive and everyone assumes you should just know what it means. The future is not bright on this level, like i can’t put my head around the idea of someone wanting me.

I found those other questions (the one with the question that asks about vibrancy and I’m scratching my head about it) from some psychologist and those have helped me more than these: those are more specific and I can just look back on the past week, whereas these always made me angry.

The whole concept of “desirability” is completely alien to me, like no one ever told me about this until just recently. No. I’m not desirable and I never have been, either.

Describe a sexual fantasy you have.

Something with merfolk and the beach. It’s a story that’s always crossed my mind but I have never really had the time or energy to write it out.

Turn a sexual experience into a piece of short fiction. Describe the setting. Use dialogue. Write erotic description.

When you’re so inexperienced that even this feels in vain. I honestly envy people who can write things like erotic memoirs.

Write about the best sex partner you have ever been with. Describe a special time together.

She had five fingers, all without polish on the nails, which were a bit short and freshly trimmed. Her skin was smooth, a little dry but smooth.

I hadn’t been touched in some time and yet, while laying in bed one morning, those fingers wandered down to my belly button for a gentle caress. When I rolled over onto my back, she worked her way down to inside my underwear for a touch. She ever so gentle scratched me on the hood and it felt interesting. Neither good nor bad, but interesting. It got me thinking.

(Got really tired of saying I’m a virgin all the time)

What changes if any would you like to make about your sexual self?

All of it. I want to change all of it. This is supposed to be pleasurable, right? Why am I so anxious?

I have no control. I have no sense of a grasp on it. I hardly ever think about it. I’m desperately trying—and failing—to figure out what I want and need. I hate that I have no sex drive once I really, really think about it—and I swore I did. I can’t handle myself. I have NO self-esteem in this area. And I’m so depressed about all of this that I find I’m just so completely overwhelmed by this.

Write a sexual confession to your partner or someone you admire. Be straight forward or as kinky as you would like.

I have a crush on you. That’s all I have to say. I don’t know how you’re going to react to me from here on out, and I also don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I have to be blunt now. I have a crush on you. I have no control whatsoever, but I have a crush on you. It’s stupid, I know.

What would you like to learn about your sexual self?

Really, just… why am I like this? That was a criticism I saw of my cartoons when I first started making them was “why do they look like that?” And I wish I could say more than “they just do.”

I have the worst luck with relationships—I really mean it: I didn’t start getting looks until a couple of years ago, NO ONE looked at me and I never believed it when someone told me about that boy checking me out (there never was any boy). I have never been asked out, only fixed up and spent a weekend with a friend that was jokingly treated as a date.

What is there to learn here? Why I’m so bad at this? I can tell you that without even thinking twice about it: no one ever encouraged me. I grew up with the most backwards views on sexuality and there’s no end in sight even as I’ve grown up.

I’m not a sexual person. I just heard so many bad things and stories about sex and sexuality along the way that I fucking refuse to ever believe that it can even be a source of pleasure. I heard so many times to look away whenever two people kissed or that any romance was met with eye rolls (but you know, feel free to kiss out in public: cue the confusion). What does it mean to even be desirable, like what the fuck is that?

I have such specific tastes, like i can’t read anything erotic without wondering how it fits with what I like, and it never does.

I guess… my values? But I did that before—they’re love, curiosity, well-being, quality, autonomy, and fun—but I don’t feel good about it, though.

Really, the best way to look at my sexuality is to look at my art, because I draw what I love and what I find interesting. And yet no one seems to understand this. I remember when my dad pulled me aside and told me I should stop “because all I do is draw musicians.” No, I draw people I find attractive and interesting: some of them just so happen to play music.

What part of your sexuality seems the most mysterious to you?

Not necessarily to me specifically, but what’s this whole thing that sex is supposed to be holistic and sacred? The way it gets shoved into our faces on a regular basis while being treated as just the worst thing ever, it obviously isn’t.

I’m so lost on values. I mean, it’s bad enough that when I think about what I value on a non-sexual level, I can’t even answer that: throw sex into the mix and I feel like I’m walking through a fog.

I’m so lost on labels and who I’m attracted to, too. No, I’m sorry, I can’t take my time, this is driving me nuts.

When you hesitate to write something, what reminder can you give yourself to be as completely honest as you can, both factually and emotionally?

“I’m the only one here.”

What, if anything, about sex distresses you?

I worry about getting pregnant, and I’ve always known that this is why I’m so bored with regular old penetrative sex, and why I feel genuinely repulsed by the affluence of it in fanfic: it’s the weirdest thing to me, it’s like everyone has baby fever, whereas I don’t want children. Plus, I’m genuinely grossed out by the thought of being filled with cum.

I worry about falling ill, too. Need I say more.

My poor stomach has been through a lot, too: I worry about having to run to the bathroom.

The fact that i’ll never have it, either. I’m a virgin at 30. 30 year olds have had it several times, i’m lucky to have some rando on the street even look at me.

I just don’t like talking about sex, either. People are so comfortable talking about sex and all things sex and I’m usually thinking about a million different other things like it doesn’t even cross my mind.

Are we surprised that I hate this side of life?

What change would you like to make in your sexual behavior?

I don’t know how to be sexy, like I’m genuinely surprised when someone tells me something I did was hot. Worse, I don’t know if they’re saying that just because or if it’s sincere.

Wait. I’m supposed to enjoy myself? What?

What change would you like to make in your sexual attitudes or thoughts?

I don’t know what sex means to me. It’s just a thing that happens and I’m trying to understand the beliefs about it. No one is attracted to me, I get nothing out of it, and I simply don’t “get some”, either, so why should I bother?

The reason why I’ve been holding back so much is because I cringe at myself, at my true thoughts and I worry about being found out. I cringe at what I like, and it always happens after the fact. I cringe because I’ve been taught to cringe. I know nothing I think or feel matters, especially on a sexual level.

What even is sex appeal? Is it just some natural quality that just automatically comes to select people? What is this?

What change would you like to make in your sexual emotions or feelings?

I feel like there’s something wrong with me. There’s something wrong with me… for being attracted to men, like I’m so ashamed of this. I’m attracted to men and I feel bad about it. My sex drive is so fucking low and I’m helpless to change that.

I have emotions all tied up in sexual desire so it’s hard to tell the difference between the two.

What memories came to mind from the previous questions?

Nothing good or happy.

What do you like most about your current partner? Least?

I’m a virgin. 🎵 I’ll be cleaning my gun… 🎵

Make three (or more) sexual wishes. Don't hold back!

I wish I could talk about this freely. I wish I was hot. I wish I was accepted. I wish I belonged. I wish I didn’t have to worry. I wish I couldn’t feel hysterical laughter whenever I say I’m a virgin. I wish I had a sexuality that worked. I wish I could crush normally. I wish I had power and prowess and agency. I wish I had everything that I don’t have and can’t have.

Make a list of your sexual partners and write a few phrases to describe the relationship. What patterns do you see?

After years of research, I finally came to the perfect scientific conclusion: I’m a virgin and I’m lucky to have anyone even look at me. STOP USING THE WORD “PARTNER”! PLEASE!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!

If you have a sexual partner now, write about this relationship. What works for you in this sexual relationship? What would you like to change?

Boy, you know, my hand not only does things to my clit and tits, but it can also become a fist to break the face of whoever implores the regular use of a clinical, completely loveless and soulless word like “partner”.

Describe what your ideal sexual relationship would look like today.

I don’t know. I don’t know what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. I know what an unhealthy relationship looks like, so I guess … healthy is the opposite? I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.

If you have been sexually dissatisfied, what has kept you in the relationship?

Doesn’t apply.

Are you able to ask your partner for what you want sexually? How do you do that?

Nope, and I wouldn’t know how to ask, either. If I have a hard time asking my mom if we could get soup on a grocery trip, what makes anyone think I am going to feel at ease asking if I want to be fingered.

If you have difficulty asking for what you want, what are you telling yourself that makes asking difficult?

“They won’t care. They’re gonna laugh at me and reject me. They’re going to get angry with me. This is stupid and gross and crass and we all know it. Why do I even bother.”

What are your sexual limits with your partner?

First of all, don’t ever call me your “partner”, I fucking hate that word. I hate how normie it is, I hate how everyone uses it including couples who have been together a long time… I want to know when it was normalized because it’s so sterile and cold and influencer-y. Call me that and I’ll leave. “But nonbinary people use it”, see, that, I understand completely, barring it’s implied that someone in the couple isn’t cishet. But I can’t tell just by looking at you. Trust me, I learned the hard way on that. I have so much baggage with “partner” that writing it just leaves a weird taste in my mouth.

Second, NO CREAMPIES. I- no, just… no.

The word “daddy” has been all but ruined for me, too.

What sexual behavior won't you do or would do only under certain conditions? Write about those to clarify your boundaries.

Please don’t overdo pain. I like a little bit, but my body is actually very sensitive and too much pain is too much.

I don’t like it too rough: I’m slow and sensual for the most part, but a little quickness goes a long way if I think about it.

No period sex, please. I don’t know, just… b l o o d on the good sheets or nice upholstery, and my own, no less.

In what way might your relationship with your partner deepen or improve by talking openly about sex?

I change my mind from before, and I can’t see talking about sex doing anything good. “Communication is key!” You know, just because you say it a bunch of times, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily true. I guess it’s just my inexperience talking but when I really look at this, I’m starting to question my answer before. I can’t see a conversation doing any justice, like it really is a make or break situation.

Can you recall your first discovery of sexual fantasy? What was it about?

All I know is I was very young and I didn’t understand what was happening, either.

Write out three of your favorite sexual fantasies. If this is new to you, make one up now.

Okay, fine. I have worked with fantasy before, and I thought I hadn’t a shred of sexual fantasy before. Seasons Grey is pure fantasy, with the whole teacher-student trope at the core. Love Is Not Enough is fantasy, with the strippers at the root. Blood & Chocolate is all about my food fetish and belly kink. All my kinktober one shots are fantasies. Hell, you know what, any fics that come out of me have some kind of a fantasy embedded inside of them: I just wasn’t really aware of it.

How have you used your sexual fantasies up until now?

Haven’t, at least not outside of writing. I hate how this assumes that I can, too.

What began as a fantasy that you later took into action?

The time I told Alex I’m in love with his voice. It was way before I wrote voice kink one shot in eclipse, too. That one in particular was admittedly fun to write.

What sexual fantasies work the best to arouse you?

I was pretty aroused writing Chave do Mar: Alex as a merman with a long shark tail, smooth milky skin, and black curls tousled over his shoulder. Same with Blood & Chocolate, too: Alex being over fed and it shows up on his body. The Black Orchid scenes from now it’s dark were pretty hot, too, when I think back to writing them: Joey surrounded by burlesque strippers.

I don’t think I can use any of them to really get me off.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a friend? What was the reaction?

…it’s pretty across the board.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a lover? What was the reaction?

I don’t know if I could be courageous enough to do that.

How important is it for you to share your sexual fantasies? What are your reasons for sharing or not? Does sharing fantasies break their "spell"?

You know that fanfic meme that talks about writing your dream fanfic filled with all your fantasies and dreams but choosing not to and keeping it locked away in your mind because you want it to yourself? Yeah, I don’t relate to that at all—then again , i don’t relate to fanfic memes, period (“oh, I should be writing but I’m on tumblr hur hur”, get a life, all of you). I write them out because I want to make sense of them for the most part. I’ve never really seen them as all that mystifying: just these weird little scenes that roll around inside me. I literally don’t care, they’re stupid and pointless and painfully unsexy.

What, if anything, do you find distressing about your sexual thoughts or fantasies? Write about that to clarify it for yourself.

On their own, I don’t think they’re special or gossip-worthy or revolutionary or life-changing. They just are what they are.

But just the fact they exist distresses me. Why do I feel this way? Why am I doing this? This isn’t normal. Everyone is judging me and mocking me.

If you could say three things to the world about the nature of your personal sexuality and really be heard, understood, and accepted, what would you say?

I’ve got nothing. I don’t think I would really be heard, understood, and accepted no matter what I said. Everyone forgets my name eventually.

What were the main messages (directly or indirectly) that you learned about sex? Which messages did you keep or reject?

(Yeah, I replaced the next two with different ones from another place because I genuinely don’t remember when I first learned the feelings of arousal, nor do I give a shit about a stupid poem that I can’t emulate from anyway because I never experienced “great sexuality or eroticism” in my life)

I was basically taught that sex is dirty and for men’s desire only: women are not supposed to desire it, plus all men are perverts and rapists—anyone who says otherwise is lying. I was also taught that men just want to objectify you and use you for their pleasure. I was also taught that you have to be a certain height and body weight or you’re unattractive and therefore disposable. I never heard “beautiful” thrown my way from my peers: it was always from my parents; I heard “ugly” from my peers more than anything. I didn’t learn jack shit about the lgbtq+ community until I was like 19. I was taught strict gender roles. I was taught that my personal boundaries are meaningless and I’m free real estate.

I don’t think sex is dirty, but I don’t know how I feel about it being “sacred” or “holistic”. If I’m not supposed to desire it, what the hell am I doing? Oh, yeah, like women can’t objectify men when I see it in droves. BMI is eugenics. Gender roles are bullshit. Bonus: not everyone is meant to have children, and not everyone is meant for a relationship.

Which of the five senses is most sexual to you?

Sense of touch. The feeling of smooth skin, of a warm curvy body, of soft hair, of bristly hair… it gets very sexual when you think about it.

Describe your first sexual encounter. How old were you? Was it consensual? If not, what resources have you used to help heal from that encounter? If it was consensual, what did that experience mean to you at the time?

I was 18 and it was the day that Dan Wheldon was killed. I had just gotten home and a text from my dad about it. I get online to find a boy who used to sit behind me in geometry class completely beside himself because Dan was his hero. I remember it was Sunday evening, around dinner time: I told him I had to get something to eat because I was hungry and I would be right back. I came back and we talked for hours. Evening became night, and then I blurted out something that made him laugh, and then he made me laugh. One thing leads to another and I say something kind of sexual and it went from there. We chatted and texted back and forth for a few weeks after that until I got slammed with midterms.

As for meaning, I’m not sure. I don’t know how to feel about it, either. I don’t even know if it counts as an encounter, either, but it’s all I got.

Who was your first romantic, sexual partner? What about him or her appealed most to you? What did you hope would happen with that relationship?

Aside from the above, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never had a girlfriend. 30 years old and I have never even been kissed. I got sick and tired of hearing “oh, you’ll find love some day” when I was 17, and now I know in my heart it won’t ever happen. I’ll never forget this one time when my dad was talking about one of my old friends and his girlfriend and how they “look so cute together” and I pointed out how it made me very uncomfortable and he gave me that “you’ll find love some day” without even a second thought.

It’s so exploitative, a little condescending, too, like it tells me everyone has bought into the whole “there’s someone for everyone” horse shit when I learned a long time ago that it’s horse shit. And it’s unfair, like you don’t know how my life will turn out. I don’t even know how my life is going to turn out. I’m just stating a fact, I didn’t ask for you to be fortune teller.

Do you believe that sex and emotional intimacy are linked, or is it possible to have a sexual relationship without emotional attachment? What experiences influence your answer?

The two can exist without each other. Casual sex is a thing, plus you can be emotionally attached but not want it.

Just… my own observations about this. I thought I was asexual and, even though I’m not, I did learn this along the way.

If you could have the perfect sex life right now, what would that look like?

The idea of me having a sex life, period, is so beyond me, like I don’t know what it’s even supposed to be. No, I don’t deserve sex or romance. Those are reserved for people who are well-adjusted.

How do you define “awesome” sex (i.e. what makes sex better than good)?

Makes me think of “awesome sauce”, which completely sucks the eroticism out of this. What even quantifies as “good sex” anyways?

How do you feel about PDA? (You can take this as far as “kinks in public,” too.)

Can’t stand it. Can’t stand seeing it, can’t stand the thought of it happening to me; some things are just better left in private. As for kinks in public, though? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.

What do you think about when you masturbate?

I do it when I’m watching tv so I’m not really thinking about anything.

What are your sure-fire turn-ons (and/or turn-offs)?

Turn-ons: touches, really all over my body. I like soft touch. I like being held. I like fantasy. I like intelligence. I like sweetness. I’m all about feeling and being close. I love Alex’s chest hair. I love Eric in knit sweaters with white buttons. I like boys in crop tops and leather that shows off their skin. I like velvet. I like silk. I like denim and corduroy.

What are your thoughts about porn?

One complaint I do have with it is the unrealistic expectations. No guy is like that. No girl is like that. I have no opinion at this point, actually.

What are your thoughts on foreplay? Favorite types? Best experiences? Wishes?

It’s still underrated. A few kisses or hickeys on a sensitive spot like on the neck or the belly, or fingers on the labia and lips on the thighs can take you a long way, and I can say that just from my own writing.

What parts of your lover’s body are you most drawn to? (If you don’t currently have a lover, feel free to consider past or future lovers.)

“Lover” is another pathetically overused word. My eyes have always wandered to the middle of the body. I don’t care if it’s slim and delicate or round and thick, either, I want to feel and hold, especially there.

If you were to “recreate” the early days of your favorite sexy relationship, what would they look like? Would you change anything?

It’s weird to think that I can actually answer this: I don’t think I would change anything. Maybe I could have been a little more upfront with him about how I feel about him earlier on because I just think about that one night in March-ish 2021, but there was a point to that, though. I wanted to ease into it, and there had to be some sort of opportunity to find with him because I see people hitting on him all the time, and I always think I’m being inappropriate with him, oh my god 🫣.

He feels so elusive now, and I have no doubt that fucking… I don’t even know what to call her, but she has a lot to do with it. I’ve seen how he is outside of her, though: he’s Mr. Social. When she enters the picture, he’s suddenly Mr. Standoffish Homebody, like someone flipped a switch, it’s unsettling, tbh.

What do you want more of in your sex life?

I don’t know. I’m boring.

Would you ever visit a sex therapist? What would be the reason and what do you think their advice would be for you?

Sign me up.

Why do I have a sexuality in the first place.

They’re probably going to give me some of the same old shit I see when I ask Google, so no, I take that back, I want my money back.

Is there anything about sex that embarrasses you, causes shame or fear, or makes you nervous? Or…what’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you during sex?

My fear of pregnancy and disease plus I worry about shitting myself.

Just the act itself. I literally can’t imagine anyone being that crazy about me, like I am not beautiful, I am not sexy… and I hate the expectation that comes with those words, like “you’re a woman! Be beautiful and sexy 24/7!” Fuck off. I could go away right now and no one would care or wonder what it would have been like to make love to me or toss a dick in me.

Talking about it makes me unbelievably nervous, too, like there’s a reason why I apologize for indulging in kink. I know it’s gross.

What do you tend to fantasize or dream about when it comes to sex? What kinds of porn or kink are you drawn to?

Last night, I ventured through the voice kink, belly kink, leather, latex, and lingerie tags. Don’t really know what to make of that, though.

If you were to create a sexy playlist intended for a hot date at home, what would be on it?

I have never made a sexy playlist in my life so I wouldn’t know where to start. This is another thing I have to look up because I don’t know.

What are your love languages and how do they apply to your sexual needs? What about your lover?

I’m all about touch and spending time. I am touch-starved and I have all the time in the world.

No idea how it applies to my voice kink but do I have to say how it applies to my textile kink, my belly kink, my hair kink, my water kink, my wax kink, or anything? “What about your lover”, piss right off.

How do you feel about being naked?

No opinion. It just … is what it is. I don’t fixate on flaws (I never could, either, even with my troubled relationship with myself), nor do I see it as a beautiful thing: it just it what it is. I take care of myself but that’s about it. What do you do with it. Why is this controversial. Now, when I think about being naked with someone else, look the other way.

What’s your favorite way to be seduced?

You put your guitar on your lap, you brush your hair really nice, you have this little twinkle in your eye like you’re up to no good or you’re secretly going commando out of camera, you have a glass of wine in hand, and you talk in a very soft, husky voice when I ask you about your underwear. I think.

Do you have any trust issues surrounding sex or your sexual relationship(s)?

I have nothing but trust issues when it comes to sex. It’s honestly horrifying.

What do you look like, and sound like, when sex feels good for you?

Whenever I write something erotic, every so often I have to stop myself and close my eyes because I feel things moving. I get really quiet (everyone talks about screaming during sex: I’m the exact opposite, I get really quiet) and my hands start itching for the feeling. I bite my lip a lot, too—sometimes I do that without even thinking, like it just happens. It’s a long slow burn with me.

This is literally all I’ve got, sorry.

What is the most sexually daring thing you’ve ever done?

Flirted with Alex on stories. I’ve always fucking sucked at flirting (I once went for five years without flirting with anyone because I suck so hard at it), let alone with a guy like him. I love calling him “baby” and by his name, especially.

Flirted with Eric on stories (I called him “big guy”) and got him to take a selfie from the toilet. Wish I was making that up.

I asked “are we going to see a Jeff Becerra OnlyFans any time soon?” and mf literally replied with “only if the price is right” and the eggplant emoji, even though I was just joking around.

Any time I post risqué art on instagram because they’re assholes with that sort of thing. No clue how threads’ll react to it.

When now it’s dark was being written and I posted those ink drawings on instagram (completely oblivious to the fact Joey was watching me).

There was also one time in school one of my friends had his pants hanging down a bit and I tried to pants him and he caught me. I did get to pinch his butt when no one was looking, though.

In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed?

I don’t know what this means.

Have you ever had sex in a public place?

WHYYYYYYYYYYY would I do this?

When and how did you lose your virginity, and how did you feel about it? How do you feel about it now?

I’ll probably die a virgin.

Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time, watched others have sex, been watched? If not, would you?

I think I’m polyamorous so I’d definitely try it. As for voyeurism… maybe I’d like to be watched? Don’t know about watching others, though.

How often do you masturbate and what works best for you?

Well, I started doing it again, during idle moments when I’m not doing anything. I’m just using my fingers right now: let’s see how it goes. I can’t say I’ll have any desire to use a toy. Maybe I’m not doing it right because I have done it but I barely get off at all, and I’m more disgusted with myself than anything.

Maybe I’m just not trying enough, but I look at some on lingerie sites like Spencer’s or wherever, and I shake my head. “Find one that’s best for you”, they tell me. Yeah, but nothing here is jumping out at me. I’m going to look ridiculous in lingerie, too.

What are you most grateful or thankful for in your sex life?

Nothing. Literally nothing. Grateful for the pain? The headaches? The heavy feeling in my chest?

What is your favorite sexual position, and why?

Cowgirl, I guess?

Have you ever had an “inappropriate” crush? What was it about that person that drew you in, and what made it “not okay”?

I have one right now, on Alex. He’s kind of everything I love in another person: he’s intelligent, he’s musical, he’s passionate about what he does, he’s very sensual with a very sensual voice, he’s sweet, he’s an animal lover, he’s got an interesting appearance…

Problem is he’s older and more established and living clear across the country from me… and he’s already got a relationship. The thing that bothers me most about it is I really, truly want to like her, I really do, I’m not joking about this, but I can’t bring myself to do it. She irritates the ever-loving fuck out of me. It’s like… do you ever see someone and for whatever reason, they rub you the wrong way and you nope right out of it (plus, you’re afraid to fuck around and find out)? That’s me with her. I don’t get what he sees in her, like I always want to puke whenever he tags her in a post.

I can’t explain it but there’s something weirdly mean-spirited about her, mean-spirited and kind of nefarious. I think it’s the way she’s like “I’m a shy person” and yet all the shy people I’ve known didn’t even bother with social media or the internet altogether, like they didn’t have an Instagram just to spite itself. This, and the fact she refuses to join in photographs with him… something about it just doesn’t hit right.

The whole thing, my crush on him and my dislike of her, it’s stupid. I feel really stupid.

Have you (or would you) ever tried role play? What roles are you drawn to?

I guess the student-teacher thing or the human-vampire thing or the human-merperson thing. I don’t care if it happens or not.

Are you more dominant or submissive (or a bit of both)?

Both. Yes, even with as much as I hate the stereotypical female role and find it restrictive, there’s a sub in me.

How do you feel about your own body?

I don’t like it. What’s worse is I don’t know what I dislike about it, it’s just this overall, generalized feeling. Parents called me beautiful but if my piss-poor track record with my peers and crushes and this whole thing here is anything to go by… it should be clear that I’m not good-looking. I only started actually getting hit on very recently, and looking at my appearance when I was a teenager, I did not look good at all. It makes sense that no one ever made a pass on me.

I’ve posted pictures of myself online before and I have literally gotten blocked for it. They weren’t anything risqué, either, they were just… my face. Or me in a t-shirt or a camisole because I like wearing those. But I see people who are *okay looking* (like I could see them on the street willy-nilly but they won’t make me turn my head) get hundreds of likes or notes. I see people—I’m gonna catch hell for this; I have nothing to lose—who are ugly, like uglier than me, get the likes and called “beauty queens” and shit. I hope people realize just how hurtful it is, and I hope that people realize that telling me to “just be confident” in the face of that is genuinely insulting.

How sorry do you have to feel for a person having sex with you?

Sorrier than sorry. Why bother. I can’t give you pleasure or anything, anything other than tears. Just go to sleep.

Could someone know you sexually, properly know you, and still like you?

A certain someone knows about me sexually and I have no clue if he likes me, and it’s not the boy I cybered with, either.

#i need therapy #sexuality #journaling #text #personal

3 notes · View notes

myhalloweendreams · 2 years

Text

I’m feeling bad about myself so I guess I’ll get in a pity time rant... sorry about that and please ignore this post

This is just me letting out some of my sorrows... I guess missing my therapy this week bc I was too focused on work didn’t help at all so I’ve to let it out

Well I’m feeling like shit bc I cant afford to live... Yay!! (life is hell too, but mostly bc of money and tiredness)

Get in the line, right?

So many people are going through this, I should stop mopping about it... I truly feel bad about being like that

like yeah u’re fucked, but if this is all u think about, will it solve anything? It ain’t, right? and I know that, i do, but still I’m always so terrified and concerned about everything and what the fuck i’m gonna do

I feel like a freaking burden and an incompetent adult... like this job doesnt pay me enough for surviving, but it isnt even a minimum age job and I really cant get anything better, I dont have enough qualifications or experience for getting anything else even in the same payment range

I work a lot, I don’t get paid enough and to help all that I have no day for receiving my payment ... it’s already the 11th day of the month and I didn’t get my payment yet, last month I receiveid my payment at the 27th of the month so I’m always stressed about if i’ll have money to pay my bills before their due date

I’m also always stressed that I’ll lose this job too... I’ve no way to surviving without it...Yay!!! How fun!!!

I eat awlfully bad and basically every single person in my life is concerned about it, but 1 i dont know how to cook and yes i know that i could look it up recipes in the internet and try until I get it right, but that get me to my second problem:

I dont have enough energy to try... I literally live all my days without energy

stress + an anxiety disorder + depression + bad eating habits + not being in the sun ever + no exercising + terrible sleeping quality = me feeling like shit and always tired as fuck every single day of my life

what gets me to not having energy even for the most simple tasks, including cooking, showering, brushing my teeth, etc.... I cant be trust even to eat, sometimes i dont even have enough energy to freaking eat

I’m always concerned about not having enough money to pay my bills + my meds + food + the least of my cat’s necessities + the house things i have to buy interchangeably with my roommates... and i dread having to ask for help of my family bc it feels like a certification of failure

I’m so out of it that I’ve medical exams requests pilling up, bc even tho my aunt decided pay a health insurance for me (god bless her soul), bc she was concerned about me, doing the exams mean that I’ve to pay for go there and comeback + whatever meds or wtv they ask for wtv they find wrong.... so i dont go + I’ve little to no energy to deal with it

I mean i have a pain in my jaw, that I’m pretty sure that i displaced, for more than 4 weeks and i didnt go to look it up bc i know i cant afford wtv they ask me to do about it... I literally am in pay all day, every day at least an mild way, in a good day and eating and opening my mouth hurts like hell, but here i am just pretending nothing is happening, bc u know, poor people cant afford getting hurt

Dude, I was even like “I’ll go to a nutritionist to learn how to drink less milk so I can save money” but then i learned that i cant just get an appointment with one, i’ve to go to another doctor and this doctor has to give me an referral to go to them... I dont have enough energy for that... common help a bitch out

How much I’m trying to save up?

I avoid to take meds so I dont finish them and have to buy more... headaches, flu, stomachache, diarrhea or wtv only gets to be treated with meds if it doesnt go away by itself

I count my meds so i can make my psychiatrist appointment when it’s about to end so I dont have to buy different meds and waste the ones I already bought bc he changed them for others... are the actual ones working perfectly? probably not, but at least I wont lose money with that

(they change my meds a lot bc everything seems to stop making effects on me or at very least not making enough effects T-T )

My family wants me to buy hair supplements bc I’m getting more and more bald... i dont have money for that sweeties lol

like genetically i’m supposed to have not that much hair, but u add the stress, the anxiety and the depression to it and u get me losing more and more hair, to the point i have some bald spots and need to get my hair in some specifc ways so they dont show... Yay me³ !!

(for my family: please sweeties stop caring, i cant afford shit)

Ohh I forgot to metion, my job (home office) that doesnt pay me enough to survive normally now wants me to go to the office for meetings so lets add more travel fees to the already overpast budget

since i’ve all that going on my skin is terrible bc u know it doesnt really answers well to all that... so I’ve bad hair, bad skin, not enough money to surviving (what is leisure? I’ve no idea of what it’s to do anything for fun... i cant afford such a thing lol), enough stress, anxiety e depression to make be in the very edge + u know all the health stuff not being look up and no energy

i dont know whats peace of mind for so long now that I’m losing it, but at least I’m doing it with a smile in my face so at least my family doesnt feel burdened lol

so I guess i’m doing peachy and everything is okay lol

Well at very least I’ve my Agatha... she’s the bright side of my life

the little meow meow keeps me haging there, my baby girl is an angel and i love her with all my heart

*Me having a hard time at working*: look at my cat and go “well, I’ve to pay ur food sweetie potato... so let’s keep going”

*me not wanting to get out of bed*: remembers I’ve to feed my baby and attend to it and get up graciously as a freaking zoombie but i do

and so on

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

Well, well, well... now that I started to talk about Agatha, let it out and I cried a river I’m felling a little better

So since I’m using this as a adjunct therapy or somenthing I guess I feel like doing smt every therapist told me to do but I didnt do bc I felt like it would just make me feel worse, bc I cant have it... making a list of things I would want

I guess the first thing would be: be capable to pay all my things without problems. U know? not having to get worried about money

the second would be: be able to upgrade the things I use in my daily life

the third: be able to give Agatha all the things I think she would like... treats, the best cat food, environmental enrichment and anything and everything she shows interested in

fourth would be: probably buy the things I like or want just bc I want to , without worrying about expending money... what totally includes buying things for all the people that I care about to my hearts content and giving them (or sending them) all the things that make me think of them and giving money to all the people that i cross asking for it or working in the crossroad

- maybe taking care of the health things that have to be taken care of (it should be somewhere in the list i guess) lol

- do things for fun

- learn things for pleasure

- buy things for and do diy things ( i love to create and to do new things)

- learn new languages... like a new one every time I finish the last one

- relearn Interior Design stuff and learn Graphic Design (i love do things in the computer)

- have a job that I like... I mean I really like (and I know that even like what u do u dont like it every day but still can u imagine working in something that makes u want to get up in the morning happily)

- retrieve my reading ability and read a lot (buy all the books that catch my eyes *---* )

- getting to know more awesome people

- learning physical things that I find cool (like i dont have any affinity with anything physical, I have no strenght either, I also have labyrinthitis what makes me give every time I try)

- buy my mom and my mom a house and give them enough money that they dont need to be worried about bills anymore (well this is probably higher in the list but since is a bigger thing I only thought about it now lol )

- taking care of my apparence I guess... I mean I would love to be able to dress in a way that i like and really be able to try things and find my own style but it would be cool to try to take care of own self too i guess... I’m not much but I guess with money and effort even I could get better, I mean my best can not be the best but still my best

- living in nice place that i’m not scared of being thrown out at any minute (renting a room in a strangers place is very worrisome)

- OMG!! I just thought it: Go visit my international friends !!!! *----* (this one is hella important)

- do something praise worth

- have a little waterproof portable speaker so i can hear music while showering

edit: somewhere in the begginig would be not being tired and not feeling miserable all the time, getting over my social phobia, stop having panic attacks, not driving myself insane with anxiety and intrusive thoughts, having my attention spam back, get over my body dysmorphia ... I went all for material things and forgot some pretty important stuff

This list didnt get not even close of the right order lol

it just went in the i just thought about it order lol

I guess I cant think of anything anymore... I’m already tired of dreaming of things I cant have lol

but it was kind of fun think about nice things

#ranting #bullshiting #ignore this #i had forgotten the read more thing #i should be using it in every personal post #lol #nothing to see here folks #how do u spend ur weekend night?#crying my ass off #while taking stuff out of my chest for no one to see #i guess letting all out is hard but at least it feels a little less burdening #not wanting to let anyone see this side of u is hard bc u dont have anyone to talk about it #but i prefer to not burden anyone just bc i feel bad #but rn thinking about it I guess I would like the people i love to tell me if they are having a hard time #even if i couldnt help i would like to at least listening to them #what a hipocrite #maybe i should talk with someone #maybe #maybe someone would not feel the same #idk #well i just took way too much time writing all this #now ill just let it go #bc im really tired and emotionally exhausted

2 notes · View notes

tsukkishinata · 1 year

Text

drabble: secret admirer

ship: tsukihina

type: drabble

complete?: i guess?

word count: ~800

notes: I drew it out first (comic here) but there’s a bit more and an the alt ending/route

Hinata wants to confess to Tsukishima but he doesn’t want it to be reciprocated (?) so he decides to “anonymously” confess as a girl admirer

He like tsukki for a while and he thinks he has no chance and it’s more just a “let’s get it over with so I can move on” confession

He leaves a letter in tsukkis locker to ask him to meet behind the school

He isn’t even sure if Tsuki would go. Tsuki makes no sign of having even acknowledged or read the letter (having hinted at it during lunch with the other) so Hinata feels like a fool standing there waiting for someone who might not even show up. Well, maybe it’s for the best if he doesn’t…

Except that Tsukishima does show up and Hinata has to go through with it.

Tsukishima brings out the letter. Hinata pitched his voice higher and declared his feelings. He drops his head so his wig covers most of his face.

“I’ve liked you for a very long time Tsukishima-San. I don’t need you to reciprocate but I just wanted to tell you!”

He’s about to turn and leave but Tsukishima stops him.

“I… feel the same.”

…

“Huh?”

Hinata turns to look at him.

Tsukishima is looking at him, hands in his pockets. Hinata sweats nervously. He never actually expected Tsukishima to respond, let alone reciprocate???? What now??? Tsukishima is going to get himself a girlfriend???

“No really!! It’s okay! I understand you’re very busy with class and the volleyball team so it’s fine you don’t have to take my feelings into consideration! I really just wanted to tell you-“

“I said I felt the same way didn’t I?”

Hinata is sweating.

“Though I never expected you to pull this kind of stunt.”

He’s probably been found out but he plays with his wig and tries to play dumb.

“Tsukishima-San I don’t understand…”

“This is a very elaborate scheme for someone like you, I’m assuming you had help..”

Hinata chokes on his own saliva when Tsukishima comes up to him. He flinched when Tsukishima brings a hand over and tugs at a strand of his wig.

(((Do I make tsukki do the shoujo hair kiss??? Do I?????)))

Tsuki brings the strand of wig to his lips. Hinata is bright red.

“Black hair doesn’t suit you at all Hinata.”

Hinata grumbles. “Howd you know it was me?”

Tsuki said he’d seen Hinata nervously writhe with anxious stomachache before he had showed up and he recognized his handwriting.

Hinata tries to hide his face but Tsuki pulls the wig off and runs his hand through his actual hair, pulling him in.

“That looks more right.”

Hinata has his eyes closed when Tsuki leans in. He could feel the others face centimeters away but still no contact. He opened an eye and exploded when he sees Tsukishima just watching his expression with a smug grin.

With a growl, Hinata pulls on his jacket and crushes their mouths together.

They pull away, flushed.

“That was absolutely terrible.”

“Shut up, it’s my first time. And it’s your fault for not doing it earlier.”

As an apology, Tsukishima brings him close again and holds his face before gently leaving a peck on his lips before pulling away.

Hinata jumps into him, arms around his neck and on his tippy toes to reach Tsukishima’s mouth again.

“Does this mean we are going out?”

“Of course.”

(Route two)

Tsuki thinks this is an elaborate prank and laughs at him and walks off. It hurt, it really hurt, because Tsukishima liked Hinata and it’s such irony that he’d get pranked this way.

Hinata is absolutely heartbroken. He is off his game during practice and leaves early. Tsuki realizes that maybe it wasn’t a prank.

He asks to talk to him the next day, during lunch. Hinata tries to play it cool but he doesn’t want to be hurt again. He asks Tsuki to try to forget about the whole incident but Tsuki doesn’t.

Tsukishima asks if he really meant it, his confession.

Hinata nods. He tells him again that he really only wanted to confess to get his feelings out and he never expected it to be reciprocated or even answered. He had hoped that his identity wouldn’t be found out, not wanting to cause a riff in their and the teams relationship.

Tsukishima asks what he’d do if he also said everything he had said was the truth, that he also felt the same.

Hinata looks at him with hope in his eyes. He’s tearing up. He says he’s afraid to be hurt again, don’t play with him like that.

Tsukishima pulls him into him and holds him. Hinata wets his shirt as he whispers his feelings again while caressing his hair.

#mine #ficlet

0 notes

pillow-anime-talk · 3 years

Text

dating them.

synopsis: Some sweet, funny and also crazy moments in your relationship.

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; mild comedy; fluff; PDA; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. reki kyan, langa hasegawa, miya chinen, kaoru sakurayashiki & kojirou nanjou {sk8}

author’s note: so... i’m just in love with this anime...

— REKI

↘ He’s such a precious boy who cheers you up in the blink of an eye; I think he has an extra sense, so he knows when you feel worse than usual or when you are in even the slightest pain (for example, you bumped your elbow or you haven’t eaten breakfast before ‘cause you missed your alarm clock and therefore you have a stomachache).

↘ Reki is a supportive lover; whether you are passionate about singing, learning languages, reading manga, sewing mascots or painting, a seventeen-year-old will always be right next to you to praise what you do or the way you look. He will notice every, even stupid detail about you and mention it immediately when you’re going to hang out. He’s definitely your fan and doesn’t hide it. Additionally, if you introduce him to what you love, he will also get interested in it in a way and then he will come to you to show off what he has done like a sketch of the two of you or an opinion about the anime you recommended him three days ago.

↘ The boy is really devoted to you and loves physical contact; grabbing a hand, kissing on the cheek or forehead, cute texts in the morning it’s something totally normal for the two of you. I also think that Reki could melt if you run your fingers through his soft hair or make small braids for him, decorating his head with a few colored hairpins or hairbands.

↘ If you know how to skateboarding, he will be delighted and your dates will mostly be about riding together or learning new tricks. Plus, it’s another thing Reki loves about you and wow. He’s even bigger fanboy than before!

↘ However, if you have never ridden or even tried to do it, it doesn’t matter. A teen will be happy to be able to offer you some private lessons if you wish. Again, red-haired adores physical contact, so holding your hands/waist while you stand on his beloved skateboard will be a dream come true for him.

↘ He always has ticket for you, so you make a new banner for each race to support him. Hit me, but I’m 120% sure that after race (whether he won or lost it) he takes your pretty banners and hides them in this special box that has its place on his bedroom closet.

↘ Overall, Reki is a boy who fits to the definition of high school, first love.

— LANGA

↘ Your relationship is a bit more peaceful, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a bit of humor or abstraction.

↘ Langa loves your company so, so, so badly; Reki is quite hot-tempered and is literally everywhere, so when the two of you hang out together after school or at the weekend, blue-haired feels that he can breathe and relax every muscle in his body. You’re his comfort person, and your room is a safe place without fear and noise.

↘ He also enjoys physical contact, but much more prefers to show affection in private, for example in your home or in his own bedroom.

↘ His favorite type of PDA is cuddling; he prefers to be a big spoon and hug you from behind, but he has no problem hugging against your chest or warm stomach, especially when he feels down because of school or racing.

↘ I have a strange feeling that Langa is the type of romantic who would make an amazing Spotify playlist for the two of you so you could listen to the songs, cuddling each other in the bed.

↘ If you can skateboard that’s great! For sure you, Langa and Reki will be a good trio that will meet often in the skate park or in ‘S’. I’m also pretty sure he’ll cheer for you, but at the same time he’ll be very cute with it and definitely more calm than his bestie. For example, if you do a trick... you’ll get a quick kiss on the nose or Langa will buy you your favorite drink. He definitely likes to pamper you.

↘ If you don’t know how to skateboard but you really want to start skateboarding to share your lover’s passion... Well, he will definitely give you a short (long) monologue about how dangerous it is, and you need to be careful – because he knows best of all how a fall on butt or face hurts.

↘ He always keeps a tiny set of colored plasters in his jacket or pants pocket to take care of you in the case of an unexpected accident, as Reki used to care for him.

↘ He’s a good teacher, but he will definitely need to calm his emotions, because sometimes instead of showing you how to slide down the railing, he will suggest something more down-to-earth, like going to the cinema to watch the movie you mentioned three days ago.

— MIYA

↘ Ahh, my precious smol baby.

↘ You are Miya’s first partner, so he still thinks that he’s not good enough for you, although you always reassure him with a light peck on the nose that he’s the best thing that has happened to you and that you’re very glad that you can be with him in every good and bad moment.

↘ The teenager is terribly shy about any physical contact outside, so if you aren’t at home, don’t expect a ton of hugs or kisses from him. He much prefers when you two are alone – then he doesn’t feel overwhelmed by the gazes of other people, especially other skaters who like to make fun of him.

↘ I swear I’ll bite and beat them all...

↘ Miya is a delicate soul and he really likes to feel that someone look after him, so in a relationship he definitely prefers when you cares for him. For example; just touch his soft hair, ask about his well-being or when he will have a race and a huge smile will appear on his face.

↘ I think if he feels that you are the only one for him... Maybe he will lend you his favorite hoodie with cat ears and tail? He’ll be overjoyed to see that you feel good in it. You look extremely cute, but he’ll never admit it.

↘ It smells like him, like wet earth and a hint of sweet perfume, and although it’s a strange combination, it feels really beautiful, downright safe and homey.

↘ For the next holiday (your birthday, your anniversary, Valentine’s Day or Christmas), he will give you a sweatshirt that matches to his own. It will be in your favorite color and will also have an animal accessory, not necessarily catish, because if you prefer dogs, rabbits or cows... You know, there are many options.

↘ If you know how to skateboard, he will be really calm and will feel that finally someone will want to spend time with him, training and riding together; not like in childhood when everyone turned away from him. He will definitely be moved when you grab his smooth hand and offer a long ride in the park. He definitely loves praise, so give him praise every now and then when he does a nice trick. He will also compliment you more than once and even give you a kiss on the cheek (of course if nobody is watching!). He’s not good at words, but he tries!

↘ If you don’t know how to skateboard... He may be a bit skeptical, but naturally he’ll agree to a few lessons in front of your or his house. Of course you originally just wanted to be close to him and hold his hand more often than usual, but it turned out to be pretty fun! Now, training is your typical dates.

↘ Miya is a sweet boy and although he may not look like that, he’s really protective, often jealous and always puts you at first place.

— KAORU

↘ This beautiful man, this angel-looking ideal, this ahhhh... Being in a relationship with him is pure pleasure and daily healing for the soul.

↘ He’s a calm, understanding and loving partner. I think he’s a bit old fashioned but that only adds much more charm to his person.

↘ He often calls you his ‘dearest’, ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’, isn’t that cute?

↘ You two don’t go out on dates too often, but I think Kaoru loves to spend time at home, having tea or on the couch while one of you is reading a book and the other is listening to music or just sleeping. He definitely doesn’t look like that, but he loves PDA/cuddling and is the best at it!

↘ He also likes it when you suggest learning calligraphy together. He never forced you to do this, but when he first heard that you would like to meet one of his passions, he was really happy and immediately showed you how to write with ink on the special paper he had in his flat. Obviously, more than once you ask him to write a simple letter or word, because you just love his handwriting and how focused he seems. He’s really hot then, I swear to god!

↘ You love his long hair and are always eager to give him a new, nice hairstyle; normal braid or fishtail braid. Maybe a bun or a ponytail with a few hairpins? He loves everything you do on him. In addition, the gentle head massage you give him each time is the most soothing thing in the world for him.

↘ If you know how to skating... He’s really surprised, but that doesn’t mean he’s unhappy or angry. He wants to see what you can do right away and you will surely feel a sweet kiss on your forehead more than once when the trick will be good or even better than you both thought. He’s a supportive boy, but doesn’t show it as vehemently as Reki, for example; he prefers to smile at you or clap softly.

↘ If you don’t know how to skate yet, but you asked him to teach you how to even stand on it... I imagine Kaoru going pale and trying to distract you from this idea because, as an experienced skater, he’s afraid that you will hurt yourself like any beginner. But your big eyes and ruddy cheeks are his weaknesses, so he’ll trust both you and Carla and help you keep your balance on his beloved, black-violet board. Reward him later with quick kisses or give him his favorites, okay?

↘ To sum up, Kaoru is a good and honest lover. He definitely loves your company and won’t mind spending his free time seriously and frivolously with you.

— KOJIROU

↘ This guy is the definition of the sentence ‘Through the stomach to the heart’. Any objections? No. So let’s gooooo!

↘ Kojirou is a PERFECT second half. Both in character and appearance. If he fall in love with someone seriously, and it will be you, then know that he’ll care for you like about a member of the royal family; breakfasts in bed, an Italian supper, the perfect choice of wine for a chicken or steak are things that have become a sweet daily thing for you at some point.

↘ He loves to show you affection and absolutely has no problem doing it in public, even when he’s working or when you two are in a tight crowd on the train or in the ‘S’ before his race. He will kiss you hard on the lips, grab your skin on your butt or hug your waist. It’s just that everyone needs to know that you belong to him. He’s just as clingy as Reki, and sometimes even worse and bolder.

↘ Of course he has cute side; he likes to lie on the bed or the sofa with you on his chest. He loves being between your thighs and sleep there. He definitely has a weak point in that when you you run your finger on his tattoo or cook dinner with him, throwing ingredients at him and laughing out loud.

↘ Another romantic who uses thousands of pet names (like babey, cutie, doll, pumpkin, kitten). Plus, he loves to dance with you in the kitchen and steal a few kisses here and there. Also, if you aren’t looking, he likes to surprise you with a big, bear hug.

↘ I think he’s a bit impatient, so he doesn’t like to sit at home and prefers dates in crazy places (such as an amusement park, swimming pool, karaoke bar) – it’s his favorite way of spending your time together. As a gentleman, he always pays for you, unless you go faster and bring your ATM card to the card reader as first. But don’t be surprised when Kojirou will just buy you cotton candy or popcorn shortly afterwards.

↘ If you know how to skateboard, he’s as excited as a kid and will definitely offer you a date at the skate park. Naturally, he wants to show off to others what a super cool partner he has, but he also wants others to know that you’re here together to kick everyone’s asses with your abilities. You’re definitely a powerful couple and you have the matching necklaces!

↘ But if you don’t know how to skating then... well, well, well. Just be prepared that one day (without even asking for it) you’ll stand on his beloved board and he will grab your hips, smiling silly. He enjoy skin ship so this guy feels utopian when he can be near you. He definitely won’t spare you compliments, long pecks, and smack your butt when you do something great, so you have to get used to it... and it’s going to be a long training session, so good luck, my friend.

↘ He’s a funny guy, but he’ll never cross your limits, so don’t worry about that. However, he will always find a topic for conversation or a joke to relax the atmosphere or cheer you up. You will never be bored with him.

2K notes · View notes

bokutobaes · 3 years

Text

inarizaki boys when you have a bad day

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆-with: atsumu, suna, kita

☆-!warnings!: swearing, parental issues, parents fighting, (there’s nothing physically violent), illness like the flu

☆-a/n: yall these are longgg LOL sorry

☆- author: lu <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆ atsumu:

-his baby had a bad day :((

-just kidding he didn’t notice at first I’m so sorry nzjsjjsj

-your lockers are nearby so he’s usually waiting for you there first thing in the morning

-you woke up today with a headache and you were just really tired from studying last night :/

-you wanted to suck it up because it was your own fault for leaving the studying until the night before the test you had

-anyways, you were walking up to your locker lowkey trying to avoid eye contact with him

-“hi tsumu :)” u fricken liar with that fake smile

-“morning babe!” atsumu pulled u in for a back hug “i have to get to class kinda early for a test review so i’ll see you at lunch”

-and with that he was pecking your cheek and leaving

-“okay.. kind of good” you thought.. you didn’t wanna worry him or anything so you headed to you first class, math

-hell literally broke loose.. you forgot your pencil case and had to ask like 4 people until you got one which was embarrassing

-AND THEN the teacher called on you for an answer that you didn’t know like the universe

was against you or something

-“uhh... ummm i don’t know..” headass😩

-the class after that was slightly less dehumanizing but it was also japanese class.. the class you had a test in that you just barely studied for

-you did the test and lost braincells, blood sweat and tears LOL

-“okay class these will be graded by lunchtime so please come by to collect your scores before your next class”

-ogey :/ anyways u went to ur next class and before u knew it, it was lunch time.

-a text from atsumu made your phone vibrate while on your way to get your test scores

-“hey babe im actually gonna eat lunch with samu we’re practicing a bit at lunch”

-oh :) ok :) that’s fine :) not like u :) desperately:) need a hug :) right now :)

-“oh okay babe” you text back

-whatever u don’t need him independent queen

-that’s your mindset.. until you get those test scores

-it’s a literal fail .. did not pass the test.. ok..

-“y/n san, these test scores were not your usual best. I’m slightly disappointed, if there’s anything going on please let me know”

-“thank you sensei. i’ll do better next time.

-at this point you were just tying not to cry so you took your test and shouldered your bag and walked to a bench outside for some fresh air.

-right.. you didn’t bring lunch today

-so now you were hungry, tired, defeated, disappointed and lonely :,(

-the last class of your day went by quickly probably because you were zoned out the whole time

-the end of the day came and you were at your locker when your guardian texted you

-“Y/n, you had that test today right? I’m expecting to see the grade when your back home. Didn’t have time to make food tonight so find something to eat on your way home.”

-oh that test ? lol hahaha the one that you failed?! yeah that one haha lol lollll

-so with that, you started your walk home

-“y/n!!”

-fuck. atsumu.

-if you saw him now you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold in your tears and you really didn’t want to cry

-so your solution? pretend you didn’t hear him and walk faster lmfaokdhdh

-but atsumu, being.. well atsumu, decided to just full speed sprint towards you to put his shoulder around you

-“i literally know you heard me. i missed you today sorry about lun- why are you crying ?!!?”

-“bad day” you choked out before a shuddering gasp wracked your chest

-atsumu didn’t say anything he just wrapped you in a tight hug, petting you hair while you cried into his chest

-“its okay babe.. “ :(

-“you wanna come over? we can get food and cuddle”

-you nodded your head taking a shaky breath

-his hand reached out and wiped your tears, brushed your hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead like it was natural to him.

-and so you walked together hand in hand to atsumu’s house where you ate samu’s leftover onigiri and vented to atsumu about the day while you cuddled

-he also gave you a hoodie :,)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆ suna:

-“living is a chore :|” you thought as the alarm rang through your room ruining your peaceful sleep

-it was raining outside and your mind went back to last night, the screaming match your parents had

-normally you’d be used to it but it felt like they were starting to take the anger they had for each other out on you now

-you tried not to but you started thinking about all the things your mom had yelled to you through the closed door of your bedroom

-“your just like your father. you’re selfish, lazy and all you do is run around with that little boyfriend of yours! what about your family?! you think your better then us? why don’t you move out then since your so good at being independent?!”

-everything she said was always completely blown out of proportion, she lied all the time. it’s exhausting for you

-you started getting ready for school, you wanted to see suna and your friends and laugh and just forget last night even happened

-when you got to school suna was there at your locker scrolling lazily through his phone

-you smiled, genuinely as he looked up and greeted you with a smirk

-“nice hair.”

-“wha-“ you started and then smacked his arm when you realized that your baby hairs were out of sorts “shutup” you scowled

-“good morning” suna hugged you

-“good morning”

-now you were off to class, it always went by too fast, you thought. school was always done in the blink of an eye

-“what’re you doing at lunch?” your friend tapped your shoulder and whispered to you

-“mmm nothing probably why?”

-“let’s eat on the roof today! yui told me there’s gonna be a rainbow cuz it stopped raining.”

-“okay” you smiled

-now at lunch with your friends you ate the bento you had packed before. the rainbow was there and it was beautiful

-you were having fun just laughing with your friends and texting suna while he sent terrible photos of atsumu. things were good, you had forgotten about your mom

-until the end of the day came and you had to go back home

-as usual suna was at his locker waiting so that you could walk home together

-after crossing the street you and suna were at a bike path, trees surrounding the fences

-it was a comfortable silence until...

-“what’s wrong?”

-suna asking took you by surprise, you didn’t think you were acting any different. were you?

-“what are you talking about”

-“you look sad, you did this morning too but then you were fine the rest of the day so I didn’t say anything. but, you look sad again now”

-“oh..”

-so suna just saw right through you

-“ um.. i’m okay.. it’s just ..” you laughed dryly “i don’t really want to go home”

-“did something happen?”

-“yeah.. my parents were fighting, it turned into this whole thing.” you felt a lump in your throat start to form “i don’t really wanna talk about it”

-“okay. you should just come over then, right?”

-“can i?”

-“you literally don’t even have to ask me anymore y/n” suna grabbed your hand and led the way

-when you got there suna hopped on his couch and started putting on something from netflix

-“my parents aren’t home, my sister has a dance thing today” he grabbed a blanket and you sat down, putting your head in his lap

-suna put on a comedy show, of course he would

-he played with your hair while you watched and after an episode or two, he asked

-“do you want to talk about it now?”

-and so you did, you told him what happened last night and what your mom said. your plan was to not cry but that failed miserably

-suna listened intently, he told you the truth, he said that what she said wasn’t true, he told you you could sleepover whenever you needed to.

-kissed you and wrapped you back in the blanket

-“i love you, you know that right? always.”

-he always knew what to say and you loved him for that

-“i love you too, suna”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆ kita:

-kita knew, first thing he noticed when he saw you that you weren’t okay

-you woke up with a terrible headache, aching body and stomachache

-so this is it? this is hell? ok.

-but the test.. you had a test today. fortunately you had actually studied for weeks because you knew it was important

-mentally? you were ready for that test. physically? you had the spanish influenza

-so you weighed the options and decided you would go to school, take the test and then come back home after.

-the problem with that was that kita would in fact lecture you on all the reasons you should not have come to school

-he was right of course, but you still decided that you would need to avoid him for today

-spoiler alert it did not work

-your test was your third class of the day so you only had to get through 2 classes and you’d leave at lunch perfectly avoiding kita

-this was what you thought while you were at your locker until you closed it and walked directly into kitas chest

-“wow”

-“good morning y/n-chan”

-“morning kita! i have to go or I’ll be late!”

-you ran😭 and you almost got away too but kita grabbed your arm and pulled you to one side of the hallway

-he felt your forehead and both cheeks

-“you have a fever y/n”

-“no I don’t I’m just hot from walking to school”

-he said 😐

-you signed and rested your head on his chest letting your arms dangle

-“why did you come? you look sick”

-“thanks. I have a test.”

-“how do you feel?”

-you told him your symptoms but also that you were leaving right after the test and you could pull through

-he really didn’t want you to overwork yourself but he knew you were set on taking the test

-so he let you go and he made you promise to text him between classes and let him know if you felt any worse

-and off you went

-honestly, you were fine up until halfway through your second class.. then you started feeling really cold and tired even kind of nauseous

-then in the third class your test was put onto your desk and before you knew it your teacher was saying “begin”

-okay. you can do this you thought to yourself. the test was easy enough with how much you studied, you thought about every answer and you tried to finish quick

-but then it was like time cut itself in half and the bell for lunch was ringing

-you weren’t even done the test yet

-“y/n you can stay in here until your done but i expect you to have it finished soon”

-one question left

-you don’t even remember what you ended up putting before you were up and giving the paper to your teacher

-kita was right there when you left the classroom

-“hey ..hey.. y/n”

-you could barely hear him you just flopped into his arms

-“okay I’m taking you home.. “

-“but..”

-“shh let’s go”

-you don’t remember getting there but then you were in your bed smothered in pillows and blankets

-kita came in

-“what time is it?”

-he looked at his phone “half past 4”

-“4?!” you jolted up “did you even go back to school?” “kita?!”

-he smiled at you “no but it’s okay y/n it was only one day. i wanted to take care of you

-you noticed he had a steaming cup of something in his hands

-“what’s that” you asked

-“its tea, but it’s special tea :)”

-“what do you mean” you laughed

-“my grandma showed me how to make it, it’s gonna make you feel a lot better”

-he’s so cute...

-“kita... you didn’t have to do all this”

-“i wanted to” he sits beside you and hands you the tea

-literally tasted like heaven

-“mmmmm oh my god”

-kita laughed and kissed you on the cheek before joining you in the bed

-you cuddled and watched movies on your laptop until you fell asleep, comfortable in your boyfriends arms

186 notes · View notes

foxghost · 3 years

Text

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 108

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 24 (Part 3)

It is nighttime, and they’re surrounded by darkness save for a single lamp hanging on the pier swaying gently in the breeze above the river.

One wave after another lands upon the river shore. Lang Junxia and Zheng Yan each hide behind a reef, staring at the wooden pier from afar.

At the very end of the pier lies a small cloth wrapped bundle.

Zheng Yan’s face abruptly breaks out in a smile. “I suddenly get this feeling that Wang Shan’s way of speaking reminds me of a certain someone.”

Lang Junxia doesn’t make a sound and continues to stare silently at the pier with his arms crossed. It’s been more than half an hour, but no one has come to pick up the bundle.

Once this has been said, the two of them each fall into silence again like a couple of wooden statues.

Suddenly, out of the river comes a drenched man. He presses one hand against the ground, and with the other pulls the bundle towards himself underwater.

Zheng Yan and Lang Junxia both seem startled before they fly towards it, but by then it’s already too late. That figure has once more dived into the river. With a slide of his feet Zheng Yan slips into the water, while Lang Junxia runs along the shore after him.

Inside the Bouquet Pavilion.

Scene after scene of the past flash past before Cai Yan and Duan Ling’s eyes.

Both of them seem to have returned to that spring where the peach blossoms were blooming; returned to the days of passing each other by in the Illustrious Hall, crossing their arms in front of them, nodding and greeting the other; returned to the night when they learned martial arts from Li Jianhong together, going through the motions of the Sword of the Realm; returned to the days where there was wailing everywhere as the city fell, blood running through the streets.

Cai Yan has returned to the moment he ripped away the white cloth covering his brother’s body, when his eyes were filled with fear and helplessness.

Fear pours out of Cai Yan’s body, making him so nervous that his stomach convulses, so nervous that he knocks over the empty cup in front of him.

All Duan Ling is doing is looking back at him, calm and quiet as the fear in Cai Yan grows with every passing moment as though the person sitting in front of him is a retaliatory ghost come to take his life, carrying with it the late Li Jianhong’s staggering fury and the condemnation of all of Great Chen.

He’s scared. Duan Ling has realised that as well — what’s he so scared of?

Duan Ling finds it all quite hilarious suddenly, as he realises where Cai Yan’s fear is coming from. It can’t be Duan Ling that he’s afraid of, but his dad. To think someone would be afraid of a dead man; his father’s power to intimidate seems not to have dissipated just because he’d fallen in battle, but instead had gone to lie low somewhere they couldn’t see — like a sharp knife that’s stabbed into Cai Yan’s soul, nailing him onto a memorial stele.

“Your Highness, please,” Duan Ling says smilingly, giving Wu Du a nudge with his elbow.

The literati trailing at Cai Yan’s side says frostily, “How gracious.”

Wu Du picks up his jug, and the literati picks up a jug as well. They each pour a cup of wine for the young man next to them.

Wu Du collects himself and says to Cai Yan, “Your Highness, this is my adoptive son, Wang Shan.”

“Wang … Wang Shan.” Cai Yan says in a trembling voice, “So it’s you.”

“I will drink this on His Highness’s behalf,” the literati says.

Since Duan Ling is the one who offered the wine, the literati thus knock back the drink for Cai Yan.

They’re both into a state of prolonged silence lasting so long that even the literati is starting to notice something is amiss. He asks Cai Yan, “Is Your Highness not feeling well?”

All Cai Yan wants to do is leave this place as quickly as he can. He forces himself to say, “It was too windy, and it’s given me a bit of a … stomachache.”

Oh how difficult must it be for you to have to come up with an excuse at a time like this, Duan Ling thinks. The anger he felt since the moment he laid eyes on Cai Yan has overpowered his reasoning, and all he wants to do is say more to provoke him, but as he’s about to start talking again, there’s suddenly a loud commotion outside.

“Don’t let him get away!” It’s Zheng Yan’s voice.

Duan Ling’s mind goes blank for a moment before the first thought comes to him, Amga is back! Without giving his mind time to pause, there’s another loud crash as Amga crashes right through the railing and drops right down to their floor. Wu Du and that literati are each busy protecting the one they’re trying to protect, and pull away from each other in two groups. Wu Du decisively draws his sword.

In the next instant, another person is turning over in the air, sending the screen flying with a kick. The screen flies right at Amga, shattering with a loud impact into dust.

Duan Ling retreats again and again, shielded behind Wu Du, and moves farther from Cai Yan. Then Amga grabs Cai Yan and kicks the literati away, putting his blade across Cai Yan’s neck.

The one who’d kicked the screen away would be Lang Junxia, with the drenched-through Zheng Yan following him closely behind. When they notice that Cai Yan has been captured, there is terror on both their faces.

“Tell us what you want,” Lang Junxia says. “Don’t waste any more time.”

Amga could never have expected to find himself a big fish such as this one after falling down the stairs. Only once his opponent started speaking did he notice that the hostage he grabbed is the crown prince of Great Chen, and he breaks into a smile.

“Interesting,” Amga says, “So it’s you, huh.”

Amga does a trick with his sabre, its edge dazzling in the lamplight, and Cai Yan stops breathing. Everyone is staring at Amga’s sabre-wielding hand, while Cai Yan is staring right at Duan Ling’s eyes.

“You tell me what the terms are,” Amga says, “We’re all smart people.”

Silence takes over the room and no one dares say anything; to their surprise it’s Duan Ling who eventually speaks first.

“Everyone stay back. Zheng Yan, go get him three horses. Is Khatanbaatar still here? Bring him down here and put him on a horse.”

Lang Junxia and Zheng Yan share a look. Zheng Yan nods at him, and he heads outside to get the horses ready.

Meanwhile, Lang Junxia has realised that Duan Ling and Cai Yan have already met face to face. He seems startled at first, then apprehensively he turns to Cai Yan to signal that he shouldn’t worry; he can take care of it.

“You,” Amga says to Wu Du, “move over there. Keep your distance.”

Wu Du and Duan Ling decide to simply move aside and enjoy the show.

Duan Ling turns over many ideas in his head, and there are a lot of things he’d like to say, but he ends up saying none of them.

Within a short while, footsteps are approaching again as another man runs into the room. “Your High— What’s going on?!”

That man is Chang Liujun, and he comprehends the situation as soon as he sees what’s going on inside the Bouquet Pavilion. Amga shouts an order, “All of you, get out!”

And so everyone backs out of the room. Lang Junxia looks between Cai Yan and Duan Ling, as though hesitating. Amga though just hurries him, “Move it!”

Everyone slowly backs out of the room.

They’re all staying quiet, and Duan Ling can basically guess what happened — Zheng Yan and Lang Junxia were waiting at the pier, and they ran into Amga when he went there to get the stuff. Once he got the bundle he must have come back into the city at top speed, running across the roofs to get into the Bouquet Pavilion, and when Lang Junxia and Zheng Yan were about to apprehend him, Amga finally got desperate.

“The horses are ready.” Zheng Yan comes in. “Let him go.”

All of the four great assassins are present, with Amga and the Cai Yan he captured on one side, and Duan Ling on the other side with Wu Du, Lang Junxia, Chang Liujun and Zheng Yan behind him.

Duan Ling thinks to himself, how lucky of you, Cai Yan. If you’re killed right now this will be a terrible mess to have to clean up.

“Is Khatanbaatar here?” Duan Ling says.

“Escort him out of the city,” Duan Ling says under his breath. “General Xie is on guard at the city gates, so he can’t get out on his own. We’ll take the lead, come on.”

The Bouquet Pavilion isn’t far from the city gate. They walk for a short while with Duan Ling and the four assassins leading the way, while Amga rides on the same horse as Cai Yan, trailing the group from far behind.

“We’re staking all of our lives on you,” Zheng Yan says, “if we can’t get His Highness back, we’ll just have to make a run for it and become fugitives.”

Duan Ling though would be rather glad for Amga to kidnap Cai Yan to the north; at any rate Batu would take care of him well enough. If the crown prince of their country is so simply kidnapped just like that, however, he has no idea how they’re going to explain it to Li Yanqiu. Getting rid of his opponent may only make his life more difficult.

Duan Ling turns back to glance at them as Chang Liujun asks the other three, “What happened?”

“I have no idea,” Duan Ling replies. “I was drinking at the Bouquet Pavilion.”

“I have no idea either,” Wu Du replies. “I was also drinking at the Bouquet Pavilion.”

“Amga came to pick up the bundle in person.” Zheng Yan is still all wet, his robe plastered onto his body. “He ran so fast we lost sight of him in an instant.”

Lang Junxia doesn’t make a peep, but this does verify Duan Ling’s theory.

“And what did you come here for?” Duan Ling asks Chang Liujun.

“The young master asked me to come apologise to His Highness,” Chang Liujun replies. “He couldn’t come tonight.”

“Are you alright?” Duan Ling has noticed that there’s blood seeping out of Zheng Yan’s arm, but Zheng Yan waves off his concern.

The five of them have already made it to the city gates. Lang Junxia produces the plaque hanging by his waist and shows it to the Black Armours guarding the city. “We need to leave the city on Eastern Palace business.”

Duan Ling borrows a set of bow and quiver from the soldiers.

Zheng Yan and Lang Junxia had just left the city earlier, so the soldiers are not going to bother with checking them. Then they ask, “What about those people behind you?”

“They’re with us,” Lang Junxia replies.

Amga escorts Cai Yan and keeps a distance of several dozen paces between them and the assassins, unwilling to get any closer.

Duan Ling says, “Wuluohou Mu, go get a boat ready for him.”

Lang Junxia leaves to get a boat, and so everyone waits for him to come back.

“I need to go relieve myself.” Duan Ling retreats into the darkness, winding his way to the shore. Wu Du follows him.

Duan Ling rips a small strip of cloth off his robe, and writes the words “May this letter find you well” onto it with a charcoal stick. He ties the cloth onto an arrow, and sliding the arrow under his sleeve, he returns to the harbour.

“Place Khatanbaatar on the boat,” Duan Ling adds.

The literati has also followed them out of the city, standing at a distance; he looks at one group and the other, wondering who Duan Ling could be that all four great assassins are perfectly willing to take his orders without question.

Amga sneers, “Sure enough, you’re the only smart person here.”

Duan Ling thinks to himself, if you really want him, the crown prince’s all yours, keep the change, but he says, “Go on, board the boat.”

“Wait a second!” Zheng Yan says, sounding panicked, “What do you mean? Get him back!”

Amga takes Cai Yan onto the boat with him; Lang Junxia and Zheng Yan run several steps after them. Chang Liujun says, “No way, Wang Shan. Don’t you mess with me.”

Heh, scared you, thinks Duan Ling, and as soon as Amga’s pole hits the water and the boat’s about to leave, Duan Ling shouts, “After him!”

Amga immediately kicks Cai Yan into the water. At the same time, Lang Junxia, who has chased them to the edge of the dock, stops in his tracks, but Zheng Yan is throwing himself into the water again.

Duan Ling knew Amga would kick Cai Yan into the water to buy himself time; he was never worried that Amga would actually take Cai Yan with him.

Yet after the great splash as Zheng Yan dived into the water to save Cai Yan, Amga is yelling this at them from the already distant boat, “Your crown prince is a fake —! You’ve all been fooled!”

Duan Ling stares at him speechlessly. Wu Du, Lang Junxia, Chang Liujun, as well as the literati who’s run up to them all look horrified. Even Duan Ling never expected for Amga to yell it out just like that!

Momentarily distracted, Duan Ling only remembers the arrow now. He immediately fires the arrow, and it flies like a shooting star into the dark, but he has no idea whether it’s buried itself into the boat or if it’s fallen into the river.

Another moment passes before Zheng Yan crawls out of the river with the soaked Cai Yan in his arms. Lang Junxia and Chang Liujun both rush up to check on Cai Yan. “Are you alright, Your Highness?”

Duan Ling gives Wu Du a nudge to tell him he should go and at least put on a show of caring. Wu Du can but go to them and check Cai Yan’s pulse.

“Your Highness,” Duan Ling replies, “apologies if I’ve offended you. It’s all my fault, truly.”

Cai Yan doesn’t even have the strength left to speak anymore, and waves the apology off, looking quite wretched.

The literati leads a horse over to them and says, “Your Highness, I’ll take you back to the palace.”

Cai Yan says weakly, “All of you … all of you …”

“Your Highness?” The literati says.

“Feng Duo,” Zheng Yan says, “do take His Highness back at once. Don’t let him catch a cold now.”

“I’ll be returning as well,” says Lang Junxia.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

43 notes · View notes

aperrywilliams · 3 years

Text

Couvade (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: The team having weeks full of work, traveling across the country. Tiredness is taking its toll on Reader and Spencer.

Word Count: 3747.

Warnings: References to headaches, stomachaches, and another “aches” as well. Couple discussions. Spencer losing his temper. Spencer and Reader clueless. But fluffy in the end.

A/N: Work has drained all my energy these last few weeks. Something from our favorite doctor to get me back.

——————–

In recent months the cases that were coming to the BAU were a true roller coaster in many ways: some simpler, others tremendously difficult and rough. Some local others far across the country.

With all this turmoil, there wasn't much time left for personal life. My advantage, if I had to compare myself to my colleagues, was that my boyfriend worked with me and at least we could see each other a few moments a day and spend some time together on the jet traveling from one place to another.

I think Spencer also saw it as an advantage, even though as the weeks went by following this same rhythm he was much more irritable and angry than usual. Not that Spencer is an irritable man by definition, quite the contrary, but the work’ stress was taking its toll on us and he was no exception.

One of the few mornings we were able to be quiet in the BAU offices, I approached his desk. It caught my attention that he had the palms of his hands covering his mouth.

“Spencer, ¿what’s wrong?”. Looking at him, I saw that he was paler than usual.

“Nothing , I'm fine. I just feel a little nauseous. Apparently the muffin for breakfast made my stomach funny”, he lamented.

“Baby , I'm sorry. I should have asked when it was made when I bought it,” I tried to apologize.

“It's not your fault. It may be that my stomach is more fussy than usual,” he said with a sigh. Sigh that was apparently interrupted by another nausea. In two seconds Spencer was on her feet running towards the bathroom.

Not that Spencer is a tremendously healthy person, but it was rare to see him sick, except for his headaches and his periods of insomnia, which we were both used to living with from time to time. But this was different. Spencer rarely caught a cold or had stomach problems, even given all the coffee and sugar she consumed daily.

In general, when men feel sick they are like children . And in Spencer Reid that was increased by three. Thus, throughout that day I was concerned with checking his condition, preparing herbal tea and doing everything possible to prevent him from drinking coffee. When we got to the apartment that we had shared for more than a year, I made sure to make soup for him and send him to bed early.

In the following days his stomach discomfort began to disappear. A relief, because my genius boyfriend was unbearable during all those days, so much that we argued about almost anything. I also felt irritable and overwhelmed by the amount of work we had, and besides having to take care of Spencer .

Another case, another trip. On the jet on the way to San Francisco, and after reviewing details of the case, I went to sit next to Spencer. I wanted to apologize for our last discussion that morning. When I got closer he was reading a book, but I knew he wasn't really reading since the pages weren't turning. I was sure he was attentive to how I approached his side.

“Spencer... baby...,” I said in the softest and most tender voice I could. I did not get an answer. “Spencer ... can you look at me please?”. The second call was less friendly. He raised his eyes to look at me.

“I'm looking at you (Y/N),” he replied with a bored expression that began to annoy me and even regret wanting to apologize.

“Thank you. Can you close your book too? I need to talk to you”. Not very enthusiastically he shut the book and put it to the side of the seat.

“Done. What do you want to talk about?”. Same look and same voice. I didn't want to be upset with him, but he was making it difficult for me. I took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I want to apologize for our discussion this morning. I know I said not very kind things to you. None of that was truth, you have to believe me. It's just that I also feel overwhelmed by everything and I understand that you are tired, but I am too and you know that I say things without thinking when I am like this…”. His gaze softened when he saw that I was genuine and tears even started to come out of me without my meaning to. He sighed and extended his arms for me to snuggle with him, which I did immediately burying my face into his chest.

“I must also apologize. I didn't react in the best way either. I yelled at you and that's not right. I also feel overwhelmed and tired, more than usual. Being sick last week didn't help me much either… ”. He hugged me tight so I felt his words were sincere.

“I'm sorry. I hope this job’s rhythm drops in the next few days, I don't want to live fighting with you”. I said giving him a soft kiss on his chin and drying my tears.

“I don’t want that either. In fact, I think we should take a few days off, just for us. At this point I am having a hard time separating work’s moments from our private’s moments,” he stated.

Spencer was right. What seemed to be positive also had its bad side: Which was the real boundary between the professional and the personal? We always tried our relationship wasn’t a problem for our job, but it was also important to do the reverse exercise: our job shouldn't be a problem for our relationship either.

All this time that we had been on this beat - more than 10 weeks and counting – we had no enough time to spend together like a real couple. The last time we had sex was before Spencer got sick and it was a quicky in my hotel room during a case in Denver. And before that, I don’t even remember well.

I hadn't felt very good either. Going from place to place around the country had me dizzy most of the time and with headaches for weeks. Of course, none of that managed to incapacitate me at work, so I didn’t take it seriously and didn’t tell anyone about it . I also had a few days with stomach pain and nausea, which I explained by the poor diet we were having between so much travel. After a few weeks I began to feel better from these discomforts, but irritability and tiredness continued.

I was still cuddling with Spencer when I felt him whine shifting for a more comfortable position into the seat.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?,” I asked lifting my head to look at him.

“Since yesterday I have a back pain that is killing me. (Y/N), I still have some years to go to turn 40 and I already feel like an old man!,” he complained.

“We haven't slept well either. Hotel beds are not the best. I have also had back pain some weeks ago. But I think I'm used to that and it doesn't hurt so much anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’m complaining about my pain and you too haven't felt well lately. I'm failing miserable as a boyfriend”. He gave me a kiss on the forehead, hugging me tight again.

“I didn't want to worry you with those things. I know how you get when something happens to me, surely you would have insisted on me taking a leave. And it's not a big deal. The worst is the tiredness and the bad mood, besides that I feel that my body weighs on me. I gained weight grossly. I look awful,” I said, pouting.

“Of course you’re not. You look beautiful. Tired… but beautiful”. He took my chin and gave me a soft kiss on my lips.

“You say it just to not make me feel bad,” I replied when we pulled away.

“(Y/N), I mean it. You know I like everything about you,” Spencer replied as he stroked my back and rested his chin on my head. How I missed those moments with Spencer, even though I wish they weren't on the jet on their way to a case.

The San Francisco case was terrible. We were in the fifth day and couldn't identify the unsub yet. We were sleeping very little and badly. We couldn't even agree between ourselves on the profile, which triggered a heated discussion with Spencer while we were in the meeting room we had been assigned to work. The worst thing was having this argument in front of the whole team.

“You are not seeing the obvious (Y/N), it’s impossible this can be done by a single person. There aren't any hints of that in the evidence”. Spencer spat as he pointed to the board with the notes and photos we had.

“Are you saying I don't know how to do my job? I am seeing the same evidence as you, but you are so obsessed with your theory that you are not able to think of other possibilities”, I replied back.

“Obsessed? Oh no, no. The only one obsessed with a theory here is you. You have not put any evidence of what you are saying!”

“Don’t say that. Look at this board! What do all these photos tell you? Why couldn't it be a single person with a psychotic break? Can't you see the pattern? I began to despair and inadvertently tears I couldn’t control began to fall. That upset Spencer even more.

“Your crying isn’t going to convince me of this stupid theory (Y/N)!,” he shot almost making my heart shatter. Watching the exchange grow increasingly rough, Prentiss finally intervened.

“Reid! Enough!,” she said seeing how I couldn't control my tears and my hands started to shake. At the wake-up call, Spencer fell silent and realized my state. I started to feel dizzy. He tried to grab my arm and I avoided him.

“Don’t touch me!,” I yelled at him, as I headed straight to leave the room, but the dizziness intensified and I fell to the floor losing consciousness.

***

I managed to grab (Y/N)'s head before it hit the floor. At that moment I realized that I had lost my temper and had pushed (Y/N) to the limit. JJ immediately came over to help me. We checked the pulse and checked for any injuries. Meanwhile, Rossi went in search of the paramedics.

I felt a lump in my throat. Suddenly the nausea returned. I couldn't help myself and ran to the bathroom. I was cursing myself for not being able to control myself. My girlfriend had passed out because of me and I couldn't even be with her because I felt sick again.

When I came out of the bathroom I was intercepted by Emily in the hallway. She told me that (Y/N) had regained consciousness but they would take her to the hospital for a check-up anyway. I just wanted to go with her.

“JJ went with her and the paramedics. I'll let you go with her, but first tell me what's going on between you both. You two have been between fights and reconciliations for weeks. Your mood is a roller coaster, we no longer know what happens to you. I understand that we are all tired of this rhythm, but in you guys it seems like something unbearable! Are you okay? Can you tell me Spencer…”. Emily was right. We had weeks between discussions and mutual apologies. Now, I couldn't find a mildly convincing reason for the situation.

“I honestly don't know. I don't know what happens to us. Until a few weeks ago everything was fine and now… I don't know. I can't control myself. There are days when I feel tired, jaded. Others where everything seems normal. I have felt sick more often. I can't even stand myself sometimes,” I said scratching my head.

“Whatever it’s, I think you need to talk. This kind of outburst can't happen again, Spencer. Now go with her”

“Are you sure?... what about the case?...” I asked.

“Unbelievably, your argument gave us a clue. Rossi, Luke, and Tara are analyzing it now. So don't worry about the case, go. Talk to (Y/N)”. I nodded and ran to the hospital.

***

When I regained consciousness I was still in the meeting room, JJ was holding my head and a paramedic was checking my vitals. I felt embarrassed. I wanted to get up but JJ wouldn't let me. She told me that they would take me to the hospital to check me up even though I had already regained consciousness. I just shrugged. I didn’t know why so much commotion, for me it was just fatigue and the anger of the moment. Anger that still ran through my body, because I didn't even want to ask where Spencer was.

At the hospital a nurse came to my room and asked JJ leave the room for a moment. Then she took blood samples from me, measured my blood pressure, among other things. When she was doing that she asked me what happened. The nurse asked me too about my health in the previous weeks and I told her about my back pain, bloating, headaches, nausea and dizziness. She just nodded and told me that we should wait for the tests to rule out things and conclude if it was only fatigue and stress that triggered my fainting. Then she left the room and JJ came in again.

“What did she tell you?,” JJ asked me.

“Nothing yet. She took samples and said we have to wait,” I replied shrugging.

“What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. I guess it's stress. In the last two months we have not had a truce JJ, I don't know how you are still standing…,” I said with a sigh.

“Yeah, I know. We have had very intense weeks lately. But it looks like it hit you and Spencer a lot harder. Are you two okay?”. There was genuine concern in her voice, but honestly I didn't have an explanation beyond the obvious: stress.

“Yes , I guess. I mean, it's true that we've argued more often, but that doesn't change how I feel about Spencer. In the opposite. It's weird what I'm going to say, but I miss him. I mean, I miss our moments together without having to think about work or argue”. I hadn't realized that tears were already coming from my eyes. “Shit JJ, and now I'm crying and I don't know why… I should be mad! He yelled at me in front of everyone and called me stupid!”

“You need to talk about it, (Y/N). I'm sure he didn't mean it”

“He is an idiot, JJ. He is almost more insufferable than me…”. I crossed my arms over my chest frowning just thinking about what happened. And as if it were fate, at that precise moment Spencer Reid made his appearance in the hospital room.

***

I walked into the hospital room and saw (Y/N) on the bed with her arms crossed over her chest talking to JJ. They both looked at me standing in the doorway. I could see (Y/N)’s anger on her face. She had right, I wasn't going to blame her for that. I steeled myself and approached (Y/N). If I had to receive her anger, I was willing to accept it.

“How do you feel?,” I asked. I wanted to take her hand, but she quickly pushed it away.

“Fine”. She didn't even want to look at me. Her eyes fixed on her feet covered by the hospital bed’s sheets. At that moment JJ got up from her chair heading to the door.

“I’ll be outside calling the team. I let you talk for a while”. On leaving JJ closed the door. (Y/N) still didn't look at me.

“(Y/N)… I’m so sorry. Baby, I'm really sorry. I lost control. I don’t know what happened to me. Nothing I said I meant it. (Y/N), you have to believe me, I don't want you to think I don't value your job. That’s not true, you are invaluable to the team. You are an excellent profiler…,” I was looking at her with pleading eyes.

“You yelled at me. You treated me lousy. I don't know what is wrong with you. If you're as overwhelmed as I am, that doesn't give you the right to do what you did either”. She looked up and I could see that she was hurt. That broke my heart.

“I know. I'm sorry. I don’t know what's happening to me these weeks. I would like to give you a better explanation, but I don't have one. I know it’s wrong and I promise I will do whatever it takes to make up to you. I love you, (Y/N). I can’t stand see you hurt because of me”. This time she reached for my hand and squeezed it hard.

“I should hate you Spencer Reid. But I can't…” (Y/N) said shaking her head and huffing. “I guess I must believe you this time. You are not forgiven yet, though,” she warned me. I kissed her hand nodding in agreement. At that moment the doctor entered the room, still checking a folder with many papers.

“Miss (Y/L/N), good afternoon, I’m Dr. Anna Ragger, how are you feeling?”

“Much better now, thank you doctor,” the doctor nodded looking at me. “He is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend,” (Y/N) hastened to explain.

“Ah. Nice to meet you. Well, I have the results from your blood tests.” I was standing next to (Y/N) without releasing her hand.

“Is there something I should be concerned about doctor?”, (Y/N) asked.

“It depends on what you consider to be a concern, but I would say no,” doctor replied with a shy smile on her face. I looked at (Y/N) who had the same confused face as me. Before the doctor could say anything else, I felt my stomach twist again. Dr. Ragger looked at me strangely.

“Is something wrong sir?,” she asked. When my nausea subsided, I was only able to speak.

“I'm fine. I've only been with some stomachaches for a few weeks…,” I mumbled.

“What else did you feel? Fatigue? Headaches? Body aches? Mood changes?,” Dr. Ragger asked. I looked at her in amazement. She had perfectly described my symptoms of the past weeks. (Y/N) was frowning trying to understand what was happening.

“Yeah… ehm… all of them. Well, we've had very difficult weeks at work,” I replied. The doctor tried to hide a smile.

“Have you heard of Couvade syndrome?,” I thought for a few seconds and yes, I knew what it was.

“Yeah. Couvade syndrome is something that happens to men when their partners are pregnant. It emulates the symptoms that women experience during the first trimester of pregnancy,” I explained. The doctor nodded, smiling. (Y/N) dropped her jaw. Dr. Ragger, seeing I had not thought enough about my own words, intervened again.

“That likely explains your symptoms...”

“You mean I have that syndrome? I don't think so, because for that to happen (Y/N) would have to be... oh!”. The realization hit me like a freight train. “Oh!”, I exclaimed and looked at (Y/N) and then turned my eyes again to the doctor. “(Y/N) is...?”

“That's right, Miss (Y/L/N) is pregnant. Congratulations!”.

“Oh my God, are you sure Dr. Ragger?,” (Y/N) asked almost jumping out of bed. I started to feel dizzy. Dr. Ragger noticed my reaction and helped me to sit in the chair where JJ was before leaving the room.

“Yes miss (Y/L/N), your symptoms are consistent with pregnancy, and the blood tests confirmed it. My guess is that you must be in your 10th week of pregnancy, which would explain why your boyfriend would be experiencing similar symptoms. It doesn't happen to all men, of course, but there is always a possibility,” she explained. A little less dizzy I got up from the chair and stand beside (Y/N) holding her hand, still paralyzed. She was astonished yet.

“Well. Now that we are clear about the reasons for your symptoms, you are ready to go home miss (Y/L/N). Talk to your obstetrician about the next steps. Congratulations again,” Dr. Ragger stated before leaving the room.

Once we stayed alone in the room, (Y/N) shook her head in disbelieve. Maybe my face still didn't reflect it, but inside I was burning with happiness. Admittedly, it wasn't something we would have planned, but I was ecstatic at the news. I noticed tears began to roll down (Y/N)'s cheeks. I panicked. Maybe she was not happy with the news.

“Baby, what is it?”

“Spencer... we hadn't planned this. We hadn't even talked about the possibility of having children. And now it's happening... I’m happy, but I don't know if you want this. I can't force you to be with me for that. If you're not comfortable with this, it’s okay, I'll understand... really,” (Y / N) began to cry. I took her cheeks with my hands.

“Hey, look at me. Everything is gonna be okay. We will be okay. I love you so much (Y/N), and that's reason enough for me wanting everything with you. I want to be with you, I want to have children with you. I want you to be my wife. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me the happiest man in the world, and that is why it hurts when I see you suffer for something I did. Please forgive me for these days that I have put you through...,” I said kissing her forehead. I could feel her body relaxed at my words. She took a deep breath.

“Only if you're willing to forgive me for what I'm going to put you through in the next few months... and the rest of your life, Dr. Reid,” (Y/N) said now with a small smile on her face.

“Fair is fair. I'll face it happily,” I replied laughing. I was so pleased seeing the woman who made me so happy every day smiling again.

“I love you Spencer,” she said in a whisper into my lips before kissing me.

“I love you… both,” I replied when we parted. Both smiling and happy for what the future held for us.

——————–

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #dr. spencer reid #couvade

126 notes · View notes

sicjimin · 3 years

Note

Hello 🙂

Would you be willing to do a namgi fic (platonic or romantic) where Namjoon has a bad stomachache, but he has to push through an awards ceremony, performance and be a leader and all that jazz. Yoongi is trying to comfort him the whole time.

Take care of yourself.

A.N : my first namjoon fic !! eheh thank u for requesting :] this such a cute idea. I'm sorry this took a longgg time T.T I hope this does justice to your expectation .. :D

Ever since their debut, the end of the year—where most of the awards ceremony take time— is the scariest time in his life. It always brings more unnecessary anxiousness in his body rather than on daily basis. This year is no different .. or, if it's any different, he was more fucked up this time.

Namjoon knows he was fuck up when he feels full after few spoons of his dinner. He ate half of it before he pushed the bowl away, gaining a questioning look from his boyfriend, "You're not gonna finish it?", Yoongi asks. Namjoon huff as he gives a rub on his stomach, it genuinely feels tight, " Mhm, no. I'm full already". Yoongi frowns grown deeper, "But you barely eat anything since lunch though?"

"I know,", Namjoon brush his hair back with frustration, " I just, don't feel like it", he feels worse as time goes by, "let's finish up your food and go home hyung, I'm tired". Yoongi gives the latter one last curious look before back to his food. Being Namjoon's boyfriend for the last 2 years and his best friend for the last 8 years, making him know the younger by the back of his hand. He knows something is up with Namjoon, and his assumption proven right when Namjoon dozing off in the car back home. Namjoon can't handle silence in the car— at least there should be a radio, and now seeing him not protest or whine with the complete silence is making Yoongi more alerted.

When they arrived, Namjoon was moving so fast— it seems like he couldn't wait to curled himself to sleep, because Yoongi just finished parking the car and got into their room, he already greeted by Namjoon's figure curled under the blanket. Yoongi sighs before he retreats himself to the bathroom.

He scoots himself to his side of the bed, propped his head on his arms to support his body. He runs his fingers through the younger hair, knowing well that he's not sleeping —judging by how forced the closed eyes there. Yoongi whispers as his hand now move to graze the latter cheeks, "Joonie, hey, you're not sleeping, are you?"

Namjoon groans and turns his body so he could face the older. He wraps his hand around Yoongi's little waist, pushing the older closer so he could nuzzle his head further, "Mhm, can't". Yoongi's touch is so calming, Namjoon actually starts to dozing off as Yoongi plays with his hair, " Why? You look off after dinner". Then its silence between them, "You're sick, right?", Yoongi adds. Namjoon huff, he really can't hide anything from his boyfriend, " I can't say I'm sick .. like literally sick since it's only my stomach that hurts so bad. Maybe it's only dinner not agreeing with me hyung", Namjoon mustered a strained smile, "Lets just sleep hyung. I will feel better later. We got a long day tomorrow". Yoongi observes his boyfriend longer before giving up and groans, " Oh shit .. award shows. I hate that", Namjoon giggles, "Oh tell me about it hyung"

—

Yoongi eyeing his boyfriend that seated beside him, observing the younger through their mirror as the staff applying their makeup. They still have around 35 minutes before the red carpet starts. Yoongi could see how Namjoon getting worse as the second pass by, judging by how color has drained from his lips—making the makeup noona applying more lipbalm to conceal it— and how his hands never leaving his stomach. Yoongi turns his gaze to his mirror again, his hands slowly moving to reach Namjoon's and interlaced it. He grazes his thumbs over the latter palms. Yoongi could feel Namjoon's head turn to face him, before he turns back the squeeze.

The rest of the award show went like a blur for Namjoon. It feels like he is a robot that talks automatically once camera is on. Cheers to his 10 years of experience in interviews and red carpet, he successfully going through that one. The only thing left is enjoying the performance, accepting awards if they got some, and their performance.

Namjoon sighs in relief when he could see their seat. It still a few hours until their performance, at least he still could calm down his stomach that now feels worse after all the acts he pulled. He grabs the tissue on his suit pocket and crumpled it, absorbing cold sweats that starts making its way along with wave of cramps that shooting him on and off. He turns his head when he sees a commotion on his side with his peripheral sight, "Hyung? Arent your seat near Taehyung?", he asks when he sees Yoongi seated beside him, " I asked Jungkook to change"

"Why?"

"Dont you want to be near with me?", Yoongi asks back. Namjoon bites his inner cheeks, holding himself to sighs in joy and let out a stupid smile. Damn, he loves his boyfriend so much.

"I'm okay hyung", Namjoon says softly. He knows why Yoongi clings with him. He means, if the situation reversed where Yoongi needs to go through schedule after puking his guts out in the morning and complaining stomachache, he would cling to Yoongi too. "You're breaking cold sweats Namjoon-ah, and your hands are trembling", Yoongi says softly, worry is prominent in his voice. Namjoon widened his eyes, he forgot how observant his boyfriend is. " How bad is it?"

Namjoon bites his lower lips as he watched the performer on stage, "It feels like someone is squeezing wet towel inside me, hyung", Yoongi grazes his thumbs over the younger boy's palms, " Do you want to ask for medicine? We still have a long time here"

Namjoon shakes his head, "I think i still can handle this hyung. Don't worry"

But favor didn't work on Namjoon's side, since it's only been 30 minutes after he said with confidence "I can handle this" to his boyfriend now he's fighting with his iced americano that begging to come out. He squirms in his seat, trying to found a comfortable position that maybe could help to calm his bubbling stomach. The performer on the stage was just a mere figure that dancing and singing there, Namjoon's focus was already gone. He moves his position again as he let out a nauseated huff. He feels hot flush all over his body. He took a glance on Yoongi, hoping that his boyfriend catch how uncomfortable he's right now. and he's right.

"Joon-ah", Yoongi calls, his eyes filled with worry. Namjoon gulps down the liquid that was creeping on his throat, " Yoongi, i think i need to go to the bathroom for a minute"

"Let me go with you", Yoongi already lifts his body before Namjoon push him back softly, " No", Namjoon hushed, "Fans might be worried if there are a lot of us that gone. I will go alone"

"Are you sure you will be okay?"

Namjoon shuts his eyes closed and nods, "I will be back", he says before walking down through artist seats. When he couldn't hear more noise from the stage and entering the hallway with fewer people, he speeds up his legs and burst the stall door—he's lucky no one is there— when he sees one. The next thing he knows his body takes over as dark brown watery liquid rushing through his mouth and splashes to the water below. He gasps a quick air as his stomach cramps again, bringing another round of warm liquid out of his body. He keeps pouring wave after wave. His body bent further following the motion of his cramped stomach. He is almost sure if it's not because of his hand holding on the wall and the toilet tightly, he already falls over. Namjoon sniffles after the wave tapered down and only bitter bile spurting out. Terrible is beyond an understatement. He leaned to the wall as his body almost give up—if he didn't remember the stylist noona nagging that he will get if he stained his suit. Namjoon rubs his stomach, he already feels empty, but it still sloshing and twisting. He bites his lips as tears escaped his eyes. He needs Yoongi.

"Joon-ah?", Namjoon eyes widened. His cloudy brain tries to figure whose voice is that, but failed. "Joon? Are you here?"

Oh. Its Yoongi. Namjoon gulped down the lump in his throat before weakly answered, "Here"

The stall door opened, showing his tiny boyfriend figure, "How are you feeling?", Yoongi softly says as he makes his way to the stall. He flushed the toilet and guided the younger body to his, " 'm feeling terrible, hyung"

Yoongi rubs his back, "I know. Do you want to just rest in the dressing room? There's no way you could perform and all, Joon-ah", Yoongi leaner back a bit so he could see his boyfriend's face, but to no avail, as the younger nuzzled his head deeper on him, " I cant hyung," Namjoon mumbled, "I'm the leader. and if i suddenly disappear, fans will be worried. Everything will be a mess"

Yoongi sighs, he knows there's no way he could convince the younger if he already made up his mind, "Ok but let's ask staff for medicine first. I don't want you to go back there with an empty stomach and no medicine in your body", Namjoon weakly nods before he rinses his mouth and gets dragged by his boyfriend to do whatever he wants him to do.

—

The rest of the award shows goes well. Namjoon managed to give 2 speeches for the awards they received, and the rest of it, the members gratefully backing him up for speaking. Yoongi never left his side during the whole event, gently squeezing his hand every time Namjoon tightens his grip whenever cramps hit him, and rubbing his palm softly whenever he sees Namjoon start being jittery and can't stop gulping down sick. Short to say, he's couldn't ask for a better Yoongi. Namjoon also needs to give applause to his body that still manages to jump, run, and practically— function normally during their performance. It feels like his body understands his duty as he was fine the whole performance, even until closing, and just give up when the time they entered the dorm—as he bolts from the car and runs to throw himself to the toilet for another harsh round of puking his guts out.

"I was wondering how you suddenly manage to act fine the whole time .. it seems like your body is already set up as an idol, hm?", Yoongi murmured as his hand rubbing Namjoon's arched back that still contracts, sending whatever remains from the younger stomach to go out. Namjoon leaned back when he managed to stop dry heaving, his hand shakily wipes his mouth and his nose before he chuckles weakly, " I guess that's the perks of 10 years idol?"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #caretaker!yoongi #sick!namjoon

33 notes · View notes

dastardlydandelion · 3 years

Note

Billy having the bust appendix episode?

so i combined these into one thingy??

also the latter, uh, it's. like?? i played w ur prompt, dude, chose to focus more on the concept of "not lasting" w susan and max tho bc if i write neil for too long it'll inevitably turn into another murder fic.

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced/discussed abuse, brief suicidal ideation

“Day four of fever, fella. That’s no fun.” Susan sets the thermometer aside with a frown and brushes the back of her hand over his cheek.

Billy blinks slowly at the touch. It wasn’t that long ago that he would’ve pushed her away. He hasn’t exactly enjoyed having the Stomach Flu From Hell for the better half of the week, but he supposes if there was ever a time to get sick, it’s now. Because these past few days have been the last few days he’s ever going to get with Susan and Max. He can use being sick as an excuse to let them get close like this. He can let himself let them close without feeling defensive or embarrassed because after tonight, he’ll never see them again.

“I feel better,” he mumbles as she brushes his fringe back, pad of her thumb gingerly lingering over the nick in his brow. “Really, Sue, s’not as bad today.”

And it’s not. Today’s Wednesday and he’s been feeling shitty since Sunday night, sluggish and nauseous with a nagging stomachache. He managed not to puke up Sunday dinner until Monday morning, although he didn’t actually make it to the bathroom. Susan scrubbed it out of his bedroom carpet even though Billy told her to leave it. Max stayed home from school to keep him company, which really…genuinely meant a lot to Billy, considering skipping school meant sacrificing some of the little time remaining with her friends. And she did it to just to hang out with his sweaty, grouchy, probably contagious and definitely less sociable self.

His stomachache got worse throughout the day but he hadn’t said anything about it to anyone. Didn’t say anything on Tuesday either, even though by evening it hurt so fucking bad it was like there was an invisible knife carving into his guts, blade twisting so terribly the only thing that helped at all was curling into a fetal position. Billy was almost frightened, actually. He doesn’t believe he’s ever felt worse than the torture he went through Tuesday, not even at his father’s hands.

But he couldn’t say anything. Not with everything going on. He wouldn’t do anything to possibly compromise the plan. Couldn’t let himself do anything that could delay their escape. So he sucked it up and kept his mouth screwed shut, endured in silence.

The relentless agony of nonexistent knives twisting through his guts kept him up all night. Then very early this morning, just as the sunrise’s first rays began to lighten the sky, the pain subsided. Billy still feels uncomfortable and he’d probably hurl again if he got a whiff of goat cheese or canned sardines, but it doesn’t compare to the misery of last night.

“How about I put the kettle on? Ginger tea is good for stomach bugs.”

“Nah.”

“What about chamomile?”

“No.”

“Peppermint?”

“Stop, Sue. I don’t want tea.”

“Please. You’ve barely kept anything down all week and you’re sweating like a turkey at Christmas. You’ll feel even worse if you get dehydrated, Billy.”

Susan retracts her hand with a fretful noise in her throat and turns to the door. With a sudden spike of panic that she’s— she’s leaving —he frees an arm from the blanket and grabs her wrist. Susan jumps as though she’s touched a hot stove. Billy immediately lets go. He wasn’t thinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Susan, I just…”

Chewing her lip, she nods down at him. She carefully sits on the edge of his bed, one leg folding on the mattress, opposite foot still on the floor. She takes his face in her chilly hands and Billy heaves out a sigh.

“I wish things were different,” she murmurs. “If the, uh…if the p-place Max and I are going accepted boys your age, you’d be coming with us. I promise I’d take you with us if I could.”

The shelter doesn’t allow male children over age twelve, Susan had informed Billy the night she told him they were leaving. She’d said it apologetically, eyes sorrowful like the look she’s giving him right now. She’s said it like it scraped her throat on the way out, tragic and grave as though she were reading him his own obituary.

It was the oddest thing Billy couldn’t begin to comprehend. He wouldn’t go with them even if going with them was an option. And never had he ever expected it to be an option. He doesn’t understand why Susan is looking at him like that.

“I just grabbed you. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

Susan’s face twitches like he’s the one being weird, like it isn’t she who’s looking at him with all these things he never wanted from her.

“You didn’t hurt me, Billy, just startled me a bit. I’m as skittish as a doe and of course today is…it’s a big day.”

“…what time?”

Susan spares a glance to his door. Still shut. Neil’s getting ready for work and he wouldn’t dare enter Billy’s room right now anyway. Wouldn’t risk catching whatever Billy has. He’d sent Susan in the bathroom Monday after Billy had barely stumbled out, wan from the latest round of purging, in drill sergeant mode and demanding that Susan bleach every contaminated tile.

“Noon. I want to drive in the daylight. Max is staying home from school. I told your father she caught your bug.”

Billy raises a brow.

“She didn’t,” Susan clarifies. “But he didn’t question the excuse. She’s sleeping in, I think it’s best to let her sleep in. It’s a big day.”

“Big day,” Billy repeats quietly.

Susan’s hands are still on his face, gentle and cool. Billy feels hot. The past few days he’s felt too cold or too hot, no in between. He’s either burrowing under the blankets to ward off the icy chills or laying on the bathroom tile to ease the sensation of roasting in his skin.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? You don’t have to drink it, but I’d appreciate it if you did. Fluids are important, Billy.”

Susan slides her hands off and Billy wonders if perhaps that’s the last time she’ll ever touch him. She leaves his room. Quietly closes the door behind her. Billy rolls onto his side and wraps his arm around his stomach, wondering if he should’ve let her closer before. If he should’ve let Max closer too.

Maybe it’s better he didn’t. Maybe losing them would hurt more if he did. And it does hurt. Even when the minutes tick down to the time they will exchange their final goodbyes, he’ll never say it out loud, but it hurts. It’s going to gut him when they go.

But it’s good that they’re going. And it’s good that he’s not. Billy ensured early on that Susan knew never to act like his mother. And Susan never seemed particularly passionate about trying, maybe there was even some relief for her that Billy had shut down every feeble attempt, that she never had to claim him. Billy never asked for Max either. The responsibility of a little sister. The pressure of having to set a good example for her, more reasons for Neil to be pissed at him whenever he inexorably failed. Max thought he was cool when they were younger, then there was that really rough patch after the move, and now things are better.

Things are probably the best they’ve ever been between him and Susan, between him and Max, and he’s going to miss them. Billy wants them to leave. Billy wants to be left. But the separation, the severing, the knowledge that he will never see them again pounds his heart like brass knuckles. He’s never going to watch Susan take another spider outside in a tissue, humming her weird little singsong. He’s never going to have to groan and roll his eyes over being Max’s designated chauffeur to the arcade, the park, the monster movie matinee.

He’s going to be alone with Neil.

Susan brings Billy a ceramic mug of steaming tea. She feels his forehead and probes at the sides of his neck, humming in concern. He would never let her fawn over him without a fight on a normal day. He’s only receptive now because he knows they aren’t going to be in each other’s lives anymore. He doesn’t know what to do with the fact that he kind of likes the fawning, but maybe he wouldn’t— maybe he wouldn’t like it at all if she wasn’t leaving, maybe the leaving makes it special. Or maybe it’s easier to think of it that way than to wonder if it would’ve been better to have this kind of relationship all along.

Billy watches the steam rise from the mug. He doesn’t touch the tea. He’s exhausted and he finds himself drifting, dozing off…

When Billy blinks his eyes back open, he’s dismayed to find his stomach hurting again. It might actually be the stomachache that wakes him up. Either the stomachache or Max in the doorway, hand on the knob.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now.” Billy begins to push himself up on his elbows, pauses when his gut lurches.

So much for that plan.

He settles back, and rolls onto his side, tucking his knees up to his chest under the blanket. Some of the pain abates. This position is still the winner.

“Are you okay?” Max rests her hand on the mattress, cocking her head to the side. “Do you need the trash can again?”

“Nah.”

“Okay…My mom’s loading up the car.”

“Yeah?” Billy really hopes she isn’t here to ask him to help. If she does, he will, but just the idea of rolling out of bed sounds like a grandiose effort.

“Yeah. Can I hang out for a little bit?”

Something thick rises in his throat. “Sure thing, shitbird.”

Max climbs onto the bed and over Billy, jostling him enough to make him queasy. She sits at his back. He can’t see her but he feels her hand settle on his shoulder.

“Your room smells like gym socks and barf,” she remarks, scowl audible in her voice.

“When you catch this from me, your room’s gonna smell the same way,” he mutters. Only after the words have left his lips, does Billy really realize what he’s said.

Max’s bedroom here on Cherry Lane isn’t really her bedroom anymore. Susan’s putting her belongings in the car. The next time Max gets sick, maybe it won’t be in a bedroom of her own at all. Or it will be her bedroom in a house far away from here. It’ll be a room Billy will never go in and he’ll never have the opportunity to tease her.

“I’m kinda nervous about the shelter, Billy,” she admits, voice quiet and unsure. “I was nervous when we first moved to Hawkins too. But this is a different kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Billy mutters. “You’re gonna be safer there than you are here.”

“Supposedly,” Max huffs. “You know Neil’s going to be pissed when he finds out. What if he comes after us?”

“I won’t let him,” Billy declares, meaning every word.

“Could you really stop him?”

Billy curls a little tighter in an effort to ease the pain spreading through his stomach. It’s beginning to be more than a nuisance but he’s doing his best not to be distracted. Max needs him right now. This is the last time he’ll ever be an older brother. That’s more important, that’s the thing he needs to devote his attention to. He never asked for the job and he hasn’t been exceptional at it, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to soothe his soon to be ex-sister’s worries with her small hand shaking ever so slightly on his shoulder.

He cranes his neck back to meet her eye and flashes a winning grin he hopes looks less forced than it feels.

”Let’s put it this way, he’d have to kill me to get to you.”

Instead of being reassured, Max looks spooked.

“I really thought he was going to, you know. That night.”

Ah, that night. Billy knows which. He was feeling pretty ballsy, feeling strong and bold after a good workout and a couple of beers. When Neil got in his shit that night, for the very first time, Billy threw a punch.

He remembers thinking that things would go in his favor if he could just get Neil to the ground. That’s the last thing he remembers, actually. Thinking that. And maybe it really would’ve gone in his favor if he’d gotten Neil down. But he didn’t.

Billy doesn’t actually remember what happened. But it definitely wasn’t that.

“He wouldn’t really go that far, Max. Neil talks a big game, but I’m all he’s got and he knows it.”

Max doesn’t seem convinced in the least.

“I think that’s what made Mom decide we had to go,” she says quietly. “That night.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Billy says, tone sharp.

Max glowers, clearly disagreeing. Billy matches her stare.

“…I wonder if there will be other kids my age,” Max murmurs eventually, changing the subject.

Evidently neither of them want to argue their remaining time together away.

If there are kids her age, they’ll be girls, like Neil always wanted. No boys over twelve permitted stay. Billy shifts his head back, eyes sliding from Max and off to the wall. He’s starting to feel Tuesday night’s painful sort of nausea. Like his guts are going through a meat grinder.

“It’ll suck if I’m just surrounded by adults the whole time. However long that’s gonna be…Mom wouldn’t say.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know yet, Max.”

“Maybe not. She’s trying to keep her cool but I can tell she’s nervous. Even more than me and I can’t let on that I’m nervous at all, not to Mom, because then she’ll really flip her lid. She tried so hard to convince me everything will be okay at the shelter. She’ll feel like a failure if she knows I’m scared and Neil’s already made her feel a failure over and over. I won’t do it too.”

This is the last conversation they’re ever going to have. This is the last time they’re ever going to talk to each other. Max is on the precipice of another massive move to somewhere new. All the secrecy and uncertainties surrounding it make it all the more of a transition and Billy’s last job as her older brother is this conversation. He’s trying to focus on it, on her, but the pain in his stomach is growing more insistent.

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?”

Billy curls his fingers in the bedsheets and silently begs for it not to get any worse. Not now. Max is leaving, Susan is leaving, fuck it— his fucking family is leaving and he can’t do this right now.

“…uh…yeah. I’m gonna get out of this Hawkins dump as soon as I can. And I bet you and your mom will find somewhere for yourselves better than this dump too, without Neil steering the wheel…how about, five years from now, we meet up in Cali? At least you and me, Sue can come too if she wants.”

Billy doesn’t think she would. Things have been better between him and his stepmother, yeah, but. He knows what he is. And Max— Max too, really. She thinks she’ll want to see him again now. Things have been better and maybe there’s even a part of her that still thinks of him as her cool big brother, but when she gets some distance, she’ll get some perspective and neither of them will want anything to do with him anymore. By then he’ll just be one more ugly part of an ugly life, the wayward offspring of the enemy.

By then he’ll be nothing but a reminder and no one wants reminders.

Max hums thoughtfully. “Yeah. We could do that, right? I always wanted to go back to San Diego…”

She squeezes his shoulder and Billy shuts his eyes. It’s getting harder to ignore how awful he feels. His whole body sagging with the overall illness laying him low. The torrent of nausea washing over him even though he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything left to puke up. The vengeful reprisal of the invisible knife, carving into his guts with a silent wrath.

“…does that sound good? …Billy?”

“What?” He blinks rapidly.

“The zoo, sick brain.” She huffs a little and gives his shoulder another squeeze. “In five years, let’s meet up at the zoo. In the gift shop where you stole the lion keychain.”

“Hey, you remember that.”

“You stole a gag giraffe toy for me too, the squishy one. When you squeeze it, the eyes pop out.”

“Pfft, yeah…I said, ‘look, it’s your mom’ and slipped it in your backpack.”

“I still have that giraffe, Billy,” she continues, voice determined. “I’m bringing it with me. I’ll look at it every day so I don’t forget our meeting place.”

Billy doesn’t really feel like talking anymore. He just wants to shove his head under the pillow and sleep it off, sleep it out. Wake up when his stomach isn’t being stabbed and his heart isn’t being strangled.

It’s a shining fantasy, that’s all. A fuzzy, glowing thing that will never happen. He’s just playing along for Max’s sake.

“What day, Max?”

“I was thinking the Fourth of July. You dad always made sure the fourth was the biggest Hargrove household holiday.” Billy can hear her roll her eyes. “Neither of us will ever forget that date, not even in five years.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Sounds good. We’ll meet again at the San Diego Zoo gift shop in five years, on the fourth.”

“Pinky swear?”

Moving makes the pain worse. Any movements, even small ones.

“Nah. My hands are all sweaty and contagious, you don’t wanna touch ‘em.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m not getting you sick, Max,” Billy states firmly. “You’ve got enough going on.”

There is a pregnant pause.

“I really do,” she says eventually, her tone wary. “I hate Neil. But leaving him means leaving you and my friends, and going somewhere with a bunch of total strangers who have their own Neils who might come after us.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“It could! Stranger things have happened! Stranger things happen all the time!”

Max smacks her hands together and does something with her arms that shifts her weight and in turn, shifts the mattress. The minute movement multiplies the knives and the stabs, and Billy agonizes, grinding his molars against a hiss as those knives in his gut twist so hard he’s already seeing fireworks.

“What’s wrong?”

It hurts so bad. This isn’t the flu. Billy doesn’t know what it is, but it’s definitely not the flu.

“Billy?”

Christ, is he dying?

“Hey.” The back of Max’s hand rests against his cheek, smaller and warmer than her mother’s was, fabric bandaid under her knuckles now protecting that scab she wouldn’t stop picking at. “Geez, you’re burning up. Are you dying?”

He’d gibe back at her if he wasn’t seriously evaluating this possibility. He momentarily considers telling her that he is, that it’s so fucking bad it’s like knives. Then he blinks and Susan’s here, half-in-half-out, one foot over the threshold of his bedroom, the other still in the hallway.

“Time to go, Max.”

Max inhales sharply above his ear. Billy composes himself. He clears his throat and does his best to keep his voice steady.

“You heard her,” he mutters. “Get your ass outta here, lemme sleep this off.”

Abruptly, Max’s weight flops over his torso, arms squeezing. She’s hugging him. She’s hugging him and the pain is so bad it’s blinding. Billy traps a scream between his teeth, burns with shame as the tears spring to his eyes. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to push her off. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to hug her back.

“Germs,” he manages to grate out, hoping it’s enough.

Max’s arms unlatch and she climbs down from his bed. Billy’s head spins with reeling pain and nausea as she trots across his floor for the final time. She stands at her mother’s side, no longer his responsibility.

“Bye, Billy.” Max’s lips twitch in a sad smile, her hand raised in a halfhearted wave.

Susan steps aside to let her through and lingers for a heartbeat, frowning at him.

“I hope you feel better, Billy…”

“Your tea was bitter,” he gripes even though he hasn’t taken a single sip.

Susan’s eyes sharpen. She sees something, Billy isn’t sure what. Her lips part but he speaks first.

“Please get out.”

So he can cry. So he can scream. It hurts, he hurts. His stomach, his heart. It’s horrible, he’s horrible.

Susan bobs her head and obliges, making herself scarce. Billy hangs onto the sound of steps getting further away. He doesn’t let the tears fall until he hears the door close and then he’s smashing his face into his pillow to smother his sobs in cotton stuffing. Forces himself to stop because crying’s making it worse, much worse, his shoulders are hitching and moving is anguish.

Something is so very wrong.

Billy can’t even think around its wrongness. Last night the pain was sharpest in his side but right now it feels like his whole stomach is burning. He shifts even slightly and his stomach burns with white-hot pain but he’s so cold everywhere else.

Billy lies still and curled and quiet, impatiently waiting for it to get better. If he doesn’t move, it should get better. Curling like this helped last night and then this morning, the pain went away.

Will it go away again if he just keeps waiting?

He’s already waited so long.

Will it come back even worse?

Could it get worse?

That’s a stupid question, everything can get worse. If there is anything Billy has learned in his life, it’s that there’s no real rock bottom. It can always get worse.

That shove will turn into a slap. That slap will turn into a punch. That punch will multiply into many punches. The opposite arm will lock around your throat so those punches can keep pummeling the breath right out of you and the night you think you’re gonna punch back—

No such thing as bad as bad gets, no limits, maybe if he really is dying, it’s for the best. Maybe dying is the best goddamn thing that can happen to you in a world where invisible knives slicing into you and screams shriveling like dead leaves—

(everyone leaves, doesn’t matter if it’s autumn)

—behind your chattering teeth could very well be the least of your suffering. It hurts so bad he can barely breathe.

Billy forces himself out of bed anyway. He always gets up even when he doesn’t want to, but today he’s outstandingly bad at it. His organs must be pureed from all the silent stabs and his legs buckle under him. His hands fly out when he falters, ceramic mug knocked off his nightstand.

When the tea spills on him, it’s cold and Billy’s confused because it’s supposed to be hot tea. Then he’s confused at his own confusion because no fucking shit it’s cold now, it’s been out for hours.

How many hours?

When did Susan put the kettle on?

How long has Susan been gone, Max in tow?

It feels like an eternity but Neil isn’t home yet, so Billy knows that’s not true. He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’d know if Neil was home. Neil makes his presence known. Neil doesn’t set foot in this house without immediately staking claim to everyone’s attention.

Everyone?

There is no everyone anymore. Just Billy and Neil now. Billy got out of bed with the intention of finding his keys. Driving himself to the hospital. Because it’s been hours, how many he isn’t sure, but enough of them to mean he needs to go to the hospital. Go to the zoo?

No, he— he can’t go to the hospital.

He could make himself get up. Demons slice their claws through his stomach with every chill that wracks his frame and garble their guttural taunts right into his ears but he could get up. He could but he won’t, he knows better.

If Billy goes to the hospital, they’re going to call Neil. It’s a small town. Someone will know who he is even if he pretends to be too out of it to say. Someone will know he belongs to Neil and then Neil will be called. Then Neil will find out even sooner that he’s been left, and he’ll get mad, and Billy doesn’t know what he’ll do with the anger but it won’t be good.

Max and Sue need as much time as they can get, as much distance between him and his dad as possible before he finds out. He’s going to find out but they got a head-start and Billy won’t sabotage that. It’s better for him too, in case Neil decides to turn the rage his way. Neil takes responsibility for jack shit, he might even decide it’s Billy’s fault they're gone, because he got left behind to blame.

Billy could make himself get up but he won’t. He just pulls the comforter off the bed and over himself on the floor. It’s so bad he could writhe but that too, would make it worse. He’s waiting to watch a demon claw its way out of his stomach, like that scene in that one movie he watched with Max.

It wasn’t the last movie he watched with Max. Billy doesn’t remember the last movie he watched with Max, the last movie he’ll ever watch with Max. He’s never going to see her again. If he dies here on the carpet, he supposes he’ll never see anyone again.

Crying about it won’t help. Crying doesn’t solve anything.

Something is making a horrible yowling sound. There’s a stray cat in the neighborhood, it must be right outside his bedroom window. Or else it got inside somehow, it sounds so close. Its cries sound so wretchedly human.

Billy isn’t a brother anymore, he has demons twisting their pitchforks in his stomach, he’s too cold to catch his breath, and his cheeks are very wet. He doesn’t have any time or energy to chase around a stray cat, to stop it from making a mess.

Billy does not die on the floor. When his father comes home at first his yells are angry and then his yells are fearful. He calls an ambulance and cradles Billy close until it comes.

Billy loses himself in the whirlwind of activity that follows. He gets poked and prodded and jabbed, and someone blessedly takes his pain away but Billy doesn’t know who because everyone’s faces blur until they all look the same. He has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration.

Dehydration, that’s deja vu. But it’s not Susan talking about dehydration this time even though he wishes it was. He wishes it was?

Yes. No. She needed to get out. Max needed to get out. Billy has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration, and his fever’s so high they might as well bake cookies on him and— and if his mother were here, she would like that one, yeah, he definitely got his dry wit from her. Sardonic snark is right up Mom’s alley. But she had to get out too, everyone has to get out.

Except Billy. He’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, apparently he needs surgery, but he doesn’t need to escape. One day he will, but he doesn’t need to. It’s not a necessity. No matter what Max saw That Night he doesn’t remember, Neil would never kill him.

Neil would never, ever kill him. Billy is his only legacy. Piss poor legacy from Neil’s standpoint, sure, he’ll never let him forget it. But nonetheless, it’s the only one he’s got. Billy may blow his brains out when he gets bored of his twenties (if he even makes it that far) just to spite the bastard because he doesn’t want to be his good-for-nothing piece of shit legacy, he never asked for that.

But now is not the time to begrudge all he didn’t ask for, now is the time to count backwards.

“Dad?” Billy calls into the quiet nighttime of the room, blinking fuzzily at the figure slumped in the chair beside his bed. His throat feels like sandpaper, he swallows with an effort and tries again. “Dad?”

Neil stirs this time, eyes brightening, alert on Billy. “I’m here. Do you need something?”

Billy pauses. “M’sick, right?”

“Sure as shit you’re sick,” Neil huffs, eyes narrowing. “Almost lost all three of you in the same day.”

The words bounce around Billy’s skull.

“Susan left me,” Neil continues slowly, anger shimmering like hot coals underneath the veil of weariness. “All her stuff is gone, she took Max too. I don’t expect you knew anything about that?”

“No, sir,” Billy denies. “I thought they went shopping.”

“No. They certainly didn’t go shopping. They cleared out and left us behind. No explanation, no letter, not even a note.”

So it’s ‘us’ now, huh?

Billy widens his eyes, does his best to seem surprised as he attempts to sit up. Then he really is surprised, first at how awful of an idea that is, and then at realizing the blanket covering his hospital bed is one from home. One of Neil’s, fleecy and worn.

“Grabbed a few things from home. Needed something to do to keep my mind busy. You were on the operating table twice as long as they told me you were gonna be, Bill. Scared the hell out of me.”

“…why?”

“I’m told your appendix ruptured before they opened you up and that complicated things…you’re gonna be here for a little while, bud.” Neil gently rubs his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

He answered the wrong question. Billy wasn’t asking why it took longer, he was asking why Neil was scared. But he doesn’t correct him. He swallows and hopes Max and Susan are safe. He wonders just what time they got to wherever they were going. Susan never shared the location or ever alluded to the distance from Hawkins. He hopes there were no mishaps along the way, no flat tires or fender-benders, or murderous traffic in backed up lanes.

“Not a baby,” he mutters. “Not gonna bitch about a stupid stomachache.”

At that, his father raises a brow. He gives a shake of the head and his hand leaves Billy’s shoulder. He makes a low noise in his throat that almost sounds like approval and covers Billy’s forehead with his hand. The heel of his palm is calloused and Billy knows he’s been hitting the bottle when the unmistakable scent of warm beer wafts over his nostrils.

“Well, it’s just us now, tough guy. You need to speak up if something’s really wrong, capeesh?”

He said it again. Us. They’re an us once more. Billy tiredly lifts his hand, bracing his elbow on the mattress to give his father’s forearm a squeeze.

“Yes, sir.”

#my fic tag #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #susan hargrove #max mayfield #anonymoose #i hope ur down w the combo #if not i'm open to writing smth else but pls don't be rude

7 notes · View notes

factual-fantasy · 3 years

Text

I got 25 asks that took me WAY too long to reply to! :}

I have two top favorite episodes, the cone snail episode and the beluga whales episode.

When it comes to my favorite part of both episodes..?

..Not happy parts...

I have absolutely no idea what you just suggested.

(Referring to this post)

Thank you! That was the intention. :} I was worried that their faces all looked weird..

You want to learn more? Man.. maybe I should post that headcannon draft..

Yeah haha, this blog has taken quite the U-turn hasn’t it? I’m just glad everyone seems okay with it so far. <:} I’m excited for season 5 also! I hope it comes out soon! :D

THANK YOU, I WILL CHERISH THIS LOVE YOU HAVE GIVEN ME FOREVER

Yes and no.

Does he think of his crew as children? Absolutely not. They are all fully grown, intelligent and capable adults, and he darn well treats them like it.

But you bet that if one of them is in danger or is frightened, he’s dropping everything he’s doing and rushing to their aid as if they’re his cub that just wondered out onto the highway.

ME TOO! I always felt like he had this fatherly vibe to him with some professionalism sprinkled on top. Like he’s always looking out for his team because he cares for them and worries about them, but its kind of disguised as him just doing his job as the Captain.

I plan to draw more Protective Barnacles because its my jam, so don’t worry! That side of you will have some more fuel soon XD. And thank you for all the compliments! :}

Daww thank you, it twaz nothin. I’m just glad that people want to see my art.

Well, taking everyone into consideration, the tallest is Captain Barnacles, and the shortest is Tomminow. (This little guy 👇)

The Vegimals aside though? Peso is the shortest.

(And thank you! I’m glad :})

Honestly? Awful. I feel like absolute garbage, I just hope this will all finally go away soon.

Not really no, and no thanks on the cookies, I shouldn’t eat anything until I get super hungry because everything gives me stomachaches.. But a hug would sure be nice right about now.

I can give you a link to their wiki pages if that’ll help, I’m not really good with my words and you can learn everything you need to know about them there. <:}

Captain Barnacles (The polar bear guy)

Kwazii (The orange pirate cat guy)

Peso (The bby Penguin doktor)

Shellington (Tall Otter boi)

Dashi (Doge girl with skirt)

Professor Inkling (Fancy squik)

Tweak (Green bunny country gal chick)

The Vegimals (Little veggie dudes)

All the Gups (Metal fishes)

The Octopod (Momma metal squik)

Whos the youngest Octonaut? Well, if we’re not including the Vegimals, I’d say its probably Peso. And the oldest is most likely Professor Inkling.

Does anyone have claustrophobia? Yes! Captain Barnacles canonically does. He got trapped in a deep hole in some icy caves as a cub, since then he’s been afraid of tight and closed in spaces. I have extended on that fact and thought of many different scenarios relating to the aftermath of the Octonauts movie, but you know.. still not confident in all this Octonauts stuff so I haven’t posted my headcannons yet. <:/

Novelas translated into English means Soap Opera.

You think so? I feel like that’s not Kwazii’s thing, he’d probably like horror movies and action filled movies. But Peso probably would like them not gonna lie, him and Dashi would probably watch them together.

Well, in my draft post I’ve got two headcannons for her so far.

Tweak likes sleeping in the launch bay for the #1 reason that she can hear the water sloshing around in the bay. Which mimics the sound the water in the swamp used to make when she lived there with her Dad.

Tweak gets bad migraines when she’s sick, so the other Octonauts have to do a lot to accommodate her. Because the beds in the med bay aren’t that soft, she prefers to sleep in her room when she’s sick. But then the usually comforting sounds of the water in the launch bay become pain inducing. So the launch bay is emptied of all its water, the lights are shut off and, unless its an emergency, no one is allowed in the launch bay until she recovers.

I looked it up, and its true.

KWAZII WAS A GIRL IN THE BOOKS?? THEN WHY IS HE A BOY IN THE SHOW?? WHY DID THEY CHANGE THAT?? WH??? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like this Kwazii more than I would any other version of him, but still, WHY’D THEY CHANGE THAT?? IM GLAD THEY DID BUT WHY??

Hmm.. let me think...

Captain Barnacles most likely doesn’t ever have uninterrupted free time, and even when he does, he probably still prefers to be up in HQ where anyone can find him if they need him. But lets say for the sake of it that he has some free time and he takes it. He’d probably either want to play his accordion, or want to read a book.

I feel like there’s a lot of different things Kwazii likes to do in his spare time, but goofing around in the Gup-B is probably his favorite.

Peso probably likes to do puzzles and play his xylophone.

Dashi probably reads books while listening to music. How she does both of these things at the same time I have no idea.

Tweak probably plays video games.

Professor Inkling and Shellington both probably read books in their free time.

I’m not too sure what the Vegimals would do in their free time though..

Oh yes, indeed it does.

Before becoming the Captain of the Octonauts, Barnacles had to ask himself, “Am I really ready to be their leader?” Can he handle managing a team of that size? Can he react to situations fast enough and make the right choices? He thought it through and believed that yes. He was ready.

But he wasn’t. He wasn't prepared for that gut wrenching anxiety when one crew member goes missing. He wasn't prepared for the crippling heat that most everywhere else has compared to his home. He wasn't prepared to become so attached to his crew that the thought of something happening to them keeps him awake for nights in a row. He wasn’t prepared for that overwhelming nausea of missing home and his sister.

There was a lot he didn’t know. They’d all turn to him when something went wrong and ask if everything's going to be okay. He’d say “don’t worry, its all going to be okay.” but he’s just as unsure as everyone else.

Now don't get me wrong, he’s not this completely hopeless and unexperienced Captain that bit off more than he could chew, no. There’s just somethings he didn’t think about before becoming Captain of the Octonauts.

Now usually he can really keep himself composed almost always. He’s very level headed and very good at thinking his way through things, But sometimes? He just.. needs a break. He usually cant get a break because he’s the Captain and always needs to be alert, so everyone else that sees it usually tries to help.

Some crew members, like the Vegimals and Kwazii, have a habit of following the Captain around when they see that he’s tired to keep an eye on him. Others like Shellington and Dashi tend to give him space and keep things quiet for him. Some crew members, like Peso and Tweak tend to clean up around the place to take some weight off the Captains shoulders, they all help him out in some way.

Professor Inkling will sometimes find an excuse to pull him aside to have some tea with him. They’ll sit and talk for a bit but then he’s back up on his feet and back to work. This poor bear..

..hold on.. was this a drawing suggestion?

Dashi and Tweak would probably hang out in Dashi’s room and goof around. Not sure what they’d do.. maybe read, talk, play games or.. idk pillow fights? I don’t know what girls do on a girls night.

As for everyone else? I also am not sure, I don’t know what all those characters with all their clashing personalities would do on a boys night. Maybe they would all watch a movie? All attempt bake something obnoxious together? They seem like the kind of characters that would do that.

I’ve never been to a girls night or a guys night, so I don't really have much of a base to go off of.. but both groups would probably get together and do something they’d all enjoy. Guys maybe a funny movie, and the girls just talking and reading books? <:D

For real that’d be hilarious. Imagine if their voices were deep and gruff too but they just make them sound high pitched for fun?

Dude that’d be so funny. Like Kwazii’s up to his shenanigans again blabbering on about some sea monster or what have you, and Tunip out of nowhere just goes,

“Kwazii legit stop, we all know that you’re just talking about some ordinary sea creature that pirates interpreted as a sea monster.“

The whole crew gon be like

If this game existed in their world and they all played it.....

Captain Barnacles would make it through a pacifist run and would be satisfied. He’s some kind of weirdo who doesn’t think of characters as real people and doesn’t obsess over them and cry about them. Overall he thinks the game is pretty neat, but probably not his type of game.

Kwazii would want to test his skills by attempting a genocide, but his heart of gold would get in the way and he wouldn’t be able to complete it. He’d feel terrible for killing goat mom, reset and go hard pacifist next round. Overall he thinks the game is awesome.

Peso would want to talk to every character so they’d all be included in the story. He’d go full pacifist and cry over the story and its characters. Overall 10/10 for him.

Dashi would probably cry over the game a lot and would never attempt a genocide run because the characters are now her family.

Shellington would hate the fighting parts so would delay those bits by walking around and talking to characters over and over again.

Tweak would go through a neutral run because she sometimes accidently kills weaker monsters. Overall she loves the story and its characters, 10/10 would play again.

Professor Inkling would become invested in the story I bet. Complimenting the story arcs for the characters and its creative game play. But I feel like he’d only play it once and probably wouldn’t beat it, but would have fun with it none the less.

Thank you!!!♡♡♡ Man, I never expected such a positive response to switching to Octonauts, I cant believe everyone is so excited about it! I’m so glad you like my Octonauts art, that really makes me feel better and like what I’m drawing is worth while. ɷ◡ɷ

Aww I’m glad! And oh yeah, the animals at the end were always scary. Remember the Boo the spookfish?

Boo was a cute little googly eyed fishy boi who was just so sweet and somft until the creATURE REPORT AND I-

THAT’S MY QUE TO YEET THE COMPUTER

Dawww thank you!! I tried. <:}

#octonauts #my response #octonauts headcannons #octonauts spoilers

141 notes · View notes

soukokuwu · 4 years

Note

Ohhhh cool!! if you can could you do some hcs with nikolai and sigma having a crush on the same girl who happens to be another member of DOA, please? i really don’t know how to make requests, but thank you anyway 🥺

➤ aww omg don’t worry you did great <3 this is my first go at both of them so i hope you like these, my sweet anony ^.^

➤ characters: nikolai, sigma

having a crush on the same doa girl

when he first realises he likes you, he tries to pry himself away from you. he doesn’t want to be tied down by anything, the worst of all being an attachment to someone — it’s known to be ruthless and unforgiving at times. or at least, that’s what he hears. so he’d rather keep his status as a free man, bound by nothing, especially not a woman.

oh, but everything changes once he realises that sigma actually likes you too. it’s one thing for nikolai to choose not to have you, but to envision you being with someone else, let alone another member of the doa? to have to possibly see you with your arms around sigma everyday? to watch as you give affections to someone that’s not him? no. nikolai’s blood is boiling just at the mere thought of it.

occasionally initiates squabbles with sigma because he keeps asking him to back away and sigma just never relents.

so he fights for your affection. and nikolai isn’t one to be bound by rules or boundaries either. as long as he sees it can help in his end goal, he’ll do it. basically, he won’t play fair. he’s the type to drag out your afternoon date knowing you have a dinner date with sigma. or purposely feed sigma soemthing bad or spicy just to make sure he comes down with a stomachache so terrible that he ends up cancelling on you.

you’re not stupid, obviously. if not why’d you be in the doa? you know nikolai is playing dirty tricks to ruin sigma’s time with you, so you get a one-up on him by initiating to spend time with sigma while he recovers. you’d hate for it to be unfair to one of them after all. and nikolai absolutely hates it when you do this, because you end up being all sweet to sigma. so he stops with his pranks. you’ve such a brilliant mind, they’ll backfire no matter how good they are.

tries to charm you with so many theatrics but it never turns out well. and he should’ve known. you’re so observant, you know his exaggerations are always a facade. and you don’t appreciate ingenuity. so nikolai slowly learns to break his walls down around you and only you, letting you in, albeit very slowly. but this you see, and this you are grateful for.

once he finds that that is what it takes to curry your favour, he keeps at it. besides, he has sigma’s charm to compete with and no matter how he hates admitting it, it’s no small feat to beat.

he doesn’t know what it is exactly, but there’s an attraction he feels toward you. and he’s heard a lot about ‘love’ and how it makes people feel alive. maybe, just maybe, if he can be in love with you, would that give him a reason to live?

when he finds out that nikolai has the hots for you too? eye roll. it’s going to be troublesome. but sigma thinks you have to be worth it. he feels a desire that he cannot find in anything — anyone — else. even if nikolai declares war, sigma would go for it. besides, he knows how to appease people. perhaps you’d be more drawn toward him.

unlike nikolai, sigma knows the importance of appealing to the audience. gogol may have the theatrics but sigma has a genuine side that just comes out easier. he knows you, and doesn’t let his feelings consume him. even when he is envious as all hell when he sees nikolai putting his arms around you, he controls himself. he doesn’t lash out or say a thing. besides, what he does know is that if you really fall for nikolai, then he’d want you to be happy with him.

occasionally entertains nikolai’s gibberish about asking him to back off because he needs to let out some steam at the man from all the pda he has had to endure seeing.

you see that sigma’s giving you a fair chance to decide who you actually see a future with, and you appreciate it immensely. and so sigma will always put your feelings first, even if that meant giving in to nikolai sometimes. he knows how much you hate seeing them bicker for days on end. he just waves the white flag, for you.

but even with his people and social skills, he can’t get one past you. you’re insightful, and you know his confidence is just a bravado. something that he and nikolai have in common, a mask. though sigma’s is more metaphorical. you hate how doesn’t share his real feelings and you confess to feeling a distance from him that is more apparent than that with gogol.

so sigma works on it, works on letting you inside his head, where all the ugly words lie and consume him from the inside out. he grows to love your comforting words, of course. nobody else can have that effect on him after all. and he’ll continue to keep pursuing you, because he believes fully now that a desire to live exists within you.

172 notes · View notes

weirdsideblog · 3 years

Text

Untitled Vore Story Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Still not st*rker, still for @whisperingphantasm

Peter trusted Tony. Of course he trusted Tony. He’d jumped off buildings with empty web cartridges because Tony said he’d catch him, and he always did. If he said this was safe, it must be.

So why was he still so scared?

Well. Peter looked around. Where should he start?

He had settled himself against the wall of Tony’s stomach, which moved disconcertingly like it was trying to push him farther along, but it was nice to have the contact anyway. Otherwise he just felt lost. He felt a bit lost anyway, thinking of how small he was. There was no way Tony looked any different from the outside, so to anyone who saw them, it wasn’t them at all; Peter didn’t exist anymore, as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

Which would really be the case, he thought uncomfortably, if Tony hadn’t apparently been blessed with digestion-stopping powers or whatever was keeping him alive right now. He touched the slimy wall, because Tony, it was Tony, who wouldn’t hurt him. Peter wanted to talk to him, just to get some kind of response again, but Tony had his hands full thinking of how to get them out of the trunk of a car, so he was quiet.

...

He felt when Tony made his escape. (Their escape?) It was all a little mixed up. At any rate, he was thrown around quite a bit before he managed to stick himself somewhere, undoubtedly quite the stomachache now.

“You’re safe, kid.” That was Tony’s voice, loud but strangely muffled above him.

“Mr. Stark!” It was so good to hear from him for real, Peter wanted to jump into his arms right then and never let go.

“You’re safe, I promise you you’re safe. Pete, I’m so sorry, I should have warned you before.”

“I’m okay.” Peter felt weak with relief all over again. It was Tony, he was right there talking to him and telling him he was safe, and Peter wasn’t forgotten.

“I’m taking you back to the tower, and then I know exactly how to reverse their shrink ray.”

“Thanks.” Peter liked the way he said that. Taking him back, because he was a separate entity and Tony was just carrying him.

“You’re safe with me.”

The wall pushed in on him and Peter jumped before he realized what it was, Tony’s hand rubbing at him from outside. That was a weird thought. Peter’s own stomach flopped, and he wondered what it would feel like to have a whole other person in there. He’d just worry about them the whole time, probably.

“You’ll be back to normal before you know it,” said Tony, walking now, by the feel of it.

It was certainly something for Peter to know that and be carried along with him with absolutely no say in the matter. But if he could trust Tony not to digest him, then surely he could trust him not to kidnap him.

“Sorry about this, too. Usually I could undo the shrinking myself, but since it wasn’t me who did it, we’ll have to use some tech of our own.”

“Wait, you can shrink people?”

“Uh-huh.”

Peter pondered the implications of that for a second. “So you could just eat me any time you wanted and I never knew?”

“It’s not something I usually go around telling people, for obvious reasons, but I should have let you know, just in case of something like this.”

“No that, uh, that makes sense, I’d probably be freaked out,” said Peter. “I am freaked out, but you know what I mean.”

“You’re taking it well.”

“Really?”

“You’re calm, at least.”

“Well you said it’s safe.”

Tony’s heart sped up momentarily. “That I did.”

…

It was definitely weird to be in the lab but not be, well, in the lab. Sort of. All that stuff about who was where doing what was still confusing.

“Alright, reverse shrink ray,” said Tony. “Shouldn’t take long to put together at all, and then you’re free.”

“O-oh?”Peter had personally expected to be set free as soon as they got back, and his heart lurched a bit.

“Until I have a way to undo it, you’re safer like this. I don’t need you falling off a tabletop or getting chased by a spider or something.”

“Oh.” Peter hadn’t thought about spiders. Still, a shiver ran down his spine at Tony just deciding how long to keep him.

“You good with that?”

He could have said no. He almost did, just to see what Tony would do, but logically, he knew he was safer where he was. And really, he had no great desire to be alone at this vulnerable size, even if the alternative was incredibly weird. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” There was a strange thump as Tony patted him. “I’ll be quick.”

Peter leaned against him, safe from falling or getting lost or huge spiders, and a whole lot of other things, too. It was almost comforting when he thought of it that way. Very secure, at least. Really, completely surrounded by Tony, Peter didn’t imagine he could get much safer.

“It’s a little bit nice.”

“What?”

“Uh.” Peter hadn’t realized he’d said that loud enough for Tony to hear. “I mean, it’s not completely terrible.”

Tony chuckled around him. “I’m flattered.”

“I don’t wanna do this again,” Peter added quickly.

“I doubt we’ll have to.”

“Good. I’m going to shower in bleach as soon as you let me out of here.”

“You do that.”

…

Being coughed up was about as pleasant as being swallowed, with the only bonus being that at least he was about to be free. Thankfully, it only lasted a few seconds, and then Peter was squinting in the light, held gently in Tony’s hand once again. The air was beautifully fresh and clean and not humid, but it was cold, and he shivered.

“You alright?” Tony asked, now leaning over him.

Even though he’d just been inside him, Peter had forgotten how big the man really was. Tony would never hurt him, but the sight of such a giant looming over him made him still made Peter feel a bit like running away. He gave him a thumbs up anyway.

“I’ll bet you don’t want to stay tiny any longer than you have to.” Tony was already setting him down. “Hold still.”

Peter braced himself, there was a small noise, a strange weightless sensation around his whole body, and then he was sitting on the floor opposite Tony, back to his regular size. The light had either dimmed or he had gotten more used to it, because he could remove his hand from his face and actually get a good look at Tony, who was watching him with an expression he couldn’t read.

“Hi,” said Peter.

“Hi yourself.”

Peter made the mistake of looking at Tony’s middle, and his own insides swooped.

“You’re safe, remember?”

“Yeah.” Peter couldn’t stop staring. That was hard to get his head around, that he’d actually… “Yeah, that’s good.” He laughed slightly at the utter strangeness of the whole situation, scooting closer to Tony out of whatever instinct it was that always told him his mentor would make it better. “Can I just, like-“

Tony wrapped an arm around him (very kindly, considering how gross he was at the moment) and Peter melted into him. He might have technically been safer a minute ago, but hugs felt safer.

“Good?” said Tony, and Peter thought he might have sounded just the tiniest bit amused.

“Mm.” He pushed his face into his mentor’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry about all of that.”

“I mean, you didn’t have a lot of choice.” Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist and held on. “Can we not do that again?”

“Hopefully.”

That wasn’t the most positive answer, but Peter would take it. Impulsively, he put a hand over Tony’s stomach.

“That’s weird, kid.”

“You wanna talk about weird?”

Tony laughed.

“Not bad weird,” said Peter a little too quickly, and now Tony was probably going to think he was weird. “Just weird weird.”

“You continue to flatter me.”

“Well it’s a little bit cool. I don’t wanna do it again, but it was like, you.”

Tony’s heart sped up exponentially, and his arms tightened around Peter. It did have to be a pretty good feeling, Peter thought, knowing someone felt that safe with you. He might as well go all the way with that; few people were able to make Iron Man melt, and Peter took a bit of pride in being one of them.

“I mean, it was really scary and I was pretty sure I was gonna die at first, and I never, ever want to do it again, but then it was okay because…” He struggled to explain himself as non-awkwardly as possible, because even if he was going straight for Tony’s heart he still had some dignity. “Because if anything was going to get me it would have to be you, and you said you wouldn’t, so it had to be pretty safe, right?”

As predicted, Tony’s heart rate was off the charts, and he snuggled (he’d hate it if he knew Peter chose that word) Peter close. “What am I going to do with you, kid?

“Let me take a shower now?”

Tony laughed. “Good plan. I may need one too after-” He gestured to Peter’s still-wet hair and clothes.

“Sorry.”

“It comes with the territory. People get clingy,” said Tony. “Besides, this time I’d say I deserve it.”

Thanks for reading, lovely friends! (One more time, not st*rker, surely everybody knows that)

#v.ore #v/ore #avengers-vore #avengers vore #marvel vore #soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #protective vore

96 notes · View notes