#and with the word oversharing what i mean is like oversharing of trauma. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spookysteddie · 4 months

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The Very First Date

Modern!Steve Harrington x college!fem!reader

Part two to "lemon drop martini" ... Read part one here

18+ MINORS DNI

desc: you finally call Steve for that first date. And it goes better than you imagined

cw: alcohol mention (reader is not in the slightest drunk), slight Dom!Steve, cocky!Steve begging, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie. (let mw know if I missed anything)

wc: 2.8k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoy this! based off of this ask who asked me for a part two a while ago (I am so sorry). My writers block has lifted after like a year and here we are! So expect more fics soon!

...

Three days.

You’d waited three days before calling the number on the napkin.

Well that’s a lie. You actually called the number the next day (after eating a greasy meal, drinking a shit ton of water, and downing some aspirin… nothing like a hangover) from your roommate Alixs phone. But the second he answered, you hung up very fast.

Alix, of course, called you a little baby back bitch and told you that you needed to call him. That it’d be nice to have some perks around your little college town.

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

To say you were nervous talking on the phone with him would be an understatement, in fact you were shitting myself. Scared he’d be able to hear it in your voice how nervous you were. Or, worse, that he wouldn’t remember you.

Four days ago:

“This is Steve Harrington speaking. How can I help you?”

You took a deep breath, putting a smile on your face in the hopes it’ll translate through the telephone.

“Hi, Steve. I-it’s y/n. From the bar the other night.” You cringe at the slight stutter and the wave in your voice. “You gave me your number on the napkin.”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice, coolness seeping from his voice, “lemon drop martini girl. Of course I remember you, sweetheart.”

You quietly sigh in relief that he remembers.

“Oh good! I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I was a little hung over and then I had to study and take exams. Finals season.” You laugh awkwardly, cursing yourself for rambling and making a fool out of yourself. Alix would be rolling her eyes.

Steve laughs on the other end of the line, “ah yes. I hated finals. Very frustrating. Hence why I dropped out, much to my fathers dislike.”

One thing about you is that you love oversharing. But you love when other people overshare even more. There’s nothing like bonding over a trauma dump.

You giggle into the phone which makes Steve giggle too, the sound mimicking a sweet song. All you want to make him do it again.

“Anyway, sweetheart, I was wondering if you had plans for Friday night?” His tone is cool and relaxed. You could only wish to sound like that.

Your heart pounds in your chest, words failing you for a moment. “Oh! Um, nothing actually.”

“Perfect. Hows ‘bout you and I go on a little date? I know a great place. Kinda fancy. What do you say?”

You could kick your feet like a little girl at the prospect of going out with him. You, also, are tempted to make him wait. To give him just a little bit of a hard time. It was what you'd usually do to the men you like. But there was something in the back of your mind begging you not to.

“I-I would like that, Steve.”

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7. Give you time to study and get ready. Take a nap even.”

…

“I can’t do this. I can’t go. I mean, fuck, I have nothing to wear.”

Nothing to wear was an understatement. You could hardly see the floor of your bedroom, clothes littering it with only a small path for where you keep walking from the mirror to your closet.

Alix sits on your bed, drinking some wine and eating some popcorn. “I liked the black leather. I don’t know why you won’t just wear that one. You look hot in it.”

You slide your hands down the front of the blue, sequence dress you have on. “I just feel like that’s not enough. And isn’t it a little … short for a dress for a nice restaurant?”

Alix shrugs, “I mean, probably but who cares. You look hot.” She sips her wine and says again, “well you look hot in everything.”

You look over at her, “while that’s sweet, he’s going to be here in fifteen minutes and I need a few shots to calm my nerves so help me pick a dress, please.”

She rolls her eyes at my dramatics, downing her wine. “I think you should wear the short black one you wore two weeks ago. Not the leather one, the velvet one. Makes your ass look great. Oh with your Louboutins! You spent a lot of money on them and have worn them once. It’s a sin.”

One thing is for sure, you did spend a lot of money on them, charging them to your dads credit card.

One change and two shots of vodka later, you were walkin down the steps of your condo to an awaiting Steve. He’s in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray jacket. His hair is just as perfect as the last time you saw him. (which was via instagram… gotta do the research right?)

He whistles long and low as you approach, and in a quick stroke of confidence you decide to do a little spin. He claps slowly as you face him and so, you bow. Just slightly so you don’t accidentally flash him. Not the way you want to start this date.

“Well hello to you too, Harrington,” you say as you smirk.

He slips his hand in his pockets, a smirk on his lips that you feel right between your legs. “You look very pretty tonight, sweetheart. I mean you’d look pretty in a potato sac but,” he shrugs. “We should get going.”

You smile and nod at him.

And the bar is clearly in fuckin hell, because him opening the door for you makes you want to jump his bones. But then again, no man has ever opened a door for you so… we can let it slide.

“Such a gentleman.” “Chivalry is not dead sweetheart.”

…

Steve is very thoughtful. Sure, he asked all the usual questions you ask on a first date.

What’s your major?

Do you have any siblings?

What do your parents do for work?

Oh, your dad is in sales? Funny mine too.

He gives you guilt money? Mine too! Look at us

He also, orders you and him a bottle of wine (he has great taste) but lets you order your own meal (again the bar is in fucking hell). The place he takes you to is nice and the food is the best food you’ve had since you left home after summer break.

“So Steve, what made you decide to open up a bar in town?” You eat a spoonful of dessert, eyes never leaving his.

He takes a spoonful of his own dessert. “I was sick of working for everyone else. I knew if I made a unique bar, something you and your friends have never seen, others would want to check it out. Then you’d tell all your friends, who’d tell their friends, etc.” He grins as he talks, keeping eye contact with you.

It felt like a game of ‘who is going to look away first.’ A game you weren’t going to lose. Slowly, you pull the spoon out of your mouth, dipping it back in to your dessert. “Interesting. Great concept if you ask me.”

He huffs a small laugh through his nose, “I’m glad you enjoyed my bar.”

You scrunch your brows, the wine making you bold, “who said I enjoyed it?”

Now he really laughs, “you seemed to really enjoy all those lemon drop martinis. So much so you had a hangover the next day. I tried giving you waters but you threatened to gut me.”

Your jaw hangs open, “fibber.”

“I haven’t been called a fibber since I was a kid,” he smiles. “But yes you did tell me you would gut me. And then you left and I thought I’d never hear from you again.”

You can’t help but feel slightly guilty inside for not calling sooner. Well, you did call sooner but chickened out.

“And here we are.”

“Yes, here we are.”

He seems to think for a moment, sipping his wine (one he ordered that would go well with the dessert. He was right.)

“Wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you through his lashes, tongue rolling down the inside of his cheek.

He wasn't… demanding. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you could turn him down. That he would take you home with a smile on his face. There would be no fuss, no fight, no name calling. No pressure.

And for that very reason, with a smile on your pretty face you answer him, “yours or mine?”

…

You’re not even through the door of his apartment before his mouth is on yours, his large hands on your face. The kiss starts soft, testing the waters and it isn’t very long before you deepen it. Your tongues dance but there is no fight for dominance, you let him win. You want him to win.

His lips trail over your jaw before slowly moving down your neck, gently nipping at your skin.

“Such a pretty girl,” he says in between kisses.

He sucks a bruise into your shoulder, easy to cover up, just in case. You let out a soft moan, hands coming up to tug at his hair.

“You-you’re pretty too.”

You can feel him grin against you, head lifting as his body cages you in, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty. Well besides Eddie but that was mocking.”

You laugh, moving in and kissing him slowly, sweetly, “you are a very pretty boy.”

You can feel his hard dick jerk at the sentiment, and you keep it as a mental note. You know, just in case you need it.

“Fuck, can’t say shit like that.”

“No? Why not?”

“Cause it makes my cock hard. And it’ll be very embarrassing if I cum in my pants. Can't ruin my reputation.” The smirk on his face makes you almost pass out. You swear to God you can feel every word in your core.

“Hmmm, we can’t have that can we?” You push his jacket off his shoulders before running your hands down to the hem of his shirt. “Should take me to bed so we don’t risk you cumin’ early.”

It’s all the permission he needs. His lips are back on yours, his hands under your ass and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands in his hair as he carries you to the bed.

He puts you down gently, his lips never leaving yours. Not for a moment. Not until he pulls away to tug his shirt over his head. You take the moment to take him in, his body lithe and toned. You also can’t help noticing the scars on his side that look a little like bite marks. Bite marks from something that isn’t human, something you make a mental note to ask him about at a later date.

“Sculpted from marble, god damn.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, never wanting to stroke a man's ego.

Steve just grins as he finds the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down slowly down, his knuckles slowly touching your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You shiver under the touch and he notices. You’re quickly learning that Steve notices everything.

It isn’t long before he’s pulling the dress down your body, leaving you in only your underwear. Underwear that barely covers you, a wet patch on full display. If it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed.

“Are you this wet for me?” His tone is mocking and he’s practically cooing at you, “go on. Answer me.”

Your eyes widen. Men have been demanding in the bedroom, plenty of them thinking they’re little tough guys. But none of them get that from you, none of them deserving. You’re not sure why you want to give that to him. You’re not sure what makes him different. And honestly, that is a problem for future you to talk about in therapy.

“Yes,” you reply, voice a little higher than usual. “S’all for you.”

The smirk he gives you makes your heart speed up. “Such a sweet, pretty thing. God, I want to devour you.”

His lips move to your chest, sucking a peaked nipple into his mouth. You can’t help but arch into his mouth, a small moan falling from your lips, his hand coming to play with your neglected breast. And it isn’t long before he swaps sides, his teeth nipping and sucking.

“Please. More.”

He laughs, moving to oblige you and kissing down your sternum before settling between your legs. “May I?”

Him asking makes your heart stutter in your chest, “yes. God yes. Please.”

Steve tugs your underwear down your legs, tossing them to meet the rest of the clothes on the floor. “I think I could get used to praying to me.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer before he licks up your cunt, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. The moan that comes out of you is loud and you’re thankful the windows are closed. “Fuck, Steve!”

He pushes a finger inside of you, curling them to reach the spongy spot inside you. “And you moaning my name is even better. Why don’t you do it again, angel”

He pushes another finger inside you, the burn causing you to grip his hair. “Steve please!”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

He moves his fingers faster, continuing to hit your sweet spot over and over again. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking gently. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, listening to every sweet moan and sigh that comes out of you. He files them away in his brain so he never forgets what drives you crazy.

“Need to… I-I need”

He sucks hard before pulling back, “need what? Go on, use your words.”

You gasp, “to cum. I- please.”

Begging wasn’t what you did for men. If anything, they begged you. Begged you to let them cum.

Steve doesn’t say a word, just grins and uses his free hand to press on your stomach. That is your undoing. “Steve!” You pulse around his fingers, breath getting caught in your chest. You feel warm all over, head emptying as he works you through it.

“That’s it baby. That’s a good girl. Bet that feels so good doesn’t it?”

You try to answer, you really do. But all you can manage is a small nod.

“Gonna let me fuck you?”

Again, you can only manage a nod.

“That’s my girl.”

And before you can even process his words, he flips you over on your stomach, hands pulling your hips in the air. You’re on full display for him. He can see everything. But you couldn't care less, all you want is him inside you.

And you get your wish. He moves slow, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. He’s big and you can feel every inch of him stretching you. It’s a tight fit even with how wet you are.

“Holy shit this pussy is amazing baby. Squeezing me so tight.”

His other hand braces himself by your head before dropping down to his forearms. He’s so close to you now, inside and out, his hips moving slowly so you adjust to him, and his breath fanning across your face.

“F-faster. Faster.” Your hands rake down his back, nails digging into his back, making him hiss.

He snaps his hips faster, grinning down at you. “Just so needy huh?”

You nod feverishly, “yes. F-feels so fucking good.”

He laughs at you now, kisses you. “Such a dirty mouth, baby. Pretty girls aren’t supposed to swear.”

“Says-says you… swear all the time. L-like a sailor.”

He hums. “Dirty mouth for a dirty fuckin girl.”

“That-that’s me.”

He fucks you faster and you feel like coil growing tighter and tighter inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, not wanting him to get too far away. He groans and you can tell he’s close.

“Want… no need you to cum inside me. I’ll d-die if you don’t,” you beg. You know you’ll probably regret it in the morning, all that you’ve said here in this bedroom. But at the moment you can’t find it inside you to care. Mainly because he was taking up every inch of you.

“Yeah? Need it? I’ll give it to you baby. Will give you anything you want.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the edge, walls clenching around him so hard he falls with you. A mutual “fuck!” falls from both your and his lips.

You're both panting as you come down from the high. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. Suddenly Steve is giggling, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“What? Why are you laughing?” you ask with just a little bit of worry.

“I am so fucking glad you ordered a lemon drop martini.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fic #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader

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astrosirensblog · 1 year

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Sirenas Astrology observations

• moon hard aspects to mercury could be an indicator for having a hard time expressing your emotions verbally. Not having words of affirmation as a love language or having a hard time giving and receiving compliments or loving words. The type of person who says “I don’t have to say I love you everyday , I rather show it”

• the placement you have Aphrodite in can tell you how you can enhance your feminine energy and feel more beautiful inside and out. For example having Aphrodite in taurus could mean that cooking and taking more time to rest will make you feel better and nourished. Aphrodite in gemini needs to socialize and read or write to flourish in their feminine energy better

• people with permanent 10th house placements are known even when they’re not socializing much. They’re the type of person who don’t know many people but many people know them. It’s hard to ignore their presence, even when they don’t do anything

• People with mars in the 10th house tend to attract many people. Even people who hate them get obsessed with them and try to humbled them as much as possible. People with this placement don’t realize how intimidating their presence is and people see them as constant competition. Selena Gomez has this placement and we all know how other celebrities and even fan basis treat her even though she doesn’t do anything actively to provoke them. Honestly taking care of her mental health and not letting anybody humble her was the best decision she could have made for herself

• psyche in synastry can tell you about what you really need in a relationship in order to feel happy and fulfilled and become a better person. With your psyche placement you can learn on which parts you have to work on yourself too. With this placement it’s less about the physical intimacy and more about the intellectual and emotional intimacy of two souls coming together

• people with many 12th house placements tend to take criticism really personal and don’t like hearing it at all since they already have a hard time accepting themselves. They also struggle with feeling seen and appreciated even when people try to make them feel good, it’s never enough because they often lack self validation

• People with virgo placements take working out and looking fit really serious. I never meet a person with virgo placements who didn’t care about their physical appearance

• Having Mars in 4th house conjunct to the north node is a huge indicator of generational trauma that has been passing on in the family a lot. And this could bother the natal person a lot and it can cause friction in the family dynamic when they try to heal from that trauma and break the cycle

• Lillith shows up as the part of yourself that society has tried to repress or make you feel ashamed of. If it’s for example in the 3th house, you could have been told a lot to not share your views or opinions. Or people made fun of your voice growing up. You can take back your power by becoming more confident and expressing these parts of yourself freely

• Women who have Lillith conjunct sun and or asc often use their appearance and sexuality as a way to get what they want. For example Megan Thee Stellion has Lillith in Taurus conjunct her asc and she’s known for her beautiful and hot appearance and her lyrics where she also talks a lot about sex. Marylin Monroe also has Lillith in the first house, I didn’t need to explain how influential her appearance and sensuality is in the media to this day

• people with Lillith conjunct their first house tend to have sanpaku eyes too, here’s a reference:

• Neptune in the chart shows you the part of life where you have to be more firm with your boundaries and don’t overshare because Neptune indistincts your intuition. For example if you have Neptune in the 11th house don’t force connections or friendships, don’t overshare to your friends and be really firm with your boundaries because you tend to let people cross over the line too much. Also don’t expect all of your friends to have the same intentions as you do, some people just want to use you or dim your light so be careful and stay safe

• The planet your sun is conjunct to can be a part of your life where you feel more confident and you don’t like it when people tell you what to do. For example if your sun is conjunct your venus you tend to make the first move when you like someone and you don’t like it when someone tells you that this person is out of your league or you can’t get them to like you. Ego and love go hand in hand with this aspect

#sirenas astrology observations #astrology #astro observations #astrology notes #astrology content #astrology observations

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 19 days

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Tongue Tied Together

🩸Previous Parts Here🩸

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heat), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, grumpy Dom, Tom being his helpful self, discussions of sex, mentions of killing, cursing, grumpy tea making, insults, light stalking, Dom being clueless, Kells being stubborn, Kells being a badass boss bitch, discussions of serious topics such as- trafficking, past assault (physical and SA), allusions to childhood trauma and sexual trauma (all just explained in a discussion- nothing is said in detail but keep yourself safe!), Collette being a badass gem and trying to help dumb boys, enemies to lovers 💣 Rating: mature

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

“You look like ‘hammered shit’ as the kids say. Sweet dreams again I suppose?” Tom's voice was soft as Dom entered the kitchen of their flat. His words were harsh but they'd never sugar coated life for each other. Considering the way they met it wouldn't make sense to be gentle, the photographer knew what the Alpha was before they even spoke. They'd made a home together of sorts even though they only liked each other as brothers and they even mixed home and work life. Tom ran a photography crime blog and was basically Dom's hitman assistant- there was really no need to be kind.

“Fanks. Tea?” If Dom was speaking so little he had obviously slept terribly, the boy's ADHD made him ramble like a five year old on meth when he wasn't in desperate need of a kill. It worried his best friend to see him so down.

Tom nodded to the kettle and watched the other man shuffle around the room. It had been over a week since the kid had come home covered in mating mess and grinning like mad- quite literally like mad, Dom was certifiable but they took care of each other and he'd helped find ways to keep his friend mostly sane. Then he accidentally sent him after that mob boss omega and everything and nothing changed. He hated watching the kid hurt but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He knew Dom was still ‘keeping an eye’- the Alpha's phrase for stalking, but he guessed the man still hadn't contacted him again. Since that happy afternoon delight the killer had been fighting old demons at night and while normally Tom would tell someone to talk to their fucking mate, this was a special case. Wasn't Dom always one…

Tom knew more than he probably should, the other man could overshare like no one else when he was manic. They'd been through everything together so he was used to it. He'd even been the one to help get the Alpha's wards set up in the states. Anyone who did so much to give their little sisters such a good life was a saint in his book, even if that halo of Dom's was held in place by horns. He just didn't know if the demons plaguing his friend were from his past or his present. It was hard to fish when the one you're trying to help occasionally enjoyed seeing people's insides on their outsides. Not that he'd ever truly threatened Tom.

“Tea's good today.” Even grumpy Dom could compliment his friend but it felt like a chore making himself sit across from him.

Tom took a deep breath that he didn't mean to let escape in a sigh as he made a choice and glanced up at the Alpha. He looked awful, dark circles under dead eyes and his hair even more wild than normal. “You know you can just… talk to him right?”

Dom was too tired to roll his eyes so instead he dropped his sight to the cup in front of him. Damn Tom for being so perceptive. “I don't care-” He stopped short. He couldn't lie with the man he thought of as his brother. “He's got me number.” He shrugged instead and he didn't have to look to know the other wasn't too tired to roll his eyes.

“And you've got his. Hell, you see him so often you could just… say hi? Of course not. So what? You just stalk him into submission?”

“I don't bloody know Tom. He needs me. I can feel it but he's so fucking stubborn!” The scoff his friend answered him with made his brow arch. “Fairs. Ya cunt. You know it's ya fault. I mean who fucks someone and never talks to ‘em again?” The voice crack and silly question showed the boy's age but it still hurt the omega's heart.

“Almost everyone?” He shrugged back but it wasn't what the kid needed to hear. People could be shit, that didn't mean Colson was. “He's got secrets too. You said…” He had to take a breath and prepare himself for an awkward conversation. Weren't they all though? He could still remember the time he had to catch the Alpha and bathe him after Dom attempted to stop killing cold turkey, before he decided to just protect his girls from afar. He didn't want a bad Alpha in their lives, even himself. Of course the break in self care and release for his urges wasn't the right choice. Tom still couldn't forget the sight he'd walked in on after tracking the boy down that night. Having to spray down a full grown arsehole after he ran home half naked and covered in red was an experience they didn't talk about. Awkward was relative. “He seemed… new to that, yeah?”

“‘Ere was blood. And wiv ‘ow he talked… If I weren't the first I'd be surprised.” That thought yet again sent a rush of emotion through Dom he couldn't fully understand. Why did that make his stomach flip? His cock twitch? His heart felt funny in his chest.

“And he was on heavy duty Alpha hormones. Long enough to grow up here since around puberty and pass. I've researched everything I can on him and for what the world knows he's an Alpha. That could have been his first heat. I can't imagine what it's like going through that so late.” Tom shuddered. It was a truly terrifying thought.

“Alright well ‘en why? Wha’ ‘append to start it?” Dom could feel the other man glaring at him. He wasn't daft, he just… didn't always understand simple things. Ask him how long it took someone to bleed out from a neck wound and he was a genius but his father hadn't cared to teach him omega sex ed beyond where he was supposed to stick his knot in one.

“You're serious? Dominic… Fucks sake. You. You happened.”

“Wha’ ya mean?” The boy almost whimpered. He genuinely didn't understand. Not really. Or maybe he just couldn't let himself. He wasn't ready. How could he be?

“I'll just say… you had the right pheromones for each other. But-” Tom was scared to ask the next question. He knew he had to navigate carefully, he couldn't let his friend go off the deep end. “So just that one time?” He paused long enough for Dom to nod. “And you've been close enough to see if he's still sick?”

“He seems alright now. Bitchy but alright. Maybe he got new blockers.”

Either the omega found stronger blockers, the old ones messed up his system so much that it was a false heat, or… No, it had to be one of the two. There was no way they wouldn't notice anything else, not with how drawn to each other they were. Tom just didn't know whether to push the Alpha to talk to Kells or not. Granted… maybe it didn't have to be Dom he gave the nudge to.

🩸☠️🩸

Colson was pissed. The man he was supposed to meet for the buy he had set up was later than anyone had given him the disrespect of before. The club was mostly quiet around them, even the normally pounding music was turned down. That was the benefit of owning your own place, you could do whatever you wished with it, but there were still enough people milling around to keep trigger happy idiots from doing anything stupid. He was in the VIP section taking up most of a velvet bench seat, his lanky body spread out to give the appearance of nonchalance. In actuality the omega was raging inside and wondering who to shoot first.

“Hey boss…” Mod’s voice was almost shaking, the beta obviously didn't want to bare any bad news.

From behind his purple shades Kells watched his friend nod his head indicating to someone against the far dark corner of the building. For a moment he thought the seller had finally arrived but no- it was just the fucking Alpha a-fucking-gain. Maybe Dom was who he should shoot first. A small part of his inner turmoil relaxed at the sight of him. He hated that he couldn't stop himself from feeling safer and calmer in the killer's presence. He didn't ask for him to come, Dom was always just… there. “Leave it. He's not the problem right now.” Colson snapped, trying to move his sight away from his stalker. He could feel his core pulse between his thighs but he ignored it. He would ignore the Alpha as well.

“But-” Megan huffed from Col’s other side and he shot a withering glare at her. It must have been something because she rolled her eyes and looked away, crossing her arms with a huff.

“I don't care if he wants to be a god damned fly on the wall alright? He's not doing shit but creeping.” Kells shrugged, he was tired of her bullshit to be honest. He was tired of everything. The past week had been one of the weirdest of his life and he just needed one thing to go right.

After the impromptu bang sesh the Monday before he and Dom had gone their separate ways with a few more insults tossed at each other, though they felt a little more playful than before. He'd gone home and slept like the dead and starting the next day he'd tried a new blocker. The fucking things just straight up refused to work. He wasn't sick anymore but he could tell the fake hormones weren't working. After a few days of trying he just tossed them out. It wasn't too bad anyway, he still felt slick when he saw the psycho which happened a lot more than he'd assumed it would, but that was about it. Every day Dom would appear in the shadows and while at first it pissed him off, now it was simply a part of life. The hitman was just his annoying shadow, the guy didn't even try to talk to him or anything. Sometimes he even caught Dom curled up on his balcony asleep. He refused to admit he slept better those nights.

He finally looked away from his new Alpha shadow and checked the time on his watch. “Fuck! I hope this asshole knows-”

“Boss!” Before Colson could finish his threat the man in question appeared at the door. Kells felt his trigger finger twitch but he didn't reach for his gun. Yet. He noticed his mother disappearing from her seat next to him but she rarely stayed around for the meetings. It was a compliment if anything, she trusted him as much as she'd trusted the man she loved.

Pete- the man he normally trusted to be his go between with sellers looked suitably shaken as he came to meet the group. The beta was trying to look hard but there was a subtle trembling in his limbs. When he reached Colson's table he took a seat across from him and his knee bounced. For just a moment the omega wondered if that was how people acted around Dom but he pushed that away. He was scarier than his golden retriever psycho. “You gotta understand- this ain't on me alright boss? I swear! These guys they just… they never showed up and all I got was this text saying the shipment was taken care of. I dunno what that means boss. Ya gotta know I wouldn't fuck you over. You're my best customer! I mean-”

Colson arched a brow at the man's nervous rambling. It would be hilarious to let him work himself up to pissing himself but Kells was tired. Dom hadn't slept close the night before. Fuck. He shouldn't let himself get used to it. “You mean what? That you fucked me over? That you're so fucking shitty at your job you lost me millions on product? Cause that's what this is Petey. You. Fucked. Up. Now, why shouldn't I just shoot you now and be done with it? You'll take out the trash, right?” He asked the last of Mod who nodded but then Megan was laughing at his threat and resting her hand on his thigh. It automatically made him itch and his gaze flicked to where he'd last seen the Alpha. Shit- was his mom talking to the freak?

“Cause you love me boss! We're friends!”

“Are we? My friends don't lose my shit.”

“Fucks sake boss I didn't mean to!”

“They already rescheduled from last Friday to tonight. Is this why? They were trying to fuck me over?” Kells was near growling. He hated being disrespected like that. The previous leader never was. Everyone acted as if Col was softer and he always worried it was his secret, that somehow everyone felt it without knowing.

“All I gots a text. Fuckers said the buy was done. I dunno boss. I'm sorry.” Pete shrugged and looked near to passing out.

He should be sorry. Everyone should be. Pete didn't know but Colson- just like his adoptive father before him didn't buy up omegas to sell. Travis had hated the way the fairer designation was treated and he built up his family to save them. That's how Kells had made it to them originally, thanks to his asshole Alpha bio dad. They made their money in guns and drugs but while everyone thought they were the best in the trafficking world they were doing quite the opposite. They would purchase shipments of omegas and give them new identities. New lives. Not everyone in the family was a fan of it but it was his reason to live. The reason his secret was so important. In truth deep down he and his stalker weren't so different.

🩸☠️🩸

Dom felt his polite mask slip in place as Collette approached him, though part of his smile was genuine. He truly liked her. She was a sweet but hard omega with her son's eyes and smile. Not that Colson ever smiled. She moved to hug him and he accepted it even if he was a little stiff. After squeezing him tight she led him away to a table but let him keep his needed line of sight as they sat down. “Sweetheart, you look like hammered shit.” Her voice was lovely and her words… true. He couldn't deny it.

“You ain't the first to say tha’ today. Jus' can't sleep. I'll be alright.” He shrugged one shoulder, his fingers tearing apart a coaster on the table. He couldn't help fidgeting at all times.

“May I ask what's wrong?” Her voice stayed gentle as she laid her hand over his. Dom had never had a good mum and for just a moment he wondered if he'd be different with someone who cared like her. She genuinely seemed to already.

“Rough week. He-” The Alpha grit his teeth, he didn't know much about social or relationship norms- not that he was in one- but he was pretty sure bitching to a fuck buddy’s mummy wasn't allowed. Bollocks.

The omega tried not to chuckle as she watched the boy fight himself over something. He was so young and sweet seeming, even though she knew who he was in the dark. Killing didn't phase her, she'd done her own plenty when needed and she wasn't as blonde as she appeared to be. It wasn't hard for her to see the common denominator in every one of Yungblud’s hits- Alphas. Bad ones. Hell, to the rest of the world her son was the leader of the top trafficking ring, she understood why Colson would be on his list and she knew that they shared the same principles, they just took care of the problem in different ways.

“You know when I met my husband I was scared to let him in. I fought and I fought and I told him I hated him every day for months. He had basically bought me from- from my previous husband and I hated all Alphas for it for a long time. He always said I was free to go though and I just… didn't. I couldn't make myself.” She laughed softly and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Eventually I realized I could trust him and we grew closer. By the time Colson came to us we were in love and I was finally strong enough to help my boy through hell.”

Dom’s brows furrowed and his gaze flicked between the two. Colson was too far away for his liking but he could see him. “Wha’ ‘append? To Cols I mean.”

Collette took a breath and pulled her hand back to fidget herself. She didn't know exactly how much she could say but she also didn't want the boy giving up. “My first husband… He was someone I think you'd like to meet with those knives you seem so partial to.” She paused as she watched Dom start to reach for his bag before he stopped and sat up straighter. “I was given to him by my own father very young and he was a religious ass who thought Alphas were God's gift and omegas were-”

“I know tha’ type. I fink me dad and Col’s would ‘ave been friends.” Dom shuddered.

“Yes well… He hated that I gave him an omega son. He was… he was terrible to us both. After the birth he hated me and let me know it. His brother was just as bad but that bastard thought if my husband wasn't using me…" She paused to let the gravity sink in. Her brother-in-law had been a sick fuck. Both of them were. "When Colson was two my ex caught his brother assaulting me and of course blamed me. He beat me so badly the next week was a blur. I woke up the day Travis found me and we tried to get my son back but the fuckers had moved.”

Dom watched her calmly talk about the hell she'd been through as if she were speaking about the weather. He knew that feeling, that separation from your own trauma because it was far too big to feel. He had his own story and he gave her the respect she deserved by keeping eye contact as he listened. “Wha’ appended to ‘im?” There was a soft growl in his chest.

“I'm not sure it's my story to tell. But history repeats itself, I think we both know that. My son came back to me broken. It had been a decade and he was… he'd been through something terrible. As soon as it was safe he went on blockers and my love took him under his wing. It was Col's choice to hide. Just please understand he has a good reason to be scared of what you did together. He might be terrified for a while. Please just… be patient? I think you could be good for each other. And he'll really need you now.” She gave him a soft smile and he nodded.

He couldn't do much more than that. The sociopath wasn't used to emotions but something was aching in his chest. He knew what her words meant. He hadn't technically been the omega's first, just the first he allowed. The panic Dom had felt in the moment was shared. He also knew there were two new names on his list but he wouldn't leave the man yet to take care of it.

“He stopped taking his blockers. If you were worried. He'll figure it out. Just give him time.” She soothed but he was confused why he should care about that. The Machine Gun could do whatever he wanted with his body. He didn't hate the thought of being able to scent him though. “Oh.” Collette laughed softly, shaking her head. “I'll talk to him, alright? Don't give up.” Her voice was sweet as she patted his arm over where the omega had bit him as if it meant something more than he understood. He couldn't help admiring her beauty and she wasn't much older it seemed than her son. If Colson had been sold at twelve... Maybe she had been married off then too. Yeah, those two were definitely on his list. After a moment she slid off her chair and pressed a kiss to his cheek before disappearing back to her son. It left Dom to watch and wait and picture all the ways he could slaughter those who hurt what was his. Wait... Fuck.

Of course he didn't plan on leaving Kells alone, he couldn't seem to make himself. Something about the man drew him in and kept him there. Like a moth to a flame. Maybe he just needed to try a little more than stalking- Tom kept telling him words were good. Watching the omega he knew it wasn't conversation he wanted to share but he'd do anything to stay close. Even put off his own bubbling needs.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone else wants tagged let me know 🖤

So this chapter was intense but I tried to keep some of it light. These boys have been through hell but they can help each other. Hopefully they'll start getting closer in the next chapter but I hope you enjoyed a little more Tom and Collette time! Also mob boss Kells moments are fun. I hope you liked it 💣🖤

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not-yet-so-broken · 12 days

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this is why theres no winning for me

if i call her a rapist, women will very excited tell oh no shes not a rapist that women cant rape that its misogynist to say women can rape you're too stupid to understand real rape just feel lucky you werent really raped. they will tell me no one is treating my assault as any less and that my concerns are stupid.

if i say she sexually assaulted, then is immediately treated like a joke. ppl in their head think im talking like some small thing like a grope on a bus or something in that category. i am put in position of having to defend myself and overshare about things i dont want to to explain. and group a is fine with that never once do i see them argue.

and i see why ppl want rape to mean penis-in-vagina male aggressor only. im a woman im not stupid.

but then everything is kill all rapists. support rape victims. is all focusing on rape. there is nothing about sexual assaulters, sexual assault survivors. not even a word. no sentiment. no anger to them, not the same way, especially once u say its a woman. only defenses and excuse

it almost feels like both groups feel more solidarity with my rapist than with me. because they never speak with anger about her, but many women get angry with me or frustrated with me. or i get dumbass hug emojis and im sooooo sorry that happened to u... oh but i still think its not rape and that what she did 2 u isnt violent or horrific or heinous btw but ur trauma is valid ok.

wow thanks.

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f0point5 · 2 months

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People oversharing on the internet has become such a HUGE issue imo. They feel the need to share everything to an audience full of strangers. I miss the days when social media and private life were actually separated because nowadays it seems like it’s all blended together. Might as well take the word ”privacy“ out of the dictionary because it doesn’t exist anymore. And for them to go and post something like that ?!? The tweet just casually trauma dumping to strangers and the worst part is they’re all eating it up ? The comments be like: ”I’m so sorry for you, I totally get your disappointment in him“ or ”I’m with you you’re not alone, we got each other during this disappointing time” like wow. Are you guys mental ?!? What’s going on 😭 I think a lot of fans (and idc if this upsets anyone) are way too caught up in the drivers personal life and the whole WAG thing which also leads to women who are fans of the actual racing to not be taken seriously. There I said it. I see tiktoks or tweets saying: me in the garage of McLaren watching Lando race as his wag- Girl you won’t ever be a ”WAG” 😭 this obsession with the drivers love life and ”WAGs” needs to end because it’s concerning. Are you watching F1 because you like the sport or are you just constantly imagining yourself in the paddock as a drivers girlfriend and just stick around for the racing because you got nothing better to do ? No wonder people claim that women only watch to thirst over the men when that’s 70% of F1 content online posted by women.

Alsoooo the ones that go around saying things like ”women aren’t respected in motorsports” and ”there’s so much sexism coming from these rich men” are the same ones that go ahead and say shit like: ”I want his babies“ and even worse stuff under a drivers post ?!? How is that not bad as well? That’s just as disrespectful.

Yeah, my god. When we said “be open about your mental health” we meant with friends and family not the world at large. The notion that sharing your daily experiences with the world is helpful to anyone really needs to die.

I have no words for those unhinged individuals sharing their trauma as a reason why Lando Norris (complete stranger) owes them something. Literally no words I’m the vocabulary to adequately articulate my revulsion.

People can like the sport or the drivers for whatever reason they want but the parasocial has gone too far for some of these people. I really can see why people are in so many unhappy relationships, because if you can delude yourself into thinking a person you’ve never even met will conform to your fantasy (which let me tell you is problematic in itself because these fantasies are always just someone who mirrors their every thought.), I guess you can project reasoning into real people who treat you like crap. Rip to all the real mean out there competing with delusion the way women compete with p*rn stars 😂

Yeah the “rich men” trope to explain behaviour makes me laugh. As if middle class or working class men have different opinions. I know y’all would like to put these drivers in some otherworldly category where you don’t have to confront the fact that they’re just ordinary people getting on with their lives the same way your boyfriend, friend, brother, and dad likely would in their position, but that’s still delusional thinking. You think only rich men ignore issues that don’t affect them? The entirety of the middle class is rioting in the streets, baying for whatever cause has got your knickers in a twist today, and it’s only the rich men getting on with their lives? Give me a break 🙄

#lando norris

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olderthannetfic · 2 years

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I’m curious about your thoughts or even advice on this, if you’re willing. I had dinner last night with a group of four other people (acquaintances, but we’re in the process of becoming friends) and of course, we started talking about relationships and sex. Our ages range from early to late 20s, 2 men and 3 women.

When we’re on the topic of virginity, one woman drops the fact that her first time having sex was when she got raped in high school. The tone of her statement seemed calculated in a way that discouraged the idea she was looking for pity, but the experience is clearly not something she feels okay with, either.

I didn’t know what to say. And what ended up happening is one of the guys started to joke about it, and so she laughed along with it too. I really don’t think that was the reaction she was hoping for.

I mean, trauma makes people uncomfortable and I’m sure that’s why it was turned into a joke, but I don’t think that was okay.

However, I also don’t know how to react to that. I feel like this is a common way that people choose to share personal trauma. It is hard to have a dark and serious conversation. It is safer to share that sort of thing causally, in a humorous way.

But just because humor is the way a person feels most comfortable with telling you something like that, I don’t think it’s appropriate to go along and encourage the idea that it’s a joke.

How do you respond when someone does this?

"Jeez, dude, that's rough," or words to that effect.

I wouldn't joke about it, but I'd respond with some low-stakes sympathy. That comes off as less pitying than making a big deal of it. There's not a lot you can say to a bombshell like that besides acknowledging the person and moving on.

If they're an inappropriate oversharer, this will rob them of what they want (drama, fawning sympathy), and if they're telling you because you're becoming friends but they aren't really sure how to bring it up or what response they actually want (which sounds like this case), it shows you care about them without making things weird and forcing the conversation to dwell on this topic.

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inkykeiji · 1 year

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hi clari :p i just wanted to ask if flawless tomura is really in love with the reader? he’s my favorite of all your characters because he seems saner and more genuine than bmb tomura but some of the stuff he does/says seems like he doesn’t really love her

hehe hi anon!! <3 this is an interesting question, and it has an equally interesting and complex answer.

tw: discussions of abuse, drug addiction, mental illness, clari overshares, LONG answer

okay SO.

flawless tomura is, just like every other character i write, HEAVILY flawed as a person. he isn’t a ‘good’ person. he has a lot of issues/problematic qualities; he’s extremely entitled, he’s selfish, he is unhealthily possessive which leads to extreme jealousy and obsessiveness, he needs to be the boss at all the times and thus is extremely controlling, etc etc the list goes on. these are all huge red flags, obviously.

he is much more genuine than bmb tomura in the sense that he is extremely, extremely honest. he is so bluntly honest about his thoughts and his feelings, and he rarely lies unless he has a good reason to (and does not consider lying via omission—ie conveniently not telling reader about how he bought the consignment store and stalked her, is a drug addict, is heir to a yakuza empire, etc—to be lying. to him, it’s her fault that she didn’t ask. but he isn’t actively lying to her or hiding things from her; if she asked, he’d be brutally honest with her).

‘love’ can be a very interesting, complicated, complex and convoluted topic, depending on the relationship and the people. my father claims to love my mom, to love his kids, but he put us nearly a million dollars in debt, he stole money from all of us to support his drug addiction, he put me in some seriously dangerous situations when i was under ten fucking years old, all to support his drug addiction. he was and still is extremely abusive towards all of us. mental illness and extreme childhood trauma may be an explanation for his actions, but it isn’t and never will be an excuse. he is still responsible for his own decisions, and it is still his responsibility to get better, to DO better, and to be a decent fucking human being.

do i doubt his love? not necessarily, but he made a lot of very dire mistakes that caused all of us a lot of pain and irreversible scars, and eventually they’re no longer mistakes, they’re decisions, they’re conscious choices, they’re patterns of behaviour. and yet, despite these choices he consciously made, knowing they’d hurt those he loves and values most, i still wouldn’t say he doesn’t love us deeply and dearly, because i know my father, and i know he does.

a lot of people would say that these aren’t things you do to people you truly love, and i get that. i understand that sentiment. they most definitely are not things good and/or mentally healthy people do to those they love. i could never conceive doing any of the shit he did to us to my significant other. but the truth of it all is the people you love WILL hurt you at least once, because they are flawed human beings. and the truth is, no matter how hard you try not to, you WILL hurt the people you love at least once, because you are a flawed human being, too. i think, personally, what it comes down to is intent and reaction. we don’t usually mean to hurt our loved ones. those of us with good hearts don’t consciously make these decisions. and then it’s important to question: does that person take responsibility for their mistakes? do they acknowledge them and learn + grow from them and become better from them? or do they continue to make these choices even after they know they hurt you? etc.

i’m going off on this tangent to demonstrate how complex and complicated love can truly become when it involves a person like this; like tomura, like touya-nii, like my father. as i’m sure is very evident, my own father is a huge source of inspiration for the men i write, for lack of a better word. i am NOT going off on this tangent to excuse anyone’s behaviour or say it’s alright; no one deserves to be treated like this, and if anyone reading this finds themselves in a relationship like this, romantic or otherwise, please leave as soon as it is feasible; it is not healthy and it is not safe.

so does flawless!tomura genuinely love his reader? yes, absolutely. is it true love? i don’t know, what is true love, really? how do you define it? it’s a different answer for everyone. most of us would say no. but to HIM it most definitely is true love; he’d rip your fucking head off if you implied otherwise. this is the only way he personally can conceive love. does his ‘love’ excuse his abuse or make it okay? no, absolutely not, and it never will. but does he love her? yeah, he does.

it isnt always as black and white as people who have never experienced abuse would like you to believe. people are complicated, people are MESSY. conveniently, a lot of these themes and topics are touched upon in part two!

WHEW okay. that was a lot but i hope it helps a lil! art is subjective and i always welcome everyone who consumes my work to interpret it however they want to (death of the author n all that jazz, my own meaning + interpretation is only one of infinite), so this is my answer as the author. but it may also be beneficial (and fun!) to ask yourself what YOU think. how do you interpret his love/feelings and their relationship? what does true/real love mean to YOU? how do you define it? do the aggravating factors (ie who tomura is as a person, the fact that he won’t ever be capable of 100% healthy love) make an impact at all? do you believe this is love, or is it just really intense infatuation and obsession? etc!! you’re welcome to believe whatever you’d like <3 but this is my answer as the author! c:

#I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE????????#sorry for going off on a personal tangent but it’s the only way i knew how to explain it #and what i think best illustrates what i’m trying to say #i hope ur having a lovely thursday anon!!#please stay safe and stay healthy <333 #inky.bb #clari gets mail #flawless universe

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a-room-of-my-own · 1 year

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Bonzhoor 👋

I've been following you for a little while and I wanted to ask you something if it's ok, sorry in advance for the oversharing 😭

I'm recently single (I'm a guy) and I find myself surprisingly unable to cope with one thing in particular, which is the lack of intimacy. I'm not talking about sex, but more about tenderness and contact.

I thought I'd be ok being single because I have good friends and a wonderful family, so socially I'm fine, and sex for me is a result, so to speak, of connection and intimacy, so if I'm not with a person with whom I share those I don't miss it.

But it's the kisses, the cuddles, the loving little gestures and words I miss so much. I wake up literally every morning craving the embrace of someone close, like a screaming need that's almost painful to feel.

I remember some time ago you replied to an anon saying you miss it sometimes but overall you feel fine without it so it might be an odd question but would you have, i don't really know, tips or advice on how to cope with it ? I feel like I'm doing what I should in order to be a balanced, healthy person on my own, but I have no idea how to address this part of being single.

I'm so sorry. I know it's very painful to miss that. To be honest, I think you're already healthy. My adaptation to loneliness is quite literally a byproduct of past trauma. I don't think the way I react or preventively protect myself is normal or healthy. I know it's very fashionable to be super independent, to love yourself and be your own best friend, but these recommendations are just a coping mechanism to tolerate a society more and more based on hyper-individualism.

In truth, we're social animals, and missing company, intimacy and love is normal. It means love and intimacy are something that doesn't feel dangerous or suspicious to you, like it can feel to me. And it's good! I don't know if it's because you grew up loved and secure in your attachments and feelings or if you built that yourself, but in any case, that is something I would love to have!

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angelmelon · 2 days

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MEET ANGELICMELONNNN

hi guys it’s me hit artist Angelicmelon He/It pronouns

I used to be called CheezyBakedRat on Amino. If anyone remembers this very niche era of our life DNI/hj

3rd gen Irish Diaspora living on Shawnee land, plan to move to Ireland with my beautiful partners and my service doggy, Little Melon when I turn 18 or soon after for the better disability benefits and connection to my ancestry

I am a veiling Satanist, I only veil part time but I aspire to begin veiling full time one day!! I veil as a spiritual protection, I find it gives me a clearer mind and clearer energy

My favorite fruit is watermelon 🍉, though I like many other fruits and foods!! I like pomegranate, macaroni and cheese, chocolate hummus, mint ice cream, all things sweet, and I make a damn good Waraq Dawali (I think. I know I will end up very embarrassed when an actual Middle Eastern person tries my Waraq Dawali recipe.)

I am pro 🇵🇸!! If you support the displacement or harm or death of indigenous people in any capacity DNI. In other words, if you support Israel DNI. You do not belong on my page and I will eat you

Other DNI Criteria include:

🍉 Endogenic systems or any other genic that is not traumagenic systems. System hopping is not real stop being delulu 😭🙏

❤️ TERFSSSSS!!! BOOOOOO GET OFF MY PAGE YOU PUS POSTULE COVERED ARBYS BAG GREASE PLAGUE ERA VAMPIRES!!! TRANS PEOPLE EXIST!!!

🍉 Fundamentalist religious folks of any kind!! I am chill with pretty much everyone of every religion!! However, I do not feel comfortable nor safe around fundamentalists. This may mean many things to many people, but the definition for this page is any religious person who proselytizes to others unprompted, or any religious perosn who utilizes their religion for purposes of eugenics, discrimination, or other forms of hatred rather than the love and respect religion is supposed to entail. “You’re a dirty Satanist” I am a very cleanly Satanist, thank you!!

❤️ this should be very common sense considering literally everything I have said up to this point but IF YOU HAVE WEIRD GROSS FETISHES BOOOOOOOO GO AWAY I am a minor 🙅 I guess some people apparently don’t care about that which reminds me IF YOU LIKE MINORS BOOOOOO DIE 🖕❌ I AM APPROACHING YOUR LOCATION AS WE SPEAK

🍉 non casual Hazbin fans. If you defend Vivzie go away 💔

oh yeah BYF

🍉 I am very VERY mean I apologize I am not exactly the most well socialized person

❤️ I WILL post and reblog Palestine and other humanitarian related things related things, regardless of graphic nature. People should be well familiar with what’s happening in Palestine right now, and I think people should know if they don’t already. I will make sure to reblog any educational posts I see!!

🍉 I make a lot of jokes at the expense of certain Christian denominations, I was raised Catholic and have quite abit of Christian religious trauma expanding beyond my raised denomination. Chances are if I bully your denomination it’s because the church unfortunately traumatized me somehow. I hold no ill will towards any person, but the institutions done screwed me up

❤️ I am a OSDD-1B haver and system. Will not talk about it much. Though if another alter posts something, be nice!!

🍉 HUGE oversharer. Like huge huge oversharer. I will tone it down from how I am in other spaces because iiiiii frankly don’t want my immediate family to know I have a Tumblr page 😭💔 you might be wondering how would they find it?? They would Not I am simply paranoid

❤️ I AM TAKEN X2!!! Shoutout to my lovely beautiful partners, neither of which follow me on Tumblr. It’s okay I only just started actually using this account 🙏 they’ll probably follow me in the future

🍉 may use this account to practice Arabic skills just abit, i have been learning!! Please, do critique my skills, it helps me learn!! Marhaba, esmi Angelicmelon!! wahadhih safhati ealaa Tumblr!!! 🫶

❤️ if you make transphobic BS and make it public I will comment on it sorrryyyyyyy jk not sorry 🖕

🍉 OH YEAH OH YEAH i have certain words that can trigger my Vasovagal Syncope, I can’t exactly say them and I don’t blame people for posting about them without knowing but know I will avoid certain posts like the plague

🍉🍉🍉 thank you for being on my page!!! 🍉🍉🍉

#Angelicmelon #queer artist #trans artist #autistic artist #disabled artist #🍉#free 🍉#palestine 🍉

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sunkenclementine · 1 year

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near-end, 2022; a cesspool

every once in a while i’ll come here to upload lengthy posts, just to reflect on what life’s been like. it’s no doubt difficult to carry on with clarity without having processed the past. hence an exercise in just that for the past few months... man this’ll be long. oversharing + tmi ahead but i doubt anyone i know follows this. first off, my grandma died. truly it was a culmination of multitude factors, but chiefly it was because of her children’s neglect. emotional and verbal abuse. if they’d cared even in the slightest, maybe they’d have taken a look at her ‘sleeping’ figure at least once in those eight hours and thought, “isn’t it peculiar that she’s asleep in the morning/afternoon?”, maybe they’d have flipped her over to see her frothing at the mouth and face a striking blue. maybe they’d have rushed her to the hospital whose treatment they definitely had the money to afford, instead of a seedier one whose treatments further complicated her conditions. this – this is hard to reconcile, the way they treated her. i know, from my mum’s stories, that none of them had it easy growing up; some had gotten into gangs/mixed with the wrong crowds, some were neglected more than others, some were physically beaten. which is why i’m certain they still harbour trauma stemming from their childhoods, still hold grudges against the people who were meant to raise them well, show them care, love them. those grudges were probably what might’ve alienated them from her; they didn’t see a need for someone who abused/played a role in perpetuating abuse against them. and i feel for them; it’s not like any of them have the means of receiving therapy when they didn’t grow up in an environment where mental health was ever perceived as a priority, where ‘trauma’ was never conceived as a concept to begin with. i still see that childhood trauma continuing to manifest in them as adults: one says he drinks and smokes to die, one falters in maintaining familial relations, one spits venom to mask a cripplingly low self-esteem, one spends his days praying away and is afraid of returning to the home is mum lived in. it’s fucking heartbreaking to see that none of them have ever really, or don’t see the need to confront what their younger selves had endured; to come to terms with or reckon with their hardships. maybe, just maybe, if they’d healed themselves (or ‘inner children’ – i’ve seen that term online), they’d have at the very least gone non-contact with their mum, or felt okay enough to care for their mum – not abuse her and deteriorate her existing condition. i don’t expect them to take care of her willingly, i understand why they might not want to. but, but. i don’t expect them to be so quick in hustling to settle the wills, allocation of lands/property etc. i don’t expect them to so callously say, “see, this is why i’m glad i don’t have female kids,” while their sister’s crying in the hospital at a prospective death. i don’t... i don’t know. perhaps their trauma masks them from seeing how others treasured the same person who’d abused them – that, i can understand. but some basic empathy, some sensitivity towards those who are grieving? i don’t know if that’s unreasonable to expect, i honestly don’t know. i just know that i don’t know how any of them truly feel about this; my comments are mere speculation. nonetheless, i’m not comfortable interacting with them anymore (save for one uncle). the video calls i’d had with my mum when she was alone in india continue to haunt me; man, i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone look so hollowed out and battered down. she’d left singapore with so much hope, individual and collective, that her mum would pull through. but the next few days had taken such a huge fucking toll on her... man, her gaze was unfocused, it didn’t look like she’d been sleeping or eating, and she just hummed in response, didn’t say a word. couldn’t coax anything substantial out of her. i mean, that’s expected of someone who’s experiencing something traumatic, yeah? but god, she had virtually no emotional support system till my sister flew over too (which i’m eternally glad for). sometimes i think: india’s the place my mum spent her life in up till her mid-20s. the place characterises her youth, her childhood; her younger years are contained in that country. i wonder if she’d felt herself relegated back to the mind of her younger self, especially since she was alone, with no one but her siblings. and to have to witness the passing of a mother you’d only occasionally seen and talked to over the past two decades, in a space practically grounded in the interactions you’d had with her – there must be a wall of guilt and shame she’d had felt. i hope she knows, internalises some day, that she did her absolute best to care for her mum. might not have been able to give her the golden years she’d longed for, but she did her best. by no means was she a bad child. just a child who did her best. and that alone is enough. i hope she accepts that some day; i can’t imagine it being easy to come by, but. i hope her hearts welcomes the ease that comes with that realisation some day. i’ll always admire her for the selflessness she showed in those last few months.

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luckyisepic · 1 year

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prologue: how to run away

i’ve always wanted to start a blog somewhere, documenting small parts of my life for a later 80 yr old me to come across and reminisce. but every time i opened a page in my journal, or created a new account to start writing, i always ended up bailing. maybe because starting something new is hard and i’m lazy, maybe because if someone found this and randomly traced it to my real life location i could get kidnapped, or maybe i’ll start to realize that after all these years, i haven’t done anything that warrants enough attention for me to write about, or that no one would care what a random stranger on the internet thinks about random shit. after all, with 15 yr olds winning the olympics or debuting as idols, i can’t help but feel that i am losing a race that i never wanted to participate in from the start.

i don’t know what changed my mind. probably because starting this blog might make me feel like i actually accomplished something before i turn another year older, or maybe my words could actually interest someone, but here i am, about to write my entire life and thoughts into sentences and paragraphs that are badly worded and full of grammar mistakes.

welcome! my name is emma, i’m an 18 yr old pisces rising with a buttload of trauma and undiagnosed mental illness (i’m working on it i promise). i have the best music taste and terrible shit humour, a lot of opinions on the most random things, and i love to overshare. i hope whoever you are, reading this whenever, you can find whatever you need to keep on going, and realize that life isn’t always about the highs. the lows and flatlines are often the times that you learn what it truly means to be living.

#howtorunaway #blog #mental health #self care #healing journey #self healing #love yourself

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unearthingandrebuilding · 2 years

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Bad things being unsuppressed, it seems.

Horrible things.

Was coming up a lot on Saturday. Did not feel amazing. I was desperately trying to find going out and drinking and pubbing or clubbing plans. Found some. Went out at like 2am. I'm pretty ashamed, man.

Doesn't feel good. Triggering myself more, too, in a way, in the ways that I "cope."

Because I don't feel great about the way I acted or the decisions that I made. Like, what a mess.

This isn't an easy thing to deal with, what came up. And it doesn't feel good to feel like some things are going backwards. It felt like life was getting better for a while, you know? And that felt good.

Today I intentionally skipped all my meetings at work. And I haven't done much at all, productivity wise. I guess that's fair, but yeah.

I do not feel great.

Was trauma dumping and oversharing all over the place at the weekend. Being extremely extroverted again, to the point I just remind myself of people I'd put as weird and creepy and narcissistic that I've met in my own life in the past. Like, I don't feel like my behaviour is normal, man. Behaviour of a traumatised person though, I guess.

I hope I've not sabotaged my life, as well. There's this guy I've had feelings for. He gives the worst mixed signals in a way, or maybe he's just not interested in something more. But it feels like he is at times, or at least that he does like me more than he will admit - as he seems to get jealous at times and has given a signal or two that suggests... something. Idk if I'm wrong but yeah. Signals would point to something, despite words at one time.

Idk. But then there's me going out clubbing and going home with some guy. I didn't even kiss anyone or anything, but if one was to hear stories, or even know I was out (which he does), or see my location the next day (which he might have), they might put a story together. I think that's what's bothering me more than anything. I don't want to ruin something that I might not even have had... And I don't know if I'm being delusional. I notice so many little signals and signs with people sometimes. I have noticed this guy isn't making jokes directed at me or anything like that since. But that doesn't have to mean something, or mean what I'm thinking.

Idk. This has been a ramble. But I feel better now, I do.

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mothric · 2 years

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what enneagram type is the one that gets pissed off by enneagram 4s bc I'm that one

#me shaking every toxic 4 i've ever known by the shoulders: GET. OVER. YOURSELF.#they always think their pain is the most unique most painful pain and their trauma is the most traumatic trauma #and their personality just So unique Nobody can understand me #shut the fuck uppppp shut up shut up trauma isnt a dick measuring contest #and no your green eyes don't actually turn blue when you're sad katie you aren't a deviantart oc!!! gu h #ive known 4s to literally redefine words to suit their own construct of their identity #and then get mad when ppl point out that's not what those words mean #or theyll ask for constructive criticism and you'll give it and they'll either be like 'why are you so mean' or completely ignore it #i am well aware this is not applicable to all 4s everywhere i am specifically talking about toxic ones #i know good healthy 4s and they dont do this shit #it just seems like SO MANY are disproportionately toxic in this way that is carefully designed to piss me off specifically #and dont even get me started on the oversharing you didnt ask for #and then assuming you're close bc they trauma dumped on you against your will #7s do the oversharing shit too and *also* seem to like assuming my feelings for me which i cant fuckin STAND #im not uncomfortable bc i secretly like you susan i'm uncomfy bc you're invading my personal space and stepping on my boundaries #g u h .#do not repost my tags i'll murder you this is a vent for me and my 2k followers #once again want to reiterate healthy self assured 4s are actually Very cool. they dont need to tell you how cool they are #they just exist and are cool and that confidence is 10/10 #they have these niche interests you never knew they had until one day theyre casually like 'oh yea i hand stitched this whole outfit myself #or 'i'm working on my third radio show' and you're like you WHAT? you had other ones?? 10/10 love this for them

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wanderingwomanwondering · 2 years

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Buck NEEDS Trauma Processing, Stat!

Because of Buck’s really surprising 516 discussion of his 218 leg injury and early s3 blood clots etc, the impact of the shooting and hostage situation on Buck have been on my mind A LOT lately. The floodgates are opening for him…wider than before apparently. We’ve known for a while that Buck needs to process the traumas he’s experienced but his graphic overshare with a patient on a rescue (combined with Eddie’s overwhelm & plea for Buck to stop!) really drove that point home for me.

I can’t stop thinking about Buck’s various reactions to Eddie being shot in 414. Buck was shook to his core!

We only have 2 more eps left in s5 and we have still only gotten honorable mentions of the shooting, but no actual discussion of either of their specific feelings about it! Both men are still incredibly reticent to get into. There are a host of character and narrative reasons why I guess, but if the silence around it was loud at the start of s5 then it’s deafening now in the 11th hour!

Eddie’s run in with the well back in s3 affected Buck but the show didn’t really show us much of the impact beyond the episode in which it happened. The shooting was different. We have gotten tidbits of quiet reactions from Buck that I think are specifically related to the shooting (and of course is pinging things that came before and after).

In 502 when Eddie talks about the panic attacks, Buck suggests that it could be about the shooting and Eddie dismisses that. I couldn’t find the exact gif I wanted but Buck looked away like he needed to hide the fact that the shooting did indeed still affect him, even if Eddie claimed to be fine. It was like he was in a low-key version of “stow it away and save the next one” mode where Eddie was the next one in that case because of the panic attacks.

Then in 506 Buck is worried out of his mind about Eddie again. He spends the whole ambulance ride staring at Mitchell’s gun and then just waiting in the hospital for Eddie to make it out of the deadly situation alive. While he’s waiting he looked terrified most of the time but also like a man who was reminded of the shooting and his terror in that situation too. But he swallows it.

Eddie of course has a TON going on this season. I think Eddie is working his way up to talking about the shooting and hostage situation with Buck if Eddie’s conversation with Carla in 510 and his therapy session in 513 with Frank are any indication. Eddie’s going through a slow, measured, therapist-guided ascent from the depths of his pain. He’ll get to the shooting (and by extension the hostage situation) eventually I think but he’s not ready quite yet. There’s an order of operations and he’s working the problem.

Buck seems different. He’s stowed it away. Maybe he’s avoiding the hard topic for his own sake, or waiting for Eddie to be ready to process it with him, or both. Either way, Buck does seem personally invested in pretending like he’s fine. I mean - the man did say sometimes “I hide my true feelings from others” at the start of s4. He was leveled by the shooting in ways I don’t think he can quite put into words yet. On top of that, it’s like if he can’t start the conversation in terms of Eddie’s well-being first and foremost (rather than his own) then it’s not worth bringing up.

Buck mentioned the shooting in 514 but it was just a mention and expressly for the purpose of helping Eddie to see that he’d given Charlie a second chance. Even when Buck raised the issue of the shooting in a practical and focused way, he broke eye contact for a second and ducked his head way down in what seemed like intentionally non-threatening (and maybe guilty?) body language. It stood out to me because Buck is tall and takes up space but he seemed to be working hard not to in that moment. Like he wanted Eddie to know without a doubt that this wasn’t Buck’s time to feel his feelings about the shooting, but Eddie’s time to gain some healing perspective.

I would imagine that Buck still harbors feelings of fear, shame, and guilt over the shooting and then the hostage situation compounded that because he had to leave Eddie with Mitchell. I don’t think he feels like he’s allowed to be wrecked too over how afraid he was and how helpless he felt and over almost losing someone who means so damn much to him.

Even in 516 when Buck was worried about Bobby after the dispatch ceiling collapse, later at the hospital, something about the way Buck looked at Eddie while everyone was talking about Bobby how luck Bobby was made me think that conversation was probably talking about both Bobby and Eddie being lucky to be alive! Like Buck was taking that moment to acknowledge/celebrate Bobby’s new lease on life and bask in Eddie’s too!

All the moments above where it looked like Buck was actively swallowing or hiding his feelings for Eddie’s sake, they all stood out for me because I think that pattern of Buck pretending with Eddie has to break this season, just like Eddie’s pattern had to break with Buck.

I wonder if the Buck issue that some folks been predicted at the Henren vow renewal (thanks @stagefoureddiediaz & bts pics of white-shirt clad Buck!) will have something to do with Buck’s emotional dam breaking down and his trauma being forced to the surface! Perhaps a trigger event like cocktail sauce all over his perfect white shirt ?!?!?! Bonus points if Eddie causes this or sees this happen and has to whisk Buck away due to dissociation or a panic attack!

The last thing I want is for the Henren vow renewal to be highjacked by Buck’s feelings but I think there are some creative ways to have a moment where something happens with Buck and they have to at least broach the fact that there are unresolved shooting issues/feelings for Buck too, not just Eddie.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 meta #911 fox #incredibly cursory 911 spec about 5x18 lol

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bangtanfancamp · 3 years

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Try Again | KNJ

summary: Got guy trouble? Of course your best friend Namjoon is the perfect person to talk to about it. It just ... doesn’t go at all how you expect it to. Maybe that isn’t the worst thing though.

•masterlist

•one shot

•pairing: Kim Namjoon x Oc

•genre: best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, smut, fluff, comfort, slice of life

•word count: 11.5 k

•rating: MATURE (18+)

•warnings: oh quite a plethora today, friends. Language. Very much smut. Soft smut. Lots of heart and connection, but definitely very much smut. No way around that. Vaguely stream of consciousness in that there is a plot but IS there a real plot? I’m an INFP. Who knows. Also, idk, trauma processing? Mental Heath is a lot of work, friends. Anxiety. Fear? Dishonored boundaries. Sort of infidelity but not really? It’ll make sense when you read it. Sucky breakups and questionable relationship dynamics. Frank discussions of how freaking weird it can be to navigate sex, physical intimacy and relationships. hopefully heartfelt conclusions. astrology , loose mythology interpretations and Nikita gill poetry references. Super flirty friends who don’t realize they’re oversharing and super flirty until well after they’ve gone and become soulmates.

•authors note: I really don’t know what the flip this is, but I’ve been picking at it nonstop these last few days, and I really just want to post the dang thing to get it out of my Google docs and stop looking at it. It’s very much unedited and being published at 3am. We’re processing how hard being a human is a lot lately, and I really just think it would be easier with Namjoon as a friend

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“Namjoonie?”

With wide eyes, you swing around the doorframe of his studio, your half up ponytail swinging in tandem as you do.

He smiles at his screen, lips widening and dimples seeping into the soft dough of his cheeks as he laughs. He doesn’t look your way, but you know you have his attention.

“Yes, y/n?” he hums.

You feel yourself light up at the laughter in his voice when he says your name. He doesn’t seem like he’s bothered by your interruption in the slightest. In fact, He sounds rather...happy. Even you can easily tell. You’re so glad to see the warmth in his eyes, the easy chuckle in his shoulders and upturned twist in his lips. You feel your own grin swell with relief at the open way he welcomes you. It fills you with confidence enough to plunge ahead.

“Can I ask you something?” Your head tips sideways coyly as you watch him through your fluttered lashes.

“Aren’t you asking me something now?” He chuckles, leaning back in his seat with eyes fixed on his monitor screen.

“You know what I mean, Joonie,” you nudge your pointer finger deep into the well of his cheek. “I’m being serious,” you giggle.

“I can see that,” he flicks a sideways glance your way, mirth spilling from the corners of his full lips. “Well, C’mon then, out with it- what is it? Just ask me.” He acquiesces, looking up at you finally.

His brown eyes swim with camaraderie and warmth as he pulls you into his lap. You tumble down into him with an oof as his long arms wrap their way around you. You can feel his fingers along your waist, playing with the hem of your blousy crop top, occasionally brushing the skin beneath as you beam up at him. You feel both secure in his grip and happily flustered at his attention— it’s a delightful cocktail for a Tuesday afternoon really— both your smiles seem ever growing as his touch continues.

“Joonie, you’re gonna distract me,” you giggle as his button nose drags along your neck. It should be an odd occurrence, but it isn’t. It’s just you and Joonie.

“Like you’re distracting me?” He teases, voice deep as his warm breath tickles your skin.

“Touché. But I’m serious! So you have to give me a serious answer.” You enforce, gripping his shoulder firmly. He flexes his arm and you roll your eyes, even if some far off part of you loves every second of it.

“Ugh, fine.Okay. Okay. I’m here. I’m calm. I’m serious,” he nods firmly, clearing his throat, and pulling back into his seat, subtly pulling you with him until you’re bracing yourself against his solid chest. “See? We’re serious. Serious face.” He twists his face into a frown, dipping his brows and angling his chin until his jaw is clenched, tongue in his cheek in mock displeasure as you reach to happily tap the tip of his nose.

“Excellent. Yes. Focused. Let’s attempt this, shall we?” You wiggle to settle yourself, laughing when his hands immediately grasp your hips to still them. He cocks an eyebrow your way in warning, sharing a look only the two of you know, before smiling so wide his beautiful chocolate eyes fully disappear behind his eye crinkles. You both laugh happily, breezing easily past the moment, until Namjoon reigns his giggles in. Once again clearing his throat, he tips his head your way in instruction.

“Come on. What is it?” His eyes are still sparkling, but his face is now serene, studious even.

Smiling so wide you feel your cheeks begin to ache, you run delicate fingers through the bits of hair falling into his face. Your fingertips trace over his cheeks and across the full swell of his chest, sighing dreamily as you do so. How come affection always comes so easy with him?

“You’re simply the best, d’you know that?” You whisper, elation in your eyes.

He blushes, his happy face scrunching tight as he licks his lips and avoids your gaze. Burying his face in your collarbone he mumbles,”is that what you’re here to say?”

“No. In fact, not at all actually,” you giggle. “I just felt like telling you. Got a bit off topic once I got here, I guess.”

You dip to kiss the top of his swirled hair, lavender lychee and yuzu greeting you in unison in his freshly shampooed tresses. Scrumptious. He breathes soft through his nose in a happy exhale as you do, snuggling you close into his arms as you settle in his lap.

“How may I be of service, Jagiya?” He presses a soft, welcome kiss to the back of your hand before pulling back to meet your eyes. Such a silly boy.

“Okay, I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I have the oddest thing to ask you.”

“Okay, shoot.” He nods, licking his lips and concentrating on whatever it is you’re about to say next. You’re tempted to laugh at his sudden, eager composure, but you know it’ll only get you both further off track, so you swallow your giggles for now instead , hiding them somewhere precious and sweet until it’s time to properly collect them.

“Okay, here goes.”

Wistfully, you throw your arms lazily over his broad shoulders and look towards the light installation overhead, some modern, angular thing he had installed last year when he renovated the studio.

“So!” You begin, “things with the boy have been so much better the last few weeks.”

His eyes light up, “Yeah? Have they?” He smiles warmly when you nod. “Do we like this one?’

“Sort of? I think? I mean, I don’t quite know. It’s only been a handful of dates, but I think it’s going... good,” you assert.

“Y/n, that’s so good.”

“Right? Isn’t it?”

“I’m so happy for you. I’ve noticed your spirit’s seemed up lately. I was really hoping that was why,” he beams.

“Oh, you’re such a love, joonie.” Endeared that he noticed, you happily pinch his cheeks. Normally, he would shirk anyone else away immediately for doing such a thing, but his soft spot for you is unparalleled these days, so he refrains from disturbing you as you continue. “I was so worried a few weeks ago, Joon. Things felt like such a mess. I felt like such a mess, but did you know, Joon, this guy...he’s been so sweet. So good to me. It almost has me wondering, did you say something to him?” You squint inquisitively, bumping the tip of your nose against his. His grin flashes wider as he taps back against yours before kissing your cheek and pulling back to mime zipping his lips.

“Who me?” He mumbles through a closed mouth.

“Yes, you, silly.” You swat. “Who else knows me as well as you do? I didn’t think this dramatic a turnaround was possible. He’s so thoroughly improved after those first two bungling dates that it’s almost suspicious. You’re sure you haven’t given him a y/n 101 cheat sheet? How is he an honor student all of a sudden when he was on the verge of being expelled a few weeks ago?”

“Oh come now. Please, you were never going to expel him,” he challenges, leveling you with a look as his thumb glides its way along your rib cage. It makes you shiver, smile and pull him closer.

“Okay, okay, send him to summer school at least. Just a little remedial work…or detention, perhaps? I don’t know. Early Retrograde was really aggressive okay? Things were looking pretty grim.” You grimace with a shoulder shrug.

“In Gemini too. Miscommunication and frustration just rampant.” He makes mock explosions with his hands as you tip back abruptly in his lap. It makes you yelp before he’s leaning forward, scooping you securely against him and tutting in derision at you for your lack of faith in him. “Settle down. I always forget what a jumpy little bunny you are. You really think I was going to drop you?”

“I mean, I’ve seen you fall out of an office chair all on your own without my help, so yeah, it is a concern.”

“Touché. I always forget you know me that well. As you were saying,” he blushes, all six foot something of him turning sheepish as he does.

“Yes, I was. Where was I? Oh! The boy! Namjoon, you wouldn’t believe how thoughtful he’s been.”

“Really?”

“Goodness, yes. It’s been a rather miraculous turnabout altogether really. You told me to give it room to breathe, and I did, and all of a sudden we're flourishing now ” You beam.

“Wow, that really is something.” Namjoon’s happy for you. Really he is, but there’s something in his gut that feels the slightest bit… off. So he eyes you steadily as you talk, studying for the facial ticks that give you away when there’s something you still have to say.

Sure enough, he sees it there, lurking in the shadows swimming in the depths of your irises. It’s staying pretty far back, as if it believes it’s camouflaged deep enough behind your eyes that it’s successfully hiding from him. But he knows better. He knows you better.

He pauses to see if you’ll bring it up yourself, and when you don’t, he pushes ahead.

“So, how have things been in… you know… that other category,” he shirks, wishing he’d found a more graceful way to word that.

“What other… oh. You mean? Yes. That one,” you settle your grip on Joon’s firm shoulders, right in the dip between his collar and the rounded swell of muscle capping his shoulders off, “Well, you see, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Joonie. I needed to get another perspective.”

“Do tell.”

“Perfect. I need your perspective as a guy.” You nod.

“Do my best.”

“Joonie, do you ever get shy when you’re with a girl… you know, intimately?”

“Intimately? Now? No. When I was younger? Yeah, sure. Why?”

“Do you remember what you were you thinking...back then?” You tip forward, eyes all curiosity. His brows tip up, a bit surprised by how personal this is getting, but the two of you have very few things you keep off the table. He supposes it’s a fair question.

“Well, for me, at the time at least, I was probably thinking that a woman's body is honestly the most finely tuned, delicately crafted piece of technology in the entire world and as much as I wanted to literally dive face first into exploring it, I was kind of terrified of doing it wrong.” He shudders, wide eyed, as the anxiety of it ripples comically through his entire body.

“Huh, really? How wild. I mean, I guess that makes sense. What were you so afraid of though? Isn't it just a simple matter of questions and paying attention?” You cock your head sideways, half pony flopping to the side.

“I mean, sort of? But honestly, it’s also really complicated. It is just that, but it’s also a lot more than that. There are questions and there is paying attention, but you also have to get the timing and mood just right….You have to be connected with each other- which requires more emotional intelligence than you’d think, might I add….You have to be able to read her body language and predict her non verbal cues…Have to potentially be fluent as a therapist to help coach her through any lingering or buried trauma that might come up along the way.... Have to be her specific version of attractive and be authentically yourself all at once....

You have to seduce her, support her, please her, love her- be the leader, the guide and the recipient all in one. It’s a hell of a lot actually. And that’s all without even introducing any moral or spiritual implications. Don’t even get me started on all that- we’ll be here til nightfall. But yeah, it encompasses a lot on the guys' part, actually, to make it all worth your time and his. You can’t just be a good technician, you know. It’s not like being a good chef. It's not formulaic like a recipe. I mean, you can follow every pre-laid step and still get it wrong honestly. It’s intuitive and demanding, but really rewarding.. if you get it right...which is harder than you think. It’s honestly a lot more like being an empathic super hero. Even if you can read your partner inside and out, You have a job to get done too. The catch is that even if you read them and support them, you still might not accomplish your common goal together.”

“Jesus, joonie, so cerebral.” You tease, flicking his temple.

“It’s a curse, I know.” He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I mean, kind of not though. I love hearing your dissertations. They’re why I stopped by in the first place.”

“Did that help?”

“Sort of? I guess I hadn’t realized how much the guy has to account for. Maybe I’m being unfair.” You look so glum, so lost in thought as you process all that Namjoon has laid out before you. He made lots of points that you’d never actually considered before , and now you feel a bit dumb, or at the very least more naive than you would have thought before you knocked on his door. “Still. It’s just…I get..annoyed when this guy doesn’t lead. Like, in the moment, you know? It’s like he’s waiting on me and we both don’t know what to do, but I guess no one really teaches a guy how to huh?”

“Ooo God, no, that’s another topic altogether, but yeah, guys are expected to be these inherently prodigious, natural born love gods, even without having any sort of experience at all, but they’ll get judged if they do the research so it’s pretty lose-lose. That whole master class worth of intel I just mentioned is supposed to be considered the base level package, but no one gives any training or instruction so every guy’s just sort of jabbing around in the dark by himself, hoping for the best... it’s a lot of pressure, honestly. But this is all predicated on him being a good guy who’s actually worth your time and really values you trying his best. There are so many others who have zero self awareness who just cause more harm while legitimately having no clue, and beyond that, the shitty ones who are just selfish and awful with an awareness of it.” His face scrunches as he really sits back and lets it wash over him. He mindlessly runs his fingers over your hips as he processes it all.

“So, are women wrong to think the right man for them will inherently be able to read them? Or that, if he can’t get it right, that maybe he’s not the one for them?” When your eyes meet his, there’s so much vulnerability shining in them that Namjoon feels like he’s looking directly at the sun. You look beautiful and unguarded, and some part of him hates that this guy has disappointed you. “Anytime it doesn’t go smoothly, I wonder if I don’t like that particular act or if it’s just my partner and then I feel like I’m putting too much pressure on him or like I’ve drank too much of the mass media expectations kool-aid. Whatever the reason is, I feel lousy all around.” You confess with chagrin.

Namjoon lets out a low whistle as he takes the thought in. “You know, I’ve had a lot of good friends be … relieved of their title, if you will... for things like that. I don’t really know the answer if I’m being honest. I think yes, your ideal partner should be sexually compatible with you, or at the very least have good physical chemistry with you, but no ones a complete mind reader. Even if you're perfectly matched in the stars and on every compatibility platform, that still doesn’t account for individual personal preferences, dialects of love languages, life experience or individual traumas...”

“Phew, that's a lot,” you scrunch your face in distress.

“I know, right? It’s a crazy amount of factors to keep in mind all in all, especially considering that the heart of it should be organic and intrinsic. It’s hard to stay in your body and out of your head with all that, but at least there’s naked tits involved, so there’s sort of that, right?” He shrugs cheekily, tongue out as you smack him.

“I told you to be serious!” you laugh.

“I am! Bare tits are a seriously soothing motivator for a stressed out guy who wants to pleasure you. I mean, think about it- he’s under the pressure of trying to both avoid accidentally blowing his load prematurely and disappointing you by not being man enough and avoiding accidentally getting you pregnant or getting lost in his own experience by being too much. And this is all of he’s a good guy who actually cares about you. There are so many more messed up motivations if he’s only in it for himself,” Namjoon shudders. “Ultimately, sex is supposed to be this penultimate pleasure, yes, but the stakes are, in fact, outrageously high if you really think about it.” His eyes go a bit wide.

“Crikey, that’s rough.” You cringe. He snickers at your phrasing and you smack him away as you tell him to shut up. “Anyway do you think all that is why the boy’s been acting up as of late?”

“How so?”

“Did I ever tell you he’s a Scorpio?”

“Oh yeah? Wait—One who doesn’t ravage you on the daily? Really?”

“Yeah. I know. It’s a weird thing to wrap your head around isn’t it? He’s a Scorpio with a ton of Virgo in his chart actually.”

“Oh you’re joking. So he’s the inverse of me?” He’s not sure if that’s actually how astrology works, but it’s too similar not to be alarming. He wonders why his heartbeat quickens at the idea of you liking someone similar to him in any way. It’s dumb. He already knows how compatible you and he are. It’s why you’re currently sitting in his lap asking him to help solve your guy problems. Still though...

“Yyyyup. Precisely.” You quip, popping the p, and he tries to refocus.

“Ooof okay, so we’re dealing with... a Perfectionist, yes?” He looks to you for guidance, settling into a smile when you nod in assent. “Yes. Probably also absurdly talented, thinks he’s a planner but really, just likes to be the boss. Likes things to be in order and… supposedly a beast in the sack.” He adds with a little swell of confidence. He’s on the cusp of a wink when you interrupt him.

“Ah, see now that’s the bit we need to discuss.” You tap his pec.

“Does he have an unsatisfactory bit?” His brows rise dramatically. He makes air quotes with one hand as his eyes drop to his own hips, currently housing you as a chair, and rolling them up so you bounce where you sit. You giggle and blush and swat at him, telling him to focus.

“Well, that’s the thing, I don’t actually know. Because he never seems to use it.”

“Hmm. A real sticky spot huh? I really wish I could help, but Every man is so different, even with astrological similarities. I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” He offers honestly, his brows tipping softly with chagrin.

“I know, but I’ll take any advice you have for me. I mean, Joonie, I’ve been so pretty lately, and he’s not even trying to get some of me. He barely even comments about me!” You whine.

“Really?” Namjoon seems a bit flabbergasted, his beautiful features painted in shock.

“Really really.”

“But you’ve been such a babe lately! Your whole ‘hot girl summer’ manifesto really has you radiating these days,”’he offers.

“Thank you,” you beam, flipping your hair over your shoulders.

“I mean, you’ve been working really hard to take care of yourself— I can see the difference in your pretty little face.” He runs a thumb beneath the natural curve of your cheek to emphasize his point. “And Your boobs have looked beautiful lately, might I add. So soft, so full.”

“Awww, you’ve noticed?”

“I have. I mean, You’ve been going braless around the apartment on the regular these past few weeks— and they’ve got such great movement, they’re hard to ignore, really.” He’s really stretching the boundaries of his best friend card right now and he knows that, but it is true. Lucky for him, you’re too busy being glad someone finally noticed to be upset about any lines he might be crossing. He’s so emboldened by it that he decides to press his luck just a little bit further. “May I?”

He extends a hand to hover above your chest and you bristle with delight.

“Oh please do, Joonie. Someone ought to be enjoying these marvelous splendors.” You shake your head annoyed, but preen with happiness when he follows through.

Carefully, Namjoon reaches to grasp one over your shirt, his massive palm gentle as he does. He looks a little in awe at the way the malleable orb morphs and reshapes itself against his hand.

“Splendor’s a great word for them. They’re sort of thing poets could fill whole books about. How is he not enamored by them? I’d bury my face between them and never come up for air.” He states plainly, eyeing them like a soft place to land.

“See that’s what I thought too. Not to be arrogant or anything but—“

“Confidence is not arrogance,” he corrects.”You’ve worked hard to be nice to yourself. Give yourself a compliment every once in a while.” He reluctantly lets go of your breast, and shoves his shoulders up in an easy generous gesture encouraging you to move ahead, so you do.

“Thank you, joonie. I just… I can see my progress. I was mean to myself for such a long time, but even I can tell I’m getting prettier and prettier these days, and he’s even admitted, himself just how soft and warm I feel.”

“So what’s the problem then?” Joon looks bemused as he strokes the newfound definition in your thighs from all your recent cardio workouts. “It can’t possibly be that he doesn’t like your outside because your figure these days is INSANE.” He clutches a massive hand against the apex of your thigh for emphasis, swallowing back a growl when his grip meets the muscle you hide beneath your softness there.

“Joon, you’re such a flirt,” you bat his hands away, hiding your face instead.

“You’re such a delight- I’d be a fool not to be,” he shrugs, hoping he’s doing a good job of hiding how genuine all this affection really is.

“Well, tell him. He keeps psyching himself out.”

“Yeah? How so?” He asks, genuinely inquisitive as he slips down and settles in his chair, careful to hold you steady as he gets settled.

“I know how bad he wants me. I can feel his… you know,... growing against me when we kiss, or twitching when it gets stimulated… but it’s like he keeps taking his foot off the accelerator and we never get anywhere.Like maybe he doesn’t really...” want me are the words you’re too afraid to say.

Namjoon’s brows fold and dip. “What do you mean? What happens?” He tenderly brushes his fingers over the fold of your hip as he listens.

“I mean, he’ll make these offhanded comments that I can tell are actually 100% genuine—I mean they aren't even remotely subtle— about the way he very much wants me in his bed, but the second I reciprocate or even lean in and let him initiate, he almost immediately pulls himself back.” You wave your hands, baffled.

“Like how so? Can you show me?” He wonders what’s gotten into him, why he keeps pushing to see how far you’ll let him go with this. Maybe the heat’s getting to him. Whatever his reasons, you seem too preoccupied with the problem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. He chalks it up to your absurdly high level of physical comfort with him after years of living together, if he had to guess, because you follow through with his request without a second thought.

“Sure. Here. It always winds up going something like this…”

You lean forward, turning your performer on and eying him a wickedly gleeful sparkle in your eyes, tongue running over your teeth ,”God, I just want to impregnate you right now,” you pant, one hand twisting the bunched fabric of his t-shirt as you drag your nose against his. You can feel his breath hitch through his open mouth despite the sarcasm that spills from it.

“I’m not sure that’s how this works actually …. anatomically.” He corrects, even as his palms shift to grip the arms of his chair, his natural preemptive response to brace himself when he can tell you’re about to rile him up.

“Don’t be snarky, Joonie, you know I don’t have the patience for that,” you warn as your open mouth dips to the column of his throat. You drag your lips across it, disconnecting your brain to dive in with gusto, skimming along the warmth of his honeysuckle skin and revelling in it. You never kiss him, just hover, but your hands grow more insistent as your breath glides over his neck, only to reach his mouth again and fully decelerate, abruptly and with no explanation.

Your kiss his cheek disheartenedly, your touch devolving into something slow and sentimental, borderline regretful as you begin to fully pull away. You cap it all off by kissing his nose once and placing an oddly mature, smacking peck to his confused mouth for half an instant, but when he looks up at you, you keep smiling fully, blissfully—even into the edges of your eyes— as you pull away, as though all is right. Everything about your body language signals that the moment is done before it ever began by pulling him deeply into a plush, platonic hug, wrapping your arms smoothly around his shoulders and rubbing his back.

Namjoon’s woozy, baffled face is pressed against your neck in this embrace until only his inquisitive eyes are visible. He glances at you sideways even though all he can see is your hair.

“Seriously? That’s what he’ll do?” His voice comes muffled through the fabric of your blousy top, but his confusion is evident regardless.

“More or less. Honestly maybe a little less,’ you smile grimly. “i jazzed it up a little for the show.’

“Oh Jesus. And then he’ll just… stop like that and stare at you like a marionette doll, and you’re supposed to be okay with it?”

He hasn’t felt this befuddled in ages. You flop back in his lap, abruptly releasing him. He adjusts his jaw with his hand to soothe the way it’d been yanked around in your grip.

“Apparently,” you flail.

“Bizarre. Okay. We’ll circle back. But… let’s unpack this first: don’t you hate neck kisses as foreplay? You mentioned that before: how many guys have slobbered all over your throat like they thought it was hot and you just .. felt like a dog toy, right?

“Yes, yes, yes, to all of the above,” you sigh.

“But…help me understand. You’ve told him that right?

“Several times. Before I ever dated him actually.”

“So shouldn't he know?”

“I know.” You nod.

“Don’t you hate hickeys?”

“I. Do. Yes,” you clap between phrases for emphasis, grateful Namjoon gets it.

“The only time it ever seemed like something you might have been into was that one Fourth of July party. You know, the one where we both had too many strawberry margaritas and I,” he clears his throat.“Well, I mean, you almost beat me with a spatula when you realized I’d left one without checking with you first.”

Your belly pools with something molten at the memory. Namjoon had surprised both of you that night when he’d leaned over beside you where you both sat in the grass and begun kissing your throat. You’d been surprised, but Namjoon had always been sweet and good to you and was apparently, good with that full mouth of his as you’d learned that night, so you hadn’t stopped him.

The problem was that any pleasure you’d had had been immediately eclipsed by your fearful realization, even in your hazy margarita brain, that you had work the next morning, it was summer and you wouldn’t have sufficient makeup or clothes to cover it up. Not to mention how hideously unprofessional a hickey like that would have been to the manager who already hated you at the time. You were already the low point on the totem pole. You didn’t need any help and besides, a neck hickey at an office job wasn’t going to fly. What were you, sixteen? You’d made Namjoon pay for your concealer the next morning and had teased him for his drunk behavior constantly ever since. You just never bothered to tell him that no one else had ever managed to affect you quite like him… before or since.

Clearing your throat, you bundle the memory up and swiftly put it back up on the top shelf.“That I did. But when you did it, and even in the past the one time he did it, it had at least been pleasurable, you know? I could feel your tongue and the suction…. it was something I could melt into. Turn my brain off. But now, He does this weird thing where his lips get really articulate, and there’s no tongue. Like zero tongue. He’s just jabbing at my throat with these, like, lip fingers, and Somehow, he doesn’t pick up on my aversion. Like I’m literally retreating from him like a turtle into my shell, and it’s just so unpleasant. But I mean, I’ve already verbally told him I don’t like it and I pull away, so I don’t know what there’s left for me to do.” You huff all in one breath.

“Just like those other things you told him you don’t like?” Namjoon offers, a glum smile painting his lips.

“Yeah…. “

“Is he still not getting those boundaries either?” He says sadly, not for his sake but for yours.

You sigh, irritated in every way. “No, he’s not. I’m getting so annoyed with it all, really. I keep telling him what my preferences are, and he just keeps acting like I haven’t said anything but seems stumped when I leave an interaction with him being kind of bitchy.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I get really passive aggressive with him, and the night just... tanks.” You lean into Namjoon’s chest, resting your cheek beside his neck. “But I mean, what else is left when he ignores direct communication? It’s infuriating,” You gesture glumly with swirling hands.

“So, you’re sure you’ve laid it all out for him?”

Your anger flares at his accusation. Whipping your head toward him, you can feel magma rising up your throat, fully on the brink of lashing out at him.

“What kind of question… of course I Ha-“

But the second you see his eyes, you remember who he is. Who you’re talking to. You remember that Namjoon would never accuse you, he’s simply asking you a question- there’s nothing loaded behind it. Raking your hands over your eyes, you apologize.

“I’m sorry…. I don’t know what came over me… this topic just makes me mad…. I forgot…”

“Shhhh,” he cradles your face, thumbs light across your skin. “Hey, look at me.”

When your eyes meet his, Namjoon’s soft brown eyes do nothing but smile back at you. The look in them is gentle and warm and you know he’s about to say something wise.

“His words and touches are confusing you, aren’t they?” He offers with a sad smile. One so comforting that all you can bring yourself to do is nod back to him. “It sounds like- from my outside perspective here- that You feel like you don’t have clarity on what’s happening to your emotions or your body. Which sounds pretty shitty honestly. I know you, Y/n. The signals this guy is giving you are all over the place, but at the end of the day, all of them wind up making you feel disrespected and undesired, and you especially need to be respected and desired.”

You drop your head and sigh. “I don’t know why it’s so strong though. I feel crazy. I feel like I ask him all the time to tell me if he thinks I’m pretty because he won’t do it on his own.”

“That frustrates you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really does. It took me such a long time to get my confidence back after the last guy. I finally realized I’m worth being fawned over. I’m not perfection, but I am well and above deserving having someone at least verbally appreciate me. I can be absolutely stunning when I want to be. And his disinterest, or even worse, his moderate interest infuriates me.” You look down ashamed.

“Why is that, you think, baby girl?” Namjoon hooks a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you’re looking back at him.

“Because I hate being ignored.” You answer honestly, and it surprises you.

“There it is. Why do you think that is?”

“Because I’m stunning! And really smart! And really talented! And beautiful!” Your eyes bounce around the room as you try to focus. “Because…. because… maybe I’m settling… or maybe I picked wrong again by accident and am continuing that same dumb cycle again without knowing it.” Your voice is defeated as your shoulders cave in.

“What do you mean? What cycle?” Namjoon is playing with your hair, running his fingers through the knots and tangles of it in the most gentle way.

“Of… damn, this sounds so Freudian, but I always pick these people I have to prove myself to. I went overboard all my life trying to be the prettiest and the best or the most special, but it never seemed like enough. Now I know I’m enough all on my own, but I still keep ending up with these people who don’t seem to see it. Which is infuriating and it’s… it’s all a mess. Dear god, there’s so much to unpack in all that.”

You look up at Namjoon in distress. Not only is it flashing in your irises but it’s evident in the way your body clenches and tightens itself.

“Hey, hey hey, woah…. breathe for me. We’ll address all of that in a second, but let’s take care of you first okay? Your body is practically screaming right now, you’re so tense. I can feel it. Let’s get you comfortable, okay? Is your body in any distress?” He asks as he gently helps you to stand before rising himself.

You want to laugh at him for how clinical he sounds, but honestly, he’s right. You can feel this whole situation in your body, and it’s starting to mess with you. When he scoops you into his side, you let him. You always forget how tall he is. How comforting the shelter of his hugs are.

“The bridge of my nose is tingling again, like the beginning of an awful migraine.” Your gaze flits up to his. Namjoon brushes soft fingertips over the bridge of your nose.

“Here?”

“Yeah,” you nod softly.

“Anywhere else?”

You take a moment to assess.

“My whole face is frowning. My brows, my jaw, my teeth- they’re all tight. I think I’ve been holding my breath without realizing it again. My whole body is clenched from my neck to my toes. Has been since I woke up,” you realize.

“All right, well, we’ll start with all of those.” He smiles warmly. Bending, he presses a featherlight kiss to the bridge of your nose before tangling his fingers with yours and leading you to the corner of the studio as you follow. There’s a bemused smile swirling on your lips that’s overrun with fondness for him and his caring touches. You dip your head and grin as he tugs you along.

─────────────────────

You’ve always loved his studio office. So tranquil and peaceful. So perfectly curated for comfort. He fishes a remote out of the pocket of his cargo pants (the ones that you always tease him for since he’s the only man in world who could pull them off) and dims the main lights until all that’s left is the ambient glow of a few soft cartoon lamps and the massive Himalayan salt rock he purchased in Brazil.

It’s a beautifully sunny summer day outside, but his windows are lined by so many trees that the lighting is indirect, never harsh. He pulls you to sit beside him on his luscious futon. The cushions have always felt more like clouds than it made any sense for them to. The sofa’s wedged in a corner by the open windows with a leafy view of Namjoon’s favorite park. The curtains flutter in the breeze as you settle beside him, the warm scent of early summer tickling your nose for once instead of the frazzled bursting of little nerves behind your sinuses.

The happy trickle of his tiny indoor fountain laughs beneath the window. It’s surrounded by his collection of amethyst crystals, placed to diffuse tension and bask in moonlight. The sound of the water soothes you as Namjoon moves to pull his shirt overhead.

“Namjoon, what are you do-“

“Just trust me. I want to try something.” His eyes are incredibly warm. It’s the kind of gaze that lets you know absolutely everything will be alright, no matter how unorthodox the road to get there is about to be. “Skin to skin contact is supposed to help soothe anxiety. It always seems to help calm you down when I hold you so I thought…”

“Oh. You want to ...oh.” For the first time all day, you flush, wide eyed as you take him in.

“No, not fully skin to skin… just like, our torsos maybe? If that would be okay?” He searches your eyes, waiting for permission. It’s not a thing you ever anticipated happening when you entered his studio today, but as your gazes stay fixed on one another, you realize the idea sounds really… nice.

“Yeah, that would be okay.” Your breath comes out as a whisper, and his dimples suddenly reappear. Gently, without a word, he reaches beneath your floaty crop top to unclip your bra, pausing in surprise when he meets the bare skin along your ribs instead.

“Oh… I didn’t fully realize…” he swallows. “I thought maybe you just had one of your soft ones on today. Your body doesn’t usually get this tense unless you have one of your really tight sporty ones on. This guy’s really got you stressed out, huh?” His face is a picture of nothing but genuine concern.

Tenderly, Namjoon traces along your skin and lifts your blousy top up over your head, guiding you to lean into him. Skin to skin. It really is… nice. He was right. It really does help calm your anxiety.

Once you’re settled against him, he taps another button on the remote, one that allows the futon to extend. Not quite flat but elongated and dipped back at enough of an angle that you’re both reclined. The pillows are soft, the leather beneath you both worn in and cool. Warmed just enough by the sun to be pleasant. You breathe in a burst of clean air as the plants in his studio refresh the space, healing any tension in the air.

Between the babbling little brook, the fresh breeze, the soft fabrics and the indirect warmth of a lazy sun and a warm solid body surrounding you, you realize Namjoon has pulled out every trick in his book to smooth your nerves. The lavender he’s put on his pulse points swirls in your nose as his fingers swirl in your hair and glide down your spine, and suddenly, it feels safe to breathe again.

He seems to sense it- the moment when your body begins to unwind beside him.

“Would you like to talk about it again?” He asks, brushing his cheek against the top of your hair. You take a moment to sigh before you answer.

“You know, I feel like I probably should, but I’m so scared it’s going to get me all riled up again, and I don’t want that, Joonie. I really don’t. I just want to lay here with you and have things be peaceful.” You sigh, pressing your lips against the skin on his golden chest. You sink into him, inhaling the natural sweetness of his skin.

“Well, how about this, then? Instead of listing out all that’s bothering you, or all you’re scared of, the cycles you fear, maybe…. maybe we focus on what you do want instead. What you’re longing for. Focus on what fills you up… or what you’d like to.”

Sniffling, you nuzzle into his skin.

“Was that supposed to be a euphemism or did it just happen that way?” It only takes a glance up at his … yep… blushing face to know that it wasn’t intentional, and that warms your heart in untold ways. Perhaps it’s better that way.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you slip it out to see an Audio message.. from him.

“Oh cripes. It’s him.”

You deflate, feeling your ribs sink in all the way until they’ve met your spine. You look up at him, a balloon that’s lost all its air.

“You can play it- go ahead. I got you. I’m right here with you.”

Sighing, you turn on the speaker and listen in tandem with Namjoon, shocked altogether when you get the news.

“He wants to cancel our next date,” you whisper. As the message trails on, something about how ‘maybe we just shouldn’t see each other at all after that actually’ and something about ‘not being compatible but it’s not your fault,’ realization dawns on you.

“Is he... breaking up with me? Through an audio message?” Your eyes flit up to Namjoon’s in distress.

“That piece of… I’m so sorry, y/n.” His brows have scooped upside down into sad tilted u’s and it’s all the confirmation you need to know that the last minute and thirty seconds were not in fact a terrible dream and were indeed a terribly unpleasant reality.

“This is the strangest day. I know I really shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like it really had been going on long enough to even be a proper relationship— it’s barely been a month. Besides, I spent the whole afternoon making a verbal pros and cons list about him with another guy, so its not like it was going great but,...I mean, I know part of me knew I probably just needed to let this all go, but I just didn’t expect...” your incoherencies babble themselves into silence as Namjoon rubs the back of your shoulders. It reminds you where you are, how you're currently configured, and it makes you feel a bit swimmy.

Looking down at the way you're currently laying bare tits to pecs with your best friend, you become very aware that this was probably for the best, but that doesn't make the nastiness of it hurt any less. An audio message? Really?

“I hate this for you,” Namjoon’s voice is a jumble of gravel and disappointment. “I’m sorry he was such a douchebag about this.’

‘Thanks, Joonie. It can’t be helped now. I guess…I just wish I knew what to do. Because I definitely don’t,” you shake your head.

Namjoom does though, scooping the phone out of your hand and clicking it shut, he pulls you closer as a fresh breeze ruffles the leaves of his peace lily near the window.

“Step one, lean into the friends you have who do show up until you find the guy who does,” he strokes the peachy fuzz along your upper arm and kisses your temple sweetly.

“But how do you know which ones those are? They all seem that way from the start,” you sigh, sinking into him.

Dragging a finger along his ribs, you count the dips you feel, wondering how many ridges it takes to protect the fragile thing in our chests.

“Hmm. True. But if I know anything about you, it’s that you have the most sensitive intuition of anyone I’ve ever met. It’s so pure, so true, and it never lies to you. You know, there are cultures that think it’s the work of divine feminine energy. I don’t know if that’s true, but you’ve always seemed to have a bit of a goddess appeal to you. I think it suits you. You just have to trust it.”

He nudges your charmingly disheveled hair with his nose, and you breathe a happy scoff into his skin.

“I’m not sure what your well placed flattery has to do with this one, but I’ll bite for once, Nikita Gill. Carry on,” you twist in his arms until your back rests against his front, and you’re sitting between his legs. His fingers come to drag across the skin just above the ribbon cinched waist band on your floaty shorts as you reach above you to loop behind his head. You absentmindedly tangle your fingers in his lavender tresses while the warmth of his skin and rhythm of his breathing rock you gently.

“Funny you should mention her. You’re a bit like her modern Aphrodite, you know.”

“How so?” You bump your forehead against his sculpted chin.

“I mean that one passage. About how the goddess of love and desire had mended so many of her wounds. She’d adapted and settled into herself, overcome all the envy and control she used to thrive off of, but she still felt alone. Until she was invited to a dinner party with the other women of Olympus and realized how loving and welcoming it was to be supported by others as friends and not enemies.”

You nodded, lowering your arms to drape them over top of his and trace his forearms.

“I remember that one. It was one of my favorites in that book. I’d been so excited to show you.”

“I think my lovely Aphrodite needs that.”

“I thought I was your Persephone?” You look up.” I’ve always related to her.”

“You are. Besides the obvious similarities with her complications with Demeter, when you’re glowing, you really are the personification of spring. For this analogy though, even though Persephone is regal in her own way, you’ve always had something of Venus about you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, eyes warm and voice mellowed to soothe. “If you really think about it, you’re a lot like Aphrodite in that poem. She had so many wounded relationships, and you’ve sustained such deep wounds that you’re constantly seeking ways to heal them. And You’ve healed yourself so much already- which im so proud of you for, by the way-“ he kisses your forehead as your lashes flutter shut. “But I think you need a nest like that. A place to rest filled with people who will nourish and nurture you. A place to land while you heal the rest.”

“That sounds lovely,” you sigh,”but I haven’t the slightest idea where to find it.”

Namjoon smooths his palms over the tops of your thighs, his thumbs dragging over the splashes of freckles he finds there.

“I don’t think it’s a place you have to search for. I think it’s a thing you open yourself up to. An energy you receive when you emit it.”

“Like, putting out what I want to receive?”

“Mmm, hmm,” he nods as his ring finger sketches out Orion’s Belt between your freckles. “That guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, but that’s not your fault. There’s someone for you, if that’s what you want. Someone who’ll notice how more than enough you are. Promise. Just don’t force it. Don’t hunt it down or seek it out. Just let good come to you. It will find you when you’re ready for it if you prepare to welcome it.”

You feel tension in the joints of your shoulders lessen in relief at his suggestion. You hadn’t known you were gripping your muscle there, or that you even could. Tipping your head back into his bare shoulder, you begin to relax.

“When are they gonna give you a talk show, Joonie?” You smile.

“I mean, I’d settle for a podcast, but my advice account is actually viral on TikTok. Did you not know? How do you think I afford my share of the apartment?”

“You know, I never thought about it, but that makes perfect sense,” you laugh softly. You realize then that there’s remnants of salt on your cheeks. You hadn’t realized that guy had made you cry. Sighing, you nestle deeper in Namjoon.

“So, back to the sage advice, do you really mean I don’t have to work super hard and seek out a good relationship?”

“No, I don’t think so at all. See that’s the tricky part about that passage. I think it could be interpreted that she needed that all along, and it was Aphrodite’s fault for not seeking it out eons ago. It would be easy for the reader to focus on it as something Aphrodite’s done wrong, but I don’t think that’s the point.” He furrows his brows in a pleasant sort of focus. The kind that makes you just want to watch his beautiful brain formulate the way it does.

“You don’t?”

“No. I think that misses the point altogether. The legends of her in the ancient world were set in a backdrop where things were fueled by pettiness. So many male gods in the pantheon were self interested and vicious. She learned to play hardball, and did what she had to do. She didn’t have a confidant to keep her soft. But this poem takes place with an older Aphrodite. One seasoned by time, who no longer needs to prove anything. She’s tired and open, and non-competitive. She knows who she is and has no envy. She’s healed a lot of her relationship wounds and now she just needs to let the people in who are going to love and accept who she’s become. You know, People who won’t try to judge her, or use or forget her or belittle her. People who wont judge her for who she used to be but will accept for who she is….Because it’s finally the right time for that kind of genuine connection.”

You love how analytical his mind is.

“So does that mean you think I’ll find it? Or that it’ll find me rather?” You sneak a glance up at him.

“Yeah, I do.” Something in his heart swells. It makes his eyes feel hazy as he stuffs his crush for you into the background like cheese into the crust of a pizza. You’d never know unless you pulled it apart.

You take his hand in yours, tracing a finger along the crackled fissures lining the inside of his palm, and sit in the silence with him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“What do I do… If, say, I was already in good hands all along and totally missed it?”

“Hmm?” He feels his pulse spike along his throat.

Twisting sideways between his legs, you wrap your arms around him. “Joonie, I mean you. We take good care of each other, don’t we?”

His massive hands are fitted to your skin. Slowly, he sinks his palms into your ribs, pressing in firmly as your breath catches. “Yeah,” he whispers, caramel deep. “I think we do.”

“Namjoon, would… it be weird if I tried something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” his brow scrunches. He’s not fully tracking where this is going, but he’s along for the ride.

Slipping a hand around the curve of his cheek, you turn him to face you. Your smile is warm and lovely with melancholy. “I think I’d like to sink into where I am right now. With you.” Your eyes look between his, and Namjoon feels himself collapse in happy relief when you pull him down into your lips. One of his hands finds its way to your face as the other traces secrets into your skin, and he realizes all at once that kissing you feels like coming home.

━━━��━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This is how the version of you and Namjoon that had always been best friends slips into the beginnings of the version of you and Namjoon that will fall deeply in love.

His hands slide to curve and cup the bottom of your breasts as they fill his palms like water in a cup, and his fingers splay to catch them. The veins rise beneath his skin, but his touch is still velvet against your skin. He lowers himself to whisper caramel thick in your ear.

You shudder as his plush lips graze your skin, and something in you feels like you’re breathing for perhaps the first time. Your face presses into his neck as your hands search for purchase across the tops of his absurdly sculptured legs.

He’s loving and warm and everywhere and your nerves are all lit up. Not in alarm or even in alert. More like in the way a coral reef glows with luminescence when things are balanced and in order. The way nature warms like a halo when it’s in harmony with itself.

Namjoon guides you against his body, precious and safe. His right palm continues to mold into the softness of you as his left unravels from your touch to drag its way up to the waistband of your flouncy shorts. His bottom lip catches in his teeth when his ever observant eyes notice the satin bow looped and tied at your waist. You watch transfixed as he delicately unties the bow, letting the ribbon flutter loose between your thighs.

He stays there, molding to the swells of you, his eyes filled with wonder as he smiles at you. His own breathing is shaky and wrecked and out of sync with you as his chest crashes against your back and his fingers sink deep into your skin. You feel your head loll back, rolling against the curve of his shoulder, pressed against the swelling of his newly sculpted biceps. The beauty etched into his sinew enchants you. You lose yourself, preoccupied as your eyes trace the musculature running in rivers down his arms. When he catches you, stupefied and gaping at him, he flexes and chuckles under his breath at the way he feels your thighs tremble under his hands when you see the muscle shift.

Namjoon runs his tongue over his teeth, genuinely overcome with affection for you, at the joy of tumbling into this with someone who knows him so well. Someone he’s so eager to love. Because he is. He knows it’s too soon to tell you, but he’s loved you for a long time. He’s not sure when it started or how he thought it was ever going to work out, but somehow he’s ended up here, pressed skin to skin and heart to heart with you. So as long as you're here right now, in his lap and in his arms, he’s going to love you.

He could stay in this moment with you forever.

He catches a glimpse of the way your shut lashes flutter when he pulls you against him, how your beautiful brows pinch together. It strikes him then how much he can’t wait to slip his tongue into your full, open mouth so he does. The kisses between you are luxurious in a way he’s never known before as you sink into him in the soundproofed walls of his studio.

Whatever you are to each other is for you and Namjoon to know, and no one else. Not yet. He’ll share you with the whole world once he can. For now, whatever this is, it’s just yours and his. His heart warms as he looks at you, admiring the soft heart that guides you through this life. It’s such a complex thing, so often at odds with itself. He’d like nothing more than to be it’s resting place.

As your eyes begin to flutter open, Namjoon realizes he’d really love for this to be a regular thing.

“You’re amazing.” He whispers, nose to nose with you. He smiles then, eyes happily crinkled around the edges. He can practically feel the way you preen at his praise, body unfolding into something pliant and soft at his encouragement, the complete opposite of its earlier tension. “Have I told you that yet?”

You nod “no” breathlessly, biting your lip and keening into his touch as both his hands slip to hold you against the plump flesh of your outer thighs. You palm his rounded arms and lean against him, lightheaded, happy, limp, and smiling.

Namjoon can’t help but smile into the next kiss as he marvels at you and your beautiful contradictions. Your startling confidence and your deeply soft heart. Your playful banter and your sincere words. Your bravado and your genuine, sensitive kindness. You’re innocence and temptation held in perfect, chaotic balance in one soft, feminine body, like a cosmic vinaigrette that made no sense but tasted delicious nonetheless. It makes him want to dip you in honey and dissolve into the sky.

His fingers are light as they skim across your skin and you hold your breath, releasing it in a shuddery exhale together as your bodies roll together.

“Baby girl.” The words float just outside your consciousness as your skin warms with his breath.

Your body has switched to autopilot, and you’re grateful not to have to control your responses to him. Your hips feel loose, bones replaced instead with something fluid. You feel yourself move with him in gradual tandem rather than consciously orchestrating it. His hands are so big, so rough, so sturdy. It makes you feel a little drunk to know someone so beautiful is caressing you. Someone who truly cares for all of you.

Namjoon tips your face with his, dipping into your mouth to fill the chasm with his welcome, fluid tongue. You fizzle with warmth as you melt with him. With your hands clamped to his legs, his between yours and his tongue in your mouth, you wish you had enough extra air to laugh but you don’t. Instead, you feel the extra joy with no place to go making your body feel as if it’s lifting into the air, like you’re astral projecting . Your brain flickers on for just a second as it tries to process all this euphoria, but you find yourself unable to handle it before the bulb flickers out again, overwhelmed by it all.

Another time perhaps.

In this time and reality, Namjoon’s long fingers swirl lazy and soft across your skin, steady but firm. Your hips glide with him and the moment is perfectly paced- slow but satiating. When your hips kant in tandem he shifts his palm to paw softly at the doughy flesh of your chest, in awe of how beautiful they are spilling out of his hands. Namjoon breaks the kiss to watch you, his forehead against yours as he exhales, dizzy and happy.

You love that. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are glittering and wild. His smile is so tender, so full of something so like love, and you wonder why you never realized you could have had this sort of beautiful experience with him.

“Hey you,” he whispers, tipping his nose into yours, and brushing against the sparkling piercing in your button nose.

You think you might love it when he says that to you. Love the way he puts you at ease. That’s the thing with Namjoon, there’s never pressure or a need for performance or fear. You realize you haven’t been anxious once in this whole exchange. It almost makes you want to sing. You’re so elated you could cry when his warm voice has your senses swimming.

“I know you said before that you don’t always like this, so I’m asking: this once, can I taste your skin? Can I mark you please?” His nose is pressed beneath your ear, panting as his hand splays across your collarbone. “It’s okay if you don’t. You can say no if you—”

“Yes. Oh my… god, yes.”

With a relieved exhale, he dips to kiss your throat like he had that day of the Fourth of July picnic, and you sink into him. Your nails bury into his thighs as he suckles warm and wet at your neck. Namjoon’s mouth is open, breath warm and pressure firm as he drags a steady tongue over your pulse.

It feels … amazing. You realize then that it isn’t that you don’t like neck kisses in general, it’s that you just didn’t see the point in neck kisses that didn’t feel like this. Because in all honesty, Namjoon’s lips on your neck make you feel like maybe you’ve ascended to some astral plane normal mortals aren’t meant to find out about, but he’s taken you there anyway, and a part of you realizes no other man ever had a chance. Maybe that Fourth of July with him all those years ago really did skew your standards. Because right now, his tongue is hypnotic against your skin and for the life you, you couldn’t care less if there are consequences after this moment. You’re in Namjoon’s capable hands feeling nothing but blissed out and safe.

Your breath grows unsteady until you realize his solid hand is overtop yours that rests on his thigh. His fingers interlace with yours as you clutch at his skin, and he drags them overtop your own legs, sinking into your cloud like flesh there.

You beam, knowing how gloriously lightheaded and dizzy you are right now. Namjoon’s lips are ecstasy. You know how easily you bruise- your neck will likely be black and purple and mottled when he’s through with you. You’ll have to hide out with him in his studio for days until it all passes. They may never go away at that rate, because somehow you know that once you see the marks of his splashed across your skin, you won’t have the willpower not to crawl back into his lap and ask for new ones. Because of who they came from. Because of the idea that, in some way, they make you his, and you can’t explain why you like that so much.

The thought alone of the way he may touch you in the future riles you up more than him touching in the now already does. The intensity of both all at once has your air coming in shaky, short and euphoric. Your vision swims with spots and you suddenly want more of him. At some point along the way, Namjoon has shed the rest of his clothes, fully tangled with you, and you pull him until his hips are between yours, and your fingers are lost in his lavender hair.

So you tap his shoulder and instantly, the pressure on your airway is lessening and his face is coming up from where it was adoring the now aubergine skin on your neck. Licking his lips, he twists to meet your eyes, slowing the swirl of his fingers across your skin.

“Yes?” He asks through the sexiest, heavy lidded eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Joonie, can we…” suddenly shy with your words, you bump his hips with yours, and that dimpled smile of his is suddenly beaming down at you. You’d been in the middle of dragging your face against his when he immediately displaces you and reorients you in front of him.

“Off. Take these beautiful things off,” he’s snatching at those goddamn flouncy shorts as you stand and suckling a blossoming purple spot into your hip bone. You crawl back into his lap, and pause, marveling at the man you've always known as roommate and best friend, suddenly giddy at the idea of waking up tomorrow morning to make French toast and water your mutual plants with him as something else instead. It’s different like this, connecting this way with someone who already feels like home. It’s different with him.

He seems to be having a moment of his own as he slips his hands around the dip of your spine and pulls you close, kissing your temples and running his lips across your hairline. He lowers his face until your noses press together and lets out a shuddery, not nervous but sort of, breath as his eyes lower to his hips and you.

You catch sight of his member there between you. It’s a beautiful color really, the painter in you notices. Some cocktail shade of mauve and cocoa that matches his nipples and supple mouth. It’s a little overwhelming to notice it all honestly, so before you let him slip inside you, you lean into him and kiss him. It’s grounding and glorious all at once. In fact, it’s so hypnotic that before you even realize it, he's already slipping into you as your mouths press, until suddenly, he’s breaking the kiss and groaning involuntarily as his hips stutter...

“What is it, Joon? What’s the-“ when you pull back to see if something is wrong, his hand is suddenly in your hair pulling you to him and you gasp. “Fuck, joonie,” you breathe.

He says nothing in reply, too lost in the rush of blood singing in his ears, but his gaze never leaves yours. Those venusian eyes of yours are so tempting - you know it and so does he and he’s happy to comply. His hips roll up, and you're tempted to praise him for knocking your consciousness back into the base of your spine, but you don’t think you could form that many words in succession right now. He catches the way your eyes flutter, the way you melt into him, relying on him to catch you, and he gives in to the way his heart expands in his chest.

“Anything for my Aphrodite,” he whispers, his lips pressed to the glimmer of sweat beginning to cool on your forehead.

He’s so aroused right now that, even with all that liquid surrounding him right now and your velour walls sucking him in, he gets stuck on his slide in. You both still to catch your breath, exchanging an airy laugh with each other as you take in the others fully naked body and swoon respectively.

“I think you’re gonna have to help us out, Joonie,” you chuckle, tipping your head down at where you’re… oh my god, joined together. You can’t believe this is really a thing the two of you do now. More importantly than that though, is it normal for a man to have such a pretty pelvis? Because Kim Namjoon’s cock is so big it’s nearly stuck inside you, and all you can think about is how pretty he looks half fitted into you like this like some janky wooden puzzle piece.

“Breathe for me okay? This will feel better if you’re relaxed. Trust me. I promise.” He kisses your temple, but he laughs too, more a raspy exhale than anything else, and with his eyes glued to the way he disappears inside you, he fluidly rolls the rest of the way up into you.

“Holy fu—“

“Hey, Language,” he teases, making you flush.

“Oh you’re worse than me,” you defend.

“Just barely.” He nips his teeth at your collarbone, not knowing it will trigger the beautiful sensation of you arching your back and subconsciously tightening around him. He stutters a breathy woah as he smiles at you, eying your lips before grazing his thumb across them.

You revel in knowing that he doesn’t need you to be perfect for him. You get the feeling that this experience with him will be special however it ends, which is more than you can say for your last few guys. Namjoon is such a gem. Which you knew, but didn’t know. You wish you’d figured this all out sooner.

When the slightest hint of a frown crosses your face, Namjoon cradles your face lovingly and reminds you “hey, stay with me. We’re right here: you and me. Everything okay?” You nod, and he waits until you elaborate before his hips continue.

“Yeah, I’m just...annoyed with myself for not realizing what a catch you were sooner,” you say honestly.

He smiles until his dimples peek out. “Hey, it worked out when it was supposed to, remember? No rushing. Let the good come to you.”

You smile warmly at him, grateful in innumerable ways for his existence, however it is to be explained, and place your cradled hands over his entirely too beautiful pecs. He flashes a smile so wide his teeth beam back at you as he flexes, slips his fingers around your waist again, and rolls his hips up into you.

His thumbs brush like music against your skin as he carries the effort of setting the pace for you. After spending the pandemic turning into a gym rat, his body is so strong that his thrusts are nuanced, fluid and strong, climbing up into the back of your torso in ways that don’t make sense. You feel like a little boat tossed at sea marveling at the waves.

His lips are on your mouth, his tongue warm and velvet as it drives you. Namjoon does all the work for you, and all that’s asked is that you receive. So you do. You let him do whatever he wants to do to you because, if you've learned anything today, it’s the gift of letting good things comes to you.

You don’t know how long this has all been going on because you’ve entirely lost yourself in Namjoon. In the way he suckles your breasts, kisses your mouth, and manipulates your body until you bounce like a rabbit in his powerful lap. You lean into him, your spine feeling entirely too flimsy to hold yourself up, and he holds you to him, scooping you up as you melt against him.

You don’t know whether you’re coming or going but you definitely know when you’re cumming. It’s like he’s taken you out of your body and set you on a cloud. You feel blissfully, happily, lovingly, irreverently fucked as your sweaty skin sticks to his. You marvel at his stamina even as you feel fully ready to collapse into him and resign from this world.

You sneak a glance at him through your hazy fluttered lids. His face looks almost angry as he watches where your bodies join, but you know that face- he’s just focused- so you focus on how gorgeous his pseudo pissed off jawline is as he works. After a few moments, he feels your gaze on him and looks up. Your eyes are quick to lock onto his and his lashes flutter, his heart rejoining the unspoken conversation as he smiles at you, brown eyes sparkling in their darkness, and warming his face with a flush.

One look, one solid uninterrupted look in your eyes is all it takes then, and suddenly, he’s melting into you.

He collapses back on the couch then, and you’re elated at the way he holds you up. His skin is salty and hot, and You’re grateful for the privacy of his studio despite the open windows because god, do you need the fresh air blowing through on the breeze right now.

He hugs you to him and you hold him back, thighs squeezing his hips as his welcome stickiness trickles it’s way out of you and mingles where you both stay joined. You fall asleep in his arms like that, not rousing until several hours later.

─────────────────────

You press up once you wake and Namjoon does too, shaking out the stiffness from the lack of circulation in his legs. You exchange quiet looks, bashful smiles and silent reminders that everything is just a little bit new.

In the silent haze of the darkness you've both woken up to, he pulls his softest, largest hoodie out of his desk drawer and over your head, blushing with an almost proud, secret smile when he catches a glimpse of your beautifully splotched throat beside the collar. You notice his poorly hidden grin and connect the dots as you flush in the dark. It’s funny, but you dont feel self conscious the way you thought you would— instead your chest soars when he presses a gentle kiss beneath your jaw, turning away before you can see how affected he is.

It’s quiet after that. He orders in food for the both of you and sets about finding a task while you wait for it to arrive. He fishes a drink out of his mini fridge for you and tosses you a bag of chips to snack on as changes out the futon cover in the meanwhile. He turns on the projector in the studio now that it’s the middle of the night and tabs around until he finds something to watch, keeping the studio lights dim as he scoops you into him.

In a lot of ways, it feels like a normal night, except, in reality, it’s not— everything has changed. What it’s become, you’re not sure. All you know is that every time Namjoon looks at you, you feel more and more like a wonder. Your heart feels more full than it possibly ever has and you can barely hold eye contact with him without smiling. It all feels sort of… right.

When the food arrives, you laugh at him when you realize He’s ordered you sushi and French fries which is ridiculous but delicious, and your chest warms from the inside. He ordered himself street tacos and wriggles his nose every time you offer him a dragon roll.

It just might be the happiest night of your life.

Namjoon holds you close to his chest when the food is done. Together you watch an animated movie that’s new to you and old to him. You smile every time he tenses— just before every exciting thing happens. He’s trying so hard not to spoil anything or tell you what’s going to happen, but his body betrays him every step of the way.

He smiles bashfully in the dark until the movie ends. When it does, he shuts the projector down before he pulls you both beneath a fluffy blanket and holds you through the night.

See?” He whispers once all the lights have been turned off, and it’s just you and him in the velvet silence that comes well after midnight. “I told you. Focus on the good things, and more will come.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I think you were right all along, joonie.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you interrupted me today.”

“I am too.”

You smile into his chest, and the world fades away.

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