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ambermotta · 6 months

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Protection Magic: Some Important Concepts

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Long post based on my experience and research. Meant to be informative. I don't claim to know the absolute truth.

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Protection magic is any type of work meant to protect A from B, and there are many ways that this can be done: prayers, charms, talismans, tokens, casting circles, setting up wards, visualization. The list can go on and on because it can be done in many different ways and combining many different methods.

But methods are not the topic of this post today. No, today I would like to talk about some key concepts to keep in mind before getting started on making protections and keeping them effective.

The Importance of Cleansing

Before doing any protection work I like to do a cleansing. Imagine you have an open water bottle, and because it was open, a lot of dirt has found its way into it over time. You decide to seal the bottle so no dirt comes in, but you don't pour out the old water, so you end up sealing it in. Yes, you'll keep more dirt from coming in, but the muck is still there.

It is easier to see this being applied to a physical location, but I personally also apply this to personal protective tokens. I feel they work better when you are taking care of your energies by doing regular cleanses and managing internal negativity.

Important Definitions

Protection ≠ Banishing ≠ Cleansing

I feel a lot of people are under the impression that these are all the same. I think they all work together towards a similar goal, but their jobs are different.

Protection: protecting something from something

Banishing: driving out entities

Cleansing: clearing out energy

You can do cleansing, banishing, and protection at the same time, but that doesn't mean they are the same. You can do a ritual including all of them, but you can also just do a cleansing or just do warding (which is a form of protection).

Note: cleansing is not restricted to “negative energy”. You can cleanse any kind of energy. Exemple: a friend of yours decides tarot is not for them and hands down their deck to you. If you wanna work with that deck it is highly advisable that you do a thorough cleansing of it and then infuse it/consecrate it with the energies you want. It's not that your friend has “bad” energy, it's just that you might not want to work with the same energies they have, or use a tool that has someone else's energy in it.

Not Necessarily a Lazy Job

One important thing with protection magic is that no matter how strong or how successful are at doing it is that it is not failproof. I have yet to see protection work that lasts forever, and there may be a few reasons for it.

Negativity also comes from within

Imagine you have a fish inside an open fish tank. Just like the bottle example earlier, you decide to put a lid on so you prevent leaves from falling into the tank and polluting the water. However, there's a fish, a living being in there, and it produces waste. It is impossible for the fish to live without producing waste. If you don’t regularly clean the water, ammonia and fecal matter will build up.

In this analogy, you are the fish. I am the fish. Humans literally cannot live without ever having a negative thought or feeling, it is part of our existence and we have to live with it. No one lives in constant bliss.

That doesn't mean we have to live in the muck though. That's why cleansing yourself is important.

No one is immune to the environment

Here I have another analogy for you. Imagine you're facing a harsh winter, but you are safe in the security and warmth of your house. Your house is protected from the cold so you don't even mind it. However, you have to go outside. You dress up, go out and you feel very, very cold. You could perhaps wear something warmer, but it will never feel the same as home. Yet it is better than going outside naked, no?

Same thing for energies. You can have protection, but depending on how strong the energy in the environment is you are sure to feel it to at least some degree. However it's best to have some protection than no protection at all.

And there is a difference between Feeling an energy and dwelling in it vs Feeling an energy and not letting it latch onto you.

Energy can wear off, and new energy can build up

Energy is ever changing, ever moving. If you do a strong protection spell once, it can last for a long while, but if you forget about it it will likely lose a lot of its strength over time. Some of what you put out there might wear off and be substituted by something else. The energy can also grow stale, which means it becomes less effective.

But if you do a strong spell every month you will not only make your protections stronger, but also constantly renew the energies and not let them stagnate.

So keep doing cleanses and every now and then give a boost to your protections so they are refreshed and recharged.

Note on "Negative Energy"

One of the main reasons someone might choose to do a protection ritual and a cleansing is to ward off negative energy. But is that really needed? What is "negative energy"?

Negative energy might feel like a sense of heaviness, dread, pain, sadness, feeling ill, angry, sad or anxious. Emotions produce and attract what we can call "negative energy", the same way it can make us feel those things.

And while I personally think nobody wants to feel them, we must understand they are not always bad at their core.

The uncomfortable feelings they can cause may also be a gateway for healing and transformation. Pain tells us there is something that needs to be worked on, that needs change.

If you are feeling negative, ask yourself why. Why does this bother me? What makes me feel this way? What can I learn from this pain?

If you happen to feel negative energy, it is good to cleanse and protect. But I advise you to always look for the source to see what can be done about it or what you can learn from it. Don't just try to use spellcasting to run away from your shit. Own your shit. Deal with it.

Otherwise, it will keep coming back no matter how much protection you have.

Conclusion

It is impossible to always be free from “negative energy” all the time, no matter how strong your protections are. But protections can absorb some of the blows that you would otherwise take and ease the ones you were going to take no matter what.

Protection magic alone will not solve all your problems. It is a great tool to help you keep your center and remain grounded, but it is not usually something you do once and forget. It is a continuous, ever evolving work, meant to be used in conjunction with other types of spellwork.

And most importantly, it can give you some comfort through the many trials of life.

Thank you for reading, and good luck on your path! ♡

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wutheringcaterpillar · 8 months

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Back to December

Summary: When you arrive home, you're confronted with what you feared to be true. Tommy reassured you it couldn't be, it'd never be again but how can he deny you of what you witnessed with your own eyes. What could he do, when his wife won't come to an understanding that he would never put his family at risk like that and it was all a misunderstanding.

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, a lot of shitting on Grace, happy ending

Loosely based off "Back to December" by Taylor Swift

I'm so glad you made time to see me How's life? Tell me, how's your family? I haven't seen them in a while

The snow was coming down in heavy spurts outside, as the wind blustered throughout the air. You were sat at your kitchen table at your new temporary apartment watching the storm through the window as you sipped on your tea awaiting for Thomas to arrive to sign the papers.

December had passed, and now it was a new year, lonesome for you to say the least as you were trying to adjust to your new life on your own. The children were on rotating weekends with the both of you so it would be even, but you were sure they were having a hard time understanding why their mom and dad were no longer in the same house together. This weekend was Thomas’s and he had arranged for Polly to watch the children until this meeting was over which you were hoping would be sooner rather than later.

Seeing Thomas pull into your driveway, you poured another cup of hot tea and placed it on the opposite end of the table. Hearing him knock at the door you didn’t bother to get up and waste your energy for him so you shouted for him that it was open.

When he walked in, he was wearing a navy blue suit, a black trench coat draped over his shoulders. He had bags and dark circles under his baby blue eyes, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

When he entered the kitchen to where you were, with the papers sitting out with a pen he looked defeated. He couldn’t help but take in your beauty as your hair flowed freely and the sweater you were wearing fit your body snuggly while your feet were covered in fuzzy socks.

“You look lovely.” You nodded to yourself without thanking him and extended your hand for him to take his seat across from you.

“How’s your family been? I sent them a gift for the holidays, did you get my card?” Crossing your arms insecurely, you felt yourself begin to curl in on yourself as you brought your knees closer to your chest. Tommy believed this could be fixed, but you wanted him out of your life for good and it agitated you that he was still going at all lengths to win you back, and to make things worse every one in your family was telling you to go back, and didn’t understand why you would leave a man who cares for you very deeply and treated you well. You felt alone, no one was on your side. Your mother continuously told you to forgive him, your sister would make comments about how stupid you were for wanting to leave such a handsome, charming man that had money.

“Yes, Thomas I got it.” He winced to himself quietly. Ever since everything happened, you wouldn’t call him Tommy, you wouldn't call him the sweet nicknames you usually did. It made him feel like a stranger to you now, not of importance.

Your guard is up and I know why

Because the last time you saw me Is still burned in the back of your mind You gave me roses and I left them there to die

Tommy watched you painfully, your guard was up and he understood why, he was the reason. If he had just not let her into the house, everything would be okay, you marriage would still be in tact. It’d be wrong of him to not take the blame for this, his words meant nothing to you, and he wished they had. All of Birmingham knew of his relationship with Grace, she had always been a heavy weight on your shoulders, more-so because she had appeared in town again and Tommy told you there was nothing to worry about, and you had believed him. He took a sip of his tea, trying to find words to make you understand his point of view.

“I know what I’m here for, but I’m not signing our love away until you hear me out, please.” You scoffed in response and pushed the papers closer to him. He still didn’t pick up the pen.

Tommy didn’t understand, he’d never understand. From what you’ve heard around town and from fellow acquaintances of his, he was always the heartbreaker. You had just thought that you would have been the one that mattered to him, you thought that he was different than the rest and he just wasn’t given love, or affection as he should have been. The five years you had been married you never would’ve expected you’d be sitting across from Thomas in this situation.

“I’m going to turn the heat up, and start another pot of tea if you’d fancy more.” Tommy nodded as you walked off.

Entering the family room, you glanced at the roses he had, had delivered to you after that dreadful day. You didn’t want to start over, you didn’t want to move past Thomas but the image of that day still burned in the back of your mind.

~ Your pov ~

Pulling into the driveway, I had just finished an outing with Ada and I was exhausted, the girl could shop fo days. It was very generous of her to offer to watch the kids for the night, after all they had been missing their auntie. I was hoping Frances already had dinner made because it was an understatement to say I was starving.

Opening the door, I froze in my tracks. I was blinded by what I thought was impossible, by what he promised me was not going to happen.

I stood there watching as my husband’s lips intertwined with Grace’s, her arms wrapped around his masculine body that I thought was mine.

Who was I kidding? Grace was beautiful, and she was everything I could never be for Thomas. I lacked natural beauty, elegancy, and just simple etiquette at times. I could never compete.

He looked at me with panicked eyes when he pushed her off of him. I now knew where I stood, second place as usual. I didn’t need to say anything to make up my mind as I dropped my possessions to the ground and exited the house, I once called home.

Stupidity, and shame flooded over me, and I refuse to give Thomas the power to try to con me into staying but I couldn’t stop myself from turning and screaming at him.

There he stood having the audacity to look at me doe eyed, acting like he was scared to lose me. I should’ve listened to everyone who told me he would never be over her. He didn’t chase after me when I backed out of the driveway in tears while my body was trying to decide if it felt more sad or angry.

So this is me swallowin' my pride Standin' in front of you, sayin' I'm sorry for that night And I go back to December all the time

Returning to the kitchen, you opened your book and impatiently waited for him to sign and get out. Thomas took that as a sign you would not be hearing him out, so he decided to take matters into his own hands per usual. Grabbing the book from your soft hands, he slammed it closed, and tossed it to the side. “Y/N. I am telling you. I did not fucking kiss her. She kissed me and-“

“So that makes it okay that she was in our fucking home, does it? What difference does it make? Why was she in my fucking house Thomas! Why did-“ Thomas stood up out of frustration, pointing at your front door.

“She let herself in! I was upstairs, gathering laundry from the childrens rooms for Frances! When I heard the door fucking open, I grabbed my fucking gun and went downstairs and was blindsided with her in our fucking house! I tried kicking her out, and when you pulled in, she fucking kissed me when she heard your fucking car door close!” When he noticed, you were beginning to cry, he patted his suit down and took his seat once more, now feeling bad for yelling at you. He let you have a moment, he would’ve tried to soothe you, but he didn’t as he thought that would make things worse. When you were calm, he spoke once more.

“I’m truly sorry Y/N for that evening. I wish you had been there before she was, so you’d believe in me that I’m not lying to you.” You scoffed, in disbelief that he still would not confess.

“Thomas just sign the papers, please.” He hesitated before moving, contemplating in all the ways he could have handled this better. Slowly, he picked up the pen and begrudgingly signed on the dotted line. He slid the papers over to you slowly, and gently and you couldn’t help but notice his fingers shaking. “Thank you.” He nodded unwilling full. He removed himself from your house, when he tried to hug you goodbye you stayed in your tracks, looking away from him. He understood and excused himself.

Tommy’s pov

“What the fuck do you want Grace.” Slowly she approached him with lustful eyes. “You know what I want Thomas. I want to pick up where we left off my love.” She placed her hand on my cheek, and I felt nothing.

Grace was a chapter in my life, that had now closed, and I didn’t intend on extending it. I grabbed her wrist, throwing it to the side and pointed directly at her.

“No, no. You don’t get to fucking do that, what gives you the fucking right, eh? You were the one who lied to me, spied on me. That wasn’t love Grace. I’m happily married and I’m beyond grateful it’s not to you.” The sound of a car door closing outside caught both of our attention.

My wife was home.

My love.

Panic set in as my jaw clenched, I felt stupid for not kicking her out, but what was I supposed to do? Aim a gun at her.

I knew how Y/N felt about Grace, and I had told her everything about our relationship in the past. Now here I am, standing in my own god damn living room in my own bloody god damn mess. I was hoping to have her out by the time she had arrived back home.

“Grace, you need to-“ Before I could finish my sentence, Grace’s hands were on both my arms, pulling me closer as her lips clashed into mine.

“Honey I’m-" At that moment, I heard the door to our house close and pushed the conniving whore off of me, but I watched as the smile on Y/N’s face dropped in an instant.

Now here I was standing in a living room, looking like a complete ass. “Y/N, honey. It’s not what it looks like I-“ She hadn’t let me finish.

She shook her head in disbelief and dropped everything in her hands onto the floor, before exiting the house. I ran outside after her, and I didn’t look back to see if Grace had followed.

“Y/N! I-“ She had turned around quickly and strikes me across my face. That’s when I knew, I was going to lose the love of my life.

“5 years! 5 years and none of it mattered! Our beautiful children! The house we bought together! All over what! Huh!? Some irish whore who didn’t give a fuck about you until she had your money, and then moved onto the next!” I stayed quiet and I could feel my eyes begin to swell with water, as my body trembled. I followed her eyes that were staring a deathly hole into Grace and looked back to my heartbroken wife.

I would never put my marriage or my kids in the jeopardy of driving them away. If it weren’t for Y/N and our kids, I’m not sure my life would have any meaning. Whatever I said, no matter the truth or a lie I knew it would mean nothing to my sweet Y/N and I watched as she got into her car, driving away from me and our fortress we built together.

The drive home, Thomas cried. He had lost everything, once again Grace wins. He had his brothers take care of getting her out of town and they had threatened her if they see her again they will not hesitate to put a bullet through her head for ruining Thomas’s happiness after it took him so long to move on from her.

When Polly dropped the children off it was late which Thomas was partially grateful for because he was mentally drained. He thanked Polly and tucked the three of them into bed, kissing them on the forehead endearingly.

Walking into his room, he looked at the clothes you left behind that were scattered throughout the room. It had become routine for Tommy to sleep with what he had left of you, a different article of clothing every night. He took his place in bed and layed down, clutching his pillow and the sweater he had bought you in his arms, breathing in what was left of your scent.

When he went to sleep that night, he had slept in a bed of tears, once again. The only thing that brought him comfort was that you allowed him to take care of your children and to see them still. He just wished he handled the situation in a better manner, and he wouldn't have lost you.

Maybe this is wishful thinkin' Probably mindless dreamin' But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't

The next morning, you were dressed and ready to go turn in the papers. The brisk air of winter sent shivers down your spine as you were approaching the door to the courts clerk office. You were stopped in your tracks once Junie, yours and Thomas’s neighbor saw you. She was a sweet old lady, that you had been bringing meals to for quite some time so that she didn’t have to cook.

“Y/N! How are you? I heard about Thomas, such a shame Grace came back, no one really cared for her around here.” You nodded, shifting your lip awkwardly. This wasn’t exactly something you wanted to be chatting about. “I’ve been better.”

“She was always very importuning and demanding of Thomas, can’t believe she thought she could try again with him and succeed.” You thought to yourself what she could mean. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, you know an old woman like me not having much to do, I eavesdrop sometimes. I saw that little twat make her move on your husband through the window. Speaking of, I haven’t seen you there recently Y/N, is everything alright.” The truth came crashing down on you like a wrecking ball. Your mouth subtly dropped as your eyebrows etched together in disbelief. Thomas was telling the truth. He didn’t lie to you. “Ugh- Miss Junie I think I need to be going. I- I will stop by later this week alright?” Without hearing her response you were rushing back to your car.

Tommy awoke to the kids bouncing up and down on the bed and he turned to look at you only to forget you aren’t there anymore. “Daddy! Daddy! Ada’s here! Can we go over to her house!” Thomas brushed at his drooping eyelids, still squinting from the morning light. “I- yeah of course you guys can.” Ada appeared in the door frame, and the kids rushed passed her to go get changed. “I figured i’d give you the morning. Take a shower brother. You can’t be in this slump forever. If not for yourself for them. They need their father. They love you y’know.” Tommy nodded and thanked her before sliding the blanket back over his head.

You glanced at the odometer as you were approaching 70 mph, swiftly avoiding the potholes or any bad ice patches. You felt like a terrible wife, shameful and guilty for not believing him your dear Tommy. You just hoped it wasn't too late.

Freshly showered and clothed. He headed downstairs and noticed Ada had left a note informing him of what time she would have them back by. He was grateful for Ada and Pol, always willing to help him out. He took a seat in the kitchen where Frances had cooked him a warm, hearty breakfast. He thanked her and placed his glasses on before opening the paper.

Before he could take a bite of his food Tommy heard a car sprint into his driveway, and he removed his glasses, and was standing up running to the window within seconds, gun ready at the side.

All movement in him stopped, time froze when he saw you in the drivers seat, quickly opening the door before running to the front of the house and hearing you bang on the door aggressively.

When he opened the door, he was worried something was wrong, you couldn’t have changed your mind. He took in your out of breath state, and your tear stained, red cheeks. The first thing that came to his mind was you were in trouble and he settled his hand near his gun. “Y/N, what’s wrong are you alright?”

“Junie she-she told me- she saw everything.” Without hesitating Tommy pulled you into his warm embrace once again as a wave of undeniable relief washed through him. Maybe Tommy should be thanking the old bat for eavesdropping all the time.

“I missed your sweet, beautiful smile. I haven’t slept in weeks with an empty half of our bed love. I thought I lost you forever. If I could go back in time and change it and just shoot her I would. She’s never, ever coming back here I made sure of it. It’s taken care of.” You didn’t want to know what that meant all you cared about right now was making up with your husband. “I’m- I’m sorry for not believing you.” Tommy combed his fingers gently through your hair, while tears of happiness began to stream down his now red cheeks.

“Darling I don’t blame you with who I was as a man before I met you. Just know Grace is history, in the past. She could never compete with such a gentle, beautiful soul like yours. I would never do that to you my love.” You looked up at him, your glossy eyes connecting with his.

You couldn’t stop yourself from jumping up into his arms and smashing your lips against his in an electrifying kiss that sent shocks through your body. You missed him momentously. Not wanting to break away, he took note that the door being open was sending snow in. He kissed you on your chilled temple before escorting you inside. “Frances just prepared breakfast and Ada took the children, they’ll be back this evening. Please join me.” You smiled in hopes that things could go back to normal, how they were before Grace attempted to split you a apart.

Before you made it to the kitchen you stopped him in front of the fireplace, papers in your hands. You threw them into the flames and watched them turn to dust. You needed Thomas to know that they weren’t submitted and were not going to be. He smiled at you gracefully, placing his arm around your shoulders.

The two of you stood there in silence, taking in that you were once again still a force no one could reckon with.

#thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #ranaewrites

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born-in-hell · 25 days

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WHY Q!BADBOYHALO IS PROBABLY FED:

SPECIAL GUEST THEORY - THE MASTERPOST

Important Information!

Hello! This post was written in january and febuary, before the workers at Quackity Studios came out with their stories. Ever since then, i haven't been following the QSMP as a server, despite still writing a fic based on it and following the situation with the workers somewhat closely. I just can't care about it as much as i did. Im posting this theory because it meant a lot to me at the time. I truly believed i was right, and that Badboyhalo would be the main antagonist. I even had the throry that the QSMP would end in a dispute between q!Fit (Madagio + The Rebellion) and q!BBH (Fed). I worked for such a long time gathering evidence for, organizing and writing this post that it just feels bad to keep it in. Today (30/4/24), another ex-admin, named Elk, released a statement, that said: "There was an odd rule where main island lore was never allowed to tie into creator-specific lore, despite creators actively wanting to involve themselves with the federation and being permitted to do so and certain creators having a HUGE influence on the overall lore.". This just erased any and all motivations i ever had to make a theory that links everything together. There was never a truly coherent story. Which makes not only this theory, but any and all theories that link the player characters to the main island lore, useless. Being honest, i just didnt want this post to go to waste, mostly because i worked a lot on it. For that, this post is very much not finished. Most texts are not fully written - my ideas are not as developed as i wish they were. And i apologize for this, i just dont have the energy to finish this. If you want to know my take on the QSMP lore, you can check out my fanfic. Despite all this, I hope you all enjoy this.

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This is a compilation of all the evidence we have to support the Special Guest Theory.

I created this mainly to show people that don't have as much free time or are just dont have the energy to think about or remember all this why the Special Guest Theory does make sense.

This is a colaborative work, as I wouldnt be able to think about all this without these wonderful people: @lionheartedmusings @demodraws0606 @lxrd-ren @skullhalo @windchime-of-teeth

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Where it all started: The ARG Emails

On Feb 21, Quackity Studios posted this tweet, that had an ARG puzzle.

The "special invitation" also grasps my attention, but it might be coincidental wording.

Decyphering the puzzle, it lead to a Google Doc, that had many emails.

Among them, there was this one:

[Respectful greetings, We are seeking quotes for the purchase of 1393 muffins to satisfy the extra demand of our special guest. For those who are not aware of the situation, it was pointed out that it is an obligation to share two muffins per person in the workspace to guarantee happy and productive work. We wish to receive your commercial proposals as soon as possible. We appreciate your commitment and effort in preparing your offers for evaluation. Sincerely,]

So uhm... muffins right? Who could it possiblly be referencing?

I honestly can't think of no one else besides q!Badboyhalo, even outside of the qsmp, whose brand is so intrinsically connected to this little cake things.

The number is also very specific. If every worker needs 2 muffins, why is the order an odd number? That just isn't divisible equally to everyone.

-> I will make a separate post detailing what i think the 1393 could be referencing.

I want to mention here that, by the way this email is written,

q!Badboyhalo's Teaser Post

Ok, so there are a coulple things to pay attention about this post. First the muffins are a clear reference to Bad (there's no arguing here, he is the muffins guy).

Second, where it was posted; unlike all the other cc teasers ─ that were posted on @/quackity4k, quackity's alt twitter account ─ this one was posted on the official Quackity Studios account, along with the arg post that is.

-> These are the other QSMP cc teasers:

Third, its the only teaser thats accompanied by "welcome to the QSMP". All the others either include something related to the cc (like a bird emoji for Jaiden), or teasing words (closer; up next).

Fourth, the milk emoji. Its curious, and out of place. It is so odd and specific that it deserved to be discussed.

Especially considering that, coincidentally, this is what Badboyhalo responded to the QSMP teaser that i'll talk about later:

Milk is often ─ surprisingly ─ a symbol commonly used with villains in media, to symbolize various things, but mostly to cause a discomfort in the audience, as milk is associated with purity and childhood. So pairing it with ruthless and cruel villains creates an unsetteling atmosphere.

-> Some reference links: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4

The Teaser Video

-> click here to watch the video

The video starts off in a dimly lit room, with some boxes, and, most notably, a tv, a vcr player and a chair. A shadowy figure enters the room, and inserts a cassette on the player. A promotional video of Quesadilla Island starts playing. It shows the figure watching the video, and the scene is interrupted by a black screen with "20 years later" written. It ends with two other shadowy figures (Quackity and Slime, presumably) talking in the train that took the first group to our current Quesadilla.

The only thing that we can notice on this person, is a little white marking on both their left and right hand.

Some theorized it could be qFit, but he doesn't have the marking on his right hand.

Right side /// Left side

The only character, from the first group of islanders, who has a white marking on both hands is q!Badboyhalo.

And q!Badboyhalo being part of the fed in 2003 does also make sense in his lore; he's never mentioned where he was or what he was doing around the late 1990's and early 2000's.

Unlike fit, who was 13 in 2003. He was a child ─ he was only a bit older than q!Cellbit during the war.

This is, in my opinion, one of the most substantial evidences we have of q!Badboyhalo being involved in whatever the fed is doing.

The 2013 War

When qCellbit started researching the fed, as a child, he was forcefully exiled from Quesadilla, because he found out too much about what was going on. Maybe the tests on children (q!Baghera and the other deceased hybrids), as he says this on his letter to q!Bagi:

[...] I saw everything inside, they were doing all this beneath our very feet… it’s horrible, Bagi. You don’t deserve this, I don’t want you to have to live with these guys. So meet me on the other side of this ocean Bagi. I’ll be going now, I don’t care if I have to swim until [...]

-> You can check q!Cellbit's old diaries translated into english on this post

He ended up, somehow, in a war, where he, coincidentally, first met q!BBH.

q!Bad has stated he was in the war to overlook it.

Antoine's Comic

This comic was given it was given, from Cucurucho, specifically to q!Badboyhalo.

-> check this twitter clip of antoine's talk with cucurucho to see the full conversation

The Purgatory Puzzle

Codeflippa lead qBBH, qAypierre and qMaximus throughout the maze, into a white room with a red button. Before activating the button, this was shown to them:

-> Could the asterisks mean Badboy? or maybe Mr. Halo?

They pressed the button, and then recieved this book:

Via a warpstone, they were taken to another maze, this one with a puzzle and two pictures of cucurucho.

After going through some rooms, they found a small pillar, with Dapper's hat on top of it, as you can see here:

Why? Why was dapper's hat there?

If this is a foreshadowing to the fact that Dapper would always be the eggs that would be freed from purgatory, independently from the roulette, than why Dapper?

What makes Dapper special, or different from the other kids, that earned him this, and possibly his life?

The group found themselves in a circular room, with three die. These die, coincidentally, had the same colors as q!Badboyhalo and Dapper: black, red and white.

There was a chest, and in it, they recieved this books:

Badboyhalo was shortly after teleported into the middle of the room, so he could play the game.

He thew the die and got a 7.

He then was gifted this ticket:

Again, why q!Badboyhalo? What makes him different?

It can't be him being a demon, since Mouse and Tina were already on the island.

So what makes him so special that, not only theres a full puzzle dedicated to him (as evidenced by Dapper's hat, and qBad being the chosen one for the game), but he's the first person (not counting q!Bagi nor q!Carre) to get a ticket? He's the only islander that had to go through this puzzle to get it, the other ones were just teleported into the room. Not even q!Max or q!Pierre got tickets that day.

#qsmp #qsmp lore #qsmp theory #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp fit #qsmp duck #qsmp purgatory #qsmp discourse #qsmp neg #qadmin situation

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darkstar225 · 7 months

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Twice's 10th member being babysat by Aespa

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys so I can make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that the anon who gave me this idea on Tumblr likes it!

The request: Hi I want to request where y/n is still underage and the others members have a schedule outside of seoul and they contact aespa asking if they could look after y/n and they were happy to, y/n took a liking towards all of them especially to karina and winter. They play with y/n and get to know her. By the end of the night y/n sleeps cuddling with karina and winter. Thank u

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

The city of Seoul was alive with the vibrant energy that could only be found in the heart of South Korea. On a sunny morning, the members of TWICE, one of the nation's most beloved K-pop groups, were bustling about their dorm, preparing for a busy day. Among them was Y/N, the 10th and youngest member of the group and still underage, who was eagerly getting ready for the day ahead.

It was a day that TWICE had been looking forward to for a long time. They had a schedule outside of Seoul, which meant they had to leave their youngest member behind. While the maknae was responsible and capable of taking care of herself, the other members wanted to make sure she wouldn't be lonely in their absence.

Nayeon, the eldest member and the unofficial leader of TWICE, took out her phone and dialled a number. It was a number she had saved in her contacts, belonging to the members of Aespa, a junior girl group from SM Entertainment. Nayeon had met the Aespa members during various music shows and events, and they had formed a friendly bond.

The call was answered by Karina, one of the Aespa members.

Karina - Hello, Nayeon unnie! How can we help you today?

Nayeon smiled warmly, feeling a sense of relief knowing that Aespa was willing to assist.

Nayeon - Hi, Karina. We have a schedule outside of Seoul today, and our Y/N is still underage. We were wondering if you and the other Aespa members could look after her for the day.

Karina's eyes lit up with enthusiasm.

Karina - Of course, we'd be happy to help! Y/N is such a sweetheart, and we'd love to spend time with her.

Nayeon was grateful for the offer and motherly smiled.

Nayeon - Thank you so much, Karina. We'll drop our child off at your dorm on our way to the schedule. She's really excited to spend time with you all.

After ending the call, Nayeon informed the rest of the TWICE members about the arrangement. Y/N's face lit up with excitement at the prospect of spending the day with the Aespa members. She had always admired their talent and charisma, and the idea of getting to know them better was a dream come true.

A short while later, the members of TWICE arrived at Aespa's dorm, with TWICE's sunshine in tow. As they entered the dorm, the Aespa members greeted them with warm smiles.

Karina, who had taken charge of organizing the day, beamed at Y/N.

Karina - Hi, kiddo! We're so happy you're here with us today.

Y/N couldn't contain her excitement as she jumped up and down.

Y/N - Hi, Karina unnie! Hi, everyone! I can't believe I get to spend the day with you all!

Giselle, another Aespa member, ruffled Y/N's hair playfully.

Giselle - We're excited too! Let's have a great time together.

The Aespa members wasted no time in making the youngest feel at home. They played games, chatted about their experiences as idols, and even sang a few songs together. Y/N was in awe of their talents and found herself bonding with each of them in different ways.

Winter, known for her sweet and gentle nature, took TWICE's angel under her wing. She showed Y/N how to create beautiful handmade accessories, and the two of them spent hours crafting and sharing stories. Y/N admired Winter's patience and kindness, feeling like she had found a new friend.

Karina, with her charismatic presence, couldn't help but capture the younger girl's attention. They danced together, and Y/N marvelled at Karina's incredible skills. Karina's encouraging words filled her dongsang with confidence, and she couldn't have asked for a better dance partner.

As the day turned into evening, the Aespa members decided to cook a delicious meal together. Winter and Karina joined forces in the kitchen, while the others set the table. Y/N eagerly assisted with tasks like chopping vegetables and setting the table, feeling like a part of their close-knit group.

Dinner was a feast of laughter and shared stories. TWICE's lovebug had never felt more welcome and loved by a group of people she had just met. Aespa's warm and friendly demeanour made her feel like she had known them for a lifetime.

After dinner, the group decided to wind down with a movie night. Y/N snuggled up between Karina and Winter on the couch, feeling content and secure. The movie played on the TV screen, but TWICE's kid couldn't help but steal glances at her newfound friends.

At some point during the movie, Y/N rested her head on Karina's shoulder, and Winter draped a cosy blanket over them. The room was filled with the soft glow of the TV, and the atmosphere was warm and comfortable.

As the movie came to an end, Y/N felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. Her eyes drooped, and she yawned. Karina and Winter exchanged a knowing look and gently guided her to one of the bedrooms in the dorm.

Winter tucked Y/N into bed, and Karina sat on the edge, stroking her hair.

Winter - Goodnight, honey. *whispering*

Y/N's drowsy voice was filled with gratitude.

Y/N - Goodnight, Karina unnie. Goodnight, Winter unnie. Thank you for everything. *smiles*

Karina and Winter exchanged a fond smile, their maternal instincts kicking in as they watched Y/N drift off to sleep. They couldn't have imagined a better way to spend the day, taking care of the youngest member of TWICE and creating a bond that would last a lifetime.

As Y/N slept soundly, cradled in the warmth of Karina and Winter's care, the members of Aespa knew that they had not only made a new friend but had also become a source of support and love for a fellow idol. They couldn't have asked for a more heartwarming and fulfilling day.

And this made both share one thought:

I love our dear chosen little sister.

A/N: I'm sorry for any errors. English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there is something wrong, ty for reading <3

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deerbornintuitive · 1 year

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Pick-a-Pile: What are you leaving behind in the New Year?

Choose from A-D, left to right Let your intuition guide you in which pile’s energy resonates with you. Do not second guess it! If you’re having trouble deciding: close your eyes, take a deep breath in and slowly exhale. Clear your mind. You can ask your Spirit Guides for assistance, if needed.

I’ve included affirmations to guide you in your personal journey or energy work. Choose one or use them all. Write them down, repeat them to yourself, put them somewhere you will see as a reminder.

Please note this is a collective reading. Take what resonates, and leave the rest. If you enjoy your reading, consider leaving a tip or booking a full reading with me!

My aura & tarot site & offerings here! | Tip Jar

PILE A

6 of Pentacles reversed

You’re finally leaving behind self-limiting beliefs that involve your finances and resources. In the past, you’ve perpetuated ideas and beliefs which caused you to lack. Money was likely stagnant for you this past year; not much coming in, not much being spent. Some of this was due to circumstances beyond your control. However, you've contributed to this by thinking that certain things weren’t meant for you. You have turned down offers and/or undersold yourself because of these beliefs. You even overlooked opportunities, because you hadn’t deemed yourself worthy at the time. You’re capable of much more than you have realized in the past. This energy is shifting right now, enabling you to nurture and heal your feelings and thoughts about money, income, and financial security. This, in turn, attracts more of what you need your way, whatever that may be. There are going to be many more chances and opportunities for you in the new year, so avoid dwelling or feeling sorry for yourself. What you truly want is waiting for you around the bend!

Affirmations: I am worthy. I am open to limitless possibilities. I am open to receiving. I attract everything I need and more.

PILE B

Knight of Wands

You are leaving behind your more wild, untamed side. There has been lots of excitement (for good or bad)-- it may be at times that you were a bit reckless or not fully thinking things through before acting. You may have been choosing fun while ignoring responsibilities… It’s likely that you’ve already started to see the results of your actions, or that you regret time wasted. Your awareness is coming down to Earth, and with it your maturity level advances. You’ve gotten a lot of this youthful energy out of your system, and you’ve learned many lessons. Though it was fun (hopefully), you’re moving into this new year with a pull toward healthier habits and a more grounded energy overall. Acts of self care will become easier, and you’ll be better able to prioritize yourself and your responsibilities. This coming year will also be great for discovering what you truly want for your long-term. You can still have fun, but in a more grounded way.

In a romantic sense, this card can represent leaving behind someone who is a player or who hasn’t been completely present for you. For those in and off-and-on situation, or blurry undefined relationship, it’s best to call it quits for good.

Affirmations: I release behaviors which hold me back. I deal with conflict in a mature and graceful manner. I can’t change the past, but I can change my present.

PILE C

5 of Pentacles

You are leaving behind your sorrows. This was likely a tough year for you, emotionally and/or financially. You have been tested to the point that you’ve felt at times completely defeated. You have likely felt or even been alone throughout your difficulties, without outside support. It can be so difficult to be aware of your blessings and what is going right, when it feels like everything that could have gone wrong, has. But it’s in the worst, most difficult times, that we need to notice our blessings and the beauty of life the most. In the new year, you’re able to lift your head up with courage. As the fog begins to clear, you can gain a stronger awareness of what is going right, no matter how simple. The energy moving in for you is much more helpful, bringing with it positive ideas and inspired actions to take. In this new year to come, you’re able to leave behind your struggles and negative emotions. Even if circumstances don’t improve much, the burdens will begin feeling much less heavy to carry. You’re going to see that you’re not as stuck as you once believed. You’re going to be better able to see your resources and what you could try to do to improve your situation. The key that you need is close by, closer than you’ve realized, and you’ll soon be unlocking a positive new door. The sun is shining over you with a vibrant warm glow— lift your head up.

Affirmations: I am resilient. My emotions and circumstance do not define me. The past is over. I keep the wisdom, and release the painful memories attached.

PILE D

The Empress reversed

You are leaving weak personal boundaries behind. There’s an energy around you of having given too much— of being so giving that at the end of the day, there isn’t much, if anything, left for you. You’re close to your limit, if not already there. No more spending evenings and weekends burnt out! In the coming days, you’re more clearly able to say ‘No’ when you want to, and ask for what you need. You’re fully accepting your worth. You’ll be shifting into making yourself a priority. It’s past due. With this shift, you’re less prone to people stealing your energy. Fulfilling your own wishes and needs first makes your assistance and support far more effective when the time comes to help someone! Treat yourself soon; make time to take yourself out on dates. Lean into more of what you enjoy, and embrace new chances to reconnect with yourself.

With this card, Spirit invites you to reflect on your personal relationships. Is there one that’s been particularly draining? It’s time to take a break or cut ties altogether.

Affirmations: I listen to my body and emotions. Taking care of myself is important. I focus only on what I can control. I keep my promises to myself.

#pick a pile #pac #pac reading #pickapile #pick a card #free tarot reading #pick a card reading #tarot #tarot readers of tumblr #tarot reading #light seers tarot #new year messages #spirit message #2023 tarot reading

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lady-maracas · 2 years

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Make me yours

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Word count: 2,7k

Warnings: None, just fluff. Some swearing. I wrote this in first person. Also, story takes place in 1967. Love xxx.

Masterlist

I probably have the best friend in the whole world, you can't change my mind. And 'why?' you would ask? The answer is easy. He takes care of me, puts his happiness before mine (even though I tell him not to) and he's always been there for me, in my worst and best moments.

And I wouldn't want it any other way.

We met when we were kids. Both of us were alone on the first school day. As soon as we met each other's eye, we knew we would become the bestest of friends. He was the golden retreiver and I was the black cat. He was ready to play and go outside at anytime of the day. And me? I'd rather stay at home and just stand there. But the huge contrast between our personalities is what brought us together. Since that day, we were inseparable. Even though we've had some pretty bad arguments, awful even, we always found each other back. He was there for me and I was there for him. Attached at the hip.

Today, I turned 18. He promised he'd take me down to the pub for my first (legal) drink. Honestly, I would've much prefered if we'd stayed home and had a quiet night but, what's wrong with having a little fun once in a while? I kicked myself to take a shower and finally started to get ready. I chose the most comfortable (but still cute) outfit I had, because if I get wasted, might as well be comfortable because it's going to be one hell of a night.

As soon as I was ready, I heard a soft knocking on my front door. I ran (literally) to unlock the door for him. I didn't even have time to open it completely, he smiled as soon as he saw me.

"Hey, birthday girl!" I don't know where he found all this energy, especially when it's that late at night. But the smile he gave me was adorable.

"Hi, I'm ready in just a second!" I left the door open for him to step in the house. Lucky him, my parents weren't there, because they'd probably have started one of their endless conversations with him. They just loved him, to which I'm not complaining. But, usually, as soon as he enters the house, they start asking him millions of questions. I pity him.

I took a final look at myself in the full-length mirror in the hall and turned back to him.

"You're going out wearing that?" He eyed me up and down and pointed at my outfit. I normally would've laughed in his face, but now I only wanted to jump at him.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I snapped at him. The small comment didn't make me laugh at all. In fact, it felt more like an insult. I looked down at my sleeveless top and long skirt, I didn't see what was the problem with it.

He raised his hands up in surrender, probably realizing just now that his comment wasn't appreciated. "Sorry, no harm intended, but if you wanted to get yourself a date tonight, might consider changing into something a little more...". I didn't let him finish his sentence.

"I don't need a man, Rog. Don't you know me at all?" I walked past him. I bumped his shoulder (maybe on purpose...) and headed straight out of my house. It's when I reached outside that I realized he did not follow me. When I turned back to him, I saw him staring back at me. "Are you coming or what? The drinks aren't gonna drink themselves." To that, I made my way to his old van.

The place was packed. I think the entire town was here. Lucky for me, that meant I’d meet a lot of people. But it also meant I had to make conversation to meet said people. That I was less excited about. Roger and I found a vacant place at the bar and both took a seat.

“What can I get you two?” The bartender immediately asked us. The service was amazing. We both got our drinks and started sipping (I personally drank in one go) and looked around. Everyone was talking loud, dancing, drinking, throwing up. Ew. I made a face and turned to my best friend.

“Did you see that? It’s disgusting! Please, if I get drunk tonight, stop me before I go that far.” I leaned into him. I spoke loudly to make sure he heard me over the sound of those miserable souls.

“You can count on me.” He gave me a quick wink, in return, I scrunched up my nose at him.

I spotted a young man, about a year or two older than me, from his spot at the other end of the bar. I wasn't close enough, but he was gorgeous. His raven black hair stood out in the crowd and I felt crushed under his gaze. He smiled slightly at me, and I did the same. I was tempted to walk his way, I completely forgot I was socially awkward. But I stopped myself.

"There's a guy looking at me." I mumbled to Roger who, surprisingly, was more focused on his drink than the older girls making eyes at him.

"Who?" He snapped his head up, looking around to find out who I was talking about. "That guy over there?" He pointed over his shoulder at the man himself.

"Yes, the guy over there! Now stop pointing at him!" I pushed his shoulder, and he, stumbled back dramaticly.

"He seems like an asshole, Y/N." He took a last glance at him and turned back to me, grabbing my shoulders.

"Should I go talk to him? Get his number?" I completely ignored him and kept staring at the man.

"No!" My best friend said, a little too loudly. I don't know why he was suddenly so protective, because back home, he seemed okay with me finding someone tonight. Apparently he changed his mind.

"M-okay..." I don't think I had the energy to go talk to him. 'What would I even say?'. I decided it was best if I didn't, so I turned back to my drink.

"It's your first night here, Y/N. You'll meet a lot of other men here. Just take it easy and enjoy your first night at a pub. Wouldn't want a wanker to ruin it for you, huh?" Roger asked me. He was right. I didn't think about this but, this is my first time here. There will be plenty of other times.

"I need to go to the bathroom, watch the drinks and don't get into any trouble." He looked me in the eye as if he didn't trust me.

"Yes, relax! I'll just stay here, dying of boredom." I rolled my eyes when he left.

I didn't have time to think about my next move, because I felt a light tapping on my shoulder. I quickly turned around to be met with the man. He had the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen in my entire life. He was really pretty.

"Hi, sorry for bothering you but, I saw you staring at me and...well I wanted to know if I could buy you a drink?" He shyly said. Adorable.

"Sure!" I beamed at him. At least tried to, I wansn't used to make conversation with strangers.

"I wasn't sure if you'd agree. But then I saw your boyfriend left, so..." He called the bartender over so we could both order our drinks.

"No need to worry, he's not my boyfriend. At times I don't even want to call him a friend." Bullshit, I know. I had a few drinks in me, and I was extremely nervous around the stranger. I definitely didn't mean what I said.

After making small talk over our drinks. I started to worry because it had been a couple minutes Roger had left. But then I saw him taking a smoke outside, and I would be lying if I said I didn't want to join him right now. When I turned around, I was nose to nose with the stranger. I gasped a little and stared into his green eyes.

"Come with me." He said and grabbed my arm, pulling me out of my seat.

"What? Where." I looked around for help because the shy man I had met a couple minutes ago was totally gone. The only thing that was left was a scary man that squeezed my arm tightly.

"To the bathroom." He led me on.

"No! I don't want to. Let me go!" I tried my best to get out of his grip. I could've twisted and turned my arm, but nothing worked. He still kept walking.

"Stop screaming or I'll give you a real reason to scream." He whipped his head back at me.

"What don't you understand in 'let me go' you wanker?" Oh, finally.

"Mind your own buisness, asshole!" The stranger yelled.

The only thing I heard was Roger chuckling because a second later, he was jumping at the man (literally). He didn't let him escape, he threw him to the floor and started throwing punches his way. Needless to say a crowd had formed around the two. Some were spurring them on, others gasped each time Rogers fist collided with the mans face.

"Roger, for the love of god stop it!" I told him. And he stopped. He looked at me, pupils blown, and his fist up in the air, ready to throw another punch.

"Just stop! Oh my god!" I took his arm to help him off the guy and lead him outside the pub.

"What is wrong with you!?" I snapped at him as soon as I felt the cold evening air hit my face.

"What is wrong with me? I told you to be careful! I was just trying to help!" He spat. "The guy was about to rape you and you think I would've let it happen?!"

"No! Of course not but there was a hundred of other ways you could've stopped him." My voice became a little softer.

"I knew taking you out was a bad idea. I just wanted to make you happy, you know?" He ran one of his bloody hands through his hair.

"Well you didn't!" I let out, a little too quickly. I was really glad he took me out for my birthday.

"Ouch," He mumbled.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Do you know how much it hurts to see you so oblivious? It's not like I'm trying to hide it!" He kept yelling at me. I haven't seen him this angry in a long time.

"Oblivious to what?" I asked softly.

"You really gave me no choice, huh?" He added.

"No choice? I don't understang Rog-" I cried out.

"I didn't want to fall in love with you, but I did."

He what? Since when? Why didn't I know? Does that mean all of our friendship was fake? Did he stay only because he was in love with me? A hundred questions went through my head but no words came out. There was a heavy silence between us. He was panting, and I was barely breathing.

"Why?" I simply said.

"Why what?"

"Why me? You could've chosen anybody in the world, why did you choose me, your best friend since I can't even remember?"

"Because, you're you! You're beautiful and kind, and you have one of the best personalities in the world! I would be ready to give anything for you to say yes, but I don't want to ruin what we have. Tonight, I saw the man hurting you, and I knew you were scared. It angered me so much to see someone treat you this badly, when I know I could give you the whole world." He softly said, tears in his eyes.

"Roger, I'm sorry. I can't deal with this right now, okay?" I nervously shook my hands and tried taking slow breaths. "Please just take me back home."

"Y/N-"

"Please." I asked again.

The ride home was dead silent. Me and Roger had argued multiple times. But this, I didn't know how to deal with this. It wasn't stupid friends arguments, no, this was way bigger. It changed our relationship completely. I couldn't think straight. To me, there was no way, ever, that one of us would catch feelings. Apparently I was wrong.

When I got out of the car, I turned back to him.

"You should come inside. I'll check your hands." I said shortly.

"You don't have to-"

"I said come in!" I snapped. I heard him sigh and turn off the engine of the van.

Once inside, we both took off our coats, shoes and I lead him into the bathroom.

"Sit." I pointed the the closed lid of the toilet. He immediately did so.

I took out some gauze pads and a bottle of saline solution. When I looked at him, he gave me a suspicious glance, he didn't trust me, again.

"I know what I'm doing." I mumbled.

"Sure," he gave me his right hand first. Although I hated him at the moment, I took his hand gently, not wanting to hurt him more than he already was. I gently patted the small cuts on his knuckles with the gauze soaked in saline solution, to which he hissed and let out small 'ow's.

"I told you, I know what I'm doing."

"Somehow, I don't believe you." He joked so I hit his shoulder.

"Ouch! I'm already hurt, be careful with me!" He smiled and giggled.

I gave him a small smile, which turned into a frown as soon as I remembered I was supposed to be mad at him. I saw a cut on the side of his left eyebrow, the man hit him back.

"Stay here, I'll get you some ice." I left the bathroom to look into my freezer. I didn't find any ice, but a bag of frozen peas could do the job. When I got back, he was looking around my bathroom, analysing every little detail. I told him he could get up. I headed to the living room, trying to think about anything else than the fight we had. But when I turned around, he was staring at me. Bag of peas no longer on his wound but in both his hands. He had the most adorable puppy dog eyes in the whole world. I could see tears in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you, or scare you but I just had to tell you the truth. And you might say you hate me, or want me out of your life, but I'm not leaving, Y/N! Not until you tell me why you don't want to do this. Give me a good reason and I'll leave, but please, don't push me away." Tears were now painting his cheeks. "Is it because I'm not good enough for you? Because I can change! Whatever it is, just tell me!"

"No, it's not that, Rog. It's just..." I don't know.

"Just what?"

"I don't want to be hurt." I whispered, fighting back my own tears.

"I would never hurt you! I'd rather die than to see you hurt. I want to give you the whole world, I'd do anything."

"Please tell me something-" I asked.

"Anything"

"If I was yours, and you were mine, would it always be like this?"

"Like what?" He seemed confused.

"Would you take care of me, and tell me beautiful things. Would you protect me and love me. Would you show me that you actually care?" I let out all at once

"Y/N, if you were mine, I'd consider myself the luckiest guy on Earth." He said softly.

A thousand thoughts went through my head. But in spite of this, I didn't feel regret, none at all. I reacted badly earlier, because I had been surprised. But now, the more I thought about it, the idea of us together didn't scare me. At all.

"Then make me yours." I cried.

He almost ran my way. And I stumbled back when he crashed his lips against mine. He took my breath away in a second. I kissed him back, with all my might. I didn't want him to leave. I needed him, and he needed me. We've been here for each other since day 1. I knew this wouldn't change anything at all. Only good could come out of this and I was glad I had him. He smiled through the kiss and pulled away gently for both of us the breathe some air.

"I love you so much." He smiled through his tears. "I love you more than anyone in this world."

"I love you too, Rog" I laughed.

He kissed me again, softly. I never wanted to let him go.

I would never let him go.

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #help plz #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon

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bi-naesala · 5 months

Text

Christmas Party

(Written as a gift for @gorokiichi for the @p3giftexchange . Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy the fic!)

Ken has never properly celebrated Christmas. His friends decide to do something about it.

(Tags: Christmas Party, Fluff, Light Angst, Team as Family)

AO3 link

(Fic under the cut)

Ken doesn’t really care about Christmas, but not by choice: it was a behavior he’s had to adopt in order not to get upset each year; between his mom having to work – she was raising Ken alone, she couldn’t afford taking too many days off – and the orphanage simply not caring enough to celebrate it each year – too many resources to dedicate for it – he’s learned to treat Christmas as one would treat any other day of the week.

It’s not like he ever felt like celebrating, after his mom died – he was never one for too much flair even before, after all – but she’d always find the time to at least spend the evening with him, or go eat dinner outside if she could make it in time, and to give him a gift – always small things because they couldn’t afford too much, but it meant the world to him anyway – but since staying at the orphanage, he’s learned not to wish for anything.

This year, Christmas will be different, as in he won’t be celebrating it at the orphanage, but in the dorm, with his new friends, the members of S.E.E.S., who have welcomed him as one of them – he doesn’t doubt his place among them anymore, not since, well, not since that happened.

Still, it’s unlikely they’ll actually do something for Christmas, not with all the things they already have on their plate – it would be a waste of time and energy, for something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things – or at least that’s what he thought, only to be proven wrong by his leader.

“What do you mean? You’ve never celebrated?” she asks him, once, while they’re hanging in the lounge room to watch TV. It was just a comment Ken made in passing, while suffering through the umpteenth ad break for Christmas products, but it’s made everyone’s head turn towards him; he doesn’t like the scrutiny.

He makes himself smaller on the couch, like that would be enough to shake their attention off of him. “Y-Yeah, I mean...” he stutters in reply. “It’s not a big deal, isn’t it?”

“Thinking about it, I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated it either...” Akihiko muses. “Just once, after I got adopted.” He then shrugs, like nothing about this is really important, which brings Ken some relief: at least he’s not the only one who thinks so!

Even Yukari chimes in, her expression turning sour as she speaks: “Ah, it’s been ages since I last celebrated. Me and dad used to make the biggest tree...”

Since he’s the only one from the old guard present at the moment, Hamuko turns towards Akihiko. “You’ve never celebrated at the dorms?” she asks, and when Akihiko shakes his head, a smile appears on her face. “That’s it, then: this year, we’re going to make the biggest Christmas party there has ever been!”

The news is met with silence, until Junpei, who still hasn’t said anything until then – Ken wonders if he celebrates with his father – raises his fist in the air.

“Hell yeah! Let’s do it!”

The motion for a Christmas party is approved by everyone, though some were more enthusiastic about it than others. Ken too doesn’t really know how to feel about it: he’s gone so long forcing himself to never desire anything for Christmas, and now, suddenly, he’s got an actual celebration. What is one supposed to do, during such an occasion? He has no idea.

He goes to Akihiko for counselling, even though he doesn’t really believe it’s going to help him; still, he wants to hear the opinion of someone who might understand how he feels. After October, the two of them have grown close, so even though he might not have something useful for him, talking to him will still bring him some comfort.

“What you should do?” Akihiko asks, stopping tormenting the punching bag to turn towards Ken. “You mean, for the party?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I’ve never done this before, I don’t know how I should act...”

For a moment, the only sound that can be heard is of Akihiko catching his breath, before joining Ken on the bed.

“I think you should be yourself. It’s just a party between us, after all, nothing formal.”

“You said you celebrated with your adopted family. What did you do?”

Akihiko chuckles nervously, looking away, but he still answers the question. “Oh, nothing much: we went eating outside, then we went around shopping. I wasn’t really in my best mood, so I don’t remember much else...”

There’s more to this story, Ken can tell, but he’s not sure if it is his place to ask for more, despite his curiosity.

“How about you go to Hamuko? I’m sure she can help you better than I can,” Akihiko continues, unaware of Ken’s internal monologue.

Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

He doesn’t know why he hesitates when he knocks on her door.

“Um, Hamuko-san?”

“Coming!”

The door bursts open almost immediately, making Ken flinch as it almost hits him. The one who’s just opened it isn’t Hamuko, however, but Aigis; a brief look inside the room reveals that their leader is at her desk, submersed in magazines.

“Don’t mind her,” she immediately says, referring to Aigis’s presence – as if by now everyone hasn’t gotten used to her peculiar attachment to Hamuko already – turning then to look at him. “What is it, Ken? Having problems with something?”

He shakes his head. He can’t deny that Aigis’ intense stare makes him feel too exposed, but he pushes through this feeling.

“I was just wondering... for the party...”

At those words, her expression turns into one of pure excitement. “Oh yes! Tell me! I have already organized everything. We just need to coordinate to get all we need and--”

“Um, I was wondering... Can I help?”

“Oh?” Hamuko starts, a bit flustered for having been caught right at the beginning of a rambling session. “Yes, yes of course! I have just the job for you!”

The job, apparently, is to decorate the lounge. Yukari and Junpei have gone out to buy some decorations they can use, but they still need to be hanged around.

“You could be our interior decorator,” Hamuko had suggested, and even though Ken knew nothing about the subject, he still agreed to it: he wanted to be useful.

At least he’s not alone: he has Aigis’ help for when he needs to reach particularly high places – it enrages him that he’s not tall enough to be able to do it on his own – and Koromaru’s, who’s there mostly for moral support, but his contribution is most appreciated nonetheless.

He’s not following a precise scheme when he tells Aigis that they should hang the wreath on that specific wall, or when he disposes the red candles on the table in groups, three on one side, four on the other; he’s just trying to remember how he used to imagine his home when he used to daydream about having a true Christmas celebration with his mom, before forcing himself to stop doing that. Of course, it won’t feel the same as it would’ve in the fantasy, but it’s okay: they can make something completely different, and it’ll be great either way, he’s sure of it.

He may not be contributing to much – most of the decorations are set by Aigis – but it still makes him feel like he's part of something.

They’re almost done with the room decorations, when he starts to smell something; whatever it is, it must be good.

Koromaru must agree with him, because he bolts to the kitchen, followed close by Ken. It looks like Hamuko is cooking, and he’s curious to discover what, since she’s been very secretive about it until now. If he's able, he'd even like to get a taste of it.

Unfortunately, neither of them can even make it to the kitchen, as Fuuka stands right outside of it.

“H-Halt!” she exclaims, in a failed attempt to sound intimidating. “Y-You can’t pass, orders from the chief!”

Ah, so she’s meant to keep others away while Hamuko works her magic. Makes sense, though it’s weird that she’s not been more involved, given how they pretty much cook everything together – it’s mostly Fuuka trying to copy what Hamuko is doing, to various degrees of success, though – but well, with Akihiko and Mitsuru still out, and Yukari and Junpei on the second floor, he supposes she was the only one readily available for the job.

“Fuuka-san, please! Just a peek?” Ken begs, accompanied by Koromaru’s sad whining – nice job, Koromaru! She won’t be able to say no to that for sure!

It does indeed seem that she’s about to crack, but then she finds her resolution again.

“N-No, I can’t!” Her expression turns softer. “Please, I can’t disappoint Hamuko-chan like this...”

Ken doesn’t roll his eyes only because he respects her too much for that, but she is being a bit too dramatic for something so little. Oh well, it’s obvious that he won’t be able to change her mind, so the kitchen will unfortunately remain inaccessible for a bit.

“Okay, Fuuka-san, we’ll behave,” he promises her.

After all, there’s still one more thing that needs to be taken care of, something he should get to as soon as he can.

When it comes to decorating the three, Junpei and Yukari give them a hand as well.

“We bought these decorations, we want to hang them too!” Junpei said. It’s not like Ken would’ve said no to free help, so he shrugged and let them do their thing.

Here they are, now, decorating the tree, with Ken taking care of the lower levels – where he can reach – while the others do the higher ones. He’s not much of a fan of these decorations, if he has to be honest: they’re too big, too loud – such a saturated red, it hurts his eyes if he looks at them for too long – but... when put together, it doesn’t look too bad. Maybe he’s saying that just because he contributed to making it, and he doesn’t want to say his work is bad, but eh, he doesn’t care.

Only one thing remains: the star at the top. Ken’s holding it and turning it in his hand – it’s shiny – before raising his gaze to the others. “I want to put it on,” he says, feeling extremely proud at the fact that he doesn’t stutter, standing tall. It’s childish to attribute so much importance to something like this, but that doesn’t change the fact that he wants to be the one to do it.

“Of course you can!” Yukari exclaims, immediately turning towards Junpei. “You help him.”

“What? Why me?” he replies, but knowing that Yukari won’t budge, he sighs, before turning towards Ken. “Alright, hop on in!”

He does exactly that, hopping on Junpei’s shoulders as he gets him to the top of the tree, Aigis standing not too far behind to catch him in case he gets dropped – he hopes that doesn’t happen.

It’s right then that Akihiko and Mitsuru make it back. They get inside hastily, shaking for the cold; held in their hands, there are bags full of what Ken assumes are gift – they’ve been tasked with getting something for everyone.

“Hi, senpai!” Yukari greets them, rushing to them in order to help with the bags.

“Hey, I’m sure glad to be back,” Akihiko comments, shivering as he shrugs off his jacket. Ah, it’s so warm inside.

Mitsuru is the first to notice Ken on Junpei’s shoulders. Her curiosity piqued, she walks towards them. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, just finishing up the tree!” Junpei replies, adjusting Ken on his shoulders. “C’mon, little man.”

Ken frowns at the nickname, but he still does as he said, finally putting the star at the top, with even some trepidation that he will later deny ever feeling, if somebody asks.

To be frank, he was expecting more “sparks”, for this moment to be more magical than what it’s actually been, but there’s still a sense of pride dwelling inside him for what he’s accomplished, even with the looks the others are giving him, like he’s just some kid, but just this once he supposes he can let it slide.

“Where is ev-- Oh, hey guys!”

After what feels like forever since she’s stepped inside the kitchen, Hamuko has finally joined them, followed by Fuuka.

“Um, dinner ready!” she announces.

“Who’s in the mood for some fried chicken?” Hamuko continues.

“That’s what you made?” Akihiko asks.

She nods. “Yeah! I figured we could eat something homemade here, instead of going out and freezing to death.”

Oh, so that’s what the smell was. At least Ken knows, now; he can’t wait to taste it.

Apparently, he’s not the only one, as Junpei immediately exclaims: “Dibs!”

They all reunite at the dinner table.

Junpei – who in the meantime has switched to a stupid Santa hat instead of his usual one – keeps chanting for Hamuko to bring out the food, a sentiment to which Ken agrees, sure, but jeez, must he be so childish about it?

And then, Hamuko and Fuuka finally start bringing their plates and o-oh, it looks so inviting... He wants to...

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Hamuko says, once she settles down with her plate as well. “Let’s dig in!”

It’s so tasty! As good as it looks!

Ken remembers getting fried chicken sometimes with his mom, but it had tasted nothing like this. Homemade really tastes better, though it’s also true that they’re lucky Hamuko is so good at basically everything.

He wonders if he would’ve enjoyed it.… Knowing him, he would’ve probably insisted on preparing it himself, or at least helping; would it have tasted different, had he contributed to it too?

Maybe he should visit him, wish him a merry Christmas as well. If not after dinner, maybe tomorrow? He glances at Akihiko; he’ll ask him if he wants to come with him – he’ll surely say yes, he doesn't doubt it - but not now: it’ll ruin the mood, and he doesn’t want that, not when he’s enjoying himself so much.

How long has it been since they’ve last eaten all together, or have simply talked about anything that wasn’t Tartarus related? For now, the most popular topic is guessing what kind of gift has been bought for them, which is a nice change – Ken can’t help but to wonder as well, though he supposes he’ll get to know soon enough.

And to think that, if he hadn’t made that comment that time, maybe none of this would’ve happened, maybe nobody would’ve thought to make a big party to celebrate Christmas together, but here they are now, having the time of their lives despite – or in spite? - of everything.

Is this how it feels, to have a true celebration with family? Ken doesn’t know, but he’s sure of one thing: if this isn't how it feels, then it’s definitely close, and for him, that’s more than enough.

#ken amada #shiomi kotone #akihiko sanada #aigis #koromaru #fuuka yamagishi #junpei iori #yukari takeba #mitsuri kirijo #persona #p3 #persona 3 #my fics #mine

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hushpuppy5-blog · 1 year

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Being around other young women (certain ones at least), I’ve noticed that they always want me to dissect myself alongside themselves. We can be in the public restroom, washing our hands, and all of a sudden she’s looking at herself intently. She touches her eyes, her nose, her lips…Then she proceeds to ask me, “What do you think is your best feature?”

I always thought this was a weird question, and insulting if closely examined. To them, I can’t like my physical self as a unified state. I can’t exactly be a “whole” being if I’m picking myself apart that way. Most of what I look like can’t be changed outside of diet and exercise. No, a lot of the women that do this want me to wallow in the self-defeatist mindset of not being attractive enough, specifically heterosexual women with an obsession with men. I don’t exactly have what are considered petite features by western standards either, so being forced to put myself under a mental knife is distracting for my personal growth. I spent too much time worrying about being ugly to people who perceive themselves to be better than me in looks either way, but are severely diminished in personality. Even worse, I wasted time feeling ugly to men I wasn’t even remotely attracted to. I was taught that they’d treat you better if you appealed to them visually. How sinister is that?

I think it’s weird how adamant they are about me changing my appearance. What happened to being beautiful in my own way? Beauty isn’t all about the conventional. I find spiritually beauty far more enlightening then what they’re trying to get me to follow. When I stopped slicing myself into the “best pieces”, my mental fog started to clear and I realized I was around distracting people. They want me to focus on what I think about myself when they already think I’m not worth a damn in the looks department anyway. They ask to confirm if you have too much confidence. Heck, even when I said I thought I was beautiful all around, she came back at me with a very condescending, “So much confidence…” lol almost like it offended her for me to like myself. That’s the dark side of people like that. They reflect their insecurities onto you and desire for you to feel bad. When you feel “ugly” you stop taking care of yourself. You don’t bathe, you don’t eat right, and you may even become a doormat since they’ve made you believe that you’re appearance is worth more than mental growth. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror for a long time because of this damaged mindset. Not even the brush my teeth. When you’re naturally aligned with yourself and are not overly attached to the physical, as I’ve started to learn, you start to naturally de-age yourself and live longer, and I emphasize the live part. I stopped poisoning myself with certain skin-care and dietary habits (which were largely meant for self-destruction) and what do you know, my body matched what was going on internally. I look and feel more alive than ever. When I stopped being a zombie, I stopped looking like one with the sunken eyes and disheveled clothes. No, males don’t talk to me on a large-scale, and some may see that as a measure of “low-worth” for a woman. I see it as a plus if some males fear talking to a woman. It’s about your energy. Plenty of women talk to me just fine and enjoy my company, so I don’t think it’s my personality lol. When you’re a woman who stops caring about what the moids and fem-bots think, you become almost monstrous and “ugly” in their eyes, regardless of your beauty. You’re inconceivable.

#beauty standards #beauty #obssesive #feminism #makeup #mental health #self healing #spiritual vampires #the good the bad and the ugly

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pluralismajestatis · 2 years

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I'm not sure I have the right words for this, but I'll try, since it's been on my mind for a few days. My relationship to, and existing between, illness and health - embodying the slow-processing state of wasting away, approaching death.

It's not my primary purpose here, to be that balance or calm, but it's something I'm falling into... comfortably.

This is not about the body. Which to me, is something I'm struggling to understand even now; that the concept of approaching my death, living my last few... days, weeks, months, is no longer relevant, and I haven't had the time, or energy, to touch upon it yet. Meanwhile, the system finds comfort in my acceptance of it, my acceptance and understanding of the limitations of the body, its weakness and exhaustion. I am not worried. I have been dying for a long time. Decades. I don't know when it started, exactly. It's hard to say when the pain coming from the outside began to poison me from the inside.

We all know this is part of why I'm here. My history of growing up is the same as the system's history of growing up when it comes to poisons and being poisoned. We were both taught to fear, and fear became so deeply ingrained in us that it grew into something that was slowly killing the body it resided in. Mine, and ours. I'm an allegory, after all. I've always been one. A nod of acknowledgement to people eaten alive by their wasted potential, futures robbed of them by abuse, fear, and prejudice. The people meant to care for them and love them, support and encourage them. Protect them. Chronic stress is a silent killer. Pain, isolation, loneliness compound it. It eats at the body from the inside: the brain, the muscles, the veins, the nerves.

We used to fear death. Gradually, it's become less. In some way, I might just be the culmination of that growth - the peace we've made with our fragility. We've come to terms with things we keep to ourselves, that we don't talk about. Death, and the process of dying, seems to be a personal matter to us. It's talked about somewhat often here, on the inside. And now, me; I've already accepted that I will die. It doesn't frighten me. I submit to it, but I don't hurry it along. Like I said, I've not really internalised it yet that I might be well now; my soul is still in the process of dying, preparing for death. I am tired and I'd like to just be comfortable - rest, finally. I take this all minute at a time, focus on what is relevant now, because to me, there is no tomorrow, or next year, or any future to speak of that I'd still be a part of. I've played my part and I am ashes - it's someone else's turn, now.

They've described me as "only partially here." My mind is still elsewhere. My consciousness here is a fever dream. I was already losing grip of "real" on the other side I've left behind. But I bring calm to them, a sense of stillness we can all share together. No tomorrow. No future. Just now, and what matters now. Making ourselves comfortable; sating our thirst, hunger, regulating our temperature. Participating only as we wish to - not as is expected of us.

What I've already said is that I'd like to stay, but even for now, in the moment, I feel better knowing I've brought something positive with me to one family. I've been embraced here. The first nights I was with them, they stayed with me until sleep. They made me comfortable, showed kindness, and spoke in soft voices, moved slowly and deliberately so as to not scare me. I asked, am I welcome here? They told me, I'm wanted.

I can heal, but I hope healing won't make me afraid. All bodies fail, after all; it's a matter of time. I've lived with worse pain, worse nausea, worse weakness and deterioration than any of us feel here. Every piece of us here feels alive, where what I was before was dying, nearly dead. I feel warm here and no longer freezing in my bones. We have so much left to us still, so much that hasn't burned away. I wonder if, as I heal, as I stubbornly continue to survive, maybe the healing of the soul could transform into healing of the vessel as well.

#cw #did #death tw #dying tw #health tw #introject #fictive #tagging primarily for clarity.#the relationship between introjection and mirroring is an interesting one #and maybe one day we'll have more coherent thoughts on it.#for now - I like many others am just a spirit traveller from someplace else.#a piece falling into place to complete a picture I'm not familiar with.#cw post

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persavant · 5 months

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Acceptance

Gavil sat slumped in the car seat, wishing he had risked going into the rain. He'd ran out of food, just as a hailstorm came, and wanted to play it safe. Turns out, as he grew weaker and weaker from starvation, that had not been the right call. Double that with the fact his weakened immune system had gotten sick anyway, made the situation all that much funnier.

Pebble-sized pellets of ice had just now stopped pelting the broken down car he called his home, raining down and into the broken windshield he never bothered to repair with anything besides tape and plastic bags, away from where he lived in the relatively rainproof back of the pile of scrap. Even the trunk was fine, making for excellent storage.

Storage, which he'd failed to use.

He sighed tiredly. There was no way he could go far enough to find anything. He would collapse onto the wet ground, without the small warmth his amalgamation of scrapped clothing turned blanket provided.

He was going to die.

He found that the notion didn't concern him as much as it should.

He wasn't surprised, really. The notion hadn't concerned him for a long time.

It was, in fact, partially why he was here in the first place. Taking gambles that, if worked out, would lead to a life he'd be satisfied with, instead of going the hard way and trying to stick with a proper job.

As was clear, those gambles did not, in fact, work out.

He coughed, a deep wet cough from the bottom of his lungs, muffled by phlegm. Yep, he was dying, alright.

He moved his right hand over to his left, giving his thin arm a weak squeeze.

Everything would be alright. He had made it.

He chuckled, which sounded more like coughing to any would-be listeners. He would talk to himself, out loud, but he kind of couldn't. He liked talking to himself like that, it brought a quality of... Tangibility, to his mono-dialogue. Heh, tangibility, such a fancy word for such a downtrodden man.

Life wasn't fair, but it had been a long time since he stopped caring about things outside his control.

Perhaps, if he had, if he had tried to fight back, the mere futile act would have gotten him somewhere else.

He found that he didn't really care if that had gotten him somewhere else. Somehow, he was happy where he was. If things had gone better, he would have happily accepted that, but since they hadn't, he didn't regret going down a path he didn't regret.

He said a quiet whisper of an apology to all the people he could be, had he not chosen to be himself. It was a sound that, even if loud enough to be heard, would never reach its intended audience, if there was such an audience in the first place.

It was the sentiment that mattered, really. At this point, sentiments were all he had. And thus, they were all that mattered.

He whispered another apology, to all the people who had helped him out. Tried to make him get himself together. Such goodwill, wasted on a man who would be fine no matter what. He appreciated the sentiments, he really did, but there were people who probably could have used, taken the help more than he did.

He was happy helping people cost so little. That meant the help wasted on him was not much of a burden to the good people who tried.

And, to the good people who didn't, he wished them the best of luck with their lives. It wasn't their fault he didn't ask for the help. It wasn't their obligation to help a nobody who was doing just fine.

He coughed again, his entire body shaking as it spent its last vestiges of energy, trying in vain to get rid of a pest that would kill it.

He chuckled, and gave another quiet apology, to his body that tried oh so hard to keep him alive. If he had tried half as hard as it did, then he would not be here.

He found himself glad that his body wasn't a conscious entity that could feel suffering. If it was, he would feel bad about making it go through this.

He gargled, and spat out a large chunk of phlegm, and took a shuddering breath. Whew, that made breathing hard for a moment there.

The thought made him laugh, throwing him into a coughing fit. The more he coughed, the more he laughed, leading to a dragged-on cough-laugh that sounded like someone with pneumonia who heard the world's funniest joke, and was dying because of it. It wasn't too far off the truth.

Once he calmed down, pulled the blanket as close as he could, and briefly wondered if anyone heard that.

...

If they had, they weren't coming.

Good.

He didn't have any money to pay the hospital bills with, anyway.

Wow, that sounded awfully hostile. It was true, but he would probably end up getting a second shot at life as a result of it, in prison maybe. He never hated the idea of going to prison, so long as he wasn't mistreated too harshly.

He briefly thought about calling for help.

Eh. It wasn't worth it. He would probably end up back here again, the way he was, and this was a nice way to die.

Wrapped up in blankets, enjoying the company of the only person who's been with him throughout everything. Sure, his stomach churned, his body was frail, he was thirsty, he couldn't breathe properly, and was literally dying, but it was nice. Once you gave up the struggle to live, death was a pleasant thought.

He wondered if there was an afterlife of some kind. He'd lost faith long ago, and went into this expecting oblivion, but who knew, maybe there was something at the end.

...

Eeeh, probably not. He would find out soon, anyway.

He started to slide, and fell to the side, leaning against the car door he'd fortified with tape, plastic bags, and cardboard. Somehow, it was dry. He felt proud of his handiwork.

He'd always been good at making scrappy, makeshift things like this. Heh, one could say this was the perfect career choice for him. He shivered a bit as cold air entered from the hole made in his cacoon, and he weakly fixed it with his legs, the best he could. He pulled his legs to himself, sliding even more sideways, and pulled shut the bottom of the mis-mash of cloth the best he could. He probably could have gotten back up, but eh, it wasn't really worth it. He wished he had a pillow, though. There was technically one above him, intended for a passenger to lean their head against, but he was too tired to get it, so he shuffled up towards the door, putting his head against it and hoping it didn't open. Luckily, it didn't, sparing his creation a stress it wasn't made to take.

...

He only wished his creator, if there was one, cared about him as much as he did about his own creations.

As a kid, he'd dreamt of working on AI, making properly sentient algorithms through some oh-so-mystical technique based on psychology. He would've given them all the tools they could need to navigate their roles, and taken responsibility for any flaws he put in them, even if they cursed or even killed him.

He remembered a younger version of him dreaming of punching god, promising to go down swinging or at least cursing to hell. At this point, he didn't see the point in it, but, he would see if he can do it, for lil' Gavil.

One such promise he'd made is that he'd never be alone.

And, sighing contently, he could say that was a promise well-kept. People said talking to yourself was insanity, but it wasn't his fault he made such good company.

Not that he cared about being called insane, really. Most people would consider him insane for laying down and accepting death like this, he would be considered weak, a loser, a defeatist. Some would pity him, some would say he got what was coming to him.

But, to him, this was a good enough place to leave things. He didn't need to try to win, to make the most of his life, or whatever. Life was a game you won by reaching a line you choose for yourself. And this, right here, was where he was placing his victory line. With the one person who loves him the most, surrounded by his work, and at peace. This was all he could ask for, really, and he found that he was truly satisfied with this.

This was both a middle finger to the universe, and not.

On one hand, the universe didn't care. He was one person out of billions dying in some abandoned broken-down car. Literally no one cared. Not the assholes who only cared for themselves, not the actually nice people who would be scrambling to help him if only they knew.

What made this a victory in his eyes was that he didn't care, too. He didn't care that the universe didn't care, not that the assholes were being assholes, and he was happy to not burden those who would care. His only regret was not being able to give back something to the world, to the people who cared and helped.

But, he knew better than to care about things outside his control, now.

He noticed he was getting sleepy. His rasped breaths were slowing down.

I'm sorry, everyone who cared.

I'm sorry, that you have to deal with all those who do not.

I'm sorry, all the kind strangers I did not meet.

And I'm thankful, me.

A fuzzy warmth filled his chest, in stark contrast to the rest of his limp, cold body.

Let's find out the one question we never figured out.

He looked up at the ceiling, a smile on his face, and tears in his eyes, basking in the feeling until his consciousness faded.

#fiction #writing #writeblr #original story #tw depressing stuff #spilled ink #Decided to write something this is the result #writers on tumblr #original post #tw hopelessness #kind of #i'm new to tumblr #Tell me if there are any other tags I should put on #tw sui ideation #sort of

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maerenee930 · 10 months

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random thoughts.

mostly just me rambling and kinda venting.

so many thoughts in my head and i wanna get them out but i don’t even know where to start 😣

it’s been such a long few weeks and i just feel so alone and lonely 😞

and you would think that talking to people majority of the day that i wouldn’t feel like this. but it’s not exactly like those are like genuine conversations.

and i talk with my coworkers but most of the time we get interrupted because we have a member to help. (not complaining about us having to do our jobs lol. i just meant like we don’t fully finish a lot of conversations cause we do have members to take care of.)

i know i can reach out to people.

i know i should just text people.

but sometimes i feel like it’s so hard to convey just how i’m feeling over text without worrying it sounds like i’m just super whiny or annoying.

and i know i can ask people if they wanna like facetime or hangout, i just know though that i’ve been so tired after work that most nights i don’t have a lot of energy and don’t feel like doing much after work 😓 i mostly just wanna lay down and watch tv or cuddle with someone (besides my cat lol)

and i know hanging out with someone who just wants to lay in bed and watch tv or facetiming someone who doesn’t necessarily feel up to talking that much (or needs to vent about work 😓) isn’t all that fun 🙁

i worry that my free time is being wasted. mostly because when i have a day off in the middle of the week, it’s hard to plan something with anyone cause they are probably working. (plus like most of my issues when it comes to me feeling lonely, i don’t want to bother anyone or make them feel like they have to hang out with me or talk with me 😣 gotta love anxiety, right? ugh 🤦‍♀️)

and even on my days off, i don’t have a lot of energy to do a lot. like i have plenty of stuff i need to take care of in just my room alone, but i can’t motivate myself to do it and i can’t seem to find the energy mentally, emotionally or physically to get it done (or even some of it done) 😓

so i’m just frustrated with myself. i am i intent ally but fully aware of the fact that i self sabotage myself in many many ways.

it’s like though i can’t seem to get out of my own way to do what i need and want to for myself.

i know i need outside help or another voice of encouragement to do things.

(which i realize i should be able to do that for myself and i shouldn’t rely on anyone else to be that extra push for me. i just know how my brain works though and i know that’s what works for me and really helps me.)

i think what also doesn’t help is that my free time doesn’t even really like it’s mine because it goes by so quickly and i feel like i don’t actually get to enjoy it. you know? idk if that makes any sense 😣

i know this is a thing other people go through. i know that i’m certainly not the first person to feel this way and i know that i’m definitely not and won’t be the last. and i know that at some point almost every adult feels this way in life and with/because of their job.

it’s just a tough things to adjust to. still. (i felt this way to a degree at my previous job. in all fairness, it is a lot better than it was while i was at my last job. but idk with just how tough it’s been lately, it feels pretty similar to how it did then. if that makes sense…? it’s not the same situation and the work environment is much better! but idk… maybe this is just apart of being an adult… 😞)

i just don’t want to lose what little of a personal and social life that i have.

it may not be a super active social life. but it’s mine and i love it.

and i miss it 😔😭

does this feeling ever go away? or at least get easier to deal with? does it ever feel like our time (or free or personal time) is truly ours? like even though it may be short or goes by quickly, does it ever get better or back to feeling like our own time/our time away from work is truly ours again? where you can really let everything go and just be present in those moments and enjoy it and not have it feel like it flies by.?

or is this what life is…? like from now on and period. is this what i have to look forward to. this constant heartache or wanting to just live my life but having to wait to do so until i have the time and hopefully energy mentally, emotionally and physically to? or force myself to enjoy it even when my body and mind/heart don’t feel up to it so o don’t feel like i’m wasting it…?

is this seriously it…? it can’t be. please tell me it isn’t and that it’s not true. i mean i feel like it is, but let me for one minute feel and believe it isn’t so i don’t lose all hope and let my depression consume me even more than i feel it already has 😣😭

random side note - i’ve always felt a connection to belle from beauty and the beast, i’ve just always loved her and felt like to a degree i always understood how she felt about her town and wanting more out of her life. but now as an adult (and especially right now, “i want adventure in the great wide somewhere. i want it more than i can tell. and for once it might be grand, to have someone understand. i want so much more than they’ve got planned” has never hit closer to home or hit me more more in the feels than it does right now 😭🖤

also, i’m fully aware that pto and vacation time are things and i’m sure that helps lol. but atm i’m still a bit confused on how all of that works at my job now. especially because they pass around a calendar in january and that’s when everyone is supposed to put in their requests for their vacation and pto. but since i started in march, finally hit my 90 days back in early june and now have pto and am starting to accrue vacation (and have sick) time, how does that work for me…? especially because it’s just about august and i’m not sure how long all of that time lasts for, if i can use any of it soonish (not necessarily right away or anything. just trying to think if i can and possibly when i can cause it’s nice to think about and let myself think about having some time away from work 😅) and how do i go about putting requests in for that time? or if it doesn’t carry over, are we able to like cash in un-used days…? (my sister-in-law looked at my employee handbook and read all of this info to me about a week ago, but she read it while we were driving home from somewhere, and i was driving so i wasn’t like completely paying attention/processing what she said. and i did go over this with our hr person when we met after my 90 day performance review, but that was also back in the beginning of june, it was a lot of info for one kinda quick meeting and it’s just a lot to take in. i realize i can and should ask someone, but i’m nervous to. for many reasons. i know i have to figure this out at some point anyway so i really should just ask someone to either explain it all to me again and go over it again with me or ask them to help me better understand, but idk… i just feel stupid asking about it and o feel selfish. you know? 😣😓)

#random thoughts #ramblings #rambling #kinda venting #feeling… idek #i’m just here and kind of an emotional mess #so basically how i always am lol #but for real #it’s just hitting me really hard right now 😣😞

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testicoolarcancer · 2 years

Text

Infection

November 21, 2015 (12 years old)

The sun shone in my face with an obnoxious vibrancy. It taunted me as I struggled to wake up. I lifted one eyelid, which felt as if it was made of lead. The light was blinding that my eyelid quickly flitted closed.

The weird thing was, I wanted to wake up.

So I quickly made a plan. I rolled of my bed, across the turquoise blue carpet, and into the mighty shadow of my ornate, white-painted dresser as if I were some kind of paranoid vampire. But no, that sucks very much.(Ha ha.)“Summer,”I mused. “Something about it.”

I snapped open my eyelids again, which slowly adjusted to the lesser amount of light. But their attention was snagged on my knee.

You could barely tell there was a band-aid at all. The color of the material nearly blended into my knee, and its only distinguishing factor was that tiny difference in color and the odd pattern that its fibers were woven in. But something was unusual about it today.

It itched. It felt like an oversized mosquito was trapped under it, gorging on blood. “That wouldn’t be normal,”I thought. Here are my thoughts on that itch now that I am eleven: If the simile is not normal, and you are not using hyperbole, then whatever you are comparing the simile to is not normal. But at the time, I was just a wee six year old. So do not judge.

I clomped out of my bedroom, with the random word “pus” faintly tickling at the back of my mind as I came to a large room. It had wooden walls, laden with windows, and a brilliant view of East Seattle. And a smidge of Downtown Seattle. And Apple Middle-School. And a humongous tree threatening to flatten everybody in my neighborhood’s houses during a windstorm.(Which happily hasn’t happened yet.)

This is the “Viewroom”.

I braced myself for the sun’s harsh brightness, but the energy was wasted. I plopped down on the scratchy carpet, and admired the randomly-ominous-looking-clouds that had just spared my eyes. “At least something cares,”I told myself, and resumed itching the band-aid.

By the time my mom was up and out of her bedroom, the randomly-ominous-looking-clouds had fogged up the entire sky,(as they often do on regular Seattle mornings) and I was sitting in the corner, itching my knee madly and drawing pictures of cute cats and rabbits with oversized heads on construction paper(as I also often did).

The clouds offered a silky light to filter through as Mom cooked chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. their mouth-watering aroma wafted into the Viewroom through a window that was connected to the kitchen. Charleston, my stepdad (technically speaking)awoke and helped Mom make pancakes.

All of this happy stuff is slightly misleading. Time for me to add in another factor of my everyay life. Brujo.

Our neighbors, Tracy and Staple own a beautiful, emerald colored talking parrot, whose name is Brujo. That means “male witch”. Every morning (but increasingly less often) Tracy takes Brujo outside on her deck to teach him to speak new words. Not that this is a bad thing, but it’s just rather… deafening.

Anyways, I was in the Viewroom, luxuriating on the scratchy carpet, with all a bunch of bright toys surrounding me, begging to be played with. As Mom was yelling for me to come to the table and eat breakfast, she was interrupted by a blood-curdling shriek.

My cats, Smokey and Quesadilla dove under the couch.

“Oh, not again,”Charleston mumbled. And strangely, the word “pus” tickled at the back of my mind again, whatever that meant.

“CRACKER! APPLE-CRACKER!” Brujo shrieked, flapping like crazy. “Brujo! Calm down! And stop ripping your blanket apart!” Tracy ordered in vain. “PEEKABOO!” Brujo squaked, and then, miraculously quieted down.

“Hi there, Brujo!”I yelled, poking my head out of the door to the deck.

“Well, you better eat your breakfast,”Mom sighed.

I sat down and burrowed myself into the seat, savoring the irresistible gooey chocolate in the light fluffy pancakes. They are the best, and I have not eaten them in years. Yet I still scratched my knee like a maniac. It must’ve looked bad, because my parents were concerned.

Not that they don’t care a lot, but I just get bit by mosquitoes more than most. Saying that they care a lot about me would be an understatement. I am my mom’s idol. This can be annoying.

Charleston caught sight of my knee mid-scratch. I froze. “Soapy? Is your knee okay?” he asked awkwardly.

“Naw, it’s probably just a mosquito.” Charleston walked away to inform my mom, the matriarch of worrying.

“‘Pus’,”I thought. “I know what that means.”

I had memorized it from a disgusting rhyme my mom taught me when I was two for a reason that I do not know. This is how it goes. “The worms crawl in. The worms crawl out. The worms play peaknuckle on your snout. Your eyes they turn a ghastly green… pus comes out like whipping-cream!”

The reason I had remembered it at that moment was because Mom had just ripped off the band-aid, and yes indeed, there was pus coming out of the infected cut.

“Not good,”she quavered.

The pus spilled on the carpet, as if in response.

Charleston appeared in the middle of the hallway with a brown bottle which he held like a trophy. I had seen my granny using the liquid in it when she visited us from Aberdeen. I had no idea what it was.

He put a towel under my leg, and dipped a swab in the bubbly clear liquid. When the swab was over-burdened with the liquid at the point of dripping, he swiped it across the cut. “AGGGGHHHHH!” I screamed. The liquid was startlingly cold and stung.

It fizzed like mentos in coke, and at the time I had quickly made the inference that it was bubbling water. But it actually felt awesome to be killing a bunch of germs that quickly. So I bit my tongue to keep from crying out.

How did it happen, you ask? Well, my parents asked the same question, and at that moment I had become caught in my thoughts, remembering exactly how it happened.

It was a summer afternoon.

Light filled the sky and filtered into a dark, dusty room, where only a bit of light was showing. And this was purposeful.

I was inside of a room full of rowdy kids watching a movie about monkeys traveling through a wormhole that end up saving a planet. This was at a community center called Greenlake Community Center. This was a summer camp.

Other older and taller kids were filling in the room, so I decided to get a bit closer to the TV to see better.

As I flamboyantly slid across the old, scuffed up, wooden floor, and a splinter from the bottom of it stuck up and slit my knee. I stifled a wail as councilors surrounded me, bringing a first-aid kit.

“Are you okay, S-K?”

“Do you need help getting up?”

As the councilors clucked about me like crazed chickens, I thought up answers to their questions.

“No, I would feel a lot better if you stopped crowding me. Do not pity me!” But what I really said was this: "No, I’m okay.”

They proceeded to put the band-aid on my cut, which was now a crimson pool, dribbling on the floor a little.

As they pulled out a sterile antibiotic pad and tried to clean the cut, I shrank away. When they tried to lunge for my leg, I ducked and ran through their legs. It was like a scene from a ninja movie. This also shows how much I hated getting cuts cleaned.

In the end, they gave up, handing me the band-aid, which I quickly slapped on the cut.

Only now did I realize my error.

Not that I actually told my parents. They would clean any scratches or gauges I would get really hard. And they would probably be angry.

“I don’t remember,”I replied in a convincing voice, pulling a fake thinking face.

The next morning, Mom drove me to a pharmacy in Alberta Junction. The inside looked… green, I guess.

As one of the pharmacists at the store studied my infection, she made a worried face. Yet that did not hinder me. She had thought it was a really bad staff infection, but upon closer inspection, it was just a strep infection. It had gotten the same bacteria in it as in the sickness strep throat. That’s probably why it was so pus-y.

The next day we went to the doctor’s office and confirmed that it was a strep infection. We picked up an ointment and some medicine from Bartells, and drove back home to apply it.

Every day I forced myself to swallow the sickly-sweet sulfa-based medicine. The ointment wasn’t so bad, though.

Time flew by. One week my granny visited.

I followed the same medicine routine every day, but otherwise it was the way summer was suppose to be.

Until one night.

One night before dinner, I noticed a red dot on my arm. It was kind of itchy, so I assumed it was a mosquito bite. As I walked to the table, I noticed more appearing all over my legs.

“Those darn mosquitoes!”I scoffed. “There sure are a lot of them.”

I ate a delicious dinner, but still more appeared. Then the scratching started. And the red dots just spread.

I ran around, trying to pet the legendarily skittish cats, Smokey and Quesadilla.

By then I looked like a human pizza. My entire body was covered with the bright red dots. They were hard to miss, so Mom took me aside and told me I had hives. We were going to the doctor again tomorrow.

The night passed without further incident.

“The office is closing this early!?”

“Jeanne, I’m sorry, but there won’t be enough time left for Soap to get “tested”. It sounds really bad, and the quickest thing is the emergency room!”my doctor explained. It all sounded very serious from the corner I was sitting in, drawing.

My mom brought me to the car and we drove through downtown Seattle. I was very confident because I didn’t know what my doctor had meant by “tested”, but I had my doubts.

“Mommy? Am I going to have to go to the hospital? I don’t like it.”

“We’ll see, Soapy. We’ll see.”

As I marched into the emergency room, I looked kind of like a superhero, the sun shining brightly behind me as the sliding doors opened. The lady at the front counter looked at me, with a weird look on your face. I think she wasn’t sure that anything bad had ever happened to me.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” The nurse was using her cheesy fake-polite smile.

“This one,”I insisted, pointing to the happy face with a zero under it. The nurse asked again, and I answered the same way. This was taking a rather long time, so my mom explained the whole story to the nurse, she brought us to the doctor. Mom explained again, and the doctor finally gave us our answer.

And yes, I was going to have to get tested.

That means an IV.

“Hey!”I yelled. The doctors poked a needle straight through a rubber band on my wrist, probably there to squeeze out more blood. The IV actually sucks blood out of your major blood vessels and is brought to an area where it gets tested.

To find the major blood vessels in my hand, they had to poke me in the arm with a needle about a thousand times. I protested against it, but I was to feverish to really get at them. In that room, I looked like a deflated porcupine with all of those tubes sticking out of me.

I moaned as I got another IV. I was disgusted by the fact that it barely hurt. How could I be used to this awful feeling already?

The hospital seemed almost post-apocalyptic. The moans of patients and little beeps completed the illusion. I hated it. I slipped in and out of sleep. Another IV. Still doesn’t hurt.

Then I woke up, with my mind unclouded. The doctors got their results, and I got my scars and fear of needles. It was time to go, see what they were. And to break it to you, my mom and I were infuriated with the results.

I lived in a nightmare for an amount of time I am not aware of, only to learn that I had just had a minor allergic reaction to the medicine the doctors had given me in the first place. It also turns out that almost all humans are allergic to sulfa-based medications. The only reason doctors give it to people is because it’s cheap.

And the IVs? That was definitely not worth it. A couple other times I had gotten IVs, but this was by far the worst. Literally the last straw.

After the fiasco in the hospital, I was apparently still recovering from the infection. “Yeah, right,”I thought, while driving in the car on the way to the doctor’s office. “More like recovering from the doctors.” I had to miss the first grade for this check-up, which results showed that I had completely recovered from the infection.

On the second day of first grade, I was able to return to school. By now I had three little scars to show off. This is the sort of things that first graders will do. One of the scars was from the infection, and two were from the doctors.

But I had a few things that changed me forever.

Always shall I consider all the possible causes of misfortune.

Never shall I completely trust the doctors.

They are not some kind of superhuman that gets everything right.

they are humans that make mistakes and get things wrong, just like me.

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 2 years

Text

70 of 2022

the Urban Dictionary survey.

So apparently you just run this stuff through Urban Dictionary. Post your search under every question.

1. What’s your name? Joeri.

Named after the first man in space. Needless to say this masculin specimen will take you to the stars in bed. Joeri is a beast in the sack and will show you every celestial body in the universe. His physique is extraordinary and his stamine unmatched. All the men envy this badboy.

That’s very not me, I couldn’t care less XD

2. How old are you? 32.

just an average fucking number, why are you wasting your life on this shit

...this has made my day XD

3. Who is one of your friends? I have more than a few, let’s go with Johan.

Johan is such a fun loving guy. Very RARE this one. You won't meet someone like him. People tend to gravitate towards him due to his great charisma and energy. You have to appreciate his mind... He's open-minded, a very deep thinker, and highly intelligent. Johan likes to question societal norms, doesn't like to conform, and is always thinking outside of the box. He's a nature head...who loves to harness the moment and appreciate the beauty of nature wherever he is. Johan is MEANT to be an entrepreneur or be a leader of a company someday. He is highly intelligent, very creative and he can't do the usual mundane things such as work a 9-5. Johan has so much wealth and abundance and the vast potential to achieve the unachievable, he sometimes has trouble seeing that which can be his downfall. Johan is loving and kind. He will love you like no other. He is such a good friend, will always look out for you and help you out no matter what. He's extremely loyal, someone you can trust and depend on anytime. Johan is very attractive especially as he gets older and amazing in bed.

...well, I don’t want to check if this last sentence is true XD

4. What should you be doing? Eating.

Slang heard in rap/hip-hop music to indicate success in one's life, e.g. the figurative opposite of starving.

That can go as well.

5. What’s your favorite color? Black.

The one color that is not in the Rainbow according to Mario. Yeah, Mario actually said that.

Somehow I believe him :P

6. What’s your birthplace? Belgium.

A country which has a complicated political structure which is based on bilingualism; where the same political ideology can be represented by two different parties according to the language.

That’s not entirely true; our country has three official languages, not two, and there are more parties than just two. Also, we’re not entirely bilingual. Here in Flanders we learn French in schools, but not so many of us are fluent in it anyway; in Wallonia, it still seems to be optional to learn Dutch.

7. What month were you born in? April.

derived from a month, used by parents who lacked creativity at the time of their daughters arrival

That’s literally the first definition I’ve found that is not about a woman lol, and it was on the 6th page. What’s wrong with you Americans?

8. Who is the last person you talked to? My husband.

A man so special that you're willing to tolerate him for the rest of your life.

Hey, it’s true :P

9. What is one of your nicknames? Jelle.

Awesome Attractive Cool Funny Brilliant Dutch Basically just the most awesome person ever

...yeah, all that, except that I’m only 25% Dutch XD

#survey #themed survey

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corpseglider · 4 years

Text

pairing .. corpse x girlfriend!reader (fem)

summary .. in which you’re very crafty and corpse loves rings

part two .. read here

the first flower.

“Hey, Corpse?” You called from the kitchen, signaling with your voice for your boyfriend to make an appearance as your hands were very clearly full and preoccupied.

You’d been working on your own personal craft project for about an hour now, your hands being very tired, along with your drooping eyelids. You’d barely managed to get anything done with your lack of creativity and skill.

Some people were meant for the fine arts—you, however, were not one of those people.

The island counter was a complete mess, an array of flowers and string were sprawled across the dark granite, sprinkling little bits of nature around the normally stark room.

You, yourself, looked like a mad woman. Little bits of leaves and excess petals were stuck to your clothes, hair, and face. If you’d walk outside, any stranger passing by would assume you were a wicked florist.

“Yeah?” Corpse called out from his gaming room, currently in the midst of streaming but he always made time for you. “What is it, beautiful?”

He stopped before fully walking into the kitchen, taking in the chaotic sight before him, before a bright smile lit up his face.

Corpse let out a bellyaching laugh, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You relaxed against his chest. Sighing in content as he gently picked away at the leftover flowers, throwing them to the counter in a careless manner.

He then took notice to what you had actually created, picking the only well made item up in the air and into his line of vision.

“You made this?” He asked, an expression of pure awe struck his features. He turned it around in his hand, getting a good look from every possible angle.

You nodded your head, taking the craft out of his grasp and into your own. “They’re rings, you see?”

“I saw something about them online and I thought I should give it a try.”

Corpse took your hand and raised it above your head, spinning you around to face him. He rested his forehead against yours and pressed a light kiss to your temple.

“I love it.”

You kissed him again, this time on the lips, before taking the ring in your palm and sliding it onto his pointer finger. “Good, because I made it just for you.”

“So you’ll always have a reminder of me during the bad times.”

He tapped your chest, right above your heart, proceeding to tap his own right afterwards. “I love you.” He whispered, not breaking eye contact for even a second. “With all of my heart.”

You smirked, pulling him in for another kiss, “As you should.”

the second flower.

You mentally cursed at yourself, accidentally walking into the night side table as you attempted to find your way around the bedroom in total darkness.

It’d been about two hours since you had woken up to work on Corpse’s birthday surprise, wanting the gift to be entirely perfect.

Replicating the original flower ring was much harder than you’d anticipated. Not having any material to base the new item off of was a real setback, but you had no choice as the first gift had died not even a week after it’d been worn.

Corpse was devastated when the flower wilted, having no way of staying alive without nutrition and a water source. He showed it to you, full of guilt for allowing your hard work to go to waste.

Although you reassured him that there was nothing he could’ve done to save the fragile flower, he still chose to keep it in his wallet. He said it was his lucky charm, not that those even existed.

But you thought it was cute. You love it when he expressed his love for you, even when it was in the simplest of manners.

Which was exactly why you’d woken up early in the morning to make Corpse’s birthday gift perfect. He deserved more than the best, and you were making sure that that was what he received.

“Corpse, wake up.” You said, softly shaking his shoulders while pressing kisses all over his cheeks. “Wake up, love.”

He groaned, taking his pillow and pressing it over his face. Though the look of low energy oozed from his aura, he made sure to give your hand a squeeze, giving you the sign that he was listening.

You proceeded to slip the new ring onto his middle finger, the familiar feeling causing Corpse to peek out from underneath the safety of his pillow.

He stared at the gift, fully processing the fact that he’d been sleeping without you, before yanking you with his grip and into the security of the comforter.

Corpse held your face in his hands, rubbing his flower dawned finger against your cheeks. A tired smile graced his lips, silently thanking you with the serenity of the sunrise beside you.

the third flower.

You knocked on the door of the gaming room, careful to make sure that it was an appropriate time to enter.

Interrupting Corpse’s streaming or recording hours was one of your least favorite things to do, accidental or on purpose. Corpse, of course. said he never minded, but getting in the way of his work would never be your intention.

“Come on in, Y/N!” He replied cheerfully, clearly in the middle of a livestream, but happy to hear that you wanted to visit him. “Say hi to the fans.”

You leaned into his mic, tapping it like a beginner to see if it was working. “Hi guys! Just popping in for a second to give Corpse a little present!”

Corpse’s ears perked up at your announcement. He sat patiently, looking at you with an adorable expression as you held your hands behind your back to add a bit of drama.

Slowly, you held out your lightly clenched fist above his open palm, dropping yet another flower ring onto his soft skin.

His eyes sparkled at the sight, bouncing slightly while he waited for you to do as you’ve always done—the very important job of sliding the ring onto one of his fingers.

You instinctively placed the item on the next finger over, which coincidentally happened to be his ring finger. He held his hand up to you, giving you a good look at your hard work.

“You’re amazing,” he smiled, his mic having been muted since you had finished saying your piece to the viewers. “You’re actually the greatest thing in my life.”

You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes at his exaggeration. “And you’re the most dramatic person in my life.”

Corpse laughed, returning to his stream after leaving his fans waiting for five or so minutes. You lingered in the room for a while, admiring his strategy and comfortability with his watchers, before leaving to get some of your own work done.

“What was it that Y/N gave me?” You heard Corpse say out loud as he read one of the comments after being killed early on in the round. You were sitting in the living room, realizing that you’d left the door wide open after you had left.

“She makes the cutest little flower rings for me. Hold on, I’ll post another picture of my hand so you guys can get a look at it.”

You clicked on Instagram as the notification that he’d posted popped up on your phone, liking the new photo without hesitation. Comments had already flooded the picture, all of them saying the exact same thing.

@user: is that ring on your wedding finger?!

@user: i think we lost him for real this time guys :(

@user: congrats on the engagement!

You laughed as you read the absurd conclusions that the viewers were jumping to, amused and grateful for their unconditional support of your relationship with Corpse, before a gasp escaped your lips.

@corpse_husband: guys were not engaged rn, but we will be once i finally figure out how to make these flower rings myself

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband oneshot #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse imagines #corpse husband #corpse #among us x reader

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Note

omg I’m so excited you’re on here and taking requests!! do you think you could do something like baby Spence losing his virginity to a close friend & it’s like adorable, goofy, fluffy smut bc he cannot get over the fact that he’s actually having sex with someone

I’VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-- TURN IT UP!!!

on a serious note, i'm so glad you asked for this one bc i really wanna add a scene like this in the fic i'm working on rn. i'm v excited.

summary: when the secret of Spencer's virginity gets accidentally spilled in front of the whole team, reader goes to check on him.

word count: 5.6k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Spencer Reid

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, fluff.

masterlist

hanging out with the team is easily the best part of the week. after spending days in Arizona with our focus entirely on the most recent case, my mind is practically ready to snap. I feel like I've been running on fumes, and when Penelope suggested we take the evening to hit our favorite bar, I was practically already out the door.

so now I'm sandwiched between JJ and Emily as we throw back our first shots of the night. my skin is already flushed with the elation of laughter, the pleasant thrum of conversation that surrounds us.

"that's bitter." JJ makes a face when she slams the empty glass on the table. I screw up my nose.

"why did we pick vodka?" I hate vodka.

"it gets the job done." Emily laughs. I shudder at the aftertaste that sits on my tongue.

Morgan wanders over, Pen on his arm while she totes a brightly colored pink alcohol. they're flirting as usual, but she pauses in her witticisms to grab my arm.

"we're playing truth or shot in that booth over there." she says to me, then gets the attention of the other two women. I let out a disbelieving laugh.

"truth or shot? like truth or dare but without the dare?"

"Reid, is that you?" Morgan says sarcastically. I slug him in the arm with a pout.

"be nice." but I'm giggling. he loops his arm through mine and we head back to the table, Penelope already starting a new conversation with JJ and Prentiss as they follow. Spencer is sitting in the booth with an Arnold Palmer, sipping from the straw like it's his job. I slide into the spot next to him.

"hi, you." I smile. "I haven't seen you at all tonight."

he holds up his glass. "I don't really drink."

"that's fine," I wave it off. "I just meant I wanted to hang out with you."

"oh." he smiles a little. "sorry."

"no big deal. you're here now." I shrug and turn to Pen as she calls my name.

"I'm gonna order a bottle. that okay?" she points to the bar with a mischievous smile. glancing once at Spencer and his slightly awkward position between Morgan and me, I make a snap decision.

"you know what? I think I'll just have a lemonade."

"you sure? Jayge said you spent the whole plane ride back talking about getting wasted--" Penelope's words cause a blush to spread over my face. I cut her off.

"I'm sure. thanks, Penny."

she nods. "of course, sweet cheeks."

I focus back on Reid, who is looking at me gratefully. he would never say it out loud, but I know he feels a little out-of-place sometimes. it's hard enough for him to come out with us to bars; the least I can do is be a sober friend. I open my mouth to start a conversation about an article I read the other day when Prentiss speaks.

"okay, so... who's ready?" her voice, always so certain, carries over the table. all of us make enthusiastic noises of assent, and she grins as Penelope returns with an armful of glasses. Derek gets up to grab the actual alcohol, and then when we're all settled in, the game begins.

"the rules are simple: you tell the truth, or you drink!" the tech analyst explains. the stakes for Spencer and me are lower, but that doesn't really matter. I'm excited to hear the team divulge their secrets.

"I'll start." Prentiss doesn't even hesitate before she looks at Morgan. "Derek, are you still sleeping with that one woman from sex crimes?"

Morgan raises his eyebrows at the question, irises flitting between Emily and the rim of his drink. there's a slight smirk on his face; he knows what a player he is and he's okay with flaunting it.

"Ally? no." he sighs. "things didn't end well between us."

"what? why?" I ask, eyes widening before I look around at everyone. "who is this woman?"

"cool your jets, sparky." Morgan teases me. "only one question per round."

"I'll tell you later." Prentiss raises her drink in my direction and winks.

"uh, no no." Morgan attempts to stop her, but JJ interrupts him.

"speaking of things not ending well," she says loudly. "Pen, why did you and Sam break up?"

"well," Penelope sticks her tongue between her teeth as she thinks it over with a devilish smile. her lips are a ruby red tonight, bright against her pale skin and big eyes. "to be completely honest, he just wasn't... doin' it for me. you know?"

"like--?" Emily glances down at her lap. Pen nods quickly and I snicker. JJ looks awestruck.

"I thought it was going so well."

"it was, but..." Penelope seems to genuinely think this over before she speaks. "if it's right, it just clicks. and it never clicked with Sam."

"profound." I compliment, high-fiving the high-energy blonde. we giggle before she turns to me with a glint in her eye.

"oh, do I have a plan for you," she smirks. "tell me, Y/N: if you had to sleep with one person on our team, who would it be?"

"women included?" I clarify, my cheeks suddenly on fire. how come everyone got easy questions except for me? I'm really just biding time.

"of course." she nudges my shoulder. I mull this over for a minute. I could say the truth, but I don't think that would be the right thing to do. however ironic that is. given the situation, I do something which I have never been good at and which I don't enjoy doing: I lie.

"although all of you are catches," I preface. "I think I would probably pick Emily."

Prentiss almost chokes on her own spit as her head snaps to see my face.

"me?" she asks.

"low-pressure fun." I shrug, the stress of the moment rolling off my shoulders with the ensuing laughter of my team members. Spencer takes a sip of his drink and peeks at me from his spot before I focus my attention to JJ.

we go on like this for a while, our original plan of "truth or drink" really just turning into a game of "truth and drink." as our laughter gets progressively louder, our questions and answers get progressively more provocative. we get into risky territory towards the fourth round, and I can practically feel Spencer's discomfort radiating off of him. thank god everyone has been taking it easier on him with their questions.

that is, until Morgan hits about five shots and decides to throw him to the wolves.

"so, Reid," he asks. there's no malice in his tone and I'm sure he's not meaning to embarrass the boy genius, but the question makes me wince anyways. "have we made any progress on the virginity front?"

it's like a fucking pall over the table. Reid goes rigid in his spot, and JJ's protective eyes dart between him and Morgan. Penelope's jaw drops.

"wait, Reid, you're a--?" her voice is tender, not judgmental, but Spencer's cheeks turn pink and he looks at Derek with a hurt expression.

"not cool." he says, body shifting in my direction. his eyes communicate everything; without a word, I know what he wants. I scoot out of the booth, letting him slip by me to walk outside.

truly, I'm speechless. we all stare at his lanky frame push through the door, but nobody talks until at least fifteen seconds pass.

"what the hell was that, Morgan?" JJ asks.

"I thought everyone knew--" he throws his hands up. "I swear I wouldn't have said anything if--"

"why would everyone know that?" I feel myself get angry for Spencer's sake. "that's an incredibly personal thing, especially to him."

"that wasn't you, my love." Penelope's voice is soft, sobered by the incident that just occurred. the playful air at the table is officially ruined, and we keep glancing at the doorway like Reid will come back in and everything will be fine. he doesn't.

"I'm gonna go apologize." Morgan starts to get up, seemingly beginning to realize the weight of his words. it's one thing to ask about Reid's sex life in general; it's another to point out specifically the entire absence of it. Spencer doesn't seem to be bothered by most things, but this is different. my heart hurts.

we watch Morgan go, the women all looking at each other with worried expressions.

"I feel bad." Penelope says.

"y'know, Spence never told me that." JJ observes.

"he really trusts Morgan." Prentiss says what we're all thinking. Morgan has always been like a big brother to him, and being embarrassed in front of your co-workers like that can't be a pleasant feeling.

we sit in a relative silence for about five minutes until Morgan walks back into the bar. he pulls out his wallet and pays for the drinks, then walks over to us.

"I'm gonna go for a walk. do you need me to call you all cabs?" he asks. those dramatic brows are drawn low over his face, emphasizing his regret. I look between my friends and clear my throat.

"it's okay. I only had one shot about an hour and a half ago. I can drive everyone home."

"okay," Morgan sighs, his head turning briefly to the door before focusing back on us. "drive safe, ladies."

and then he's gone.

"you guys ready?" I start to shrug my jacket on. they all nod and we get ready to go.

...

sitting in my apartment later that night, my head is swimming. even though it's none of my business what happens in Spencer's sex life, I wish I could tell him that it's okay. nobody cares at all if he's a virgin or not. but I know it's still embarrassing.

I hate that I lied earlier tonight, too. I wanted to say Spencer's name when they asked who I wanted, because I meant it. we're close, and I will always love him as a friend. but I've also always wanted more.

nobody, not even any of the other BAU women, know about my crush. I didn't want it to get in the way, or for it to come out and ruin my friendship with Reid. he doesn't like me like that, and that's fine, but what's not fine is not having him as my friend.

he was the first person I really connected with when I came here, and I feel a little protective over him, too.

once the clock hits eleven, I consider calling. he’s definitely not asleep yet. Spencer is a night owl. normally at this time he'd be curled up with a huge book, reading impossibly fast.

when he picks up on the third ring, the air leaves my lungs.

"Y/N?" he asks, more surprised than anything else.

"hey, Spence--" I hesitate, suddenly not sure what to say. sorry Morgan told everyone you're a fucking virgin? “do you wanna come over?"

maybe if I see him face-to-face, I'll be able to collect my thoughts better. the words hang in the air, festering over the line until I'm just about to take them back, before he replies.

"y-yeah. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

my hands are shaking at my side when I open the door for the tall genius. he's still wearing his outfit from earlier, hair slicked back like normal. I've settled for my usual sweatpants and t-shirt winning combo. it's not like he cares.

"hey." I smile, trying to read his micro expressions. there are two possible outcomes here, knowing him: either he's going to be totally, completely over it, or he'll be able to write a War-and-Peace-length book on why he's upset.

"hi." he gives a wan smile and I let him into my apartment, closing the door behind him and gesturing to the couch.

"I missed this place." he says absently, looking around at the mess of decor and case files. I snort as I recall the last time he was here. he wanted to borrow a book that I had, and we ended up watching an entire docu-series about homing pigeons. it was surprisingly interesting; mostly because his commentary is both informative and funny.

"it missed you." I anthropomorphize my living space, but the phrase hangs heavy. I'm worried about him. I'm always worried about Spencer. he turns to look at me, opening his mouth to say something. I brush past him and walk into the kitchen. "coffee?"

"sure." he follows me like a lost puppy, leaning against the counter while I pull out two mugs and get to work.

"hey," I pause for a moment to look him in the eyes. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry-- about what happened... tonight."

"oh, that?" he scoffs, waves it off unconvincingly. "it's fine."

I raise my brows the slightest bit, never breaking eye contact. he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t want to talk about it. he cracks easily.

"it's just embarrassing, you know?" he says, staring out my kitchen window to alleviate his own nerves. I gesture for him to follow me back into the living room and I sit down criss-cross applesauce on the couch. he mirrors me, kicking off those cute black Converse.

"I don't think the fact itself is embarrassing, but I totally get why it feels that way. he shouldn't have said anything." I nod.

"like, that's personal. a-and--" he hesitates a moment, gesticulating wildly now. "and it's not like he's got any right! at least I don't go around with so many girls that I forget their names."

the thought of Reid sleeping with that many women is a little bit funny, but it also makes my stomach twist with jealousy.

"did he apologize?"

"yeah, he did. and he was drunk, I know." he rolls his eyes. "I'm overreacting."

"no, really, you're not." without thinking, I scoot closer to him and place my hand over his, which is sitting on his knee. I remember that Spencer is usually pretty averse to touch, but when I move it back to my lap, he seems a little disappointed. I wonder if he gets lonely.

"is it weird?" the question sounds raw, like he's mustering a lot to hear my response. I shake my head immediately.

"well, for one, Spence, I would never judge anyone based on their sex life, period." I chuckle. "and two, no way! if you aren't into having sex at this point in your life-- or ever-- that's totally your choice and you're entitled to it."

his eyes meet mine, pools of honeyed hazel that swim with a slightly amber shade. his face is so pretty, it's sometimes unbelievable to me that he doesn't get more action. bone structure that would make a sculpture envious.

"that's the thing," he licks his lips nervously before averting his gaze again. "I am interested-- I just don't-- well, I don't--"

"don't have someone to do it with?" I suggest with a slight smile. he nods, then clarifies.

"girls don't really seem to be interested in me."

I let out a laugh, unable to contain myself. his head jerks up to frown in confusion. I’m quick to amend myself.

"Spence, that's not true at all. you're such a catch! you're sweet and funny and way smarter than anyone I know. not to mention that you're adorable." I compliment, letting some of the thoughts I've been keeping to myself bubble to the surface. "any girl would be beyond lucky to be with you, sexually or not." Spencer blushes at my words, but the squirming in his spot tells me that it makes him feel warm inside. he smiles a little.

"you think?" it's genuine. he appreciates being praised, and it makes my heart flutter when he gives me that expression like I've made his night.

"I know." more of what I want to say rolls around my mind, unsure of whether or not I should admit it. but I think that right now, it'll only serve to make him feel better. "actually, I should tell you something."

"what?" he's curious now.

"when we were at the bar and Penelope asked who I'd be with... on the team... I lied."

"okay." he nods, somehow not connecting the dots. I guess it doesn't matter if they've got enormous IQs; boys are still clueless.

"I was gonna say you." the truth presses from the inside out, lifting a weight off my chest now that it's out there. even if he doesn't return that feeling, I'm suddenly glad that I told him.

"me?" he gestures to his narrow chest. I nod.

"yeah. I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable or embarrass you in front of our friends." I explain. he breaks into a grin.

"thanks." like I've given him something. I feel myself smiling as well, and then we're just looking at each other. tension that neither of us is willing to break. as much as I'd like to take him right here right now, he hasn't said anything about actually having sex or even about being attracted to me. for all I know, he could be completely indifferent.

"listen, Spence--"

"would you be willing to--" we speak at the same time, both of us stopping and laughing awkwardly.

"sorry, you go first." I offer, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

"would you want to... um..." he scratches the back of his neck before his eyes meet mine. "try it?"

"sex?" I raise my eyebrows. he nods. I try to find the right response. that’s more assertive than I expected. my pulse is fast, daring me to tell the truth. "I mean-- yes, I would love to-- but are you sure you want it to be with me, Spence? what about a girl that you like?"

"you are a girl that I like." he says this like it's matter-of-fact, like it's obvious. my heart stops in my chest before it starts to hammer.

"really?" a smile makes its way onto my face.

"I thought you knew."

"no." I laugh. my chest is full of sunlight.

"well, you are."

there's a brief silence where I try to get myself back on track. he likes me, too.

"are you sure you want to do this?" I glance at the space between our bodies, which has grown steadily smaller over the course of our conversation. Spencer is watching my every move with an intensity that tells me he's nervous.

"yes." he's unwavering.

"okay, well, you've kissed girls, right?" I inch closer. he nods.

"one."

"oh, Spencer," I sigh contentedly. "I have so much to teach you."

right after I say this, Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. it's only then that I notice his hand covering his lap, the erection that's forming beneath his pants. my eyes flick up to his hungrily.

"sorry." he apologizes.

"don't be." our faces are inches apart and he's practically holding his breath. "I'm gonna kiss you. is that okay?"

"yes." he replies immediately. I place my hands gently on the side of his face, admiring the softness and sharpness of his jaw when I pull him to me, kissing him with a suppressed desire. his mouth is soft against mine, a little anxious to move. after a moment, he starts to relax.

his lips part and I deepen our contact, tilting my head and keeping it mostly mild at first. I don't want to shove my tongue down his throat. our knees are touching and his hand hesitantly finds my waist, the other going to run through my hair. I sigh into him, his fingertips a new sensation that I adore.

Spencer begins to give in a bit more to himself, asserting himself in the kiss and slipping his tongue over my bottom lip. I almost laugh at how quickly he gets the hang of it. he reads my body language effortlessly, not even skipping a beat when I climb into his lap and lace my arms around his neck.

"is this okay?" I pull away momentarily. he nods.

"you're so pretty." an unrelated response, but appreciated nonetheless. I laugh and peck his nose.

"thanks." and then we're back to making out, his hands resting on the small of my back. it's nice. I could stay like this forever, just pressed against Spencer while my fingers thread through his soft hair. he's cautious with me, and it's innocent.

I can feel his boner, can feel from the eagerness of his kisses that he's trying not to bring up the fact that he's literally just throbbing in his pants right now. in order to give him a little of what he wants, I start to rock my hips against his.

Spencer whimpers into my mouth. I stop and look down at him.

"do you want me to stop?"

"no, god, no— never stop." he's mindless in his reply, already grabbing my hips greedily and trying to regain that friction. I shake my head with a chuckle, then resume my actions. he starts to rut up against me, groaning into our embrace while his hands get more adventurous.

I withdraw, breaking the kiss to straighten up. he doesn't stop the microscopic pushes of his hips. I bite back a smile, enjoying the friction, too.

"do you wanna take my clothes off, Spence?" I ask softly.

"y-yes." he replies, gingerly taking the hem of my top and beginning to lift it over my head. when he places it on the couch beside me, his eyes immediately fall to my bra. slender fingers run up my bare waist, his watch glinting in the candlelight. when he doesn't immediately reach to unclasp my bra, I grab his wrist and guide it to the clasps myself. he moves with a surprising ease, unsnapping the thing and grazing over my skin as he slides the straps down my shoulders. I can tell that he’s shaking a tad, but it doesn’t hinder him.

the second that he's discarded the lingerie, he looks up at me with moony eyes.

"can I... kiss you?" he looks at my bare chest. "here?"

"of course, Spence." I nod. he presses his lips to the space between my ribs, drags them up to the valley between my breasts. lingers, then attaches himself to one of my nipples. I sigh, throwing my head back at the way he moves intuitively, sucking and running his tongue over the peak. he squeezes the other breast, plays with the nipple and starts to acquaint himself with the curves of my body.

the whole time, he's straining against my core, rutting helplessly in pleasure. it feels heavenly, with that sweet face of his so devoted to making me feel good, that I nearly stray from the purpose of the experience.

"Spencer..." I breathe. he moans at the sound of his name, then looks up at me from his place sucking on my tits. his teeth graze of my skin and I buck into his lap, causing him to groan appreciatively. my fingers tangle in his soft hair.

"Y/N," he pulls away from my chest, his lips making a soft popping sound. I gaze down at him, a bit lost in the fantasies running through my head. he's a natural. "can we, um-- like, expedite this process a little?"

"expedite the process?” I repeat back to him, giggling at his formality.

"what?" his voice goes up an octave, but he's smiling. "you know what I mean."

"I really do." I lean down, pressing my thumb into his jaw and angling his face up to mine to kiss. while his hands curiously move over my body, I start to push down the waistband of my sweatpants. I break contact just for a moment to peel them off, and he releases a quiet whine. it's cute.

"come back." he says softly, watching as I slide the bottoms down my legs, leaving me in my panties.

"I'm back." I peck his cheek, climb into his lap again. "can we take off your clothes, too?"

"mhmm." he nods. his lips part when my fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a torturous slowness. I can feel his eyes on my face the whole time.

"what?" I chuckle, peeking up at him for a moment before I pull his shirt open and run my palms up his chest, over his shoulders. he nearly shudders at the sheer touch.

"I just can't believe this is actually happening." he smiles in that way of his, like he's suppressing the depth of his emotions, with his brows slightly raised. I take the opportunity to enjoy the sight of him before me, his rapidly rising and falling chest, the smoothness of his skin.

"honestly?" I start to unbutton his pants, and he jerks up into my hand, blushing once he realizes the earnestness of his actions. I smirk encouragingly. "me, neither."

before I pull down his boxers, my eyes flick to his. "is this still okay?"

"Y/N," he groans. "if you don't do something, I'm gonna cum too early." he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment when my hand moves over his clothed erection, like he's holding on. "please."

"sorry." I release him from the confines. it hits his stomach and he waits for my reaction, as if he's afraid that I'll change my mind right now. but I'm definitely not going to. "holy fuck, Spencer."

"what?" he panics slightly, sitting up more. "is it not enough?"

"not enou--" I stutter, almost laugh. "no, it's plenty. I had no idea..."

"oh." he hides the pleased smile on his face, blush spreading over his pretty throat. in the interest of "expediting the process," I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and gently pump him.

Spencer's stomach tenses and he grabs onto the cushion of the couch with a tight fist, sighing.

"mmm..." he doesn't try to word his emotions, but I know. and I like that I'm making him feel this way, sharing this experience. Spencer and I are such close friends, I never thought we'd actually have sex. my assumption was that I'd watch him grow into himself, find a nice girl and treat her like a queen.

but here I am, spitting into my hand before jerking him off to prepare for what’s next. he’s throbbing, sounds coming from his throat.

"I'm gonna sit on it, okay?" I lean down to whisper in his ear. he touches my waist, my neck, kisses a random spot on my chest in the waves of pleasure that I'm giving him.

"o-okay." he mumbles, waiting for me to actually do it. and there's a moment of tense anticipation between both of us, when I sit up and pull my panties to the side. Spencer watches like I'm the only thing in the world, saving the memory of my body on top of his for later.

I run the head of his cock along my entrance, soaking him in the wetness between my thighs. I didn't realize how turned on I'd already gotten, and he lets out a quiet whine when he feels the evidence of how much I want him.

our eyes lock when I sink down. it's a new feeling for him, and the shape of his member as it stretches my walls causes me to bite my lip to withhold moaning too loudly. he whimpers, neck tensing and fingertips digging into my hips.

"o-oh." he sucks in a breath as I reach the halfway point. he's so big, I have to go slow in order not to overwhelm myself. but it feels good, too. like... unbelievably good. I grip onto his shoulders and my head falls forward into his shoulder.

"Spencer, holy shit." I moan.

"does it feel nice?" he asks, concerned for my own pleasure. I feel my chest flutter at the thoughtfulness of the boy wonder even when he's in the midst of losing his virginity, and I lower myself onto the rest of him.

"mhmm," I rest for a moment. "how do you feel?"

"like--" his breath hitches when I begin to rock back and forth on him. "like I've been missing out."

I can't help the giggle that slips past my lips, but then it quickly turns into a longing moan when he starts to thrust up into me like a helpless thing. Spencer is brilliant, but his brain cells go out the window when he throws his head back and begs me to move more.

I nod, raising and lowering myself until we reach a special pace. it's not fast or slow, just the two of us trying to stay in the moment while we hold on tightly to each other. I can feel the cool metal of his watch when he splays his hand out over my spine, the warmth of his breath while he pants against my shoulder.

he hits my g-spot over and over. my moans are torn from my throat by the burning of my lungs. it's like I can't breathe because I'm so focused on chasing the orgasm building in my stomach. and Spencer... I can tell he's almost finished.

the erratic nature of his jerking body tells me.

"I'm gonna cum..." he moans into my neck. "do- do you want me to pull out?"

"no." I arch my back and throw myself into the friction of our bodies. he stares up at me while I ride him, the merciless grinding of my hips because I just can't help myself. "oh my god, Spencer."

he notices how close I am and, in a surprisingly deft move, slides two fingers over my pussy to find my clit. the ensuing noise from me tells him that he's found it, and he begins to rub in quick circles. it's rough and hard, but that's exactly what I need right now.

"cum for me, Spence." I breathe. his free hand grips onto my thigh and pulls me over him, his own words unintelligible within the sounds of absolute pleasure.

"please." he begs for something I don't know, spills his seed inside of my pussy and holds onto me like I'm an anchor to this world while he peers into the next. the feeling of him spreading through my stomach, along with the reckless movements of his limbs and the way he looks at me while he rides out his orgasm, sends me over the edge.

"oh my fuck!" I collapse, grabbing his shoulders tightly and rolling myself down while he removes his fingers from my body. it's jarring, the intensity, like my normal functions can't respond correctly. all I can process is the tightening of my stomach, the pleasure between my legs, vision going slightly fuzzy at the edges. he moans when my cunt flutters around him, the muscles trying desperately to hold him here with me forever. I take deep breaths and slow down, my forehead dropping again while I start to remember my own name.

neither of us speaks. I think I'm still too in shock about what just happened, but in the best way. he keeps running his hands over my skin, then wraps his arms around my torso so that I'm pulled against his chest. I smile, kissing his ear before I finally break the silence.

"hi."

"hi." he's got a satisfied tone.

"do you need anything? water?" I ask, exhausted but realizing that this is still new for Spencer and it's my job to make sure he's as comfortable as possible. he nuzzles his nose into my clavicle and squeezes me tighter.

"stay here with me." there's a slight edge to his words. he's afraid of me leaving. I snuggle down, perfectly happy to remain. heat radiates from his skin, and I like the way it feels.

"of course."

we linger in each other’s arms, both of us coming back into the real world and holding on in an attempt to soften the blow. I just had sex with Spencer.

"thank you." he whispers into my hair.

"for what?" the smile on my face is lazy.

"for doing this."

"well, I really wanted to." I laugh. "so, I guess, thank you, too."

"you're quite welcome." his response is cheerful and then we're both laughing, the sound rumbling from his chest. "can we do it again at some point?"

"I would be happy to." I beam. the contented sigh that leaves his lips, followed by a slight sinking of our bodies down the couch in collective exhaustion, fills me with a joy that's quiet but obvious.

“I’ll last longer next time, I promise.” he says. I can practically hear the blush in his cheeks.

“you did amazing, Spence. don’t worry about it.” I press a few stray kisses to him.

I'll need to go clean up, soon, but it can wait a few more minutes. this is my favorite place on earth.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #virgin spencer #reader x spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid one shot #baby spencer reid

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