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unicorncornflakes · 7 months

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Summer Isles - Modern!Aemond x Reader | Chapter 1

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Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After two years in the Summer Isles, Aemond returns from his international stay during his doctorate ready to be with the girl he left Westeros for.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: Not at this moment, maybe later :P This is the best I can write these days, sorry :(

General Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @hiddencurator

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 3.5K

The sunlight had disappeared two hours ago. From the large window of the office, you could see how the yellow lights of the streetlights illuminated the deserted streets of that old industrial estate. Normally, at that time, there would be a multitude of operators and porters working in the warehouses that surrounded the modern, newly built building in which you worked. But, that autumn afternoon there was not a single soul. From the second floor of that building that broke the skyline of the place, you could see a paper bag rolling alone along the sidewalk.

You sighed, trying to gather strength for the next email you had to answer. You always sat next to the window, as if that could cheer you up during the at least eight hours you spent at work. The head of the service, in a show of trust and invented friendship with you, always placed you in the last shift of that customer service of the large multinational for which you worked. Although it may sound strange, it was the simplest and most complicated shift at the same time. Few clients with very big problems. Brilliant.

A new email popped up on the screen and you sighed right after replying to the last one. You grabbed the back of your head and closed your eyes, tired. Well, it could be worse, you thought, you might have to take a call. That thought crossed your mind when you saw your colleague Cristof closing his eyes tiredly while he explained for the last half hour to a client that the delay of her wedding dress was a problem of the transport company, that a claim had been opened and that we would try to give her a solution first thing tomorrow morning, not then, in the last shift.

“This is an idiot,” Cristof turned on mute just to talk to you and make you smile. You frowned and shook your head at him as he laughed again. "Yeah. Of course, I'm still here and I understand your situation perfectly, right now there is a team of five people working to get your dress to you first thing tomorrow morning, Mrs. Thyrosh” he completely changed the tone he had used with you, showing the best side of the service. That's what your job was about, showing your best possible face, or rather, your best possible voice.

“Is Aegon finally coming to look for you today?” Irmis, sitting right next to you, was also typing quickly to answer a customer who had decided at the last minute to change his expensive order for shoes from a famous brand. When they had offered you that job at a prestigious clothing brand, you never thought it would be like this. Five years in design school practically thrown away.

You shook your head as you looked ahead, ready to respond to that email. “No, he can't. You can see the fireworks from his house and he has organized a party with his friends to watch them from there” you responded completely naturally, although it had really hurt you that he didn't come for you on the same day that the local festivals were inaugurated. That was the same reason why not a single soul could be seen in that place. All private businesses closed earlier so that people could attend with their friends and family at the beginning of something that marked the beginning of autumn in a city as small as the one you lived in, but you work for a multinational. That small group of five people must have closed the shift. You were all unmarried or single. People who, according to the head of service, nothing happened if they did not attend the event. After all, what did it matter if you were missing? You sighed as you read what the last client who had written to you wanted. “I'll take the bus and I'll be there in an hour,” you explained to Irmis while she kept her eyes on the screen.

“If you want, I can take you” Roy stuck his head out of the cubicle that was right in front of you. With his headphones on and the smile he always had when he saw you, he continually offered to take you home or to Aegon's house.

"No. Don't worry, I'll go on the bus” you smiled at him with your best smile and as always Roy returned to his seat calling himself stupid. The truth was that you didn't like him taking you home. You knew he had a slight crush on you. Whenever you argued with Aegon, he was always there to listen to you and bring up all the many bad things Aegon had as a partner. You didn't want to raise his hopes. Aegon wasn't perfect, but he was the one you had chosen to be with, right?

“Well, it's cold today to be waiting for the bus.” Marga turned around in her chair right behind you. She was much older, a woman who had dedicated her entire life to customer service. She never said anything, but you knew she didn't like Aegon for you.

No one seemed to like Aegon as your partner. The five of you always closed the service, so you had ended up being a family, in which everyone knew everything about the other. You were grateful to have companions like that, but you didn't like that they interfered so much in your life.

Your cell phone vibrated. At that time, none of the bosses were still in the office, so you looked at him without any qualms. You couldn't help but smile while the others commented on whether or not it was advisable to wait in the autumn cold for the bus.

You saw Aegon at the party, being silly as always. He had sent you a photo in which he said that they were waiting for you. You continued typing and answering emails until the departure time was given. You grabbed your shoulder bag ready to leave that place for a whole weekend. You always loved Fridays. They meant not having to put up with one more customer.

“Let's go have something to drink tomorrow?” Cristof asked as you passed the security cards to exit the building. All dressed in your jackets to avoid the cold, you waited for him to close the door. It was your obligation to close the building as you were the last to leave it.

"Impossible. I have to take socks to the vet,” Marga answered.

“It's not going to take you all day.” Cristof narrowed his eyes in amusement while Roy laughed right behind him.

“Y/N?” He asked you, almost hoping that you would say yes. You were a motley group that would never have gotten together if it hadn't been for that job.

“I can’t,” you laughed, not wanting to explain much more. Really, you couldn't and you didn't want to. You were especially excited about what was going to happen the next day. Seeing the look on Roy's face, you repeated again, “Not really. “Aegon’s brother is returning from a stay in the Summer Islands and we are all meeting up for lunch” you responded happily.

Aemond had always been your best friend. You hadn't seen him for two years, almost a little after you started dating Aegon. He had gotten a scholarship to do an international stay during his doctorate and he had accepted it without a second thought, without looking back. You couldn't help but miss him, but you were happy for him. That's what was going through your head, it wasn't as if... you had always been friends, since high school. He had never hinted at anything and neither have you.

“Is that the one who is missing one eye, has long hair and is always smoking?” Marga asked, shrugging her shoulders.

“Marga, don't be rude,” Irmi reprimanded him when she saw the same sad and confused face that you had made, as if it had been a low blow to define him as the guy who was missing an eye.

“If there is one like him there,” the woman said while pointing with her head, right behind you. You turned around while your heart was going a mile an hour, while you didn't think that her words could be true, but you felt like your world stopped, right at the sight of him.

He was there.

Aemond Targaryen.

After two fucking years, he was just there. Leaning against his car, the same one you had seen during those two years parked at the family residence. He was just blowing out the smoke from the last puff he had just taken. Always dressed in black, from head to toe. His black leather jacket, his turtleneck sweater of the same color. Aemond had never been one to change his style, but you could see how in those two years he had stopped wearing his tall military boots and was now wearing black shoes that cost the same as your entire month's salary. A very expensive and new rolex on his wrist… otherwise it was him. It was just him.

Your companions stayed behind you as you ran to hug him. You couldn't see it, but the corners of Aemond's lips curled into a smile. The smile that his always stoic face had wanted to give you but had never dared. “See you on Monday,” you heard one of your workmates say while the others said goodbye to each other, but you didn't care. He was there. He was there.

“But, what are you doing here?” You smiled at him sincerely, because in those two years not a single day had passed in which you hadn't missed him. He was your best friend. It always had been. “You were arriving tomorrow. You were arriving tomorrow” that stupid smile did not leave your lips. Your hands patted his chest affectionately and he smiled. His single purple eye fixed on yours.

“The flight was early,” he lied. Aemond had never heard of a flight coming forward. Just that they were late, but he had taken the first one that was available. A feeling of indescribable warmth filled his heart, as nothing had filled it for two years. You punched him in the chest again as you hugged him again. Aemond could feel you close your eyes snuggled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. His aroma of coffee and cigarettes mixed with that perfume he always wore filled your nostrils, bringing back memories of a time that had undoubtedly been better than the one you were living in then.

“Yes, but what are you doing here?” You laughed again.

“Waiting for you to come out,” he shrugged with a smile you had rarely seen on his face. A truly genuine smile. “I arrived at Aegon's house and you weren't there. Helaena told me you were still at work” he sighed “So, do you work here?” He asked with a shrug, looking at the spot where you had ended up. He would never be the one to say it out loud, but you didn't deserve more. You had studied for much, much more. However, it was the job you had decided to have. Aegon had gotten you the job. All his influences had reached that place and you had accepted it gratefully because you needed the money, not for anything else.

“Have you come to look for me?” you asked in disbelief, ignoring his question. In two and a half years of their relationship, Aegon had not gone a single day. In truth, you had always fantasized about him coming for you. Up in his car, sunglasses on and ready to take you anywhere you want. However, it had never happened and you had told yourself that it was simply because he was tired from work, or that it didn't matter... or that you didn't deserve it... But, Aemond had gone. He was there, like you had always dreamed that your boyfriend would do.

“You wouldn't make it in time to see the fireworks if I wasn't here,” he said, trying to make light of the matter. He opened the passenger seat door in an almost theatrical manner and you got in. Just as he closed the door he told himself that this was going to be the big night. He needed to do it. He had been needing it for two and a half years. Since the same day he had taken that flight to a foreign university that had little or nothing to do with his field of study.

“It's not something that fascinates me either,” you sighed, exhausted and tired after such a long day. You fastened the seat belt and Aemond opened the driver's door, just after he had nervously stubbed his cigarette against the sidewalk. Frankly, fireworks didn't fascinate you. They had never done it. As a child you had been terrified by the roar that stirred in your chest every time one exploded. As an adult you had been bored by the always repeated pattern of the same in that small town near the landing that had so little to offer.

“I brought you something,” Aemond smiled. You weren't used to seeing him smile so much. Those two years away from home, away from everything he knew, must have been good for him. He took out two small packages that he placed on your lap. “Open it, please,” he finished as he watched your eyes light up. In the middle of that industrial estate, was that the best place he had found to give you his gifts? He martyred himself. Nothing was going as he had planned, but he had also imagined you in a completely different scenario.

“You shouldn't have bothered,” you replied. You chose the smallest of the packages first and opened it delicately. Aemond heard you laugh as he started the car engine. His face showed a grimace of relief. At least He was still thanking you for those nonsense. “How did you remember?” you laughed as you held up the fridge magnet he had brought you.

“I remembered the refrigerator at your parents' house,” he lied. He just remembered how you were always amazed at the refrigerator in his family's house. Full of the magnets of the places they had traveled to. Aemond knew you never spoke it but you had always been envious of those who could really travel. As far as your best friend knew, you had never left the small town where you lived, except on the occasional occasion to see or visit King's Landing. “I guess you can put it in your new refrigerator” he tried to smile, but it didn't come naturally. He didn't dare look at you. He had seen Aegon's new apartment before he came to find you. He had imagined which side of the huge bed in the bedroom you would lie on, how you would cook dinner with his brother while you smiled at him and he did something stupid... he had imagined how you would make love anywhere in it... without any ties... and then he had died of jealousy.

“What refrigerator?” You asked, completely confused, and he simply looked away from the road for a moment, as if hope was returning to his gaze again.

“The one in the kitchen of your new house?” Aemond wanted to affirm, but it all came out simply as a question.

“Oh, that.” You said pursing your lips in an embarrassed manner. “Aegon is going to become independent, but he hasn't told me anything about living together so…” you looked ahead. You didn't want anyone to see the pain that situation caused you. Your boyfriend had bought the apartment of his dreams, but you had not entered into the equation for a single moment. You had thought that the topic of living together would come up during the renovation, then you had imagined it would happen while you were helping him choose the furniture and then you had expected it during the first night that you had dined there alone, the two of you. He hadn't shown up and you had simply closed the topic with a sheepish smile every time someone asked you about it. Because you, like the others, knew that the normal thing would have been for you to go live with him. You could have told her, but saying things was never in the plans of a girl who was too shy and complacent.

Aemond ignored the comment. He thought it was best not to pick at the wound, but he couldn't help but smile with satisfaction. So you and Aegon were not as well off as he had assumed. At that moment, a small part of himself hated himself strongly. What kind of friend was happy because things weren't right between you and his brother? Well, he was the kind of friend who had had a crush on you since high school, the kind of friend who had taken the scholarship that took him as far away as possible from the girl he liked and who had decided to date his lazy older brother, the kind of friend who hadn't texted you in two years under the guise of being busy but had sought you out in every woman he'd ever been with. He was that kind of friend.

“I'll put it on the blackboard at the job” you smiled, trying to recover from that blow. “I have a whiteboard full of notes in the cubby and I always have problems with magnets,” you smiled. Always grateful. How could someone like Aegon take down a girl like that? You opened the shoulder bag and put the magnet inside, but not before wrapping it so it wouldn't break.

“There is another one,” Aemond told you without giving it importance. However, he was dying of shame. That gift did make him feel indescribable. He didn't know what he had been thinking while choosing such a gift. It had been a simple impulse at a summer night market. While he was drunk, more than he had ever been in his entire life. He was lying. In those moments he was lying. Of course he knew why he had taken it. It was for you. At that time he had only thought about spending a couple of months clarifying his ideas on the island. He had only dragged it out because he didn't dare come back and see you and Aegon. It was beyond his strength.

He heard a small gasp just as he finished listening to you open the other small package. He smiled while not taking his eyes off the road. “Aemond, it's beautiful,” you replied in a sigh. A blue beaded necklace rested on your lap. All blue. Sapphire blues, just the way he liked them, but there was something about the patterns on the necklace that made your heart sing. That was what you always liked about traveling, bringing things from the place. Not just a souvenir, this was much more, much more than Aemond would ever confess to you. It was everything that the woman who had sold it to him had explained to him.

“I'm glad you like it” he finally stopped the car. He had found parking in front of Aegon's house. He had already reached his final goal. Now he would start pretending that he was happy for you, for his brother, for your relationship...

“How does it look on me?” You woke him up from his thoughts, you had just put on the necklace with a smile and your eyes looked at him lit up while you smiled, a wide, perfect smile.

Aemond could not speak. He was only able to swallow saliva. His single eye scrutinized you silently. You were beautiful. You had worn his necklace. His necklace. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, almost as if he were going to destroy it. His knuckles white. His fists tense. He looked at your lips. He was going to kiss them. He had had that one thought every night for two years. He was thinking of bowing. Close his eye and savor you...

Someone banged on the window of his car, breaking him out of his own fantasy. His sister Helaena and his boyfriend, Cregan Stark, were both out. “Heyyy” Helaena greeted, completely happy and excited to see her brother. Aemond watched you unbuckle your seatbelt excitedly and you got out of the car. He did it too, although in a much worse way. He closed the door rudely and Cregan looked at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly while you greeted Helaena. Aemond knew what his sister's boyfriend thought. There the boy with anger problems from high school came to light. Aemond already controlled any attack like that, but the memory of everyone who had experienced it was still very present among them.

“Aem,” his sister greeted him again, as if she had not seen him in those two years when she had been the only one along with her mother who had visited him on the summer islands. Furthermore, he had already seen him when he got off the plane and he was the one who had taken him to the family home after the trip. A small part of Aemond hated his sister's meddling.

“It looks like she hasn’t seen you in decades,” Cregan laughed and Aemond released his sister from his neck. Cregan shook his girlfriend's hand and you remained in the discreet background. At that moment, Aemond also wanted to hold your hand, intertwine his fingers with yours as you headed to watch the fireworks. But, you weren't his girl, you were Aegon's girl.

The four of you walked to the portal of that luxury building in the middle of the city. Helaena kept asking Aemond about his trip, but he couldn't help but glance at how now all your attention had returned to your mobile phone. You half-heartedly checked your social networks. You didn't seem very excited about the prospect of seeing the fireworks. In reality, you were too tired during the day and having to share the end of it with Aegon's friends you couldn't stand didn't help the outlook.

“My God, that's me” you laughed half-heartedly when you saw yourself in the elevator mirror as you went up to the 20th floor of that luxury building. The last one, from where you could see the entire city and where Aegon now had his new dream apartment, in which you were not going to live.

“It's normal that you are tired. I don't know how you put up with that job” Helaena commented while Cregan nodded his head. “I don't know what Aegon thinks letting you stay in a place like this,” your boyfriend's sister shrugged her shoulders. “He has enough money to support you both and a good job…” he began without any malice, but then Cregan whispered in his ear.

“Hel, we've already talked about this a thousand times,” her boyfriend commented, a whisper that you barely heard, but that set off all of Aemond's alarms. He also wouldn't have let you be in a job that was obviously destroying you, not with all the money they enjoyed. He would take care of you. That's what was said...

“I just prefer to be financially independent,” you smiled again, in a polite manner. You didn't want Aegon to pay for any of your whims. Absolutely none, but it was true that the Targaryens had always seen it differently. Helaena had stopped working the same day she had gone to live with Cregan and their mother, Alicent, you doubted that she had ever worked in something other than taking care of her children. They were traditional. Everyone had very marked gender roles and… that's why everyone had expected that you and Aegon would have lived together, but that wasn't the case. Sometimes you thought about whether you and Aegon had some kind of...future.

“You're beautiful,” Aemond whispered in your ear and you smiled at him again. Helaena looked at you out of the corner of her eye. It was obvious that you were dating the wrong Targaryen. But, Aemond had never been brave enough to confess in all those years during high school, not even during university... the elevator finally stopped, but Aemond continued with his only eye fixed on you. You laughed as the door opened and you walked away from him, but that grimace with his lips half open and a mischievous smile showed Helaena that Aemond had not returned with the intention of just being your friend.

You were the one who pressed the bell, waiting for Aegon to open the door, and Helaena watched as Aemond stood right behind you, placing his hand on your lower back, in a protective movement. You didn't say anything. You were always too polite, but you weren't single. When you and Aemond had been in high school you hadn't minded gestures like that, in college neither, you had even appreciated them, but... now you were with Aegon.

Aegon opened the door, as always with a drink in his hand, inside you could already see a large crowd of people that Aegon called friends and the noise of the music was already strident. “My dragon girl” he smiled seductively at you, ignoring the others. Aemond entered the house rolling his one eye in annoyance and Helaena and Cregan followed him while you continued with a silly smile looking at him. The truth was that whenever he looked at you like that and used that tone of voice you fell apart just for him. Attraction. That was the only thing that had kept that relationship afloat. It was what you feared. “Are you staying over tonight? “To ride your dragon?” Aegon whispered to you. His breath already smelled of alcohol and Aemond pursed his lips as he left his coat on the coat rack in the hall. Was that his brother's best way to seduce you?

"Do not be silly. Of course I'm going to stay the night” you smiled at him, hitting him lightly on the chest, with an embarrassed smile. Aegon smelled of sweat and alcohol, but that didn't seem to matter to you. You had gotten used to it and took the lazy mood of the eldest Targaryen as normal.

“How pretty.” Aegon ran his fingers over the necklace Aemond had brought you. Just getting on his younger brother's nerves. His fingers handling each of the beads, without any shame. “Have you been to the stands at the fair?” He smiled at you. He was so drunk that Aemond doubted he could stand much longer, but of course he could when it came to partying, Aegon could always stand.

“Aemond brought it to me from the Summer Islands” you smiled and saw how Aegon smiled a superb smile. Of course he brought it to you. He turned to look at his brother, who at that moment took his one eye away from the two of you.

“Thank you, little brother. It's very nice what you brought for my girlfriend” he laughed cheekily, marking his territory. It seemed that the only one who didn't realize that Aemond was crazy about you was you.

“Hmm” was all you heard Aemond say as he turned and disappeared into the party. Aegon left too and you closed the door to Aegon's new house. They had both left you alone. Alone but surrounded by people. Helaena looked into the distance. Aegon was stupid to leave you alone, but Aemond was even more stupid. His pride got the best of him and he just missed a brilliant opportunity to be alone with you.

That night, Aemond Targaryen planned to confess, because the only thing that was clear to him in his life was that he could no longer hide what he felt for you.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader

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quiet-hypnotist · 6 months

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-Still now.

-Ugh...! No, I won't...

-Uh uhh. You're still confused. But don't worry, that happens sometimes.

-I'm not! What are you talking about?

-You forgot again, didn't you? That's alright. I didn't expect you to remember that you wanted this.

-You make no sense! I wanted this?

-Of course you did, silly.

-That can't... I wouldn't...

-Oh, sweetie. You would and you have. How else would I have gotten you here?

-But I... I was... What was I saying?

-You forgot again, didn't you?

-No! No, I just...

-Silly sleepyhead.

-Uhhh! What...?

-That's right. Such a silly sleepy head trying to hold such silly sleepy thoughts.

-Silly... Sleepy... No, I... Uhh, what are you doing?

-Aww, your brain forgot again, didn't it?

-Uhhh... Did it? You... Your hands…

-Silly sleepy dummy. They are just doing what they should! Making sure to keep your attention. Can't have you drifting back and forth after all. Steadily back... And forth.

-Sleepy... But umm.... Why back and.... Uhh?

-Because that makes you drowsy, sleepyhead.

-Drowsy...

-And being drowsy makes you silly, doesn't it?

-Hehe... Silly sleepyhead...

-And being silly and drowsy makes it harder to think, doesn't it?

-...Think?

-Aww, that drowsy brain forgot again.

-Drowsy... Forgot?

-Of course it did. That head is far too tired to think. So that must have been a dream. Just a silly dream in a sleepy mind.

-Hmmm... So sleepy...

-Of course you are. Because this is no time for being awake. Not when you can be so close, so very close to figuring out why this feels so good.

-Feels... Good!

-Of course it does. It feels good to sleep when you're told.

-Sleep when... Uh... But... Sleepy thought that…

-No, you didn't. Silly drowsy sleepyhead. You don't think.

-Umm... Izzat so?

-Of course it is. That's why that heavy, fuzzy head has trouble with words. Because you're having that dream again. The one where you stumble back... And forth... And right onto this fluffy bed for me. Exactly like that.

-Fluffy...!

-So that you can remember to forget about such silly things like thinking. After all, the bed is right here. No need to get up. It's a real no-brainer. Just letting go and relaxing. You can do that for me, right?

-Riiight...

-Great to hear that we agree on something. So just lean back and enjoy. You're in good hands after all. That was why you asked me to keep you so sleepy, wasn't it?

-Uhhh... Was it?

-Naturally. That silly little sleepyhead forgot, of course.

-Hehehe... Silly sleepyhead...!

-Lucky you. That's perfectly fine. Since this way you get to relax and sleep so deep that even my rambling slips right past your notice. It's fine to sleep and forget for a while longer, right?

-Fiiiiine...

-And how much longer? Oh, don't you worry your cute head about that! I'll tell you when it's time to get back from dreamland. So just listen and do as my voice says, alright?

-Yesss...!

***

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#my writing #hypnosis #brainwashing #amnesia #trance #sleep hypnosis #conditioning

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piscespetals · 9 months

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summary: in which sevika comforts you after having a nightmare

content: fluff, arcane au, soft!sevika

You can't see.

The sound of your own gasping breath causes a nauseating sensation to settle within you. Everything around you is stark black, with no sign of anything familiar to pull you back to reality.

"It's okay," Her voice just barely keeps the dam from breaking. "It's okay now. I'm here."

Another sobs rips through you.

"I know," Her coaxing is tender. "It's okay. I promise." And even though she hadn't just relived your dream, you believe her. You know that she knows. She gets it. She gets you. Somehow, without you having to explain anything, she remains right here; understanding exactly what you need. "You're safe now."

Light illuminates the room suddenly. Despite the gentle click of her bedside lamp, the change is still jarring. Your eyes begin to burn as they struggle to adjust to your restored vision.

She stares back at you with piercing grey pools of care.

In that moment, the world rights itself again.

She doesn't say anything more. Your breathing calms to a steady pace, hair rising at the base of your neck as you realize that this is all you had needed. You can't help but marvel at how easy this is. How easy she makes it. All of those months of crying yourself awake, struggling through nightmares and flashbacks, only to realize that the simple gaze of someone you care for has washed it all away.

"I'm right here." She reminds you. And then you're pressed against the side of her, your head buried in her neck as her left arm circles around your waist. Naturally, you allow your legs to rest over hers. The cool surface of her headboard against your back is the only thing that keeps you from fully melting into her embrace.

Your hands grip onto her arm, the same arm wrapped around you, and you can't help but give her a light squeeze. It's an unspoken thank you. A gesture that you know she understands. She always understands.

Beads of sweat drip down the sides of your face and onto her shoulder. You don't bother to wipe them away. And you don't think she necessarily cares.

Once you finally muster up enough courage to speak, you mumble, "It was a bad dream."

Her hold around you tightens. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You pause to ponder on her offer. Then you snort out a weird combination of a chuckle and sigh. "Not tonight. But I am more concerned that it's," You glance at the digital clock on her nightstand. "2 am in the morning and you somehow aren't tired of me."

"Why would I be?"

You lift your head, a wave of disbelief washing over you. "I've managed to disturb your sleep at 2am in the morning, Sev. Who wouldn't be even slightly annoyed by that?"

Even though you're grateful to be in this predicament, you hadn't necessarily thought you would ever get to this point with Sevika. Your friend group often teased her about being emotionally constipated. When you first met her, a month had passed before she even initiated a conversation. She wasn't the most outgoing. And she wasn't usually the type to hold people during strange hours of the night and listen to them complain about their issues.

But here she is. Holding you—asking you to complain. You struggle to fully understand why.

"The time of night is the least of my concerns right now." Sevika replies, pulling you out of your reverie. You're close enough for her breath to tickle your lips. Her pupils are dilated, gaze flickering to a space between your eyebrows. Then they trickle down to the slope of your nose before she peers at your lips. "Are you sure you don't need to talk about anything?"

You swallow thickly, reveling in the feeling of her skin against yours. Her hand slides to the base of your neck, fingers rubbing into the back of your scalp; holding you there. Tethering you to her.

A lump lodges itself in your throat. The sweetness of it all becomes painfully overwhelming. You aren't used to her being like this. And you definitely hadn't expected it. Every passing day that the two of you grow closer, the more that Sevika surprises you. The layers that come with her are multifaceted and sometimes entirely the opposite of what you initially thought.

Like now.

You blink slowly. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

A lapse of silence follows. Her eyebrows raise, head tilting in slight annoyance. You can already tell that she thinks your question is ridiculous. "You know why."

You suddenly feel naked despite being fully clothed.

Her gaze is unwavering, dark full lips parted and absolutely stunning. Your heart hammers in your ribcage. You're almost convinced it'll leap out of your chest as her words echo through your ears: You know why.

There's something between the both of you that's been boiling for a while now. You've been aware of it. It doesn't take rocket science for you to realize that friendships don't usually consist of shared kisses and slow morning rises with countless cuddles and breakfast food. At least, that's not how it's been for you with your past friendships.

But despite the line that's obviously been crossed, the both of you have yet to define exactly what you mean to each other.

It's something that you haven't been willing to say—for the fear of being rejected. For the fear of scaring Sevika away (it's taken a long time for her to become completely comfortable with you), and also for the fear of things changing.

You don't like change.

Not when everything is already perfect as it is.

But the signs are starting to become increasingly harder to ignore when she says things like 'You know why.'

"Did I scare you off..." She asks, grip tightening around your scalp in an attempt to regain your attention. It's a habit of hers you've grown to love. Your body grows rigid, a powerful magnetic force hitting you right in the gut. Within seconds, she loosens her grip, scratching gently into your scalp, completely oblivious to the sparks that she's triggered.

"No," You reply, mind fuzzy. "The opposite, really."

Her expression remains placid, as usual. But there's a tender shift in her eyes. It's subtle but it's there.

She tugs you closer to her and that's when you realize that you're in an awkward position of halfway sitting in her lap. You find yourself shifting your weight, trying to get comfortable despite the crick in your lower back.

"Here," She mumbles, pulling you towards her more. You allow her to guide you before repositioning yourself. You face her as you sit in her lap fully, legs straddling her. Both of her arms take this moment as an opportunity to wrap around your hips. Your heartbeat jumps up to your throat.

These feelings, these thoughts, are something that you don't ever think you'll get used to. Your mind can't help but focus on her half-lidded sleepy eyes, and how perfect they are when gazing at you in this way. She's wearing a tank top, which displays her broad shoulders and bulging bicep muscles.

And her hands....

God. Those hands.

She squeezes your hips and you bite your tongue to keep from reacting too strongly.

"Where do you keep going?" She inquires, searching your face with mild concern. She taps gently on one of your temples. "You don't always have to think so hard, you know."

Your throat is dry.

Like, desert dry.

You try to swallow but you can't.

Because she's so fucking handsome and caring in this moment.

You swallow thickly, an undeniable hunger rumbling through you. Out of complete desire, you reach up, fingertips brushing against the warmth of her brown skin.

You nod. "I know."

Then you bring your other hand up to cup her right cheek, caressing her for a few gentle moments, before traveling down to her neck. Your fingers graze against a few of her scars, rubbing gently into the skin, testing out the waters; hoping that this sort of intimacy is okay. She sighs at the feeling. Her eyes soften.

"You were screaming," She continues. "And no matter how hard I was trying to wake you, you wouldn't budge. I was worried."

Your eyes widen, realization settling within you from her admission.

She's still worried.

The kind of worry that she's never shown towards you before.

The kind of deep-seeded worry that people only have for those they really care about.

"I'm okay." You reassure her. Your hands shake as you squeeze her shoulders. "It was just a dream. Nothing worth mentioning for the time being, but I'm okay." Your chest hurts. Your throat hurts...your eyes. All of it. Feelings crash into one another, creating an impactful explosion within your heart. "You're here with me. So I'm more than okay."

Her eyes resemble something raw—almost close to...

"Okay." Her expression becomes heady. She allows her gaze to focus on your lips, incredibly transparent in her wanting—not holding back in the slightest with her intentions.

You analyze her in return, both confused and curious by her behavior. She lingers for so long, close enough for you to taste her breath, yet so far away. Your heart jumps into your throat as she peers back with an indescribable glint.

You feel a strong surge overtake you with a stuttering breath before you're leaning forward.

Lips and breath draw together, forming into the shape of one, and shooting a trail of shivers straight down your spine. Your mind buzzes, her affection unraveling you; breaking you. She's all soft skin and devastating fervor, with sounds of stars exploding between you two. The feeling of her holding you with immense regard—and the sensation of her chest pressing against yours, hands chaining you to her lap, digging into the flesh of your thighs with a delicious strength—has you falling apart pathetically.

You can certainly determine that there's been poems written about Sevika. The push-and-pull feeling of such perfection like her, with all of her charm and strength, is the sort of beauty that not every human is lucky enough to come across.

She bites and sucks and licks and it's otherworldly. Kisses melt into one another as a rhythm of panting and gasping materializes. She pulls away, lips planting into warm patterns against your neck. Your head tilts, need washing through every inch of your body.

Your grip on her shoulders tighten almost dangerously—to pull her close? Or steady yourself?—You can't be sure anymore. But she doesn't seem to mind, moaning into your mouth at the action.

Sevika is the first one that breaks away, lips puffy and pulled into a gorgeous grin.

Your lungs nearly collapse at the sight. This kind of smile that she wears is rare, laugh lines prevalent around her mouth with her gapped teeth on full display.

"As long as you continue to do that," You utter, still struggling to catch your breath. "I'm pretty sure I'll always be okay." Then you shake your head, attempting to center yourself from the high.

She chuckles knowingly, smile widening so much that her face almost breaks. "I'll make sure to hold you to that."

#lesbian #arcane au #fanfic #sevika x you #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #fluff #arcane netflix #au #au writing #soft!sevika #piscespetals writing

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vinxhwrites · 5 months

Text

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

#ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod one shot #ghostsoap

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dumplingsjinson · 1 month

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an update on cat guy because it's been a hot minute since i've done one, i think. i don't remember if i've talked about him lately so here goes.

i had a date with cat guy on monday night; met his extended family again for his cousin's birthdy party (which i was informed about ON MONDAY MORNING SO I WAS LIKE HUH), was somehow roped into being in some of the pictures as well so i'm like- oh. they remember me, but i don't remember their names lmfao weflnewklnf

i ended up staying over (like i've been doing literally every date now lmfao).

ANYYWAAYYY, we've been having this thing where tickle fights (started by my menace self) would turn into his face being so close to mine, and i'd have to resist the temptation to kiss him just because i love playfighting with him (because i know once i give in, he'd kiss me hard and wouldn't let me go for a damn while) even though it ends up with me losing EVERY TIME.

and i also just love hearing him laughing. like, sometimes he'd try to kiss me and i'd pretend to give in and then be like HAHA no- we STILL HAVE MORE OF THIS TO GO!

whenever i actually give up because i lowkey tired myself out with all the resisting, he'd move in closer and... well, yeah.

FORGIVE A GIRL FOR GIVING INTO THE TEMPTATION OF RELIEVING THAT SEXUAL TENSION OKAY.

(TMI below the line, if you don't want to see me share the details then spare yourself lmfao)

now that's out of the way.

things would get pretty hot and heavy (my question to him last night, verbatim, after we calmed down a little: "how do we always end up like this?" and mfer goes "is there a problem with that?" in his usual teasing tone while holding me even closer to him EVERY GOD DAMN TIME.

and no, i'm not complaining, because i have needs and wants and i am not someone who's afraid to admit that and usually i want that to happen which is why i start the tickle fights HAHAH

so that night, let's just say i was being a very needy lil shit (his thigh was involved) and i was like blabbering and being all like "this is so embarrassing" in a soft whine, and this man goes:

"it's so hot," in that husky voice of his.

FUCKING EXCUSE-

he also called me his good girl once again AND IT NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME FEEL SO SHY LKWENFWEKN

anyways.

after that first session (yes we had another one afterwards, stfu-), i was telling him how i wanna make him feel good too (he's always the one making me feel good and i felt so selfish for receiving so much and giving so little).

he proceeds to tell me, "you make me happy. i like making you feel good and as long as you feel good and you're happy, then i feel good, too."

and me, while stroking his hair and feeling guilty with the knowledge that he's usually the one giving, "but are you happy?" (and when i asked that, even though he already said i make him happy, i meant like... is he really happy?? considering how, in my head, he was giving so much and i wasn't returning much. not because i don't want to but because he never asks for much even when i straight up ask him what he wants me to do with him. i'm just someone who very easily doubts things).

and motherfucker on a truck (the sweetheart that he fucking is onrgklfnw), goes: "yeah. i'm happy when you're happy, because i love you so much" and lays his head on my chest and i'm likeee HELLLPPPPPP ofnewklnfw 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

after like a moment or two because my brain is a piece of laggy shit, i mutter a soft "i love you, too" and hold him closer to me bECAUSE I'M BAD AT EXPRESSING MY AFFECTIONS WITH WORDS AND SAYING I LOVE YOU IS NOT SOMETHING THAT NATURALLY COMES TO ME EVEN WHEN IT'S SAID TO ME FIRST OKAY, LEAVE ME ALONEEEEE

i've asked him plenty of times prior to this time what he wants me to do with him and it all boils down to this: he's someone who likes to please, rather than to be pleased.

which is fair enough, but i did tell him if he ever wants me to do anything, he can tell me.

but yeah. all this happened.

and i can't wait to see him again for his friend's birthday party, which he invited me to wlknfe

it's so funny bc i feel like i'm slowly entering his world and i'm part of his comfort zone now.

he's also an insufferable piece of shite and a right old prat at times, but i love him either way <3

he also did suggest something he's wanted to try but never got around to doing so after that talk of ours, which lead into the second session SAURRR

:))) i love him-

#cat guy chronicles #long post #personal #love life rambles

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arafergirl-artdump · 4 months

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(eng/jpn/rus) Starter pack when you discovered you're autistic.

(Little disclaimer: This was made totally based on my own experience. Also, i mainly write about things related to autistic experience, but it's not exclusive to it. It possibly can help ADHD/ADDers, high sensitive people and everyone who have any relation to some autistic traits)

Hi there! If you are reading this, i can assume you recently discovered you're autistic. Well, it can explains a lot of what happened in your life, but sure you're thinking "what's next? Will it change something in my life?". For this i need to explain what is masking.

From Wikipedia: "In psychology and sociology, masking is the process in which an individual camouflages their natural personality or behavior to conform to social pressures, abuse, or harassment". So, basically, it means you're hiding some traits of you and your personality by (in neurodivergent case) mirroring others. It can start in very young age. I can assume you're older than 8, so you can consider as late-diagnosed, so you probably masked a lot. Later (or even now) you can notice that your behaviour changes: you notice how loud, bright, smelly, ect. things can be, you do more repetative movements (it's called stimming, it can be not only physical. Listening a lot of music can consider stimming too, for example), you maybe start to talking about things you like a lot, like, A LOT. It means you are unmasking, maybe some thing are not so noticable for you, that's fine, every autistic experience is individual. I mean, if you already notice those things, i can advise you some things that helped and still helping me.

Let's start with clothes. Sure you know this feeling when you're in some itchy clothes and it's so itchy you want it to pull off immediately. Well, now you know the reason why you felt it! But where you can buy clothes that will NOT give you this feeling? The only brand that never gave me this sensory hell is UNIQLO, plus their clothes are genderless. But if you can't buy their clothes or prefer other brands for reason, just make sure this piece is have a huge percent of cotton, lien, bamboo or any othere sensory safe fabrics.

So, what about other senses? Well, there's a poll in here that shows that most neurodivergent people are mostly sensitive to noises (of course it's not an offical research, it's just a Tumblr poll). You propably should get some noise-cancelling headphones. Also you can get construction headphones! I actually have ones, it's good for going outside, but isn't if you want to lay down because of how big they are. Well, i recommend get both and use them at the same time. Also you may have problems with lights, so get yourself a good glasses if your eyes will be tired. There's nothing i can recommend for smell and taste, well, you probably already have safe food even if you don't recognise it yet, so find foods that are safe for you.

And not so first need things! They can help you in the future, but some isn't nesecary if you don't have needs i have. So, in short:

weighted blanket - good for sleep or when you're feeling anxious. If you can, buy it, but you can make it by yourself.

fidget toys - good for stimming, but some of them are can be loud, so my ultimate recommendation is Tangle. But only you know what's good for you!

AAC app - good if you don't like use your voice much. Currently i use "Card talk" and it's good for communicating, but there's bugs with created cards' audios, it can become too fast or too slow. You can fix it by closing and opening the app again, but it can be a bit annoying.

I hope it can help you with living your autistic life comfortably! Reminder: it's based on my experience, so i'm sure there's somenthing that bother you less and bothers me a lot. Well, i said everything i wanted to, so have a great day!

(Damn, this post is long)

(PS: "Card Talk" is so buggy i need to make new audio for created cards. If you aren't multilingual as me, better find other apps)

(PPS: I just found one that is good for multilinguals, it's "Cboard"! So if you're talking in more than one language, this app is pretty good!)

#autism #self help #advice #aac device #noise canceling headphones #fidget toys #article #actually autistic #neurodivergent #30 notes

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fascinatedscrawls · 5 days

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Phic Phight Prompt: Kwan starts a poetry club and invites everyone at school to the first monthly poetry slam. Some unexpected poets show up.

Word Count: 1881

For TheSilentBard

Summary: When Kwan revives the old poetry club he gets a bigger crowd than expected. Danny's sure no one is going to forget this meeting, especially not Mr. Lancer.

The club room is full to bursting, students - some excited, but most reluctantly - occupying each of the cheap chairs scattered almost haphazardly around the place. Slouched in one of the back corners, Danny watches Mr. Lancer pick his way through the messy array of seats to get to the front of the room with a dead-eyed stare.

"Excuse me, pardon me, please don't leave your - oof!" The teacher trips and nearly falls, barely catching himself on the back of a chair instead of braining himself on it and all Danny can muster the energy for at the sight is a slow blink. "Lord of the Flies, Mr. Baxter! Do be more careful with where you rest your feet!"

Closing his eyes even if he knows he can't sleep here Danny hears a snort which could only come from Sam. Technically, unlike him and Tucker, she isn't required to attend the club session for a chance at extra credit because she's acing the class.

"It hasn't started yet." Tucker points out helpfully, stylus still tap tap tapping away at his PDA. "You could leave. If you actually wanted to."

The teasing barb hits its mark once again and Sam slouches further into her seat with a tsk.

"I'm here to watch how hard this bombs." In her pause for emphasis, Danny can almost hear her rolling her eyes. "I haven't wasted fifteen minutes of my afternoon just to leave before the show even starts."

"So you admit that you're attending the new poetry club for fun." Tucker snipes, smile clear in his voice. There's a scuffle over Danny's head as Tucker ducks whatever Sam threw in retaliation. Used to it and too tired to participate, Danny slumps down until his head is resting on the back of his chair. The smooth plastic is uncomfortable and his spine is already protesting at the angle, but pushing himself back up is just too much work.

Now at the front of the room, Mr. Lancer speaks to Kwan at a volume that's likely a little louder than he thinks. Or, Danny grimaces as something else flies over his head and Sam hisses, it could be some kind of ghostly hearing he's developing.

Ancients he hopes its not that, but it would explain why he's finding it so hard to sleep these past few nights. Even for the evenings without ghostly visitors he's barely getting a couple of hours at a time. He opens his eyes to glare at the injustice of it all, which looks a lot like the pockmarked ceiling of the club room.

"Now, we're all very excited to see the old poetry club get enough interest and funding to finally return after over a decade with no members," Mr. Lancer says catching Danny's attention and likely repeating himself for what must be at least the third time if Kwan's disinterested smile is anything to go by. Two encouraging pats on his shoulder courtesy of their teacher twists his smile into something closer to a grimace for half a second before it settles into a more natural expression. "I know you had something in mind for the first meeting and hopefully, by offering that extra credit today you'll see membership continue to improve. However, if things go off the rails you can count on me to help with your inaugural meeting."

The words would likely be more comforting if someone didn't yelp in the back of the room just as he said them. Wincing, Danny closed his eyes at the loud noise before a tingle at the back of his throat made him straighten up abruptly. Eyes wide and far more alert than before, he stares open mouthed at a handful of ghosts calmly floating in through the closed door, drifting towards the front of the room without any care for who might be sitting in their way.

Another aborted scream or two rings out before Mr. Lancer even has a chance to turn to address it with a, "Edgar Allen P-"

The last of the English teacher's oft stated and highly creative use of the famous poets name as an epithet cuts off in the face of the man himself.

Or more accurately, the ghost himself.

Mr. Lancer coughs behind a hand, clearly having a hard time believing his eyes. At least a third of the room is on their feet, but when the ghosts do nothing more than mutter to each other they clearly start to relax. After months of ghost attacks and at least a few weeks of less dangerous hauntings happening all over town it looks like most of his classmates are willing to risk a sudden, potentially dangerous turn around in an attempt to earn a few more free points for class.

"Poe?" Mr. Lancer finally manages to squeak out. He looks ready to faint as the ghost nods a greeting (the ghostly raven on his shoulder doing the same, pulling a snicker from a few people around the room including Tucker), but holds it together with a gulp as he straightens his tie.

"Shakespeare, Poe, Dickinson, Frost - what do you know," Sam mutters as she identifies more of the ghosts on stage than Danny could have managed. It's no wonder she's actually passing the class. "Maybe this won't be so bad after all."

"How," Mr. Lancer visibly swallows back his nerves even as his hands shake. "How nice of you to join us. Will any of you be participating in our poetry readings today?"

"Yes. As always, we're here to share our works -" One of the ghosts (is it Frost or Dickinson? Wait, Danny corrects himself, he's pretty sure Dickinson is the lady actually) says before getting interrupted by the raven.

"Evermore!"

The ghost sighs at the spectral bird, but they clearly expected the interruption as they don't comment on it. Instead they go back to consulting with the ghost beside them, quietly discussing which poem they'd like to read today if their only faintly indistinct mutters are anything to go by.

"Delightful!" This has absolutely made Mr. Lancers day if not his whole month judging by his wide smile. He turns the slightly manic expression on Kwan who flinches under the force of it. "Perhaps we can hold off on your planned presentations until after our guests have, ahem, graced us with their works?"

It sounds less like a question and more like an order, especially when Mr. Lancer doesn't even wait for a response before motioning Kwan to a nearby seat.

Danny relaxes into his own with a light sigh of relief as the scattered conversations around them take on an edge of awed excitement. Not a fight then. Huh, he's actually not sure why he thought there was going to be one when clearly these ghosts are just here to indulge in their obsessions.

He quickly puts the thought out of his mind and settles in to hopefully enjoy a performance straight from the horses mouth (maybe that will be what finally helps him understand iambic pentameter), which means he jumps along with half the students when the door gets kicked in.

"Freeze, ecto-scum!" Two white suited men shout in what has to be a practiced synchronization of words and poses. Both of them have ecto guns in their hands. Hilariously, neither of the blasters are pointed anywhere near any of the ghosts.

"They should probably take off the sunglasses." Sam snarks, now on her feet and sounding more relaxed than her tense posture displays.

"But without them they'd just be odd wedding ushers." On Danny's other side Tucker eyes the GIW agents with all the suspicion they're due.

"I think they'd be just as blind either way," Danny points out, sliding his chair a little further back in case he needs to disappear behind his friends. It's looking more likely.

Or it is before Danny gets a look at Mr. Lancer's face.

Danny has done many things that his teacher does not approve of. He's missed class, forgotten homework, fallen asleep on his desk, and even attempted to cheat on his exams, but never before has he seen Mr. Lancer look like this. Instinctively, he finds himself hunching his shoulders in an attempt to make himself smaller, less noticeable, in the face of someone clearly ready to rain hellfire upon their enemies.

The GIW are making an attempt to aim at their foes only to find themselves blocked bodily by one enraged vice-principal.

"Gentlemen," Mr. Lancer grinds out, frowning hard enough that Danny starts to wonder if the expression hurts him to maintain. His words are polite, but the tone is very clear: he doesn't hold even an ounce of respect for these invaders. "Our poetry club was just about to start. Please see yourselves out if you plan to be disruptive."

The white suited agents protest loudly, but it's abundantly clear that between Mr. Lancer and the students who were excited for a chance to hear from the masters (or possibly, just very invested in this afternoon's extra credit) that they won't be capturing or shooting any ghosts today.

That's good, because Danny's too busy trying to slow his heart rate down after he finally noticed Sidney Poindexter hovering just behind his shoulder. It took Tucker pointedly clearing his throat and Danny's pretty sure he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of the glowing teen.

"I see you've found the Dead Poets Society," He pushes his glasses back into place with a bland look in the face of Danny's weak glare. "I had wondered where they got to when they missed our usual club meeting."

"They meet regularly?" Danny asks, but doesn't get more than a nod in response before Sam cuts in with a question of her own.

"Why at the school? I'm sure there's other good places to meet."

"I invited them and offered it as a neutral ground." There's a pause as Danny shares a look with Sam and Tucker, all of them imagining the circumstances behind some famous poets needing specifically 'neutral ground' to meet on. Danny winces as he suddenly remembers every bruise or worse that he's gotten since ghosts started visiting Amity Park's very clearly not-at-all-neutral ground. Sidney ignores their silent conversation, not looking away from the ghosts quietly arguing at the front of the room. "It certainly made the poetry club less repetitive, so I've let the weekly meetings continue."

"So what you're saying," Tucker grins as the door to the classroom is slammed shut and locked, muffling the indignant agents' argument, "is that we're definitely in for a show."

"Well, I could imagine worse ways to spend my afternoon." Arms crossed, Sam settles back into her chair and, following Sidney's example, ignores how Tucker's smile somehow reaches new heights of smugness.

"Well, at least it will be an interesting extra credit assignment."

And maybe, if he's lucky, it'll be a reoccurring one. Danny could really use the extra help passing any of his classes. Besides, if the stars in Mr. Lancer's eyes are anything to go by, Danny wouldn't be the only one checking in on the poetry club's weekly meetings from now on. Danny might as well get some extra points for keeping an eye on some positive ghost-human interactions.

#phic phight 2024 #one shot #danny phantom

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googleitlol · 6 months

Text

It's been awhile but I wanted to post this little blurb to continue my Dove fic posts. I'm almost done with midterms so it felt nice to flesh out pt. 1 of this scene for a little break!

btw… ik this is a wukong x reader but, uh, it takes a while for the whole shipping part to happen… I'm sorry they literally hate each other but I'll get to the actual shipping when it happens, naturally. (It just might take… time) ANYWAY ENJOY–

Dove Masterlist

TW: Gore

Disagreements

The young monk shivers slightly at the chill of an adolescent winter's breeze. Many of the flora along the road that has been so frequently travelled was now coated in a blanket of frost. Snow has yet to fall, though it will no doubt come soon. Clouds cross the sky at a steady pace, the wind encouraging their movement.

You walk alongside the horse that carries the Tripitaka monk, feeling the need to stretch your legs. The past few days you spent in your dove form were nice, despite having to listen to all of that irritating monkey's exaggerated tales, but sitting on Tripitaka's shoulder for so long began to feel tiring.

The Monkey King walks on the other side of the horse, whether he is unaware of your annoyed glances or just doesn't care is unclear. After spending the entire morning boasting to his master about his many accomplishments, one would think that he'd look your way and catch your glare. Or maybe he just enjoys seeing such a sour look on your face. With him, who knows?

The young master himself also failed to pick up on the annoyance that stems from his trusted ally, too enamoured with his disciple's stories. Wukong has a true sense for theatrics, which made his tall tales all the more entertaining. Even if the monk seemed ever so slightly put off whenever the king explained how he committed some of the atrocities from his past to earn his reputation, Tripitaka kept his small smile from the excitement in the monkey's voice.

Sighing over the tale of how the Great Sage earned his iron staff, Tripitaka turns to you. "What of you, young companion?" The question makes you look up in slight surprise. "You've nearly lived as long as Pilgrim Monkey here, even despite your mortality. Have you any tales as grand as his?"

You hum for a moment, in thought as your memory of every exciting moment from your life fails to recall itself. "None that comes to mind, Great Monk. I spent most of my life in training, which was long and tedious."

The young man frowns. "You've lived over five hundred years, have you not? Surely you have some stories to tell."

His curiosity makes you hum in amusement. The monk is close to you in age, though his wide eyes of wonder fill you with a strange warmth. Many weeks have passed since the start of the journey, and if not for the formalities you attempt to hold yourself to, you might consider the Great Monk a good companion, a friend. But that feels inappropriate to say.

"I suppose there are some, though not all of them are as light-hearted as the supposed Great Sage." You cast another glance to the celestial primate, who now finally looks to you. His expression is neutral, though, from the past few weeks of travel, you feel that the short abrupt flicks from the tip of his tail expose a glimpse at his own irritation.

Maybe he can't handle not having his master's attention. Good. "However, I haven't lived as long as you believe. Those five hundred years were spent in the Jade Palace, where time moves differently. What was centuries on the mortal plain was merely a few years for me."

To your surprise, the monk laughs lightly, eyes shining in delight. "You say you have no stories to tell, yet you lived in the Jade Palace? Never have I heard of a mortal staying in the realm of the celestials." You don't miss the twitch of Sun Wukong's brow, a hint of a smirk creeping its way onto your face. "Tell me, what is it like there?"

"Why ask the measly Dove?" Wukong laughs before you can answer. "I lived up there as well, you know. I've held two separate positions with those heavenly deities! I can tell you of the feasts, how servants waited on me, that I was given my very own office, even!"

You nearly surprise yourself as a cackle escapes your throat. The two men look at you as you cough discreetly into your arm. "Apologies, but you were the stable boy, were you not?" His tail flicks another time, now being accompanied with his ears flattening against his head. The Great Sage really spoke more through his body language than his words, you found.

"My second position was much more important." His eyes roll as his arms cross. "Not that you could understand what it means to be given such responsibilities from the court of heaven."

He's defensive, that's cute. "Maybe not. Although, you didn't seem to last long in either job offer, did you?"

That makes him laugh proudly. "At least I earned my place there by becoming the strongest. What did you do, again? Give Guan Yin some sad eyes until she gave you your little vacation?"

You frown at that, eyes narrowing. "Don't act like your presence was wanted, Ape." Tripitaka gives you a look of surprise at the snap of tone in your voice. "I was there because I had to be, we are not the same. You earned your place by causing so many problems, the Court's only diplomatic option was to keep you entertained!"

"And what do you know of my matters in Heaven?" Sun Wukong barks out another laugh, his tone mocking. You clench your fist as you glare at the being before you. His tail whips wildly now from side to side, his teeth bared with a threatening smile.

His question makes you roll your eyes, as though he had forgotten your very first encounter."Did your time under that mountain make you senile or did you forget I witnessed your rampage firsthand, you idiotic, brainless, stupid and foul—"

"Stop!" Your eyes snap towards the direction of a new voice. Men quickly surround you and the pilgrims, all brandishing weapons against your group. Tripitaka looks between them all with fear as you smile to yourself. It's been too long since there was some action on this trip.

One of the six blocking your path steps forward, a man holding out his sword as he spoke. “Leave your horse and drop your bags, otherwise us kings of the highway will cut you down where you stand!” You can see he means business, but it only makes you itch to jump into action. It’ll be good to take down such lawless men–

A body hits the ground before you can reach for your weapon.

The bandits fall silent, five pairs of eyes wide with fear as the Pilgrim readjusts the grip of his staff. A steady drip of scarlet liquid falls by his feet. The body before him lays on its side, its head caved in a few paces away. Blood pours from it, pooling over the ground just where some of his insides are now exposed. The man’s eyes are still open, stuck in an expression stricken with terror.

“Whoops.” The monster shrugs. “Sometimes I forget what flimsy bodies you have.”

They all run, screaming as their prosecutor gives chase. Not a single man made it off the road. All you can do is stand amidst it all, the young monk atop the horse mirroring your expression of absolute dread. The men no longer hold life in their eyes, their bodies bent and mangled, spread along the path with their weapons in the now non-existent grasp of their hands. The Monkey King stood between it all, his hand casually wiping away the blood that had splashed onto his face in his swift deliverance of death. He didn’t even bother with the ripples of deep red that now stain his clothing and arms.

You have to fight back the bile that attempts to claw up your throat. While you manage to succeed, Tripitaka fails miserably. The monk fumbles off the horse, nearly losing his footing before you catch and help him to the side of the road where he empties his stomach. You’ve seen horrors, bodies of demons dismembered and bathed in blood. Many fights end in casualties, death is nothing new, but to see the Monkey King wield his staff…

It doesn’t help seeing human bodies discarded in such a way… no matter how many demons you’ve fought, seeing a person mutilated in such a way always leaves a gaping hole in the depths of your stomach and an intense weight holding down your heart.

Sun Wukong looks at the two of you, unbothered by his actions. “That guy has some spare arrows, Dove. You can never have too many, right?”

You can’t manage to say a word before Tripitaka regains his bearings and marches towards his disciple. “What have you done?!”

“Me?” The demon laughs. “Got us some free clothes, and a pretty good travel allowance if these guys were any good at robbing.”

“You killed them! You murdered six men!” The monk shouts, his voice just barely withholding an emotion you have yet to see from the man.

Wukong scoffs at the appalled reaction to his actions. “And you’re welcomed for it.”

“No–” The man sighs. “Sun Wukong, you’re a buddhist now, and we don’t kill people.”

“Pssh– they were asking for it.” The monkey scoffs, crouching down to shake some more of the human remains off his staff.

“No!” You’re surprised to hear such a strong demand from the measly monk, his voice more stern than you’ve ever heard. “You made a deal with the bodhisattva and whether you like it or not you will uphold your part of the bargain. That means not killing people!”

The disciple looks up at that. “You’re really upset? They wanted to rob you.”

“Not even a judge would give a death sentence for that!” He argues, his open glare taking his new student aback.

“Hey, what’s done is done. You can sit here and complain about it or we can keep moving.” He turns to continue west, looking over his shoulder as he does. His expression is more annoyed now, his tail flicking to and fro impatiently, waiting for his Master’s sign to keep moving.

But Tripitaka’s stare bears down on his pupil. “No. I won’t take another step with a murderer claiming to be my disciple.”

“Come on, you’re being ridiculous.” The Monkey King turns back to face us, a frown now hardening over his features.

“A person who murders in cold blood cannot call himself a buddhist.”

The two glare daggers into one another, it almost takes you aback. You didn’t realise the monk could take such a stand, yet here he is. Against the Great Sage, no less. Yet he refuses to back down, even with the demon challenging him. The air between the two feels thick, as though it’s become a semisolid you have to hold your breath in.

After what feels like an eternity, the monkey laughs. “Fine then, I guess I’m no buddhist.” He turns, taking a few steps away before calling back. “Good luck making it to the west, Master.”

“Wha–” Before Tripitaka is even able to speak, Monkey King hops onto his Somersault Cloud. “Wait, you can’t leave!”

“Watch me.” The demon glances back to the two of you, and you catch his eye for the briefest moment. Before he takes off, you make sure he sees the grin resting on your face. You know that all he’s doing is proving your point, from your talk by the river. He knows it too, and he must hate it.

He’s gone before another second can pass, and all that’s left on the path is you, Tripitaka, the horse, and six dead men.

The monk keeps his eyes on the path the Great Sage took through the sky, his eyes wide with despair. “…What did I just do?”

Slowly, you approach the man, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You scolded a centuries-old demon for good reason, and he went to sulk about it.”

“No… no, no, no, no! This is terrible!” Tripitaka’s hands shoot to his head, eyes wide and panicked. “I’ve lost my first disciple! What am I supposed to do? Where did he even go?! I was angry, I didn’t mean–”

“Monk, you must calm yourself.” You disrupt the spiral of distress before it can continue any longer. “You did the right thing. Your disciple did something wrong, you confronted him. Look at his actions!”

As the monk turns to glance at the casualties left behind, you quickly stop him. “Actually, don’t. I wouldn’t want you to get sick again.”

“I didn’t mean for him to leave, but I couldn’t just excuse–” The man cuts himself off, his face pale from just the thought of what we had witnessed mere moments ago.

Holding his arms, you offer a comforting smile. “I understand, but there’s no need to worry.”

“No need?” He guffaws. “Sun Wukong is gone!”

You sigh quietly under your breath. “I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner, but I had a feeling something like this would happen. I just didn’t think it’d be this soon.” You do your best to suppress the chuckle that tries to escape your throat.

“Guan Yin has left me with something for a situation like this.”

The slight frown you receive tells you the man’s interest is now piqued. “What?”

You glance back at the road before answering. “Help me with the robbers, and I’ll explain. Your disciple will be back, and we’ll have to be ready when he does.”

“I… I don’t understand.” Tripitaka frowns. “How do you know he’ll return?”

You don’t bother to hide your smirk as you think back to that night by the river.

“I'll be there to watch the moment you mess up.”

“He’ll want to prove me wrong.”

#honey no #you don't know what you're abt to do #girlie abt to unleash pure trauma #little dove #sun wukong #jttw sun wukong #tripitaka #jttw tripitaka #journey to the west #sun wukong x reader #jttw

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blueclownsworld · 22 days

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Hello :)

Do you write platonic?

If you do could you please write a father Aizawa in which he and his daughter fighted over some stupid thing and she ended up admiting something she thought she would never tell him? And then how he reacts over it?

(Maybe that she is of the lgtb+ or that she is dating someone she shouldnt because is older or something else)

Thanks :)

author's note: hiii !! yes, i do write platonic. more on my other account, but here as well ! ( aaaa also I loved writing this, hopefully you like it tooo )

🎀

"I am going to go to the mall", you state and stare at your father with unwavering determination. "You can't control my social life."

Aizawa sighs deeply and rubs the space between his eyebrows before answering sternly "I am not controlling your social life, I am simply telling you that you're cleaning your room first. And if I may remind you, this task of yours was supposed to be done three days ago."

You roll your eyes at him, crossing your arms. Aizawa could be so stubborn when he wanted to be, and you were no different.

"Look, it. doesn't. matter", you spell out to him, only annoying him further with your attitude. "The room isn't going to rotten during the couple of hours I spend at the mall."

"Yes, but this is a rule we established ages ago. Your duties come first, then friends", your father reminds and gives you a stern look with his tired eyes.

"Duties, duties and duties. It's all you talk about these days", you mutter and continue "What happened to 'Hey, how was your day?' 'Is there anything you'd like to talk about?' or 'Would you like to spend time with me?' ? Now it's just 'Did you clean your room like you promised to?' 'Your grades have dropped, pay more attention' and 'Do your damn duties, kid'."

Aizawa's eyebrows furrow at your words and he pauses to think. It was true that lately there had been this strange distance between the two of you, caused by multiple different factors coming together into a mess.

"You're focused on the wrong things, this is why I never told you about my girlfriend!" you finally yell the words that had been fighting to get out for a long time already.

For a long minute both of you just stare at each other with widened eyes, it was hard to determine which one of you were more shocked by your words.

Eventually your father clears his throat and decides to break the silence "..You have a girlfriend?" His tone was no longer harsh or annoyed, just purely curious.

You contemplate your answer for a moment before nodding "Yes, I have. I was planning to go to the mall with her."

"Why didn't you tell me? Was I truly that distanced from you?" he questioned, still not accusing or blaming you for anything. Only a hint of hurt was visible in his voice as he started to realise the true depth of the distance between you two.

"I.. I wasn't sure how you would react", you explain and fidget with your sleeve due to slight anxiety. He seemed very understanding at the moment, yet you couldn't help but to feel worried. "And it's just- you're far away."

'Far away.'

Those words truly crushed his heart. Being a parent was never easy, especially when the child grew older and started taking distance to their parent. It was hard to determine how long distance was natural and how long wasn't, yet now it hit him. You two were too far away.

"I'm so sorry", Aizawa whispers softly and takes your hands in his, meeting your eyes with gentle and loving ones. "I never meant to make you feel this way nor take distance. Know that I'll always do my best to support you, and you liking girls won't change that either."

You squeeze his hands tightly and try to hold back the invetable tears before he pulls you close and and allows you to cry on his shoulder while he caresses your hair to help you calm down again.

There were no words fitting for the moment, nor were they needed. You stayed in his arms for a long while before you two had an actual conversation, were you truly listened to each other and promised to work on the emotional distance. After that conversation you weren't hesistant to tell him things anymore, and you were reassured of his care for you.

🎀

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noemitenshi · 8 months

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Do you have an ultimate all time fave Troy scene that you could gush about forever?

Oh god that's such a difficult question. Honest answer would be 'no' because I just cannot choose. I have *so many* favorite Troy scenes that I love to go on and on about. Like, really, I think every ep he is in, I've got at least(!!) one scene I could gush about. I mean, I can't even tell you which ep I love him most in.

Though I do have at least two eps my mind goes to first when asked for favorite Troy scenes - ep 9 and ep12. And again, there's a lot of scenes to love in there but I think most about ep 9 is the confrontation with Madison (and, of course, stabbing his hand on Klah's knife. gotta love that enthusiasm). He's so vulnerable during it, like we get another little puzzle piece of his rich inner life that he keeps so closely guarded (ok or maybe it's also that he wasn't really a hm POV character or someone we should sympathize with that's why his... reasoning or motivation for a lot of things stayed hidden from us 🤷‍♀️). Anyway, the way he says "is that guilt" and "you let *your son* shoot him" (im obsessed) jesus there's a lot going on there. It seems like betrayal a bit (see also "i thought you were cold-blooded"). Also note how he's more fixated/upset over that part, Nick (and not Madison!) shooting Jeremiah instead of, you know, Jeremiah having been shot/murdered.

Also the infamous "I don't surrender" line, I mean, that's Troy in a nutshell, isn't it? No matter what is thrown his way, no matter how people treat him, he tries and tries again. He does so with Madison (I mean, right before she kills him he tries to move past all that shit right, tries again to connect with her), he also did so with his father, staying loyal to him, obedient, through all that abuse and humiliation and belittlement. I think the same is also true for his relationship with Jake, even though the cracks there can be seen, and also for his relationship with the people on the ranch at large. They talk about him, too, but he still protects them - I mean until he led the horde there, of course. But by that point he was dealing with a lot - his father's death, his own exile, Madison's 'betrayal'.... Anyway, I don't surrender, that is so very Troy. And maybe sometimes he'd like to surrender, give up and be done with everything but that's just not in his nature. Probably why he can't kill himself. Why he also keeps going, when Nick tells him "you can sleep when you're dead". Try, try again, even when people keep beating him down. Downright endearing if it weren't so heartbreaking.

Anyway, ep 9. The scene with Madison. I got distracted. The way he goes "hi" after he's done hitting Klah. The way he kept jabbing at her over Jeremiah's death "You hit your quota?" when she tells him "no more killing" (hahahah makes me laugh every time). The way the gun does not impress him at all. Just casually walking up to her. Mostly sure she won't kill him but I think he wouldn't have minded if she had, either. The voice break when he tells her "i know what you did". The expression he makes when he asks "and why wasn't it" after she goes "It should've been me". There's that betrayal. Sadness. Ok maybe also because his dad died. Maybe because they kept it from him. Maybe because she didn't ask *him* to do it.

And then, the very incomprehensible (he is the one that isn't comprehending. but then also he is. this is how it always goes, why would it be different with madison) "i thought you wanted me with you". As he asks he knows already she doesn't. But again, he's trying as much as he can, to get through to her. Until the heartbreaking "I'm tired. I'm so tired." That's probably as close as he gets in asking for help. He did it with Nick too later, in ep 12 ("I need sleep" he told him but he meant rest). He thought he'd die and these people just refuse to get the job done and so he has to live, live with all this loss and he just, he needs a break. So desperately that he says one of the most vulnerable things (so far). "Im so tired." Unfortunately Madison either doesn't hear it, or, more likely, doesn't think she can give in to that (no wonder, he did just attack her after all). And when that fails, this cry for help (in like Troy-speak), he goes. What else is there to do? He'll go and survive because that's what he does.

---

Now, ep 12, I love the confrontation between Jake and Troy (the little convo in between, between Nick and Troy - "murder, you really wanna go there, nick?" "still ricocheting in your skull, nick?" "you tell it best, nick. I don't want to steal your thunder" "don't say sorry to me, say sorry to him". It's lovely, all of it). And then of course the sibling confrontation. Also very lovely. We see Jake finally giving in to what he's wanted to do for a long time, I wager. He has been fed up with Troy since ep 1 (and before that too, I'm sure. Their interactions do tease a history between them).

"I love that sound" - also very much a contender for favorite line. Also gotta admit I thought he'd say something different (and more uh x-rated) when he went "I love that sound some love when a ball hits the fat of a bat, you know" Anyway, just another reminder that Troy loves all things to do with danger and control. (And I don't even think this has to be in the obvious way, where he loves to be in control, though I'm sure he does. But that he also loves the loss of it when in danger. When at the recieving end of a gun (you best believe I've got a story for this, too, 'fool me twice'... I'm sorry, I cannot stop the shameless self promotion....))

Also I just noticed, how he says "It's eviction or extinction" and you know who else got famously uhm evicted. Adam and Eve. So yeah, when he says "this is biblical" to Nick, the night before, to warn him, he really means it like that.

And then the bit between the two brothers. How Jake tries to impress upon Troy he'll really kill him "I'll shoot you brother, I will" and how Troy *doesn't even hesitate* to pull the trigger himself, almost like saying "fucking do it then". Or he is mocking him. Probably both, considering it's Troy. And he was right, wasn't he, to be mocking. Because Jake doesn't kill him (yet). But Troy tries to rile him up further. He almost sounds panicked in a way, but not in fear of his life. Maybe in fear of Jake *not* going through with it after all.

And then their whole rabbit bit, how Troy looks at Jake while he goes "rabbits they, they scream like human beings", that calculating look. How he interrupts Jake with this mocking laugh and a "oh, tell me about the rabbits" Jake is totally ignoring Troy's interruption, going "I still protected him" and Troy telling him "You left me, brother." And then Jake again, insistently "I always protected you!" and Troy isn't saying anything to that but he doesn't look amused anymore. God I wish Nick would've shut up so we'd really get into their grievances between the brothers. But sadly (or maybe not so sadly haha) he wanted to save Troy because he was feeling guilty about killing his dad. And it gave Troy the perfect opportunity to torture Nick about this, also very enjoyable. All in all, a great interaction all around.

Oh and of course the "you thinking of checking out? we could do it together" has me chanting death-wish, death-wish, death-wish hahahaha. I do think he'd have liked it to go together with his brother. It's sweet somehow. In a way it feels like he wants to help his brother on this journey. Like, then his death means something. And then how he licks his lips when Jake gets ready to shoot him. Is it anticipation, fear? Who knows. Would love to ask Daniel about it...

AND ALSO THE TITLE 'Brother's Keeper', that's a biblical phrase “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Cain said to God when God asked him where Abel was (and Cain had killed him). So I wonder, is Jake Cain then? I mean Jake *does* die and Cain, well, famously does not. But then, it's not Troy that kills Jake. It's Nick hitting Jake before Jake can kill Troy. Would Jake have even killed Troy? I'm not sure. I'm just sure that Troy would rather have died himself than seeing Jake die... anyway, "Am I my brother's keeper" I think this question taken at face value is actually Jake's gripe with Troy. That he feels he is made responsible (probably from a young age, given the little glimpse into the past we got via those video tapes) for keeping Troy in check. While, I imagine, Troy doesn't really listen to Jake (and Jake has no real power over Troy so he can reinforce his will), so a thoroughly frustrating experience for Jake, all in all. And yes, maybe this, assembling a horde and leading it to the ranch, would've given him enough motivation to be able to uhm enforce his will. But maybe not. I guess that's me saying, love the title, love also how we get a bit more insight into the brotherly relationship. Though I *so* wish we got into it even more. Like what did Troy mean when he said "Oh, tell me about the rabbits". Sounds like there's a story there (and yes I did try to imagine it in my story 'childhood memories').

This was a lovely ask, I enjoyed answering it. Thank you so much and have a great day 🧡

Also, I hope it's ok to invite people to jump in, if they feel like it, and share their favorite Troy scene. I'm so very curious 👀 gimme, gimme (also don't feel the need to ramble on like I did hahaha, though if you want to, have at it!)

#ask #troy otto #madison clark #jake otto #nick clark #ftwd #let's make this a group activity #your all time favorite troy otto scene #go

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