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#like I think I’m doing the thing again where I find the level you can coast at and get by
whentherewerebicycles · 5 months
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trying to resist the thing where you feel bad about X and then your brain is like hey why don’t you try feeling bad about Y and Z too while you’re down there in the pit
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danielnelsen · 7 months
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finally playing the sword & shield dlc (yes i’m a little late to the party lmao) and woooow crown tundra is so much more enjoyable than isle of armour
#maybe it’s just because i’m stuck in the stage of leveling kubfoo and the only other thing to do in the meantime is the diglett quest#hey you know what would be fun for the players? spotting a dozen sight variations on the ground in a sandstorm!!!#also the dynamax lair thing in crown tundra?????? VERY FUN and basically just free legendaries#they just tell you where to find giratina and you do 4 fights and don’t have to worry about catch rates??#tbf i did lose again kyurem but then you can just retry at any time and it doesn’t cost you ANYTHING#i also really like the fact that they give you pokemon to choose. takes a lot of the stress out of it for me#ANYWAY so it’s rough having to choose legendary forms#i wanna go with the darker type for everything all the time lmao#like i’m gonna get the ghost horsie. but i’m still trying to decide for urshifu#i think i might actually go with water. but dark is cool 😭😭😭#tbf i can just use a different switch profile to get the other one and then transfer it but it’s not the same yknow. only one is my choice#anyway idk. i’m having fun. i played for like 8 hrs straight yesterday OOPS#trying to work out the regi puzzles tho….regirock was very obviously an everstone but i’ll have to think abt the others#(NO SPOILERS IM DOING IT MYSELF)#and then i have to choose electric vs dragon right? fml#i’ll probably go electric because my strongest pokemon are more dragons#but i know regieleki is the competitive choice and more ppl take it so i feel bad for regidrago lmaooooo#whatever that’s a choice for later. the only choice i have to make right now is where to plant my carrots and im going with ghost for that#IM GOING GHOST GUYS#personal
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byoldervine · 1 month
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Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)
1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out
Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on
2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page
RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable
3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it
Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them
4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt
Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else
5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference
Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on
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darkbluekies · 1 month
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OMG SILAS WEDDING? YES PLZ THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD
Saying 'I do' is like a death sentence
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Yandere!mafia OC x reader
Sumamry: Silas gets you to marry him
Warnings: threats, mentions of murder, guns, forced marriage, dubcon kiss?, violence, mentions of punishment, trauma from said punishments, possessiveness, jealousy, family drama
Word count: 3.5k
Things have been awfully quiet these last days and you've noticed a certain spark in Silas’s eyes. You didn't think much of it before seeing his second in command — whose eyes are normally dead — light up. But no one has talked to you.
You’re sitting in the window, looking out over the front yard and the houses down the street. You’ve seen school children come home from school and their parents join them with grocery bags. They’re living so … normally.
There's a knock on the door, which makes you even more confused. Silas doesn't knock on his own bedroom door. His second in command walks in.
“Y/N, you're going to come with me”, he says.
“Why?” you question.
“You will see. Come.”
You hesitate. Silas has told you countless times to never listen to any of his men, never walk somewhere with them. The only one you should listen to is Silas, the only one you should ever walk somewhere with is Silas. He has tested you before to see if you would leave the house with any of his members … and you’ve been greatly punished for it.
But Silas’s trusts his second in command … you know that he would never betray Silas.
“You don’t need to be afraid”, the second in command says and waves at you to come over.
“I don’t want to be punished …”, you whisper.
He takes a step forward. You press yourself closer to the window. It’s another trap, you’re certain of it. Silas is standing outside the room, waiting for you to take the bait. This is the final level, to see if you would listen to the man he trusts the most, one that you think that you can listen to. You shake your head quickly.
“Y/N, you can trust me”, his second in command says and puts his hand on his chest. “I swear on my mother’s life that I won’t get you into trouble.”
“Has Silas told you to get me?” you question carefully.
“Yes.”
Slowly, you get down from the window and walk over to him. He puts his hand on your back to guide you out of the room, into the corridor and down the stairs. Your heart is beating loudly against your ribs. What if the second in command is lying?
“Where is he?” you ask as you make your way down to the first floor.
“I am taking you to him”, the second in command says calmly.
You stop and turn to him. “Please promise me that this isn’t a test, and that I’m not going to get punished.”
“Y/N, I’m not lying to you. Silas have asked me personally to drive you to him.”
“Why?”
“You will find out once we get there.”
“Okay …”
You follow him out to a car. He holds the backseat door open and lets you jump in.
“Put on a seatbelt or else Silas will kill me”, he tells you.
You pull the seatbelt over your body and clicks it into place while the second in command walks around the car to sit down in the driver’s seat. You watch the houses as you drive by.
“I really thought that this was going to be one of those tests …”, you admitted hesitantly while scratching your nails. “I really don’t want to go down to the basement again.”
“I understand that.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Depends.”
“Don’t you ever feel bad for … what happens in the basement? To any of the people unfortunate to end down there?”
“Not necessarily. Most of the people that gets thrown down there has done something to deserve it. You see, Y/N, Silas never hurts anyone without a reason. If he could have it his way he wouldn’t hurt anyone, but people are stupid enough to cross and challenge him.”
“What would he do without it? Isn’t that how you’re supposed to survive and climb the ladder in this world?”
“He would do his business and trading without hurting anyone. In a perfect world, people pay on time and doesn’t try to steal territory. No human likes hurting anyone else — unless they’re psychopaths, but that’s rare. Even the most gruesome killers have guilt.”
“But how can he hurt someone he loves? I could never do what he does to someone I love.”
“I won’t meddle in your relationship, because that’s not my business, but things aren’t black and white.”
“I wish things could be colorful for once.”
The second in command sighs and turns on the radio. You listen to the music as the landscape outside the car swishes by. You don’t recognise anything, except for a supermarket chain that you used to shop at. Soon, you start to think that the silence between you two feels sickening. You can’t stop thinking about what awaits you once the car stops.
“I know that you’re not allowed to actually conversate with me, but can we just … talk about anything?” you sigh and shrug while trying to find a suitable conversation topic. “Could be about the weather.”
“The weather?” the second in command scoffs and smiles in amusement. “Fuck no.”
“How far is it left?”
“Around fifteen minutes.”
“You don't talk much normally, don't you?”
“I talk when I have important things to say. Otherwise, why should I? I get paid to act, not to talk.”
“I don’t get paid at all.”
The second in command tugs at his smile. “You still have it better than the majority of us.”
When the car finally stops, you look around to see that you’re by the beach. The second in command opens the door for you and helps you out. You look around and feel your heart sink when you see where Silas is, and what’s surrounding him. Candles and flower petals. You stop right in your tracks as you go stone cold. You’ve feared for this day.
“What are you stopping for?” the second in command asks and gives you a small push. “Come on.”
You notice a gun in his hands. On stiff, frozen legs you stumble towards Silas. The sand feels heavy under your feet. Silas smiles and takes your hand.
“I think you can guess what I’m going to do”, he says cheekily and takes up a small, black box out his pocket.
You shake your head, but Silas doesn’t seem to notice — or care. He gets down on one knee. You try to pull your hand out of his grip, but he tightens it.
“I don’t think words can explain the amount of love I feel for you”, he starts.
It’s not love. It simply can’t be.
“I know that I want to spend my entire life with you”, he says, looking up at you in awe.
“N-No … wait-”
He opens the box. “Will you marry me?”
You can’t breathe. You know that if you answer no, you might get to taste the gun in the second in command’s hands and you’ll definitely end up in the basement. But you can’t answer yes. If you do, you will be bound to Silas for all eternity. You will have to wear a ring claimed by him, take his name, officially be his. You will be known as his husband/wife forever.
“Y/N, I think that you better want to answer ‘yes’”, he whispers warningly, “for your own sake.”
You hesitate, going through every possible scenario. Every scenario where you decline him ends in physical and mental pain — not only to you, but probably to your family as well. If you accept his proposal, you will trap yourself deeper into his spider web and get tortured for the rest of your life, but you won’t piss him off. You can’t win, no matter what you choose.
“Okay …”, you whisper in defeat. “I will.”
Silas’s face lights up. He shoots up from his knee, wraps his muscular arms around you and devours your lips with his. He pulls your hand to him and places a ring on your finger. The ring is made of a shimmering gold and multiple glistening diamonds. You can’t help but stare at it.
“Congratulations, boss”, his second in command smiles. “You’re going to have a marvelous wedding.”
“Let’s go to a restaurant to celebrate this”, Silas smiles and start to walk with you in his arms. He gives his second in command a tap on the shoulder. “You too.”
The man smiles and follows.
You eat at his favorite restaurant, but you can’t seem to swallow any of the food. A lump has formed in the back of your mouth, preventing anything from passing it. Silas conversates with his second in command, only noticing your sulking after finishing his own food.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, touching your cheek. “Are you not hungry?”
You shake your head.
“That’s okay”, Silas says softly and caresses your shoulder. “Do you want to take it in a togo-bag?”
You nod.
That evening when you get back home, you’re allowed to sit at Silas’s place at the end of the long rectangular table in the dining room with your heated food. You can hear Silas’s men move through the house. Silas and his second in command are in his office to plan the wedding.
You notice that someone is about to sit down on the first chair of the long side of the table. A man you have never spoken to before.
“Hi, care if I keep you company?” he asks.
Too shocked to answer, he takes your silence as ‘yes’ and sits down. You glance at the open door towards the hall and swallow thickly.
“You shouldn’t-”, you try to tell him, to warn him about Silas, but he cuts you off.
“I heard that you got engaged today”, the man says slowly and looks down at your ring. “I guess that I have to say ‘congratulations’.”
“Yeah … thanks …”, you mumble dreadfully. “But you really should-”
Your sentence is cut off by the man in the chair getting ripped up by a harsh force. You hadn’t heard Silas and his second in command leave the office.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Silas questions and pushes the man away from you. “Do you have a death wish?!”
He signals for his second in command to get rid of the man. Silas sighs heavily, runs his hand through his black hair and sinks down on the same chair he had ripped his worker from. You avoid his eyes.
“Are you okay, little thing?” he asks and you can hear how he’s trying to stay calm. “Why didn’t you tell him to walk the fuck away?”
“I tried”, you mumble. “Twice.”
“He knows better than to talk to you. Seems like you’re even more irresistible now that you have a ring on your finger.” He sighs and rubs your back. “You’re mine, and soon they all will know.”
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Days go by. Silas’s second in command takes you to try dresses/suits, but for the most of the time you’re in your bedroom, waiting. Every day takes you closer to your wedding day, that horrifying moment.
And finally, one day, it’s time. Silas’s second in command has taken you to a venue where you’ve gotten your own room to get ready in, but when the time is due for you to walk out and say your vowels, you refuse to come out of the room. There’s nothing you want less than to get married in front of people that you hate. You can’t imagine anything more humiliating.
“Y/N, come on”, the second in command says as he opens the door. “Everyone is waiting!”
“I don’t want to do it!” you burst out, full on panic.
“Silas have spent a lot of time and thought about this for you. He has even invited your family. Would be a shame if they came here for nothing, don’t you think? Don’t you think that they want to see you again? Don’t you want to see them one last time?”
You give the second in command a glare. He walks over and grabs your arm, helping you up on your feet.
“Come on”, he says. “We don’t have all day.”
He’s going to walk you down the aisle to deliver you over to Silas, as planned and try to pull your arm away from the second in command, but his grip on you tightens. The second you get into the venue and see the rows of chairs filled with Silas’s men, his family and your family, you stop, eyes tearing up when seeing your parents. Realization hits you again. You’re not only getting married, you’re also saying goodbye to your old life — a life that you will never get to live again. The second in command drags you past all the guests, over to Silas. You stare at your family, taking them in. Haven’t they changed since last you’ve seen them? Aren’t they looking older? Do they think that you’re different? Do they still recognize you as their little boy/girl? Silently wishing that they would stand up and object to everything happening, you continue your way down the aisle, towards Silas. Surely they have to understand that you’re not doing this by your own will? You would rather be at home with them.
You feel how the second in command moves you over to Silas. The ceremony seem to go by in a fuzzy daze. Words are being said but you're not sure who says them. You're brought back to reality when you hear Silas say ‘I do’. Your first instinct is to pull yourself away from him, but he doesn't let you.
“Your turn, Y/N”, he whispers with a tilted smile. “Tell everyone how you're giving yourself to me.”
Time seems to have stopped. You look out over the audience, at your poor family. They look nauseous. You wonder what kind of threats they have been told to keep them silent in their seats.
And you notice someone else — someone you never thought Silas would invite. Ares. You know that he hates his little brother with all his might, why would he invite him to his wedding? The day that's supposed to be his best day ever. You guess that the older couple by him are Silas's and Ares's parents. You have never met them before, but it's clear who Silas’s has gotten his face from. He's a spitting image of his father. Ares resembles their mother more.
Silas opens up his blazer to show you a gun, which you don't have to doubt is loaded.
“If you — or anyone — tries to object in this marriage, Y/N”, he starts with a dark voice, dangerously close to your face to make sure that no one will hear, “they'll die. Do you understand that?”
You nod unnoticeably, too mortified to do anything else. You understand him very well, and you believe him.
“You better say ‘I do’”, he whispers, voice even darker. “You belong to me. You are mine. Do not ever forget that.”
“Promise me that they won't get hurt”, you whisper as quietly as you can.
He takes your hand.
“I promise”, he says and kisses your knuckles harshly. “Say it.”
You clear your throat to make sure everyone will hear you, so that you don't have to repeat yourself. Giving yourself to this man once is enough.
“I do”, you say.
Everyone but your family and Ares claps. You're puzzled by the look on Silas's parents faces, as if they're not happy but still want to support their son. The rest of the cheering guests wear bright smiles, happy for their boss. You don't dare look at your family.
A new, bigger and more flashy ring gets placed on your finger and you put Silas’s new ring on his with shaking hands. You try to pull the collar of your clothing to the side, to be able to breathe.
You've kissed Silas’s before, but never like this. Never in front of so many people. You don't have time to think before his lips are on yours and you accept it, knowing that you've already signed your life away, refusing to kiss him won't change a thing.
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The afterparty goes on without you. You don’t want to see everyone celebrating you when you never want this in the first place. You are allowed to go back to the room where you had gotten ready and sit in your solitude. You can’t help the tears running down your cheeks in silence. What have you done? Could you have done something differently? No, you couldn't. If you did, your family would get hurt. Instead, you’ve trapped yourself in a venomous spider’s trap.
You hear the door open and hurry to wipe your tears.
“Uh … hi”, a familiar voice says.
You turn to watch Ares close the door behind him. You freeze. If Silas finds him here, your wedding will be even worse … and frankly, after everything Ares have done to you, you don’t want to be alone with him either. You stand up and try to leave the room, but he stops you.
“Wait, let me talk to you”, he says.
“Don’t touch me”, you hiss.
He pulls his hand back and sighs.
“It shouldn’t be you and Silas”, he says in defeat. “You didn’t want to marry him, I saw that. We can run away now and you’ll never have to see him again.”
The proposition alone makes you scoff.
“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” you spit angrily. “You’re as sick as Silas! I don’t want anything to do with any of you. It’s bad enough that I’m stuck with one … I don’t need the other. Leave.”
Ares twitches his black eyebrows and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright then. Guess I’ll have to force you with me.”
“If you touch me I will scream.”
He gives you a glance as if he’s weighing the outcomes. In a quick motion, he grabs you, trying to pull you over his shoulder. You scream and hit him, causing enough commotion for the door to swing open and for Ares to be ripped off of you. Your vision is blocked by someone dressed in black.
“Get the fuck away before I kill you”, you hear the man in front of you say. “I mean it.”
You expected it to be Silas, but it’s his second in command.
“Touch my boss’ wife/husband again and I’m breaking your neck”, he warns and rolls up his sleeve.
“Why don’t you get the fuck away and let me do what I want to do, hm?” Ares responds harshly.
“You’re really asking for it, aren’t you? This is a wedding, don’t be stupid like usual, Ares.”
“I’m stupid? Have you seen my brother?!”
“Leave, Ares. I don’t want to cause your parents any more pain.”
“What’s going on?”
Silas’s voice makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come out again.
“What have you done, Ares?” Silas asks coldly.
“You’re just going to assume that I’ve done something, huh?” Ares growls.
“Why would my man waste time talking with you unless you’ve done something completely idiotic?”
“I heard Y/N scream and found Ares trying to kidnap them”, the second in command says and reaches back a hand to make sure that you’re still there, or to console you.
Silas turns his face towards his brother, his black eyes burning with anger. Before Ares has time to defend himself or throw an insult, Silas has hit him. Hard. You watch how blood seeps from his nose.
“Don’t think that you can ever try to take them from me”, he warns. “They’re mine. See the ring on their finger? Belong to me. I have all the legal rights to say that now. Don’t fucking think a thing.”
Silas puts his arm around your shoulders.
“The only one that gets to touch them is me, so put your greasy little hands away before I cut them off and force you to eat them”, Silas warns him coldly. He turns to his second in command. “Let’s go home, I don’t want to sabotage the after party.”
You’re pulled along out to Silas’s car.
“I should have known that this wedding would have drama”, the second in command sighs. “Why did you even invite Ares from the start?”
“Because I wanted him to see Y/N giving themself to me”, Silas smirks. “To annoy him.”
“You’re supposed to be older than him.”
“Oh shut up, let me have some fun.” He turns to you, growing softer. “Are you okay, little thing? Did he hurt you?”
You shake your head. If anything, you hurt him when clawing at him.
“Good”, Silas smiles and caresses your cheek. “Let’s go home.”
In the car, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring with a cocky smile.
“Now you're officially mine”, he whispered, looking at you with intense, dark eyes. “Forever. And there's nothing you can do to separate us.”
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weird-and-unwell · 3 months
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“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.
I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.
At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.
I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.
I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.
I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.
I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.
Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.
I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.
"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.
Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.
But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.
I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.
Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.
And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.
But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.
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terastalungrad · 2 months
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Sometimes, you’re a comedian with a touring show to promote, so you do an interview with a regional newspaper.
I think that’d be the funniest possible time to reveal a big scoop, wouldn’t it?
Stewart Lee is currently touring, and to promote his Yeovil performance, gave an interview to Blackmore Vale Magazine.  According to Wikipedia, the Blackmore Vale is an area of north Dorset, south Somerset and southwest Wiltshire.  According to the comedian Jake Baker, the magazine would cover his school sports day as he grew up in Dorset.  That’s the level of news you’d expect.
The questions are friendly and easy, from a journalist clearly familiar with Lee’s work and history.
The first question is about the show’s angle.  Lee describes the nature of the show, and here’s an excerpt:
So it looks like stand-up, and sounds like stand-up, but it’s actually a kind of character piece about a desperate person who’s frightened and trying to organise the world in a way that puts them in control. And I guess you could argue that’s what a lot of stand-ups are doing anyway. Ricky Gervais to me looks like a very frightened man. He’s frightened of transgender people coming after him, the act is a defensive wall.
Fun!  This is a Ricky Gervais hate blog, so it’s nice to see a sudden, unexpected attack in an unrelated promotional interview.
Lee mentions Gervais again in response to question four.
Sometimes I become bitter and think ‘I get all this good press, why can’t I get 10 million quid for a TV special like Ricky Gervais?’ But on the other hand, I wouldn’t want that audience, it wouldn’t allow me to be better.
And then again to question eight, where Lee explains why he spends six months running new shows in the relatively small Leicester Square Theatre (as opposed to arena comics who might do 10 warmup shows followed by 60 tour dates).
You can still run it like a club gig, you can interact with people in real time. Also, you wouldn’t get better at the show because you wouldn’t have done it as many times. You can see this with an act like Gervais. Those shows have not been run in, they’re not fluid, they’re a succession of inflexible statements that would snap like twigs if the pressure of an unforeseen event was applied to them.
The journalist finally addresses this head on.  It really is worth reading the entire article - there’s a lot more than I’m quoting, including an interesting story about Sean Lock:
But here are my favourite bits:
[Gervais] still kind of copies me though, which is the weird thing. There’s still a lot of cadences of what I do but they’re used in the service of evil. In Star Wars, he’s Darth Vader and he’s taken the force, which is me, and used it for evil purposes. He was a fanboy, he was actually the booker at University of London and used to book me and Sean Lock all the time. And when he became famous for the Office, he wrote an hour-long act that was so indebted to us it was awkward. [...] If he’d come up through the circuit that would have been rubbed off him because you find your own voice doing club gigs. It took me two years of gigging five nights a week to come through the mesh of things I liked. But he didn’t have that experience in the same way. [...] Funnily enough, in his first show there were bits I’d never recorded that he’d do almost verbatim. He’d clearly remembered them. I went to see him at the Bloomsbury – on his invitation actually – with my then girlfriend and she was very concerned for me. I’d given up at that point due to lack of interest, and she was concerned for what it felt like to see my act being done to hundreds of people, it was quite weird. On the other hand, that sort of did make me think I don’t want it to be consumed into someone else’s vocabulary. And also, I think because he had a residual sense of guilt, he would always credit me in interviews as being an influence – that helped me in 2004 to get the audience back.
This is, to my knowledge, the first time Lee’s ever claimed that Gervais stole his material.  He’s certainly talked about Gervais clearly taking influence from him (though in the past, he downplayed this compared to the account given in this interview).
It’s a pretty big thing to accuse a comic of stealing material.  That’s a big taboo.  I reckon this is partly because Lee wants to discourage fans of Gervais from coming to the show.
Anyway, let’s finish by quoting the end of the interview:
It must be strange to have that level of financial remuneration and those audience figures but not really a single good review. And I expect what that does for you is create a cognitive dissonance where you have to manufacture a worldview by which the whole world is wrong and you’re right. Which can’t necessarily be very good for your mental health, although I expect the money’s nice.
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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Hellooo!!! I have a Spencer Reid request, but feel free to ignore it if you're not up for it hahaha! I was thinking about BAU!Reader and maybe her and Spencer starting to mimic each other because they've been together for a while and spend so much time together? Like the way they talk, etc! I think it could be so so cute, especially if they don't realize they're doing it and the team noticing it for them? Thank you so much, I love everything that you write 🤍
Thanks gorgeous!
cw: discussion of tongue preservation methods? sorry in advance
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 560 words
You gaze lovingly at your boyfriend as he goes into detail about how to preserve severed tongues. 
“So the fact that this unsub is purchasing equipment actually shows a lack of medical expertise, since he seems to be going overboard with preservation measures.” Spencer’s nodding as he talks, a tiny scrunch between his brows. “It’s pretty silly actually. It’s probably only a matter of time until he figures out he just needs to keep them on ice.” 
Rossi’s eyebrows raise, and Morgan chuckles quietly. 
Spencer blinks, eyes refocusing as he comes out of his brain and back into the conference room. “What?”
“Did you just say the unsub was silly?” Prentiss asks, and his eyebrows refurrow. 
“Did I?” 
“Let’s stay on task.” Hotch is all business. “If he were as inexperienced as that would suggest, he probably wouldn’t make clean cuts. This skill level indicates some level of expertise.” 
“Well, actually, I’m not sure it would necessarily be medical expertise,” you say, cringing at your own knowledge. “The process he’s using doesn’t sound dissimilar to how I think they preserve cow tongues. Maybe he’s preparing them to eat.” 
You’re doing your best not to squirm, and Spencer can likely tell, placing a slender hand on your leg under the table. “That’s a good point,” he says, “he could have experience as a chef or in the meatpacking business.” 
Prentiss frowns. “Yeah, but how many chefs know how to preserve tongues?” 
“Maybe we could start by looking into restaurants that serve those kinds of delicacies,” JJ suggests. 
“Good.” Hotch closes his binder, standing. “Garcia, you get started on that and we’ll touch base with you from Atlanta. Wheels up in two hours.” 
“Yes sir.” Garcia looks a bit green—you sympathize—as she hurries out of the conference room. 
Morgan’s giving you one of his knowing looks, collecting his things extra slow, until finally you sigh. “What?” 
“Well, actually,” he mimics, lips curving into a grin. “You and pretty boy must be getting serious if you’re taking on his signature phrase.” 
You roll your eyes, but Spencer smiles, looping his crossbody bag over his head. “Actually, language style matching is only one form of mirroring. If you’re paying attention, people who spend a lot of time together can mirror each other down to their breathing rhythms or how many times they blink within a minute.” 
You look at him interestedly. “So what does that mean? Just that we’re spending too much time together?” 
The look Spencer gives you threatens to liquefy you with its softness. “There’s never too much time.” 
Morgan’s laughter is hooting, and you want to find that as cheesy as he does, you really do, but the place within yourself where you usually reach for sarcasm has gone mushy and useless. You rearrange some things in your bag unnecessarily, head down to hide your blush.
“Wow,” Morgan sighs happily, “I don’t know which one of you is more whipped.” 
This would normally be your opportunity to think of a retort, but luckily you don’t have to. JJ pops back into the room, looking frowny. 
“We just got a call from Atlanta. The unsub killed again overnight.” 
Spencer grows serious. “He’s accelerating?” 
“Yup.” She nods. “Hotch wants us there now, so it’s wheels up in twenty.” 
You and Spencer nod in tandem. “Sick.”
Morgan’s eyes roll straight up to the ceiling.
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greenglowinspooks · 2 months
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(DCXDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 5)
Tw: torture scene (GiW agent receiving), general angst, canon-typical violence (DC), nobody is having a good time
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Masterlist/subscription post)
It was pretty easy for Danny to forget that Dr. Crane was a rogue at times.
Most of the time he wasn’t comically evil, like what he’d expect of a Gotham rogue. He was helping Danny, even if only because he didn’t want to be taken in by the GiW as well. He was even downright nice most of the time, or at least neutral.
Sure, he had a strange obsession with fear and psychology, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Danny. It didn’t feel like living with a rogue, just like…staying with a distant relative, or something.
He seemed like just an ordinary person.
Today, though, Danny was brought back to reality.
The GiW agent they’d tracked down together writhed on the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Scarecrow was sat a few feet away, setting up a syringe of the antidote he’d made.
After a few more moments, he injected the man with the antidote, watching him like a hawk the entire time.
Suddenly, the man surged forward, lunging at Scarecrow with a feral scream.
Unluckily for him, though, he was still weak from the fear toxin in his system, and from the beatings he’d received prior. Scarecrow easily wrestled him to the ground, settling himself on the broad part of the agent’s back with a vice grip on one of his arms.
“Let’s try again,” he said sharply, all of the warmth Danny had grown used to gone from his voice. “Where is the GiW base of operations?”
The agent took several shuddering breaths before spitting at Scarecrow, defiance and hatred written all over his face.
For just a moment, the room was utterly silent.
“Fine, have it your way.”
Scarecrow began to twist the man’s arm further. It wasn’t long before the agent began to squirm, then writhe, beneath him. Danny’s stomach churned.
“You know,” Scarecrow began, almost conversationally, “there are plenty of jobs that one can get without the use of their legs, especially with the level of education you have. Anything that doesn’t involve hard labor, really.”
The man’s face was beginning to turn red in his struggle not to scream. He took in gasping breaths, the way that his mouth moved almost reminding Danny of a goldfish.
(He felt awful for the comparison, but it was true.)
“However,” Scarecrow continued, “I find you’d be rather hard-pressed to find a job without the use of your arms. Especially in a place like Gotham, where you can always be replaced by someone eager to do your job for even less money. Of course, you could most likely coast off of savings and severance pay for a while, but…”
He leaned closer to the man’s head, his voice lowering.
“Would you be able to live like that? To live with yourself, if you no longer have a purpose?”
He allowed the agent a few seconds of rest before increasing the pressure on his arm. The agent gasped, letting out a strangled hiss. His arm bones were making fascinating noises in response to the strain. Danny felt sick.
“You seem like a rather driven young man. I’m sure your family would hate to see you unmotivated, directionless. Would they resent you, do you think?”
“Fuck you, you—”
The man was cut off by his own scream as Scarecrow finally allowed his arm to break, audibly splintering into thousands of useless shards of bone.
He had the exact pressure memorized. Clearly, he had done this before.
This was wrong. This was wrong.
Shouldn’t Danny step in, do something?
“That won’t heal cleanly. Even with the best medical care in the world, you’ll end up with permanent damage.”
The man below him wheezed and sobbed, choking on air as Scarecrow let go of his arm carelessly, letting it flop back onto the ground.
“Just the sort of thing something like you deserves,” Scarecrow hissed, his voice cold.
“You tortured a child, and you enjoyed it. You laughed with your friends about it. In your notes, one of your friends complained about the screaming,” Scarecrow brought his leg around, grinding his boot into the man’s broken arm. He howled in agony, writhing uncontrollably.
“Was it inconvenient to him, do you think? Too loud? If you were joking about it, clearly you thought so, too. I could fix that as well.”
He drew out another needle, this one once again filled with fear toxin.
“Scarecrow, wait,” Danny choked out.
Scarecrow turned to look at him.
Even his posture was different than usual. He looked… stiff, more like an animal than a man. When he tilted his head at Danny in a silent question, it looked like something in his neck had snapped, his head lolling to the side.
Danny wondered if he was consciously moving like that, or if it was habit at this point.
“You—we don’t have to do this. We can get information some other way, right? You don’t have to…”
Danny looked down at the GiW agent below Scarecrow. He didn’t even have it in him to glare up at Danny like he had before. Instead he laid limply on the ground, tremors rolling through his body uncontrollably.
“We’ve exhausted every other option and you know it,” Scarecrow said, his voice low, “this is the only way we can move forward.”
“Still, I—I don’t,” Danny swallowed, his throat tight, “this isn’t—this isn’t right. Isn’t there some other way to do this? Like—a truth serum, or something?”
“Truth serums are notoriously unreliable. They’re almost as bad as lie detectors. We’re much more likely to get a reliable result from this.”
Danny just stared at the GiW agent and his splintered, ruined arm. He began to weakly wriggle in Scarecrow’s grasp, which was graciously ignored.
He vaguely remembered himself doing the same thing when he was on the operating table; even if he knew there was no chance of escape, he still thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away. The jagged I-shaped incision on his torso felt uncomfortably warm.
What was there left to say?
“The Bat does the same thing at times, you know,” Scarecrow said, “him and the rest of his brood. By using my toxin, I’m actually lessening the amount of permanent damage that I’m doing. Physically.”
“Still, that doesn’t make it right,” Danny said desperately. “Even if—even if everyone in the world did this, it wouldn’t make it right.”
Scarecrow hummed.
They were both silent for a moment.
His next words were gentle, absurdly so when compared to the scene in front of him.
“I would love an alternative. But…”
He shrugged, hand coming to rest on the break in the GiW agent’s arm. Even without applying any pressure, the man stopped squirming immediately.
“There aren’t any other options,” Danny repeated, his voice flat and his body numb.
“Yes,” Scarecrow said. “I’m sorry.”
There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. Eventually Scarecrow spoke again, his voice strangely empty.
“You can stand outside and keep watch, if you’d like. At such a short distance their radars won’t pick us up.”
Danny said nothing, leaving the room silently.
He sat outside for quite a while.
He was grateful that Scarecrow had, with his help, dragged the agent to one of his previous hideouts. It was soundproofed, after all.
He was glad that he didn’t have to hear the rest of what Scarecrow did to the man.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crane left the building, joining him outside. He guided Danny back to his beat up old truck and they drove home in silence.
“Did you at least…do you know where they are, now?” Danny asked as they entered the apartment, his voice small.
“They didn’t share the details of all of their locations with any one person. I know where one of their locations are, but not their main base of operations.”
Danny felt disgusted. With himself, with Dr. Crane, with the GiW.
He was disgusted by the agent, too. Did he just hate the restless dead so much that he would prefer to be tortured than to give them the upper hand? Did he really think he was in the right?
Was there a chance that he was?
Danny felt very, very small, and very stupid. Stupid and weak and cowardly.
“Danny,” Dr. Crane spoke, his voice soft.
“I’m truly sorry that this is happening to you. I really, truly wish that you didn’t have to endure my company. I…”
He fell quiet. Danny wondered if he was just saying this to pacify him, or if he truly meant it. He wondered if it really mattered in the end.
After a few moments of silence, Dr. Crane sighed, looking truly pained.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Danny was quiet.
“I’m going to bed early,” he finally said, turning away and leaving without a second glance.
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tragedybunny · 8 months
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Sated - Astarion x F!Reader
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Astarion has gone too long without blood and you're determined to make sure he's fed.
Astarion tries, but not everyday is a good day, and some days he’s still snappish and lashes out. The rest of your group has learned not to take it personally, in fact now that Karlach can touch people, she’s developed a nice trick of just suddenly hugging him when he’s a pain. Usually either indignant silence or grumbling compliance follows. “Behave yourself Fangs, or I’ll do it again,” the Tiefling grins at him during whatever fussing he spouts after. He’s grown fond of her, you can tell, even if he can’t yet. In a way he’s fond of them all, but Karlach’s open, kind nature has given them a bit of a sibling-like bond. Watching them interact always brings a smile to you, he needs more of that in his life, people who care for him genuinely. 
Today was not the best, but you shrug it off as concern overrides all else. He’s a little paler than usual and a little slower. There wasn't much out there among the shadow curse for him to feed off. Before you never had to question how much blood he needed to survive or where it would come from. But as you leave the formerly cursed land behind, you can tell he’s struggling. And yet, he hasn’t asked you about it. The one he’s supposed to trust more than anyone else. You’ve fed him plenty of times before, you would think he’d have come to you by now. Mentally, you scold yourself as you feel creeping insecurity. There has to be a reason for it, and now isn’t the time for selfish suspicion. 
That night, as everyone settles themselves around a fire, contemplating what the road to Baldur's Gate holds, you find him seated at the edge of the flickering light, as far away as he can get without being in the shadows. Could he be worried he might find himself tempted if he’s too close to everyone? This can’t continue, you tell yourself, not only for the sake of his suffering, but you can’t be sure he wouldn’t be tempted either. 
Grabbing a blanket from your shared tent, you take a seat beside him, wrapping it around both of you. “You feeling alright Starry Sky?” Gently, you wrap an arm around him, and feel the icy chill of his skin beneath his shirt. Not that his skin is ever all that warm, but this another level. 
“Just tired,” he smiles weakly at you. 
“And freezing,” your other hand reaches up to stroke his cheek lightly. 
Eyes closed, he leans into your touch. “You know, I don’t even really feel it. I’m not sure if I need to be warm at all.” 
“Hmm, even if you can’t feel it, you know why you’re freezing.” Leaning over you whisper to him, some things aren’t meant to include the others. “You’re hungry.”
“Perhaps a little, but I’m fine. I don't need you to start fussing over me constantly. There's an owlbear cub if you feel overtly maternal." The sharp words don't change the dark circles under his eyes, or how gaunt his cheeks look. 
"You're ridiculously obstinate, you know that right," a gentle kiss on his temple follows your words, so he knows you're not actually being cross with him. You’ve come to realize he can’t stand it when he thinks you’re mad at him. In the past, anger meant reprisal, punishment, and in the context of the two of you, punishment could only mean withdrawing your affection. At least that’s where his thoughts lead.  
"It is one of my better qualities," he leans over, head resting against your chest. 
Shifting, you position yourself so he's seated between your legs, easier to let him rest his weight on you. "I don't know why you don't just ask me. My blood not good enough for your refined palate anymore?" Laughing, you try to mask the actual hurt that's creeping in. The truth is letting him feed from you has always felt like an important part of your relationship, the time when you’re closest to him.
It's been a long journey and a few of your group are already wandering to bed, although you think you hear Shadowheart muttering about saving it for the tent, whatever she said, Gale laughs it off. “Not at all,” he’s uncharacteristically serious, “I just…” he sighs, for once at a loss for words, “it seemed like a lot to ask from you, after everything else.” 
“Everything else?” Lips leave light kisses on the top of his head as you brush your fingers through his hair.
“You know, lying to you, manipulating you, wanting you to still love me after all that. If I asked to feed from you, it would seem like I was trying to use you again.” Catching one of your hands, he kisses it and doesn’t let go. 
For a moment you don’t know how to respond, you’re still not entirely used to seeing the softer, sincere side of him. “I see why you would think that, but I don’t want you to suffer. Let me take care of you, any way I can. That’s what I’m here for. Well, that and teaching you to be less of a stubborn arse it would seem.” 
“Stop, you’re being entirely too sweet to me. It’s going to ruin my reputation around camp.” You let him have his moment of deflection and wait until he makes a frustrated noise. “But I can’t say I don’t want to.” 
“Take what you need love,” you reach up to undo your collar and pull the blanket more securely around the two of you for privacy. A part of you considers moving to the tent, but you’re worried he’d use the opportunity to try to put it off more.
With a soft sigh, his lips press to your neck in a delicate kiss, teeth piercing your skin moments later. Pain and ecstasy course through you as you hold back a sigh. The two of you become one in that instant, bound through blood to the singular beating heart you now share, intimacy unparalleled. While he drinks, you fight to stay lucid enough to whisper to him of love and comfort, reassuring him that needing this from you is no sin. You feel your own warmth traveling into his skin, and you watch it take on a blush of life. 
Before your world turns hazy, he pulls away, licking you clean, and returning his head to your chest, content to be held tightly. "I didn't take too much, did I?"
"No, you were perfectly careful dearest." The words bring a small smile to his lips, praise so new an experience for him, he hardly knows how to handle it. But you know he craves it, especially from you, and it makes you want to lavish it on him. 
The others have vanished, a small part of you worries they noticed and were uncomfortable, but you hope they would understand as your friends. You two should join them soon, Baldur's Gate awaits, with a journey there still ahead. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 
“A few more minutes love,” somehow he manages to snuggle tighter against you, “I did miss this.”
“Me too, don’t wait so long next time. I’m always here for you.” 
“There you go, being too nice to me again, silly girl.” Sitting up a bit he kisses you, fiercely, lips crashing together bruisingly, hands reaching to tangle in your hair, like a first and a last kiss all bound up in one and it leaves you gasping when he’s done. It’s as though he’s trying to express everything he feels in that one kiss. “I might get used to it if you’re not careful.” 
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aajjks · 3 months
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Reward (m)
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synopsis. You lure him in so deep in your embrace that he never wants to leave, no matter what, even if you beg him to leave you.
pairing: yan!married jungkook x prostitute fem!reader
warnings: ïnfèdïlïty, kïssïng, mèntïöns öf mürdèr, crázy jk, yândèrè bêhàvïöúr, mätǔrè thèmès, blóódy knïfè, ünhëälthy bèhávïöür, pröstïtütè yn.
note. it’s about time I start experimenting w my content with a lot more taboo themes, darker ones, maturer but ofc not explicit, this is obviously very dark so viewer discretion is heavily advised and this is purely fictional, do not romanticise this in irl
You guys can send asks for this one too. I think you are gonna like him.
______
Some sane part of Jungkook’s mind keeps on warning him that this is so fucking wrong at so many levels. This is so wrong, he is so bad. But yet he cannot bring himself to feel an ounce of guilt.
He knows it though deep down.
But he can’t help himself, the temptation is far too strong for him to resist, yet it wasn’t like he didn’t try to hold himself back.
He wanted to be faithful, but ever since he has seen you? He doesn’t care. Maybe he just never cared and you helped him realize it.
He has tried, so many fucking times. But he always finds himself coming back for you, to you.
It is crazy that how addicted he has become to you. It is crazy how a one time thing has gotten so far. For the first time he saw you he was here with his friends.
And now he’s gone too far to go back now.
And now he’s here again, looking for the one he desperately wants to see the most right now.
The bartender looks up at him, and he almost sighs in annoyance, but the thing is that this man brings in good money.
So he will be nice. He does want a large tip.
“Sir, Your regular?” Jungkook looked up to see the tall man, not interested in having a drink, but he is so impatient to see you, and maybe having a drink, can help him calm down a little,
So he ends up, asking for the drink.
Alcohol and you help him.
Depression is taking over him, he needs to see you. He’s not sure if he can depend on the alcohol anymore. You are what he needs.
“Where’s Opal?” He clicks his tongue as the bartender passes him his drink, Jungkook grabs the glass and stares at it intensely, his appearance is messy, His hair has gotten longer and curly, all messy like he has been running his hair through it constantly.
His tattooed fingers tap on the glass, his eyes are wild as he glares at the man behind the marble counter, he’s so eager to hear his answer about your whereabouts. Of course he knows you are here, but what if you’re busy with another client?
He’s going to kill the owner if that’s the truth because he told him to not let you see other clients, but him.
anger and desperation are mixed in his bloodshot orbs.
He looks so crazy right now. The bartender is actually scared right now.
“I don’t know.” The man simply replies,, staring at him. He looks concerned but Jungkook doesn’t care. “I’m a bartender not her personal bodyguard.” The hazel eyed man barks and jungkooks grip tightens around the grass
Jungkook clenches his jaw.
How can he talk about you like this.
“Maybe she’s busy tending to some client… I don’t really know, sir.” A wave of jealousy washes over Jungkook like a raging storm, his hand gripping on the fragile thing, abnormally aggressively so.
“2,000$, I need to see her! Please!” Jungkook names his price.
The other man’s eyes go wide at his offer, because this is just absurd, he can’t be serious about giving him $2,000 just so he can see you right now.
But something in his mind is telling him that he’s not lying.
Jungkook stands up suddenly, Jungkook knows he is acting crazy but it has been so fucking long.
You are like everything to him, he was so lonely before you,, his wife didn’t care about him, you did, your company made him happy.
God, he needs you so bad.
“W-Woah! I-I said I don’t know!” Jungkook rolls his eyes and gritts his teeth, his patience is running thin. What a greedy little bastard.
He knows where you are.
The dog just wants some more bone.
“3,000, CALL HER FOR ME!” He slams his hands on the counter, his dark eyes are crazed, the bartender simply gulps.
He needs to stop testing his patience before jungkook actually throws the glass at him.
“O-Okay, come with me.”
Jungkook smirks.
Greedy fucker. But he will do anything for you.
———
He isn’t going to leave you alone after all.
You were actually happy that he hadn’t been visiting you for almost a month and you forgot about him but now you’re getting ready for him.
You sigh as you fix your dress finally putting on the coat and then you swipe on the red lipstick on your lips that he likes so much on you, the Chanel stick in your hand that he brought for you himself, he only likes this color of red on you, and then you will proceed to apply the cherry flavored lip oil on top.
You’re always paying attention to what your clients like particularly this one because he’s really demanding. and the reason why you are not really that excited to see him is because when you’re with him, he’s kind of weird and even when he’s not here he demands that you do not see other people.
You cannot be with other clients he doesn’t like it.
But right now you have to focus your attention on him, the last thing you do is put on the perfume, and then you’re out, making your way to the VIP suite.
your heartbeat is hammering when you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, and then you make your way into the vip suite,
God, he is really back for you.
Your hair blocks your view as you finally enter the large air conditioned room, oh, because he likes it down, he is so particular about the way you dress it’s like you’re his doll he’s the puppeteer.
The dark lighting is not making it easier for you to spot him. You’re kind of annoyed, but you need the money and you know that Jeon Jungkook has what you want.
So It is show time.
“You’re back, mr Jeon?” You purr, walking confidently towards him, taking off your coat as you stalk towards the man, “after so long huh?” You continue. Smirking seductively.
Jungkook is looking at you like a hawk, a huge smile on his face, and soon he gets up and is awfully quick to grab your body as he pulls you into his embrace. His action catches you off guard, but it’s not really anything new.
He’s always this eager.
“Woah, easy there.” You giggle, He doesn’t speak a word as he pulls you into his chest. His expensive perfume is all you can smell right now and you like it because it smells luxurious.
“I-I missed you so much!” He cries as he nuzzles his face into your neck. The sound of him actually sniffing your scent makes you cringe.
He is so weird, but he was hot. No one can actually guess by looking at him that he can be this pathetic for a woman like you, but only if they knew and saw him like this.
He’s a famous man with a serious reputation, but what do you see in this room is a completely different man. So you let him hug you and sniff you, the better you please him the more money he will give you.
In a way, you’re both really desperate, your motives are just really different.
“God… you’re finally near me… I’m so sorry I can’t control myself.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your skin, even though he’s really hot and rich but you feel a little disgusted because he’s a married man and here he is.
You feel bad for his wife.
when he finally breaks the hug you feel a rush of relief.
Now you’ll go straight to business, so you lick your lips, staring at him. He’s undeniably sexy.
“So… what do you want me to do, a lap dance?” You trail your black french tipped nails on his hard chest, your tone is sickly sweet trying to cover the impatience in your voice.
You look at Jungkook with a sultry gaze, He is so fucking sexy and filthy rich too.
You need the money.
“Or… would you like something else? Hmm?” You were careful with your words as you watch his gaze fill with desire, numbing on the meat of your lower lip.
Wow, this is pretty easy.
“I-I want you.”
He stutters as you smirk batting your lashes at him, and that’s enough to make him crash his lips on yours, his kiss is sloppy and almost desperate, swallowing away your breath. His hands quickly grab your waist as he pulls you closer and closer.
His kiss is intense, but you managed to catch up, he is kissing youlike he was dying and you were the last wave of air he needed to survive.
Unlike his shy personality and timid habits around you, he is a filthy good kisser.
wow.
You try to match his pace, running your hands on his body, his hand grabs your ass your hands travel down to his hips too and that’s when you feel something sharp poking on from the back of his pocket.
It’s not a wallet or a phone, it’s pointy, and curvy as you feel it.
Jungkook is so lost in your kiss to not notice your hand sneaking into his pocket at the back of his hip, too lost in the sensation.
You are careful with the movement as you finally take out the thing and wrap your hand around the object.
And that’s when he realizes what you’ve done.
“W-What are you doing?” Jungkook pulls away from your mouth, thankfully for you, you have your hands on the object.
You look into the eyes and now he looks panicked, which is weird because what is it that you’ve pulled out of his pocket? You don’t reply to him as you look at it and,
You feel goosebumps. Immediately backing up from him. And now you’re panicking too because you cannot believe what is in your hands right now.
You are frozen. Way too shocked and scared to speak, but you have to ask him
“W-What is this?!?” Your eyes were wide with fear and shock as you keep on backing away from him, what the fuck did he do?!
And why is here?! Why is he really here?
Tears prickle against your eyes, the stains of blood on the silver knife are scaring the shit out of you. And what is even worse is that they look fresh.
“M-Mr J-Jeon?!?” You stutter, looking up to him. But he’s got this crazed look in his eyes, they’re too bright and sparkly.
“Darling don’t be afraid of me.” He stalks closer as you stepped back, “d-don’t come near me!”
Jungkook clicks his tongue, looking at you like you’re overreacting you’re not overreacting, but he’s not fazed at all. “sweetheart relax… this is my knife… And that’s…” he halts his steps,
For a moment, you think that he’s sensed your fear and you’re uncomfortable around him but soon your bubble is bursted when he cages your trembling body in.
“My wife’s blood on it.” He swipes his tongue on his lower lip. His tone is so normal, like he is having a daily conversation with you.
He has just confessed to killing his wife, and now he’s looking at you like he’s done nothing. You can’t believe him.
You can’t bring yourself to scream for help when he snatches away the knife from you.
“Nice flavour” you have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about but soon he touches his red, stained lips, referring to your cherry flavoured lip oil you had put on your lips, he smirks again, his eyes dark and heavy.
“Now, we can really be together forever, darling!I got rid of her for you so we can be each other’s forever, I got fucking rid of her, FINALLY!” He giggles like a maniac.
Shivers.
What the fuck is he talking about?!
“That hag, oh my God… I hated her guts! I-I love you so much! S-She found out about u-us so I had to kill her b-because she wouldn’t let me be with you!”
You want the earth to swallow you, your mind is frozen from shock, shit, this dude is actually crazy.
“and now you’ll be mine forever yn. This is so perfect. Just like I imagined. Aren’t you proud of me? I think I deserve a reward.”
He travels his hands down to your hips once again.
He is not going to let you go. You are fucked.
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avocado-writing · 3 months
Note
Hey there, if you’re still doing requests for BG3... I'm terribly angry about something big and outside of my control at the moment. Could you let me know what you'd think the BG3 companions do if Tav started self destructing? Like Tav passing harsher judgments, snapping at neutral NPCs, or fighting more dangerously and recklessly with bad guys?
Oooo the angst possibilities! Fun! Going to write like you’re self destructing due to stress, and you’re picking unhealthy coping mechanisms. Here we go:
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Astarion
at first probably thinks that it’s quite funny. We know he enjoys seeing a little bit of suffering.
but, the more it goes on, the more worried you can see him become.
this isn’t like you. He knows you by now. You’re… kinder than this, damn it.
he takes you to the side one day after he’s seen you be short with a friend.
“whats the matter?” “Nothing, Astarion.” “If you’re going to lie to me, darling, you’d better do a better job of it than that.”
you go to snap at him, fire on your tongue, and then something inside you breaks. You just start sobbing. Everything which has been weighing on your mind has finally become too much.
he isn’t good at comforting words, but he does hold you. Runs his hand up and down your back, and lets you know you he’s here for you whenever you’re ready to speak.
helps you centre yourself again, eventually. He loves you. He’ll do what he can to make things better.
Gale
Makes a couple of snide remarks about how you’re acting, suggesting maybe you be a bit kinder, but then he stops to reassess how you’re acting.
there’s something wrong. You’re pent up. Furious, but not with the people you talk to. They just happen to be the ones bearing the brunt of it.
he sees the injuries you nurse on yourself after battles too. You used to be a clever fighter. Now you are a reckless one.
takes you aside one night at camp and presents his findings very matter-of-factly, concluding that there must be something the matter. When he puts it so astutely, you know you have no chance of hiding from him.
tears slip down your face and he is there in an instant drying your eyes. Telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Reassuring you that “the great Gale of Waterdeep is on your side, we’ll find a way to work things out.”
he puffs his chest out, you chuckle and bury your face in the crook of his neck. Yes. You will find a way to work things out.
Wyll
When he first sees you acting out, as it were, he immediately intervenes.
he knows what it’s like to be under great levels of stress. He made his contact when he was a teenager, after all, and had to deal with all the fallout that happened consequently.
he takes you to the side, holds your hand tightly in his, gets you to look at him.
“i love you, you know that, yes? If there’s something the matter, you need only tell me.”
you begin to crack immediately. Damn this sweet man and his emotional intelligence. Why is he perfect.
you let him know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. You agree you’re not coping with it very well. He says he’ll help you however he can, but you need to stop being so unkind to yourself.
“you matter, my love. You deserve sweetness.”
holds you close, and you just stand there for a while, together. From then on whenever something is wrong, he is the first one you go to.
Karlach
Sees you snapping at a friend, jumps in.
“whoa, whoa, whoa! Soldier, where is all this coming from?”
you snap to tell her it’s none of her business, she wouldn’t understand… but then you see the hurt in her eyes and immediately feel awful.
“Oh gods, Karlach, I’m sorry…” your voice is wobbly, cracking a bit, and she cups your face in her warm hands.
“hey, hey. it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”
you blurt out all your feelings to her in one, long, run-on sentence. She can’t help with a lot of the personal stuff, but she can listen, and she holds you to her chest and rocks you a little. Being engulfed by her embrace is very comforting.
”I’ve got you, babe, eh?” You know she does. For better or for worse.
Lae’zel
She sees the vicious way that you’ve been acting in battle. Strange, usually it’s her attempting to take the big hit, not you. She can take it, you can’t.
She finds you when you’re tending to your battle wounds. Sits down. Stares at you until you instigate conversation.
“what?” “You are not acting like yourself.” “Oh? And how would you know what that is?”
you’re just saying these things to be hurtful, but she’s stalwart. You’re deflecting.
She tells you she’s been enamoured with you long enough to see how you usually are. That you’re kinder, smarter. You’re lapsing into these feelings out of some sort of self-preservation, but you don’t need to.
”if there is something weighing on your mind, share it. I am here to help ease your burdens.”
you don’t love to cry in front of her but that is remarkably… sweet. It breaks you a bit.
You promise to stop being so foolhardy, especially in battle. She says that must be for the best, lest you get rended in half.
“Hey!” but she’s smiling. Your heart swells as you realise she’s trying to make you laugh.
Shadowheart
Lets you get quite far down the burrow of self-destruction before she does anything.
once again, she’s loyal to the lady of loss. Nothing you’re doing is exactly alarming to her.
but it does get worse and worse… she sees you snapping at friends, being harsher to passers-by, and she’s constantly having to patch you up after battle due to your wounds.
eventually one day you snap at her, and that’s her limit.
“I know something’s causing you stress but it isn’t me. I’m trying to help. So you can either pull your head out of your arse or I’m leaving this tent.”
the two of you have a little squabble, but it quickly becomes obvious your heart isn’t in it. Your anger turns to sadness. You collapse in tears and she pulls you to her without a second thought, holding you close.
despite her sharran devotion, she starts whispering how things can get better, how they will change. How the first step is letting people in.
her hand wound throbs as she comforts you. But in this moment she knows she’d pick you every time.
things are easier from then on, knowing she is with you.
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calisources · 2 months
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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences and quotes have been taken from different media about starcrossed lovers or forbidden love, full of angst, some bold words, some nasty ones, possessive nature and letting someone use you as a replacement. So, some toxic energy in this one. Change pronouns, locations and names as you see fit.
I love you,and I will love you until I die,and if there's a life after that,I'll love you then.
Do people always fall in love with things they can't have?
And there is a difference between having your heart break and having your soul shatter.
I'm falling in love with you.
I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. I have waited for this for such a long time. Consequences be damned.
These violent delights have violent ends.
 I’m only human. And you are …all-consuming.
Don’t go into this lightly. If you’re mine, you need to understand I will burn the fucking world to the ground for you.
I will never let you go, do you hear me? 
 will keep you safe. And I will find a way for us to be together.
If you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.
If you were any less the man you are, I would beg you to take me with you.
If you were any less the woman you were, I would beg you to come with me.
I've known lust. This is something worse. This is a barbaric need to possess, to eliminate, to own. This is madness.
This is lust.
She’s your very own forbidden fruit.
You said you didn't want this.
We all desire what we cannot have.
Have you noticed how the boy looks at you?
Do you think I didn’t notice? The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching?
You are dangerous desire, and I am your prisoner.
We can’t do this on so many levels.
I can't even whisper her name, my heart would burst out of my chest.
But I would fight against the stars for you.
I have ruined your life.
Some lines you just don't cross. 
I want to take you under the moonlight.
Having something forbidden is exciting, don't you agree?
The closer we get—the more I let you in…the more dangerous this gets.
Don’t you get it? You’re what everyone wants! But I’m not going to let them win.
Make it so I never have to dream about this again—make it so we can have this…forever.
Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.
We were doomed from the start. 
Nothing is as deadly as the love of a powerful man.
But this kiss? It's ruined me. This is the type of kiss I never knew existed. 
You sure about that, Dad? Because he's done everything to me.
Are you scared of me now?
You loved me - then what right had you to leave me?
I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
One moment, you give me everything that I want, and in the next, you snatch all of that away.
It's hopeless. We can never work out.
The world didn’t want us together so I forged a new one where we would.
How could a peacock lust for a lion?
You're tattooed onto my skin, and the more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.
I’ve always liked you, from the first moment I saw you.
It's absurd how crazy love can make you...but even more absurd how stupid jealousy can make you.
 That you and I are meant to be together, but never meant to be.
Why does fate seem always to conspire against us? To deny us life's simple pleasures?
We'll meet after this war. I'll certainly find you wherever you'll hide. 
War makes fools of men and women wanton.
What offends you most, Father? That she's Catholic, or that she's poor?
If my father discovers you here, he'd cut off your little nuts and eat them. He can't stand you.
You tempress, I see you once and all I can think of is having you.
Feelings are forbidden, does not mean we cannot enjoy one another.
The more you deny me, the more I desire you. You are a plague in my mind.
Ever since we met, no one else can compare. 
How can I be with someone else, when I’m with them, it’s you I see.
You can have me, think of whoever you love. For tonight.
You can pretend I'm her/him. I don't care. I just want you.
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waitimcomingtoo · 10 months
Text
You Never Called It What It Was
Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!reader
Synopsis: you and Peter are friends with benefits who never admit your true feelings for each other until Peter gets hurt on a mission
Masterlist
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“What are you working on?”
You smiled when you heard Peters voice behind you but didn’t take your attention off the paper open on your laptop. You liked to play hard to get, and he liked to play until he got you.
“School work. Remember that?” You teased him.
“I remember. I just chose not to do it until it’s absolutely necessary.“ Peter shrugged and put his hands on either of your shoulders. He started to lazily rub his thumbs into your neck and you knew what he was looking for.
“That attitude is why you’re number two in the class.”
“Oh yeah? And who’s number one? Remind me.” Peter asked as he spun your swivel chair around to face him.
“That’d be me.” You smiled coyly. Peter returned the smile before leaning in for a long and slow kiss.
“Are you really gonna spend your Friday night doing homework? Because I can think of a hundred other fun things we could he doing right now.” He said once he pulled away.
“Oh really? Like what?
“Why tell you when I could just show you?” Peter asked before kissing you again. You shut your laptop without breaking the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Your room or mine?” He asked against your lips.
“When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”
“I don’t know. When’s the last time you slept over?”
“Gross.” You laughed. “Meet me in my room in ten.”
You didn’t exactly when your friendship with Peter turned into a little more. Living in the tower together made it inevitable that you’d end up falling for each other, especially after all the late nights you would spend up and talking to the other. It was so routine for you to spend the night in each others rooms that you could hardly remember a time when you didn’t. And despite the fact that you both told yourselves you were content with being friends with benefits, you couldn’t help but want more each time you hooked up.
A few nights later, Peter knocked on your door and pushed it open slightly, finding you in your bed with a book resting on your knees.
“Hey, pretty lady.” He said as he knocked on your doorframe.
“When are you gonna get a real girlfriend and stop bothering me?” You teased him and shut your book.
“When you admit your feels for me and run away together as lovers.” He shrugged, making you smile.
“I’m pretty sure we already are lovers.” You laughed and patted the spot beside you on your bed. Peter wasted no time in sitting next to you and moving hair off your forehead.
“Is that what you call it?” He asked. His tone was playful but his eyes looked genuine. He wanted it know what you were but you didn’t have an answer to give.
“I guess so. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything. But we’re definitely not just coworkers.”
“No. Course not.” Peter said through a laugh but you could tell it hurt him when you said you weren’t dating.
“We’re just…” You trailed off and shrugged.
“Friends?” He asked with a sad smile.
“Yeah. Who are really, really, extra friendly.” You smiled as you leaned in to connect your lips to his. Peter kissed you back and cupped your face to pull you closer to him. He gently laid you down on the bed and shot a web at the door to close and lock it.
“Do you treat any of your other friends like this?” He asked you between kisses.
“No. I save this all for you, P.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I want you all to myself.”
Cue PG-13 rom com level “morning after” shot where they’re tangled in the sheets and a soft song plays while they stare at each other.
“I should probably head back to my room.” Peter said, though that wasn’t what he wanted to do. Your eyes were shut and you were laying on his chest, tightening your grip when he suggested leaving.
“You don’t have to. If you’re tired, just go to sleep.” You said without opening your eyes. Peter looked down at you to see if you were serious but you were hardly awake.
“Do you want me to stay?” He asked quietly.
“I don’t care.” You said through a yawn and held him tighter. Peter didn’t said anything and you got the feeling he wasn’t sure what he should do. You opened one eye and checked on him and sure enough, he looked as conflicted as ever.
“Yes. I do. I want you to stay.” You admitted. You felt Peter relax and lay his head back back on the pillow. He slipped an arm around you and held you close while resting his cheek on your head.
“Thanks. I wanted to stay.” He said softly.
“Shh. Go to sleep.”
“Okay. Goodnight.” He said and you could tell he was smiling.
“Goodnight, P.”
After a day where Peter didn’t see or hear from you, he was pleasantly surprised to see you in his doorway once the sun had set.
“Hey.” You smiled and waved to him.
“Hey. Come here.” He sat up and motioned you to come closer. You smiled and went to his bed to crawl into his lap. You straddled his hips by sliding your legs under his propped up arms and kissed him hello before settling into his arms.
“Missed you. I haven’t seen you all day.” He playfully whined as he toyed with your hair.
“I know. I was at the beach with my friends.”
“Was it fun?”
“Yeah. It was weird though.”
“Weird? Why?”
“When I was with them, I kept turning to my left thinking you were there.” You laughed shyly as you sat up to look at him. Peter scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“What?” Peter laughed too. “Did you forget I didn’t go?”
“No.” You shrugged. “I just found myself missing you. I wanted you to be there.”
Peter couldn’t hide the blush that painted his face when he heard that you missed him. He missed you all the time when you weren’t around, so it was nice to hear the feeling was being reciprocated.
“You can invite me next time. Then you won’t have to miss me.” Peter said with a shy smile.
“You wouldn’t want to hang out with my friends.” You laughed and shook your head.
“Yes I would. If you like them, I’d probably like them too. They’re an extension of you and I…like you.” He stumbled over his words and squeezed his eyes shut when he realized what he had said.
“Maybe I will invite you then. They’ve been dying to meet you.”
“So you talk about me to them, huh?” He smiled cheekily.
“Of course I do. I tell them about everything that’s ever happened to me.” You said causally. Peters smile faltered a little and you realized you accidentally made it seem like Peter was just another little meaningless detail of your life.
“Plus, they’re all jealous that I’m living with the guy I’m sleeping with and therefore get some every single night.” You added, making him smile again. But this smile was different. It was sadder this time.
“Is that what you refer to me as around them? The guy you’re sleeping with?” He joked but felt disappointed.
“No. I call you Peter.” You said simply.
“Oh. Good. That’s better.” Peter relaxed again and drummed his fingertips on your waistband.
“Why? What do you call me?” You wondered.
“I never know what to call you. I usually just end up referring to you as my girl.” Peter shyly admitted.
“I don’t hate that.” You shrugged, making Peter smile hopefully.
“You don’t?”
“No. I actually think it’s cute. It’s not as constricting as “girlfriend” but still lets people know I hold a special place.” You said and cupped his face just to get a better look at his. His hair was messy and his face was flushed
“Well, good.” Peter blushed under your touch. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll keep calling you that, then.”
“Good.” You felt your face heat up too as you looked at him. His expression changed from playful to serious as he tilted his chin up to kiss you. He kissed you long and slow, just because he wanted to kiss you. He didn’t expect anything from you tonight. He just wanted to be around you.
“Do you want to watch a movie? I was just gonna put on Grown Ups 2.” He said once he pulled away.
“But I’ve never seen the first one.” You said as you laughed at his choice of movie.
“You don’t need to.” He waved his hand. “All you need to know is that they’re grown ups and this is the second time they’ve done that.”
“Sounds perfect.” You laughed again and slid off his lap so that you could lay beside him in the bed. You snuggled into his side while he played the movie on his laptop.
You woke up the next morning in Peters arms. That wasn’t unusual for you, but something felt different about this particular morning. You sat up and rubbed your tired eyes before looking at his floor. The string of discarded clothing that usual dawned his floor the night after you slept over wasn’t there since all of your clothes were still on. You looked down at Peter and felt a sinking feeling in your chest. He stirred awake and slowly opened his eyes just as you were coming to terms with it all.
“Hey. Good morning.” Peter said through a yawn while he rubbed your back.
“We didn’t hook up last night.” You said, mostly to yourself.
“Yeah, no. We just watched the movie and fell asleep.” Peter shrugged and tried to pull you back down to cuddle. You pulled away from him and quickly got out of the bed.
“I should go. I didn’t mean to sleep over. Sorry.” You said as you backed up towards his door.
“I don’t care.” Peter laughed like it was silly. “You can sleep over whenever you want. You know that.”
“I know. But we’ve never just had a sleepover before.” You said and held yourself tightly. Peter could sense that you were freaking out about something so he got out the bed and put his hands on your shoulders.
“Hey, it’s okay. It doesn’t mean anything.” He assured you. You relaxed when Peter said that, which broke his heart. It did mean something to him, a lot actually. But you seemed like you didn’t want it to mean anything, so he pretended he felt the same.
The next day, you walked into the kitchen where the rest of the team was and went straight to where Peter was sitting. You’d relaxed about the night before and tried not to think about it anymore. You put your feet into his lap and stole a piece of toast off his plate while the other Avengers watched you.
“So are you guys dating now or what?” Tony asked casually as he popped a grape in his mouth.
“What? No.” You answered immediately. Peters head snapped to you when he heard how quick you answered and felt his heart sink.
“Yeah. No.” Peter nodded his head without taking his eyes off you. Tony gave Peter a look that said he didn’t believe Peter for a second.
“Really? Because I’m not sure if you know the definition of dating or not, but you’re following it exactly.” Tony said sarcastically.
“It’s just sex.” You shrugged, making Peter feel even worse.
“Is it? Because I’ve seen you doing plenty of non-sexual romantic activities together.” Natasha added in.
“So what? That doesn’t mean we’re dating. It comes with the package of being friends with benefits.” You replied all too quickly for Peters liking.
“I never really understood the whole “with benefits” things. If you like someone’s company enough to consider them a friend and also trust them with your body and desire them in a non-platonic way, why not just date? What’s the point of you two sleeping together every night and cuddling on the couch if you’re not gonna admit you’re in a relationship?” Pepper added in her thoughts.
“Because we’re not in a relationship.” You said definitively. “We’re friends who like to get a little extra friendly. That doesn’t mean I want to be anybody’s girlfriend.”
“Your generation is so weird. You literally are his girlfriend. Why can’t you just call it what it is?” Tony asked you.
“Because we’re not dating.” You laughed in annoyance. “And I don’t want to be dating. I just want to hook up. It’s really just that simple.”
“Yeah. It’s simple. It’s not complicated or confusing at all.” Peter added. He’d been silent for so long that you had forgotten he was there. You felt bad for getting so defensive without thinking of how it would make him feel.
“I don’t believe it. There is no way you two are doing what you’re doing and not catching feelings. You’re either lying to us right now, lying to each other, or lying to yourselves.” Tony replied. Peter looked at you to see how you felt about that, and you didn’t like it at all.
“This conversation is stupid. I’m disengaging.” You said as you got up and left the kitchen.
“It’s okay to want love.” Tony called after you.
“Disengaged.” You shouted back. Once you were gone, everyone looked at Peter tinder his reaction. It was very obvious to the room that he felt the exact opposite to what you said.
“I’m in love with-“ Peter began.
“We know.” They all said in unison.
That night, you were determined to put some space between you and Peter. So when he came and found you on the balcony, you kept your plan at the front of your mind and prepared to say no to any and all of his advances.
“Hey.” He said as he sat beside you.
“Hey.” You said without looking up from your laptop.
“Do you want to watch Grown Ups 1 and make out during the scary parts?”
“I’m not really in the mood tonight. Sorry, P.” You replied, already feeling guilty for how cold you were being.
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s all good.” Peter assured you. “Do you want to hang out at least?”
“I’m kinda busy tonight. Maybe some other time?” You asked and finally looked at him.
“Then can I just sit here and watch?” He asked in a soft voice as he sat on the edge of the desk.
“Watch me do homework?”
“I just want to be in your company.” He shrugged. You gulped and had to look away or else you’d cave in to those big brown eyes of his.
“Why?” You played dumb.
“I don’t know. Because I like to be around you.” He shrugged and felt his face heat up. You knew he was expecting the girl who said she missed him when he wasn’t around, but you couldn’t be that girl anymore. You had to set some boundaries before you ended up in a relationship.
“Actually, I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’ve done enough work today.” You said and shut your laptop.
“Oh. Okay. Yeah. I’m tired too. I’ll walk you to your room.” Peter said and followed you to your room. You turned to face him once you were in your doorway and felt a new sense of awkwardness between you.
“Well, goodnight.” You said and did finger guns at him.
“Goodnight.” He said and slipped an arm around your waist. He kissed your cheek and you felt yourself tear up at the kind gesture. He was being so good to you and you were being so cold. He turned to leave and you felt your heart following him out the door.
“Peter, wait.”
“Yes?” He stopped immediately and came back.
“Did you want to sleep here?” You asked and pointed to your bed over your shoulder.
“No. That’s okay. I can tell you want to be alone.” Peter said with no self pity in his voice. He was just reading your cues and for some reason, that made you feel even worse.
“And I can tell you don’t want to be. You can stay. We can be alone together.”
“Okay.” Peter smiled and went into your room. He climbed into your bed and you got in after him. You held him and let him be the little spoon to make up for being mean to him. It didn’t take long for Peter to fall asleep but you didn’t have the same luck. Your mind was racing with too many thoughts as you tried to figure out how your plan to put some distance between you and Peter ended up with him in your arms. The more you thought about why you couldn’t just reject him like he was any other boy, the more the answer became clear.
“Oh fuck.” You whispered. “I love him.”
Now that you knew you had fallen for Peter, you had to end things. You couldn’t keep sleeping with him now that you knew you wanted more. So when Peter woke up the next morning, you were already gone. He frowned in confusion and went into the kitchen to find you.
“Has anyone seen Y/n?” Peter asked the team.
“Your girlfriend is off on a run.” Tony said without looking up from his magazine.
“Without me?” Peter wondered out loud and walked out of the room. He walked back in a few seconds later with his finger in the air.
“And she’s not my-“
“We know.” Tony groaned and waved Peter away.
Peter hung around in the foyer until finally, you came through the door. You gave him a quick smile and went to walk past him without saying anything.
“Hey. I was looking for you.” Peter said as he put his hand on your stomach to physically stop you. He looked so different now that you knew you were in love with him. Someone you once considered your best friend now felt impossible to talk to.
“You found me. Bye.” You quickly dismissed yourself but Peter caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back.
“Wait. I didn’t expect you to be gone this morning when I woke up.” He said quietly so no one could overhear.
“I had to leave early. I wanted to run to clear my head.”
“You should’ve woken me up. I would’ve come with you.” Peter told you. You folded your lips into a tight line and he immediately read your mind.
“Unless you wanted to clear your head of me.” He realized as he added up all your recent behavior.
“Look, Peter, it’s nothing personal.” You sighed. “I’ve been thinking about it for a minute and last night confirmed it for me. I don’t I want to hook up with you anymore.”
“Oh.” Peter blinked a few times in shock. “Okay. Woah. Um, did I do something wrong?”
“No. I just think we should start seeing other people. I think it will be good for the both of us to branch out.” You lied. You couldn’t tell him how you really felt, so you had to bury your feelinsg under a bunch of lies.
“You want to see other guys?” He asked, sounded heartbroken at the thought.
“Maybe not right away. But I think you and I should go back to being just friends.”
“Are you sure I didn’t do anything? If I said something stupid in my sleep last night that offended you or something I’m really sorry. I get weird dreams if I eat too late.”
“It’s not that. It’s not anything. I just don’t want to hook up with you anymore.” You shrugged and struggled to maintain eye contact with him knowing you were lying through your teeth and hurting him in the process.
“Is that all we were doing?” He asked, making you freeze. That was never all you were doing. It was just all you would admit to.
“Yes.” You said after a long beat of silence. Peter stared at you for a long time to give you a chance to take that back and admit you meant more to each other then just a fling. But you didn’t have the courage to do it, so he just ended up disappointed.
“Okay. If that’s your decision-“
“It is.” You said quickly, wanting to leave before you started to cry.
“Okay.” He nodded and gave you a tight smile. He put his hand on your arm as if he was going to lean in and kiss you, but then settled for a soft punch on the arm instead. He walked away from you and you felt your heart shatter.
You were all called in on mission the next day that required you to take the jet. You got there first and bounced your leg as you waited for Peter. He didn’t come by your room the night before which you expected, but still felt disappointed over. Peter finally walked on to the jet and looked around for an empty seat. There was one right next to you, which you patted to let him know he could sit there. He looked at it for a second before going to sit somewhere else. You blinked a few times in confusion before getting up to go sit next to him.
“There was a spot next to me.” You whispered to him as everyone else buckled up.
“I know.” He said without looking at you. You stared at him for a while and tried to read his face but he was turned away.
“We always sit next to each other.” You said quietly.
“I guess I just don’t want to do that anymore. I want to sit next to other people.”” He replied. You knew he was referencing what you had said to him about seeing other people and sighed.
“I thought we were going to being normal.” You whispered. Peter looked down at his lap for a minute before looking at you.
“I don’t know if I can just switch back to being normal.”
“Why not? It was just-“
“I know.” He cut you off. “Just sex. Just a fling. Just a meaningless hook up that ended once I left your bed. Trust me. I know how you feel.”
“P-“
“I gotta go.” Peter got up again and went to go sit somewhere else. You looked up and could see Tony looking at you with a displeased look. You sighed and shrunk down in your seat, not talking to anyone else as the jet took off. You couldn’t even accuse Peter of being a baby over you not wanting to sleep together anymore because you knew it wasn’t about that. It was about you acting like your relationship wasn’t what it was.
The mission went smoothly from your part and you completed your jobs with ease. You circled back to find the rest of the team but when you got there, you found everyone but Peter.
“Where’s Peter?” You asked. Everyone avoided eye contact with you and a pit grew in your stomach.
“Where’s Peter?” You asked again and pushed on the person closest to you.
“He’s in the next room.” Steve answered you without looking in your eyes. You pushed past everyone and ran onto the next room to go find him. When you got inside, you found Peter on the floor in a pool of blood. Tony was using his suit to try and repair a hole in Peters side.
“What happened?” You asked as you dropped to your knees at Peters side.
“Who me? Oh, nothing. I’m fine.” Peter smiled weakly waved his hand.
“Fine? You have a bullet hole in your side.” You exclaimed and took his hand to let him know you were there.
“It’s okay. It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Peter lied before coughing up some blood. Everyone piled into the room to see Peter and you could hear them winced and murmuring at the sight of him. He was bleeding out quickly and Tony’s nanite spray wasn’t enough to stop it.
“We need to get him to the jet.” You said to Tony, who was looking at Peter in despair.
“The jet? We need to get him to the morgue.” Sam mumbled. You grabbed a random rock and threw it at him.
“Shut up!” You screamed as panicked tears fell down your face.
“I was just kidding. Damn. She threw a rock at me.” Sam mumbled and kicked the rock.
“He’s really hurt. We have to get him to the jet.” You said and went to scoop Peter up.
“This is gonna hurt.” Tony warned him.
“A little or a lottle?” Peter winced.
“Lottle, kid.” Tony said apologetically.
“Oh. Joy.” Peter groaned as you picked him up. You ran with him onto the jet. You laid him down on the table while Tony got out the medical supplies on hand.
“I don’t have any Novocain. Can you distract him while I fix this?” Tony whispered to you and held up the needle he had to use to stitch Peter up.
“Distract him how?” You asked.
“I don’t know. He’s your guy. Talk to him.” Tony hissed at you and gave you a stern look. You backed down and nodded your head to show him you understood that it was time to grow up. Peter was your guy and it was time to admit that. You slipped your hand into his again and knelt down to be close to his face.
“It’s okay. I know you don’t want to talk to me.” Peter smiled while tears slipped down his face.
“Yes I do. I always want to talk to you.”
“But you haven’t lately. I didn’t think you wanted to be friends anymore.”
“Peter-“
“It’s okay.” He assured you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to be my friend. I just miss you. Thanks for holding my hand.”
“I need to tell you something, P.” You sighed and brushed the hair off his face. Peter was struggling to fight the pain of being stitched up but still gave you his full attention.
“I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. And I’m sorry I never explained why and just let you think you did something wrong. The truth is, I pushed you away because I was scared that our relationship was turning into more than just friends with benefits. I didn’t know how to handle the fact that this wasn’t just a fling anymore.”
“You never called it what it was.” Peter croaked out. “When the team was saying you were my girlfriend, you seemed angry that anyone could ever think that.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I just got defensive because I was still trying to repress my feelings. I’m sorry I said all those things. I didn’t mean them.”
“What did you mean?” Peter asked quietly. Everyone was leaning in to listen but you pretended not to notice. You looked up at Tony and he nodded to tell you the time was now. You nodded back before looked down at Peter again.
“I love hooking up with you but I also love talking to you and hearing your opinions on things and the way you interpreted a song lyric or a movie scene. I love showing you shows I love and waiting to see which parts you find funny so I can laugh too. I love seeing your reaction to my stories and hearing about your day, even when you didn’t do anything exciting. I listening to the music you had in your iPod as a little kid and hearing what songs you could never forget the lyrics to, even if you tried. And if I love all those things, I guess I just love you. I freaked out when I realized that and thought if I stayed away from you, those feelings would go away. But they didn’t. I love you still.“ You told him. Everyone exchanged looks but held their tongues as your confession was heard through the jet. Peter broke into a smile that sent pain through his entire body.
“Normally this would be the part where I heroically kiss you and everyone claps, but I’m numb below my neck and about to pass out. So can you kiss me?“ Peter requested, making you smile until you saw the blood streaming from his lip and nose.
“You’re like…bleeding out of your nose and mouth.” You said with a smile so he didn’t know you were grossed out.
“Can you do it anyway? Please?” Peter asked and coughed up some more blood. You couldn’t say no to those eyes so you bent down and kissed him for a long time. When you pulled away, you gagged at the taste of blood in your mouth and Peter grimaced at the sight of his blood on your face.
“That’s gross. You were right. We should’ve waited.” Peter laughed and started coughing again.
“We’ll try it again when you’re cleaned up.” You assured him.
“Good.” He smiled. “But I’m gonna pass out now. I’ll see you when you wake up.”
Peter did in fact see you when he woke up. You had all made it back on the jet and rushed Peter to extensive care. By the time he woke up, he was healing nicely and all cleaned up. More importantly, you were right there in the doorway watching the doctor dress his wound. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you, then saw the doctor. He was about to ask him to leave to give you and him some privacy to talk about what you had said on the jet, but you beat him to it. You touched the doctors arm as you sat down on Peters hospital bed and held his hand.
“Excuse us, doc.” You smiled politely. “Thank you so much for the help. But I need a minute alone with my boyfriend.”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor
@tom-hollands-wifey @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker
@every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​
@fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow
@thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe
@kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland
@yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx
@heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey
2K notes · View notes
togrowoldinv · 6 months
Text
To Show Thanks
Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Wanda does all of the cooking for Thanksgiving and you help her see just how thankful you are for her
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, bathtub sex (W receiving), soft sex
Note: The most wonderful time of year indeed. Enjoy the milf!
Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist
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The house smells of turkey and the holiday season as Wanda stands by the stove. She’s been cooking since the crack of dawn, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
You’ve helped with a few things, but mostly it’s been Wanda who is putting in the work. The twins run around the house and play as they wait for the company to arrive.
“No! I’m running out of time!” Wanda’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.
“It’s only 5, baby. You still have about an hour until the guests arrive,” you say.
“That’s not long enough,” she says, a sigh falling from her perfect lips. They form into a pout as she observes the work she has ahead of her.
“Well, you could use your magic,” you say.
Wanda smiles but shakes her head.
“No magic today. Just me,” she says.
“You are magic no matter what, my love,” you tell her.
You stand up from your chair and hug Wanda from behind. She sinks into your touch. Dropping a kiss to her cheek, you make her feel relaxed even if for just a moment.
“Tell you what,” you begin. “I’ll get the rowdy boys to set the table and I’ll help you do anything you need. We can do this.”
“We can do this,” Wanda repeats though she’s not sure she believes it.
You kiss her cheek once more for good measure and then you go find the boys. They’re in their room playing Mario Kart.
“Hey guys,” you say. “How about we pause the game and go help Mom get ready for the guests?”
“Okay!” Billy answers easily. He’d do anything for his mom.
“Can we finish this level?” Tommy asks.
“Later, buddy,” you say.
“Okay,” he says, a slight sigh in his voice. He pouts like Wanda does.
“I have a super secret task for the two of you,” you tell them before you leave the bedroom.
“What is it?” Tommy asks.
“Today is Thanksgiving, which means that you tell people that you’re thankful for them. I got your mom a card and I was thinking you two could write a sweet note in it for her. What do you think?”
“Yes!” They both agree. Anything for Wanda.
You smile and lead them to the home office where they work on the card. You leave them to go back and help Wanda. Once they’re done, they come downstairs and set the table.
Wanda was right about timing being close, but you manage to have everything cooked and ready to serve at exactly 6 o’clock.
“We did it!” Wanda says excitedly.
“You did it, babe. All you,” you say.
Wanda smiles softly and places a soft kiss to your lips. The boys feign disgust. Soon, the doorbell rings.
She answers the door and lets guests inside one by one. Steve is first with Natasha, Maria, Tony, Sam, and Bucky not far behind. You remember meeting them all at the boys birthday party, but it’s so nice to see them again.
Everyone gathers around the table and begins to eat Wanda’s wonderful food.
“This is amazing, Wanda,” Steve compliments.
“Yeah, great job, Wanda. Reminds me of home,” Sam says.
Wanda smiles shyly and tries to share the credit.
“No, this is all her. I can cook, but not like this. She’s like professional level good,” you say. Everyone nods in agreement.
“So, how’s everything going?” Maria asks Wanda.
You know what she’s referring to. After Wanda and Vision split up, the woman has gone through a hard time with the divorce and now child custody hearings. You’ve been the bright spot in all of it.
“It’s good,” Wanda says. “I didn’t know going to court would be so expensive but it’s almost over.”
“I’d sue his ass for what he’s put you through,” Natasha jumps in. Maria nudges her shoulder but she only shrugs.
You shoot her a smile and she returns a smirk.
“How about we just talk about what we’re thankful for?” Steve, ever the peacemaker, tries to change the subject.
“Great idea,” you agree. “I’ll go first. I’m thankful for Wanda and her wonderful children and friends.”
Wanda smiles and kisses your cheek at your words. You hold her hand under the table. You’ve become her everything over these last few months.
Wanda speaks next. “I’m thankful for friends who have become family, for my precious babies, and for y/n who is truly my best friend.”
Everyone goes around and continues to share what they’re thankful for. Love and laughter fills the air as the hours pass by. After dessert and socializing, the guests go home.
Wanda is in the kitchen running a sink of dishes when you stop her.
“Come with me,” you say, pulling her softly.
“But the dishes, baby. They won’t do themselves,” she tries.
You keep walking and lead Wanda to the living room. The boys are there with Wanda’s card in hand.
“We got you this, Mommy,” Billy says, handing her the card.
“Oh, thank you, baby,” Wanda says. She sits between the two boys. She opens the card and tears fill her eyes.
“We all signed it to say we’re thankful for you,” Tommy explains.
“Wow,” Wanda says softly. “This is so sweet. I’m so thankful for you guys too.”
Wanda kisses them both on the forehead as they lean into her. She reaches out to you too and you join the snuggle pile.
“Can we finish our level before bedtime?” Tommy asks after a moment.
“Yeah go ahead boys. Mom and I will be up to tuck you in soon,” you tell them. They hug you both before running up the stairs.
Wanda tries to get up but you pull her gently back onto the couch. She lands on your lap and you grin at her.
“Thank you for the card,” Wanda says.
“That was from the boys,” you say.
“Mhm. I know you were the mastermind,” she says. “I should really clean up dinner.”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean nope?” Wanda asks.
“You, my dear, did all the cooking so I will do all of the cleaning,” you say. “I’ll pour you some wine and you just get to relax, okay?”
You don’t give her a chance to say no. Instead, you kiss her and get up to start cleaning. Wanda sits at the counter and watches you. After a bit, you tuck the boys into bed and finish up cleaning.
“How about a bath?” You ask Wanda, leaning over the counter in a way you know draws her eyes to your chest.
“Only if you’ll join me,” she replies, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Yes please,” you say.
You go to the bathroom together and run the water. Wanda slips off her clothes first and slides into the warm water. You join her and settle in behind her.
She rests her head on your shoulder as you softly run your hands over her body.
“Thank you for today,” Wanda says.
“You did the hard part.”
“No, I mean- you didn’t have to clean up or give me a card or anything,” Wanda explains.
“Oh,” you say. “I just thought you’d like it.”
“I did. I loved it,” Wanda rushes to say. “It’s just- no one’s ever done that for me before. It’s new.”
“You deserve it, Wands. Everything doesn’t have to fall on you. And you deserve to hear how thankful we all are for you,” you say.
“Hmm,” Wanda hums. She turns her head to look into your eyes. “I really love you.”
“I really love you too, Wanda Maximoff.”
She leans up and kisses you. You deepen the kiss and let your hand slip between her legs. Wanda gasps at the feeling.
“Just relax, baby. I’ll take care of you,” you say.
She lets herself relax against you as you move your fingers through her folds. Wanda lets out the sweetest sounds with every stroke. You slip fully into her easily and make quick work of getting her to her high.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go,” you say softly as she comes against your fingers.
Wanda’s eyes remain closed in pleasure as you simply hold her against you. She stays there until the water gets too cold and you have to get out.
You get dressed in warm pajamas and snuggle into bed next to each other. Wanda clings to you.
“I’m so thankful for you,” Wanda says as her eyes droop closed from exhaustion and relaxation.
“I’m thankful for you too, Wanda. I always will be,” you tell her.
With one more shared kiss, you two fall into a deep slumber that lasts until morning.
Wanda has never been so happy and that’s all thanks to you.
905 notes · View notes
hunnylagoon · 4 months
Text
Right Where You Left Me
Pt 2: Jailbird
Ellie Williams x reader
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I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.
Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.
Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues
Part one here!
Part three here!
Part four here!
I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.
Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.
Fuck her.
I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.
She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.
"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."
My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"
"Why would-
"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.
"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."
"Fuck off."
"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."
"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."
"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."
"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.
"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving'  or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."
"Please, stop."
"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-
"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.
She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-
"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.
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I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.
You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.
I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.
My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.
Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.
I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"
His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."
"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.
"Hear ye, hear ye-
My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"
"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."
I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.
I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.
Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.
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My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.
Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.
I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.
"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."
Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.
Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."
"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.
"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."
My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."
"Or catholic," My mother adds.
I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.
"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.
"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.
Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."
Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."
My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.
"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.
"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."
My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."
Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."
Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.
He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."
"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.
While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.
"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.
I don't respond, I don't know how.
My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."
Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.
"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."
My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.
"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."
"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.
"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"
"no-
"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."
"Dad, I'm not sick-
"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"
"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.
"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.
"What?"
"You heard me, get out."
"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-
"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."
"Please, dad-
"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"
"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.
My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.
My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.
From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.
"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.
The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.
"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.
My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.
"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"
"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."
"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.
My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."
"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"
"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.
"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"
I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.
I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.
"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.
"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.
"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.
"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."
"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.
I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.
Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.
With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.
I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.
"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.
"Like for real?"
He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.
After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."
My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.
Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.
The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.
By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"
My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."
Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.
He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.
The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."
"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."
"It's just that-
"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."
I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"
"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."
Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"
Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."
"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.
"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.
"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."
Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."
"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.
He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"
"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"
"Of course I did."
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"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."
"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.
Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.
The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.
The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.
The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.
"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.
"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.
"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.
All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."
I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.
"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."
I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.
I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.
"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.
"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.
"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."
Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."
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Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.
Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.
I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.
D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK
Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁
Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!
Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!
Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!
Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me
Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!
566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.
Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.
Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place
Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍
Naomi: I'm so sorry
Naomi: I didn't think that would happen
Naomi: I didn't know what to do
Naomi: I love you
Aaron: U good?
Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything
Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that
Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad
Elijah: Hope you're safe
Elijah: Call me when you can
Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.
Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"
"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.
"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.
"I'm fine here, thanks."
"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.
I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."
Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."
"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.
"Please take the bed."
I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"
"That's not why-
"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."
Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.
"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."
"What?"
"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."
I'm not doing well.
I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.
"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"
'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."
"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.
I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.
TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo
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kaciidubs · 6 months
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Binnie's Baby Bun
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❣ Summary: Ever since you announced your pregnancy to your husband, his loving treatment skyrocketed to lengths you never believed were possible. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 797 ❣ Warnings: Husband! Changbin, Pregnant! Reader, pregnancy [early stages], fluff, light implied smut, baby bumps, overall cuteness ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Changbin is referred to as Hubby, Bin, and Binnie, Reader is referred to as Bun, and Bunny ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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Ever since you announced your pregnancy to your husband, his loving treatment skyrocketed to lengths you never believed were possible.
Changbin was a lover, he was a supporter, he was a protector, but he was also the softest, kindest, and most careful man you had ever met, and those were just a few of the traits that convinced you that he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
The days after you revealed your pregnancy, he treated you like you were a goddess walking among men; you would’ve thought he was your living servant the way he offered to do everything - and I mean everything - for you.
Not like he didn’t do it already, that is.
The first handful of weeks were met with extra kisses here and there, extra check-ins so he could have a clearer gauge on your comfort, and small things like extra snacks finding their way into your pantry.
But, when your stomach slowly began to grow and the first hints of your baby bump began to show, Binnie mode was in full swing.
Almost every morning you were guaranteed a kiss on the lips, cheek, or forehead, and an extra kiss to the small swell of your belly, paired with a whispered “Good morning, baby.”
Whenever you were together he would always, always, manage to keep a hand on your stomach - if you allowed him, of course - and if he couldn’t keep you close by, he’d always make sure to take a quick ‘baby bump break’ to saddle up beside you and rest the palm of his hand over your belly button.
“Bin, if you’re like this when I’m barely showing, I can only imagine how you’ll be when I'm in full watermelon mode.”
You sat partially sprawled out on the couch of his recording studio, the pillow you were previously laying on now replaced with Changbin’s lap, and his arm reaching down your body to rest his hand over the top of your stomach.
He laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, “That’s why you have to get used to how I am now, Bun! I know baby bun will.”
“Baby bun?” You hummed, tilting your head to get a better look at him, “So you’re hoping for a girl?”
He shook his head, “Baby bun is just baby bun - girl, boy, I don’t care, as long as they’re healthy and you’re healthy that’s all that matters to me.”
Fresh tears stung at your eyes and you had to fight to push them away, blaming the increased hormones in your body for your sudden sensitivity to his sentiments.
“Alright, break time’s over!” Announcing his leave with his usual loud voice, he helped you get comfortable again before bending down to your eye-level, “Another hour or two and I’ll be done, then we can go get some dinner, deal?”
Smiling, you nodded happily, “Baby bun and I think that’s a great deal.”
Furthermore, in the midst of all of his soft, adoring moments, there were also moments of warm, tender love that had you overwhelmed in the best of ways.
Moments where he would watch you do your nightly routine; silently observing the way his shirt would ride up with each of your movements, revealing a sliver of the bump he would never get enough of, urging him to stand behind you and snake his arms around your waist.
You smiled tiredly at his reflection in the mirror, rubbing the remaining moisturizer onto your cheeks, “Hi, hubby.”
“Hi, bunny,” he replied in kind, pressing a soft kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder.
Melting into his touch with a gentle sigh, you tilted your head to give him more access, your hands going to encompass his own resting yet again over your bump. “Binnie… What are you up to?”
His arms held you a bit tighter, his lips making a path up your neck and brushing against a spot he knew all too well, “Just appreciating you…”
“Hm, yeah, I can tell.” You shifted your hips, fully aware of the bulge filling his boxer briefs, “You appreciate me that much, yeah?”
Nipping at your skin, his eyes met yours in the mirror, his heard gaze sending a chill of excitement down your spine.
“Can I appreciate you more?”
“Right now?” You mused, lacing your fingers through his, “Right here?”
A low hum vibrated through him as he took you in, the scenario so familiar yet so, so different in numerous ways; you were no longer his girlfriend, no longer his fiancee, no longer just his wife, but his wife and soon-to-be mother of his child.
“Right now,” he confirmed, firm and sure, loving and supportive, soft and kind, “right here.”
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