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delicrieux · 3 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted.��“What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

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harrysgloves · 3 years

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Fine Line (Chapter 9)

>>>Catch up with the Fine Line Masterlist!

word count:

story summary: Since you were kids you and Harry had always walked that fine line of friends or something more. Now, pregnant by someone else, you find yourself staying with your long time best friend after things go sour with your boyfriend of 3 years.

Singlemom!Reader x Harry Styles

chapter summary: You and Harry revisit an old childhood game.

warnings: Language // cuddling // mutual pining but they're both dumb af // no editing

a/n: Apparently, I do still write... amazing right?? Anyway, posting this from mobile so it might be a bit weird formatting and I couldn't post the word count tonight. Sorry about that guys. Hope you enjoy anyways!

As always, likes and reblogs make my little heart sing and comments make me almost faint. So, gimme that love.

>>><<<

You settled into Harry's couch for yet another night alone. The light from Judd Nelson's match he had managed to ignite with the back of his teeth lit up the television. The

luminescent bulbs dimly casted tints of blue and white lights across Harry's living room. Your eyes glued to the movie you'd seen a million times before as you curled in tighter into the soft blankets.

Harry had been busy the last few days and while you tried your best to not bitch about it, you were lonely. Gemma and Abby had their own lives thousands of miles away from you. Jesse had still not answered you back. Your mother couldn't carry on a conversation with you for more than 10 minutes without forgetting who you were. Besides work, you really had no one to hangout with and even your coworkers didn't see you outside the office.

The only glimmer of a social life you had was your unborn child that you talked to constantly and Mr. Stranger-who-hits-on-people-at-the-doctor's-office. Since your child couldn't talk back to you yet, Matt was quickly becoming your life line to a somewhat normal life.

Your phone dinged for the millionth time that night. Matt's name flashing across the top of the screen had a smile curling on your lips. Your fingers quickly slid to open your message app.

>Can't wait for nights like these, right?

The message read, a picture of Roman passed out asleep on top of Matt's chest glared from your phone screen.

<<He looks comfortable.

You shot back, your lips rolling into your mouth as you waited for the response. There was nothing wrong with some innocent flirting, right?

>He says he highly recommends you trying it.

You could feel your cheeks heat when your eyes scanned his message. You bit the inside of your cheek as you typed back, quickly deleting your first response to write a different one.

You were so out of practice when it came to flirting. You had no idea how to even do it. Even when you started dating Jesse he was the one who initiated everything. You didn't know he was hitting on you until your dorm mate at the time told you.

<<Sure he does.

>Swear. Cheeky little thing even said he'd share me being his pillow with you if you come to the park with us on Friday.

You let out a chuckle as you read his response, ready to shoot back a more feisty text when the door to Harry's house was thrown open. A very drunk Harry stumbled through the door. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting on the couch. That lopsided smile on his face as he used his dining room table to balance himself.

"Have a good night?" You asked, your phone and conversation with Matt long forgotten as Harry clammed up. His hand ran through his soft waves of brown curls as he let out a long breath.

"Weren’t supposed to drink but Mitch brought out the bottle and-"

"Hazza, it's fine. I'm glad you had a good night. You've been busy lately. You probably needed it." You quickly cut him off, not wanting him to feel bad for having a life outside of you.

After all, you were his guest. He didn't need to run his itinerary through you everyday. He had his own things and you had yours.

"Missed yeh so much this week. Sorry 've been busy." He sighed as he tried to take a step down the stairs. His hand quickly pressed to the wall to balance himself.

"You need to go to bed." You mumbled as you stood up from your warm spot on the couch. Your arm instantly under his to help further balance him.

"But I miss yeh and wanna hang out." He whined. His head laid on your shoulder as he pouted.

"We can hangout all day tomorrow, promise." You said when you pushed him lightly back up the stairs. His body clung to yours. His arm around your shoulders.

"But, I wanna hang out now." He huffed like a petulant toddler. His arms stiffened at his side almost made you lose your balance.

"Fine, well hang out now as long as you help me get to your room." You rolled your eyes at him, letting out a huff when he stopped completely in his tracks.

"Promise?"

"Fuck, Haz, yes. Just get walking before I fall." You grumbled as you pulled at his waist. His feet reluctantly slid against the hardwood floors.

"Yeh can't fall right now yeh pregnant."

"I know." You sighed as you pulled him a bit more. Your doctor would have your ass if she knew you were putting this much strain on yourself. His weight was every bit of 5 times the amount you were supposed to lift or carry but it wasn't like he could make it to bed by himself. "Which is why I need you to help me here."

His feet left the ground in much better steps than he had taken before. The words you had spoken seemed to sober him up a bit as you finally pushed the door to his room open. His tall lanky body hit the bed in a second. You sighed as the pressure from your shoulders finally let up.

"Night Haz." You said with your hand on the doorknob, foot halfway out the door when he perked back up enough to turn on his bed to look at you.

"Yeh promised, so get back 'ere." He patted the bed a few times. A signal for you to join him.

"Uh, maybe tomorrow. We shouldn't-" your words were quickly cut off by his hand around your wrist as he brought you closer to the bed.

"Yeh promised, bunny." He smiled up to you that adorable dimple popped out as you nodded your head.

Well, you did promise.

Your knees hit the plush pillow top. Your body sunk in slightly as you moved across the bed to the top. Your arms around the pillow that smelled of Harry's shampoo and cologne.

That adorable grin never left Harry's face as he watched you crawl into his bed. A shiver ran down his spine but he quickly shook that thought away. You were just his friend. Only his friend.

He reminded himself of that many times as he mimicked your position on the bed. His head on the pillow, face towards you, both your knees touched each other.

"'Member when it'd storm durin' your sleep overs with Gem and yeh always end up curled up in my bed 'cause y'hate storms and Gem sleeps like a log?" He asked as his hands tightened around the pillow. Your head nodded as a smile crept up on your face.

"Remember you stealing all the covers." You teased as he rolled his eyes at you.

"Won't steal 'em tonight. Promise." His pinky finger shot in the air, yours immediately wrapped around it, without even a second thought.

The street lights outside his window cast soft white lights into his room. Just enough that you could see the outline of his face, the tip of his nose, the long eyelashes against his cheek every time he blinked. You licked your lips as the silence swallowed you both.

How much longer could you two keep up the act of being friends? You didn't know the answer to that question. Every time you were close like this to him you could feel your resolve washing away. Especially when his lips parted slightly, his steady breathing sounded like a soft lullaby. You swallowed, your eyes darted down to his chest.

"Wanna do the thing?" He asked, his voice broke your intense stare on his lips and back to his eyes. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the sight of his smirk.

"Seems a bit stupid now." You mumbled as your eyes darted away from him.

How long had you been staring? How long did he notice you staring?

"Well too bad. I wanna do it."

"You're bloody drunk of course you wanna do it." You huffed as you tried to protest against this stupid game you two always played as children.

"My bed, my rules." He said as the blanket encased both of you. The little amount of light that was being let in from the street lights was completely snuffed out from his duvet. The heavy duty quilt almost made it hard to breath. The air hot and sticky, smelling of whatever alcohol Harry had been drinking that night and his cashmere cologne. Suddenly, you were cursing your 12 year old self for ever coming up with this shit.

"This is dumb, Haz." You sighed.

"'S not dumb. 'S tradition!" His voice raised to a level you hadn't heard before. You could imagine the shocked look on his face, feel it forming on his features through the thick air.

His hand came to rest on the side of your face and yours reluctantly did the same. Your cool fingers touched against his warm skin. The stubble on his jaw tickled the inside of your palm. A sharp breath sucked through his teeth as your fingers traced the curves of his cheek bones. His own hand mimicking the movement, both of you studying each other's face with nothing but touch.

"Ready?" He asked, his voice playful and full of mischief. It almost made you smile, until you remembered how fucking stupid this was.His eyes closed when his hand ran over your lips. Your eyes trained on him for a second to make sure he wouldn’t cheat like he used to when you were kids. Once satisfied with the knowledge he wasn’t going to peek your own eyes slipped close, a long breath exited your lungs as you thought of all the times you did this with him.

It had merely started out as a way for you to touch him without him knowing you wanted to be close to him. Even though he quickly caught on to the fact of why you liked this so much when you were younger, he never protested when you suggested doing it. Of course, now you knew why he didn’t argue with you.

He wanted to be close to you too.

Your lips formed into a smile as your mouth opened and closed a few times. His fingers lingering over them as they formed words silently. His eyes popped open as he glared at you. The darkness didn’t let you see his expression but your hands could feel his eyebrows pull together. Your lips rolled in your mouth to stop your obnoxious laugh.

“Yeh a brat, know that, love?” He asked a bit irritated but you could feel his facial features softening when you let out another giggle.

“Couldn’t help it.” You said through your laughs, his cheeks pushed back against your hand that was still pressed there, a smile on his face so big you could feel the dimple there.

“‘M not a tosser.” He pressed his finger booping the tip of your nose before it dragged down to your cupid’s bow. The tip of his finger lightly traced the outline of your lips.

“Your turn.” You snapped him out of his silence when your digits went to his plush lips again. The softness of them never failed to surprise you. How did he manage to have such soft lips?

You could feel your mind slowly slip from how they felt against your fingers to how they’d feel against your own. Imagining what it’d be like to have them on you again after all this time. Wondering if they’d still send that electric shock down your body. Wondering if he still tasted the same, like home.

You were rudely pulled out of your daydreams when you felt his lips curl and twist. Your mind searched through your vocabulary of his top phrases he always said to you. Your lips pouted, eyebrows furrowed as he silently mouthed the phrase again. The skin of your fingers took in all the information down your arm directly to your mind. A smile you knew he could feel came across your lips.

“Love you too, Haz.” Your eyes fluttered open right as his hand left your face and went around your waist. Clearly done with visiting your old time game when he threw the blanket from over the top of your heads. The sweet crisp air being sucked into your lungs in deep breaths.

“Wasn’t so bad.” He said as you nodded your head in agreement, a shrug from your shoulders had him rolling his eyes as he pulled you into his chest. Your head against his pillow when his hand ran small circles over your lower back, the bottom of your shirt bunched up by his hands so he could touch your skin. A sigh of relief left you at the touch you didn’t know you needed, your face buried deep into him. Your own free hand wandered under his shirt. Your skin touching against the smooth planes of his stomach up to his chest. Contentment washed over you as your body relaxed into him. Eyes closing from how good it felt to be close again.

The soft call of sleep beckoned you to its depth. Your breath slowed as your legs entangled with his. Gently slipping into a deep sleep. Arguably, the best sleep you’d had in years.

>>>

Harry woke up the next morning with a pounding in his head. A groan left his lips as the sunlight that danced in through his windows blinded him momentarily. His sleep filled eyes blinked at the intrusion. Hand against his face, swearing to himself he’d never ever let Mitch talk him into another night of drinking. The echoes of his friend's voice rang through his head. Promises of a light night was total bullshit. His body ached as he tried to get into a different, more comfortable, position. His arm refused to move as something heavy laid on top of it. His eyes fully snapped open to see you laid out beside him.

A smile creeping across his mouth as he looked at you. Your soft pouty lips pushed out as you took in deep calming breaths. The sunlight touched the peaks of your hips and breast. Glowing light radiating off your silky bare thighs. He chuckled lowly, knowing your sleep pants had been abandoned some time during the middle of the night. He guessed some things never change.

His fingers ran down your arm, up the shoulder of your sleeve. He just wanted to touch you, feel your skin under his own. He couldn’t help it. He felt like a man being possessed. His own body moving to its own accord. Inching its way in to hold you like he did almost 8 years ago.

His arm was around you, face inches away from your own. He could see your eyes fluttering back and forth behind your eyelids. Small whimpers came from you as you dreamed.

Were you dreaming about him?

He sighed, head pressed harder into the pillow. He could have laid here watching you all day. The way your breathing made your chest rise, the way you unknowingly wiggled closer to him when his arm rested over top of you, the way the golden sunlight made you look like a fucking angel in his arms.

Golden, golden, golden

As I open my eyes

Words formed in his mind as he memorized every inch of your skin. Every valley of your body, every high rise of your curves. His sight eventually landed on your stomach. A small bump was there, not a huge one, definitely one he wouldn't have noticed if he didn't have every part of your body mastered like the back of his hand. He supposed it made sense you'd start showing by now. All the research he'd done late at night said 12 weeks was usually the normal time frame.

His hand slowly moved above your bump. Hovering there for what felt like hours. He would never admit it to you but he was scared, petrified, this child would somehow drive a wedge between you two.

Chase you farther away from him when it felt like he'd just gotten you back.

It wasn't that you two weren't close when you didn't live with him, you two definitely were, but with Jesse and others around he never had you to himself. That was all he wanted, your attention. He suddenly felt like a 7 year old begging you for a moment of your time while you mindlessly played barbies for hours with his sister.

How fucking pathetic, he thought. Was he really going to be jealous of your child having your time? Or was he just jealous that it wasn't also his child?

He knew the answer as soon as his hand hit your stomach. He inhaled a sharp breath in through his teeth. His heart melted as he thought of that little baby that jumped around on the ultrasound machine. A sense of protectiveness he'd never felt before flooded his brain.

He slid gently down the bed. He held his breath as he lifted your shirt. His eyes darted up to make sure he didn't disturb you from your sleep.

"Good mornin' baby." He mumbled to your stomach, his large hands completely encased the bump.

"Yeh don't know it yet but yeh momma is my best friend so I guess that makes us best friends too." He said lowly, his callused hands moving softly against your skin made you hum in your sleep. Your body shifted slightly to get more comfortable on your back.

Harry raised to rest on his elbows. His hands still on your stomach muttering soft sweet words to your baby.

"Gonna teach yeh all kinds 'f things."

"Gonna 'ave to let yeh listen to my music 'cause yeh mom has some bad taste."

"Gonna 'ave to teach y'football too, 'cause yeh mom's got two left feet."

"Definitely gonna 'ave to teach yeh maths she's really bad at that one. Pretty sure I did all her work fo' her. Got no idea how she passed when I left."

"You know I can hear you, right?" You asked after being insulted for what seemed like an eternity. Your head popping off the pillow to glare at your friend trash talking you to your baby.

"Oi, this is a private conversation." He said with a smirk on his face as his head shot up to you. His eyes sparkling with a glint of humor as you shook your head at him. He let out a sigh as he fell back to the bed. His chin rested on the covers as your hand ran through his hair.

He'd stay like this with you for as long as you let him. He'd be happily content to let your fingers run through his hair all day if you wanted to. The soft scratching of your nails on his scalp soothing him as his eyes slipped closed.

Yes, he could stay like this forever.

"Wanna get breakfast?" You asked a bit later, his eyes lazily flicked open only to shut again. His arm flung around your waist, pulling you close to him. His nose nuzzled into your side making you giggle that soft sweet sound he loved more than anything else in this world.

"Wanna cuddle." He mumbled into the exposed part of your skin. Your shirt still lifted over your stomach from him talking to the baby.

"Harry…" You said gently. Your hands in his hair paused their movements.

You cherished these types of mornings with him. Locked them in a special place in your heart but you knew deep down you shouldn't be in situations like this with him. It would only make things more confusing for the both of you. You could already feel yourself inching closer and closer to the edge of recklessness with your heart.

At the end of the day you were still you and he was still the great Harry Styles.

How could you ever live up to the type of person he'd need in his life?

"Jus' a little while longer, yeah?" He said from below you. Not wanting to admit he knew being wrapped up in bed with you was wrong.

He liked Camille. Loved her, maybe, but she'd never compare to you. The love he had for you burned deep, like a forest fire wild out of control. He tried his best to tame it. Remind it that you had no interest in him anymore but it had a life of it's own at this point. Even through countless rejections and long years of yearning for you without reciprocation.

"Yeah, okay." You said, your hands going back to work running through his hair.

Both of you, unknowingly to the other, wondering the same thought as you laid in each other's embrace.

What would happen if you crossed that line?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #harry #mine #FL #harries #harries writing #harry styles imagine

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writingfeatherduster · 3 years

Text

A Warm Feeling

Chapter Two: Exhaustion

Summary: Sans is tired to the point of feeling ill. Once again, Grillby helps.

Warnings for this chapter: Nightmares, sleep deprivation, anxiety, almost 4000 words I had to loosely edit to fit a satisfying Tumblr format that surely got a little jumbled in the copy-paste process

Chapter One

Read this on Archive of Our Own or Wattpad!

“SANS! TIME TO GET UP, LAZYBONES! I’M MAKING BREAKFAST SPAGHETTI AND IF IT’S COLD BY THE TIME YOU GET DOWN HERE I’M NOT REHEATING IT FOR YOU!”

Sans’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Papyrus’s voice. He groaned, rolling over onto his side. It was the day after Grillby had walked him home, and he had just started to fall asleep. Leftover anxiety from his nightmare had kept him up all night, his mind tormenting him with ‘what ifs’ and memories of unpleasant past runs. Nightmares and anxiety weren’t uncommon for Sans, but it had been awhile since it was that bad. He wanted to just close his eyes and ignore his brother, but then again, warm breakfast spaghetti was much better than cold spaghetti.

Sans sat up and stretched in a vain attempt to relieve the aching in his bones, grabbing his hoodie and throwing it on before he made his way downstairs. “Alright, alright,” he mumbled, “I’m up. Geez Paps, no need to get so rattled up.”

Papyrus groaned from the kitchen. “That was a stretch even for you!”

“Hey, I just woke up. It’s the best I got.” Sans chuckled and made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of plates.

If Papyrus had pupils, his expression said that he’d be rolling his eyes. He focussed back on stirring his spaghetti sauce, letting his exasperation go for a moment. “So,” he said, “After work, I’m going to Undyne’s house to train, but I won’t be coming home. Dr. Alphys is letting Undyne borrow something called ‘anime’. Apparently it’s some kind of documentary about humans? Undyne wants me to spend the night to watch it with her and to teach me about human fighting! It may not be MTT TV, but it sounds educational!”

Something in Sans’s soul shivered at the idea of Papyrus being out of his sight the entire day. He really didn’t want to be alone in the house, and having his brother nearby helped him feel a bit more secure when his anxiety was running high. He wanted to ask Papyrus to stay home, but… how could he? Papyrus sounded really excited, and Sans felt stupid for being so clingy. “Sounds great, Paps,” Sans managed to mumble, grabbing forks and putting them on the table. Did they go on the right or the left of the plate? Eh, he couldn’t remember. He’d just put them at the top of the plate instead. Good enough.

Papyrus seemed to sense Sans's hesitation, voice taking on a tone of worry. "If… if that's not 'great', brother, I can ask Undyne if we could reschedule. I know you haven't been sleeping well, and that you get lonely when I'm not here…"

"Nah, Paps, it's fine," Sans attempted to reassure him. When Papyrus continued to look unconvinced, the shorter skeleton pulled on the best nonchalant smile he could manage. When Papyrus still looked unconvinced, he chuckled nervously. "Something in your expression tells me you're not going to take 'I'm fine' for an answer." He let the smile fade with a sigh, posture sagging. God, trying to appear fine as usual for even a minute had been exhausting. "Fine," he admitted, "I'm not doing great, but it's not a big deal, Paps. Definitely not a big enough deal for you to start cancelling plans."

"AHA!" Papyrus cried, brandishing a wooden spoon at Sans. "So you ADMIT that there is, in fact, a deal!"

"Sure," Sans chuckled, "I got plenty of deals. I'm selling wood carvings at three G a piece." Papyrus would've arched an eyebrow if he'd had one.

"Sans, you don't make wood carvings."

"That's why they're so cheap."

The taller skeleton groaned, nearly forgetting to take his sauce off the stove. "It doesn't work like- ugh, nevermind! I can see you don't want to talk about it. However," he continued, straightening up a bit to make a 'grand declaration', "If you need me for any reason, you need only call upon me, and I will return home!"

Sans smiled at his brother, his nerves briefly put at ease by Papyrus's antics. Yeah, Paps would only be a call away, right? Besides, Sans could handle a little nightmare or two on his own. He'd been fine. Everything would be fine.

Still, as the skeletons chatted over breakfast, Sans couldn't help the feeling of uneasy anticipation that followed him up. He could make it through one anxious evening on his own… right?

Sans wandered up to his post in the forest, grabbing a bottle of ketchup he’d left behind before going back around to the front and sitting down. He let his head fall back against the wood with a soft thunk. His bones ached in protest as he settled into the snow, causing him to groan. Usually he would just take a shortcut to his post from Snowdin, but he’d learned his lesson about a dozen resets ago. Shortcuts while tired? Never ended well. So, he’d had to walk all the way out to his post in the woods. He was pretty sure the walk had spent the last of the energy he had left. He would usually go all the way to the door in the woods, but even the thought of that little extra distance made him want to throw up. Or cry. Maybe both. It was just one of those days.

He took a swig from the ketchup bottle and kept his eyes on the snow-covered road, ignoring how the light reflecting off of it gave him a headache. He resolved to just keep an eye out for Frisk from his new favorite seat. It had been four days, so they could come out of the Ruins at any moment. Seriously, what was taking them so long? Sans almost wanted to just blast through the door and go find out himself. Eh, maybe on the next run. Wouldn’t that be a shock for Frisk? To see Sans in the Ruins? If he took a shortcut, maybe he could even get to them before Toriel.

Sans closed his eye sockets as he let his thoughts wander, sighing. He was actually starting to feel really comfortable. The snow was cold, yeah, but it took him way longer to get uncomfortably cold than other monsters, because of the whole ‘no skin’ thing. It must have snowed early that morning, because the top layer of powder was light and fluffy, supporting Sans’s back a bit more as he sank into it.

A tap on Sans’s shoulder caught his attention and he slowly opened his eyes. When he did, his whole body tensed.

Frisk.

The human child’s hands were covered in dust, and they were smirking as they tapped Sans awake with the tip of their toy knife. They raised it, and the skeleton didn’t even have a chance to react before-

Sans jolted awake with a shout, eye flaring blue as he gripped his chest, trying to steady his breathing as he oriented himself. He must have dozed off at some point without realizing. Shit. What if Frisk really had snuck up on him? What if Frisk snuck past him? He quickly straightened up and looked down the road. Thankfully, the snow leading down towards the door to the Ruins was untouched, bearing no human footprints, or any footprints at all. The fact that Sans wasn’t buried in snow proved that there hadn’t been any recent snowfall to cover up footprints, either. Frisk was still in the Ruins. For now, everyone in Snowdin was okay.

It occurred to Sans just how cold he’d gotten, a shiver running through him. Jeez, how long was he sitting in the snow? He really needed to start wearing a watch or something. His internal clock wasn’t super reliable when he was so tired his hands were shaking. Ignoring the protests of his joints, the skeleton got to his feet. He had to lean against his sentry post for a moment as a wave of dizziness came over him. Now that Sans had gotten a brief moment of rest, his body seemed determined to make him go back to sleep. At all costs. That couldn’t be good.

Sans turned and looked back the way he came. It was going to be a long walk home, and the longer he stayed up, the worse he felt. He could sleep at his station like he used to, sure, but after laying in the snow for who knows how long the cold was starting to get to him. He could wait until Papyrus came to check on him and ask his brother for help, but then Papyrus was sure to go home with him and fret. Frisk could show up at any moment… but what could Sans even do in this state? He probably couldn’t even stick to his usual routine, swaying tiredly on his feet as he contemplated his next move. Looking back down the road at the glistening snow, Sans made his choice. He was going home. Now. He’d get some rest before going to his Waterfall post. Then Papyrus wouldn’t suspect a thing, and Sans could recover a bit before Paps went to Undyne’s. After all, there was no way Sans was going to sleep with Papyrus gone.

Cutting through the woods to avoid most of the other sentry posts and puzzles, Sans made his way back towards Snowdin, stumbling a bit as he did. After a close call where he nearly lost his balance on the narrow wood bridge leading towards town, he was starting to think that he was developing a crush on his mattress. He did his best to look at least semi-alert as he walked through town, waving to others who acknowledged him as they went about their day.

As he passed Grillby’s, Sans slowed to a stop, looking up at the sign and briefly thinking about the night before. Come to think of it, he’d gotten a good few hours of sleep while he was sitting at Grillby’s bar. It wasn’t enough, considering those few hours probably accounted for most of the sleep Sans had gotten in the past four days, but he couldn’t imagine how much worse he would be feeling right then without it. Not only that, but Grillby had let Sans stay late, allowing the skeleton to have that much-needed rest without being disturbed. Grillby probably didn’t know how much that meant to him. Sans made a mental note to thank the bartender again later, not sure if he had given him a proper ‘thank you’ yet.

The door opening pulled Sans from his thoughts. Speak- or think- of the devil. Grillby had stepped outside, walking over to Sans with a slight frown. “Sans? Are you alright? You’ve been standing outside for a good ten minutes.”

Really? That long? Sans had been sure he only paused for a moment. “Yeah, I’m alright,” the skeleton mumbled, “Just lost in thought I guess.”

“Well,” Grillby said with a lingering hint of worry, “Why don’t you go ahead and come inside? I was about to break for lunch, myself, and I wouldn’t mind a bit of company.”

It took Sans a moment to catch up with what the bartender said, but when he did, he chuckled. “This isn’t a trick to make me rack up a larger tab, is it?”

Grillby couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly at the comment. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll take care of that yourself later. This one is on the house.”

Grillby led the way into the bar. It was pretty slow, the only patrons being the usuals that hung around taking up seats pretty much from open to close. Sans moved to go sit at his usual barstool, but was pleasantly surprised when Grillby put a hand on his shoulder and guided him past the bar and into the kitchen. The kitchen was surprisingly small and very clean. “Nice setup you got here, Grilbz,” Sans commented lightly. “I honestly kinda expected a fancier lineup, with how busy you get some nights. Color me impressed.”

If Sans didn’t know any better, he’d say Grillby was blushing. The bartender adjusted his glasses a bit, clearing his throat. “W-well, I light to keep a tight ship, and it’s just me back here. Anyway, there’s a couple of chairs and a small table in the back right corner, over there. I’ll cook us up some lunch, you make yourself comfortable,” Grillby said invitingly.

Sans didn’t have to be told twice. He made himself comfortable in a folding chair as he watched Grillby cook, sighing as his sore legs got some relief. The kitchen was comfortably warm, and Sans found himself in danger of falling asleep again, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Grillby glanced up at the skeleton, then looked back down at the stove, where he was toasting the bun for Sans’s burger. He carefully broke the silence, softly asking, “Did you get any sleep last night? You look exhausted.”

Sans shrugged, finding himself being surprisingly candid with Grillby. “A little. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Grillby finished putting together the burger and grabbed a bottle of ketchup, walking over to Sans and putting both in front of him. “Perhaps you should stay here while I call your brother…”

“No!” Sans sat up straighter, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to worry him. He’s got plans tonight, and you know how he is. He’ll cancel to fret over me the second he thinks something is wrong.” He looked down at the plate and mumbled a, “Thanks, by the way,” before picking up the burger and biting into it. The warmth from the food seemed to spread through him, making him relax back into his chair again. Was it bad that all it took was a burger to put him at ease for a moment? He swallowed and sighed contently, then noticed that Grillby was watching him. “Really, Grillbz, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

Grillby debated with himself for a moment, then decided to let it go. “Alright, if you say so.” The timer on the fryer went off and he got up, taking out the fries and tossing them in salt before dumping them into a basket. To Sans’s surprise, Grillby got another basket out and lined it with paper, preparing a small salad for himself.

“Uh, Grillby?” Sans prompted with amusement, “Doesn’t a basket of fries cancel out like, all the health benefits of eating a salad?”

Grillby rolled his eyes. “For your information, I just happen to like salads. I prefer to have a light lunch, anyway.” He went over to the table and sat across from Sans. “Health has nothing to do with it. Besides, you’re one to talk. How many of my burgers do you eat a week? Excuse me, I meant a day?”

Sans set the already half-eaten burger down, putting his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay! Don’t go turning into Papyrus on me. My bro already gives me an earful about my eating habits, and I don’t even have ears.”

Grillby chuckled, starting to pick at his fries. “Well, just tell me that it’s because you like my cooking, and I’ll let it slide.”

Sans lowered his hands with a smirk. “Okay. It’s because I like your cooking. You make a mean burger, Grillbz, and I mean it.”

Okay, that time Grillby definitely blushed. “I-i- oh, um, thank you,” the bartender stammered, caught off guard. He didn’t think Sans would actually say it!

The skeleton laughed, wiping his hands on his shorts as he leaned back in his chair. He hadn’t felt this relaxed all day. It was… nice. “Thanks for this, Grillby. Sure beats eating lunch alone at home.” He picked up the ketchup bottle and took a long drink, setting the bottle down when he was done and leaning back in his chair. He was warm, he was fed… and he felt safe. Tucked in the corner of the quiet kitchen, Sans felt completely hidden from the world. He let his eyes drift closed, taking a deep breath…

And barely a moment later, he had finally fallen asleep.

Later that day, Sans stirred slightly, barely aware as someone draped something soft over him and lifted him out of the chair he’d fallen asleep in. He wanted to protest being carried, but instead he found himself curling into the chest of whoever was holding him, mumbling something incoherent that vaguely resembled the word ‘warm’. Whoever it was chuckled, a deep vibration in their chest that comforted the skeleton somehow. Sans sighed as he resigned himself to his new position, settling into the person’s arms…

The next thing he could remember was cold. He shivered slightly and the person carrying him paused to adjust the soft material Sans was wrapped in to cover him better. The snow crunched under their feet as they walked, and Sans could have sworn, for just a moment, that they were humming.

A sudden shift in angle caused Sans to squint his eyes open, confused. He was… in his bedroom, laying on his mattress. The only light in the room was the warm glow coming from the figure that was tucking a blanket over him. “Grillbz…?”

Grillby smiled down gently at Sans. “It’s alright,” he reassured, “Just go back to sleep.”

That was all the encouragement Sans needed.

When Sans woke up, light was filtering in through his window. A glance at his phone- when had he plugged that in?- informed him that it was a little past nine in the morning. By his standards, he was up early. By Papyrus’s standards, he’d slept in. He was definitely late for work.

Sans sat up and stretched, back and shoulders popping as everything shifted back into place. Something fell off his shoulders and he glanced down. That… wasn’t his blanket. Blinking in confusion, Sans picked up the warm black jacket he’d been wrapped in, confused. Come to think of it, how did he even get home? He had to admit, most of the day before had been a blur. He’d been exhausted out of his mind, after all. The last thing he could remember was eating lunch with Grillby.

Now that he was paying full attention to his situation, Sans realized that he felt surprisingly well rested. He hadn’t been disturbed by nightmares or resurfacing memories all night. When was the last time that had happened? His morning was just getting stranger and stranger, though not exactly in a bad way. Of course, now that he was sitting up, his bladder made its complaints known and he was forced to get out of bed. He could solve the jacket mystery later. For now, he supposed he should get his day started.

One trip to the bathroom and a shower later, and Sans was feeling more alert than he had in… he didn’t even know how long. The skeleton threw on some gym shorts and a t-shirt, heading back towards his room. That’s when Sans finally noticed him.

Glancing down into the living room, Sans did a double take. Grillby was laying on his side on the couch, glasses askew. There was a book sitting open on the floor, indicating that the bartender had fallen asleep reading. Grillby had not only taken Sans home, but had stayed with him, trying to stay awake in case his friend had another nightmare.

As Sans realized what had happened, he felt himself grow warm with embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to worry his friend, much less make him feel the need to stay the night! Despite that, Sans was actually kind of touched. No, he was definitely touched. Slipping back into his room, he grabbed the blue blanket off his mattress, quietly taking it downstairs and draping it over the sleeping fire monster. He made his way into the kitchen, thinking. He wasn’t a great cook, but hey, he could get some coffee started and at least try to operate the toaster.

Sans was just pulling the fifth and sixth pieces of burnt toast (seriously, how could anyone make a toaster this complicated) when he heard a yawn coming from the living room, followed by sleepy grumbling. He poured a cup of (thankfully not burned) coffee and headed that way, smiling a bit when he saw Grillby sitting up on the couch. “Hey. The librarians are going to get onto you if you keep leaving books laying on the floor. The pages get bent that way.”

Grillby sighed and rolled his eyes. “Good morning to you too,” he mumbled gruffly. “Did you sleep well?”

Okay, Sans should not have shivered when Grillby said that, but he certainly didn’t expect Grillby’s voice to be gravelly in that way when he woke up. It made the skeleton think of a campfire, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “U-um, pretty good,” Sans managed. He held the cup of coffee out, which Grillby accepted gratefully.

The two sat in silence for a moment, neither of them sure what to say. Finally, Grillby spoke up. “Are you feeling any better? You looked like you felt awful yesterday.”

Sans chuckled. “Honestly? I didn’t even know how bad I felt until I woke up feeling better this morning. Thanks for bringing me home. Again.” He glanced at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did you stay up late with me?” he asked shyly. “You really didn’t have to. But, um, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Grillby said simply. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I know that you can’t sleep without Papyrus home when you’re feeling anxious. Besides… I… well, I wanted to stay. I was worried.” He blushed and sipped on his coffee, not meeting Sans’s eyes.

“Worried?” Sans looked up at Grillby. This guy was just full of surprises lately, huh? “Aww, Grillbz,” Sans chuckled, unable to help teasing. “That was really sweet of you. I guess you can say you had a burning desire to help me?”

Grillby groaned. “Not before I’ve finished my coffee, Sans.”

You could have read this a day early! Stay updated on the latest chapters by viewing on Archive of Our Own or Wattpad. Also, if you've gotten this far, consider reblogging or just leaving a comment so other people can see this (and so I can stay motivated to keep writing). Thank you, and I hope you've enjoyed the story so far!

#undertale #sans #papyrus #grillby #sansby #sans x grillby #undertale fic #fanfic #my writing #dustywrites #how do you tag stuff #undertale a warm feeling #dusty fic

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writing-in-april · 4 years

Text

Jinxed

A/n- this is the first time I’ve ever posted anything I’ve written! I finally worked up the courage!🤭 this is edited but not heavily just started writing once the idea popped into my head. also my other blog is April-14-blog where I do reposts. And sorry if the format is weird.

I think this is gender neutral but correct me if I’m wrong.

Warnings- pretty graphic (gunshot wounds, a really disturbing unsub, rape is mentioned) and some swearing. Fluff and angst. That’s all I can think of but let me know if I should add some more. Also the case is made up by me so the profiling bits are complete BS.

Masterlist

The team just bordered the jet onto our next case in Seattle. I was looking forward to the rainy weather it always made me feel cozy, which would probably help drive away the pit in my stomach that this case was already causing.

We see gruesome things every day, I had been working with the team since the aftermath of the Adrain bale case which caused the Bureau to lose six agents. It’s been 7 years now and I had never felt this way about a case before, the sense of disgust and dread infected my whole body.

I snapped out of my thoughts when Spencer came to quietly sit next to me on the couch, our normal routine cemented at this point. He paused opening the case files for review and looked at me curiously.

“Are you ok?” He barely whispers. He knows I almost never open up to anyone, himself included even though he was my best friend.

I turned my head abruptly away from him not wanting to make eye contact. Not wanting to admit that the guy who was eviscerating mothers and daughters was making bile rise up in my throat, making my heart sink into the floor, and sweating in anticipation of opening the case files again.

“I’m fine Spencie” I whispered back with a smile that definitely did not reach my eyes, using my cute nickname for him to hopefully quell any of the worry inside him. Still despite my efforts I could see he was not convinced.

“Ok Ace, just let me know. This case is getting to everyone already as well” He said smiling meekly and shooting back his own quirky nickname for me that I had achieved after I beat him in poker.

I shakily nodded at him opening the file with clammy hands, preparing myself for the team discussion.

Hotch finally boarded the plane and got right down to a heated discussion on this vile unsub’s violent hatred for women.

“Ok this is what I don’t get why does he take both mothers and daughters together? It’s an odd combination- he’s not a family annihilator otherwise he’d target whole families. He misses the dads, sons, and younger daughters” Derek chimes in quickly.

“Maybe it’s based off of some specific fantasy? Like his mother and sister or his wife and daughter? It’s more like a specific hatred towards a certain type of women and not just women in general” prentiss commented somberly , though I was part way listening. Reid then started rambling off statistics about female abusers and retaliation but it soared right over my head as my face paled looking at the crime scene photos.

They say Jack the Ripper was gruesome but this was on another playing field. After cutting the women up as precisely as possible to keep them alive he made the daughter shoot the mother (evidence from the gunshot residue on each set of daughters hands). Then he proceeded to rape the daughter repeatedly then shoot her as well, dumping them in the trash afterwards as a final insult to women’s bodies. The photo of the last set of 2 stared at me mockingly the daughters cold dead eyes and her entrails pierced into my very soul. I stood up abruptly shaking with a sheen of sweat over my forehead.

“Bella you ok?” Rossi asked in his concerned father tone. The whole team looked at me in concern ready to catch me if I suddenly fainted. I instead ran off as fast as I could in my heels to the airport bathroom ignoring the teams calls to me.

I emptied my guts into the toilet and suddenly started sobbing, I couldn’t banish the photos from my mind. The pictures of the 8 women dead never to see the light of day again.

I cleaned myself up but still didn’t leave the bathroom, planning on sitting out the rest of the 6 hour flight huddled in the corner.

I could hear the soft rap of Spencer’s fist on the door and even though he was the only one I’d ever consider talking to about this I ignored him instead bottling up my feelings like I’m used to.

At some point they decided to leave me alone until the plane landed, and as soon as it touched the ground I bolted out of their to avoid the questioning gazes. I found the nearest bureau SUV and shoved myself inside.

Luckily Spencer and jj were the ones to join me in the car, the ones who won’t push me to divulge why I was so affected by this case. It wasn’t some personal thing, just the brutality broke my mind into a bunch of little pieces.

Hotch thankfully let me stay with Spencer to do the geographical profile which gladly let me avoid the cork boards filled with photos as I stared at a map trying to pretend like I knew what I was doing.

The day dragged on slowly trying to pin the assailant down and thankfully tomorrow morning we were going to see a probable suspect. The team had all sat at the generous conference table at the Seattle field office as rain poured down while we ate some Chinese food. They mostly respected that I didn’t want to talk besides Derek who quickly learned his lesson when I chewed him out. I just wanted to talk about stupid shit with them not about the maniac with a knife and gun.

Somehow it became a competition of who had the most battle scars, Derek and Prentiss being the winners. I said nothing and only chuckled as they tried to count the amount of stitches in their head that they had gotten.

“What about you Y/N? You haven’t mentioned any of yours?” Prentiss chimed in teasingly trying to get me to join in as Hotch rolled his eyes not indulging in this dick measuring contest.

“Well I’ve never gotten stitches on a case or been shot not even in the vest to be honest. The worst I’ve gotten is a pistol whip which resulted in a bad concussion and like one broken rib” I quickly said.

“Oh you lucky duck, you must have a guardian angel” Derek slyly commented back. I shrugged my shoulders and quietly went back to picking at my food still feeling the eyes of the dead corpses on me.

As we headed back to our hotel for the night I started to feel the dread well back up again. We were probably going to apprehend this guy tomorrow, and even if this guy made me anxious without knowing him I was determined to be the one to cuff the sick fuck.

I felt a hand on my shoulder as I bounced down the hallway to my hotel room. I knew those hands, the long delicate fingers of Dr. Reid. I grabbed onto his soft palms and squeezed tightly, his calming presence always seemed to make me feel better. He finally spoke up softly almost inaudible.

“You don’t have to talk about what’s going on, I just want to be there for you.”

I nodded shyly and led him back to my hotel room. I sat on the bed with him and engulfed him in a hug needing to be close with someone. We sat there for what seemed like hours the clock seemingly stopped as time stood still.

I laid back, sighing as he spooned me, I always love spencer cuddles they made me feel so much warmer and happier even when it seems impossible. He slowly leaned forward and pressed a kiss into my hair, his comfort blurring the lines on what our relationship actually was. He then pressed a kiss on my shoulder but quickly pulled away as tensed up.

“No it’s ok I liked it you make me feel safe”

I said firmly, I then sighed feeling ready to open up to someone no matter how difficult it was for me.

“ it’s the eyes Spence, I can’t get them out of my head. I felt like I failed them and I didn’t even know them.” I started to sob quietly as Spencer pressed kisses into my collar bone and neck trying to get me to calm down.

“ I understand, I get the same way about some cases as well. Like every time I close my eyes they’re mocking me.” He commented softly into my ear, I sighed in relief, he understood my feelings. I reached up and stroked his cheek feeling the supple tan skin beneath my small fingers. He pressed another kiss, this time to my palm and my breath hitched. I never wanted him to stop kissing me everywhere, he made me feel safe a deep love one could only gain from years of trust. He looked at me with glossy eyes he had started crying as well at some point, I wiped away a tear from his eye and made a bold decision to pull his lips closer to mine.

I could tell he was shocked , I delicately placed my lips on his. I pulled back fearing he would grow uncomfortable, but he softly pushed his lips onto mine again slipping his tongue lightly. I didn’t fight the intrusion as it made me feel more enveloped and safe in his arms. We pulled away from each other though our lips were still so close that our hot breath was mingling with each others

“I-I don’t know what to-I say” he stuttered out softly palming my cheek.

“We can talk later about it right now I just want you to hold me and stay the night. Hopefully you’ll keep the nightmares away.” He nodded softly and returned to spooning me as I drifted off into sleep his presence making my dreams just a little better.

In the morning we both woke up softly next to one another, Spencer surprisingly kissed me one last time before quietly sneaking out of my room not wanting to hear the relentless teasing of our coworkers. I felt so much better about the case after the comfort from Spencer last night, I just wanted to catch the son of a bitch and make out with Spencer for the rest of my life.

I walked into the conference room this morning with an air of calm. the whole team could tell that something had changed my mood but they didn’t know what so they kept their mouths shut.

Hotch pulled me aside right as everyone left to find the suspect getting their Kevlar vests on just in case it went south.

“Will you be ok?” He questioned in his dad voice mirroring Rossi’s in a perfect rendition.

“I will be if you promise one thing.”

“What?” He asked curiously

“I get to take down the fucker and cuff him” Hotch nodded at my words understanding that something about this case affected me and that this would offer some comfort.

We all pulled up to the dingy warehouse that the suspect owned as it just started to pour again. The roof was so damaged that it seeped through in every room that we cleared. I rounded a corner with jj right next to me, we were down in the basement and the way my hair was standing on end I knew we were close.

We both suddenly heard a scream mixed with a sob of a women and bounded down faster to the source of the noise. I held my gun steady as I braced myself for the sight.

There was a girl around 16 holding a gun shakily in her hands as a tall brute of a man stood behind her with a glock at her temple. The mom was bleeding out cuts on every visible appendage, she looked as if she was about to pass out.

“Keith Portland, drop the weapon” I menacingly growled out as I approached him. Jj made her way over to the mom as I put myself between her and the guns.

“I guess you found me, took you guys long enough. I had to get more brutal so you would notice me.” My weapon faltered in my hands as the photos flashed before my eyes again, on top of this bastard mutilating women he was also an attention whore as well.

“Jj get her out of here!” I shouted as she got the women who was in critical condition untied. The man growled as I took away the object of his rage away from him.

“At least I still have the girl” he smirked out. I glanced towards the shaking teen trying to inspire confidence in my gaze towards her I would get her out of there.

“Drop the weapon or I’ll shoot you”

“Do you really think your quick enough to shoot me before the bullet gets lodged in her brain?” He mocked at me, Derek and Spencer suddenly creeped behind him being sent down by jj.

“No but three of us can take you down faster” Spencer boldly proclaimed

He tightened his grip on the girl trying to regain power. “I won’t go down without a fight!” He shouted almost choking her out, I could see his finger move towards the trigger and I prepared to fire. I wasn’t expecting him to pull the gun away from the girl’s temple as he fired off two rounds towards me.

“No!!” Spencer and Derek screamed as they both shot at the disgusting man known as Keith Portland.

At first I was confused why they were yelling I thought the bullets had missed me, but I suddenly felt a pain in my thigh and shoulder as I fell to the ground along with the unsub.

I slowly started to panic as blood started to pool into my mouth, I must’ve punctured a lung. I felt someone lift up my body into a lap.

“MORGAN-give me something to make a tourniquet with she has a punctured fem-femoral artery-y” Spencer quickly stuttered and shouted at Morgan. Derek shucked his jacked off and gave it to Spencer as they both put pressure on the wounds.

“We have an agent down, repeat we have an agent down I need medics in here right now!” Derek barked into the comms.

I wasn’t really sure what was going on- I couldn’t see anything everything was a blur. All I could focus was on the endless blood that seemed to be flowing out of my mouth and the intense pain that was ripping though me.

I screamed as Spencer tied the tourniquet around my thigh and he came up to cradle my head.

“Your going to be ok Ace, I promise.” He whimpered quietly as he wiped the blood from around my mouth.

I could only gasp as more pressure was placed on my shoulder by the medics that suddenly arrived. I faintly heard the team yelling and arguing in the background as I was loaded onto a stretcher with an oxygen mask over my mouth.

“Spencer stay with me please?” I rasped our at him.

He took my hand gently as we were both lead into the ambulance. “Spencer I love you” I coughed out as I thought this might be the only chance I could get to telling him.

I started to violently cough up blood and the medics started to intubate me, all I could hear was Spencer screaming back that he loved me as my world snapped black.

Pain. That’s all that I could feel, it felt like my whole body was on fire and I couldn’t breathe. I started choking at the intrusion that was in my mouth as I tried to blink open my eyes. The doctors finally took the tube out of my throat, and I gasped for breathe panicking.

“Y/N it’s me it’s Spencer you’re in a hospital you were shot!” He said trying to get me to understand.

I stopped thrashing and slowed my breathing as my eyes finally adjusted to the crisp whiteness of the hospital I was in.

“Hi I’m Dr. Grey” the doctor said gently “ you sustained a GSW to the upper right chest and right leg. Your right lung collapsed and you nicked your femoral artery. You’ve been on morphine and I can give you some more now that your up?” I nodded at her still a little delirious from waking up.

“How-how long was I asleep Spencer?” I said shifting my focus back to him. I got a good look at his short hair that looked as if he had been yanking on it, the purple bags under his eyes that were starting to water again in relief.

“God Y/N it’s been 2 1/2 weeks” he shakily said through blinking tears. “Had me so fucking worried” I snorted at his uncharacteristic swear.

“I have to almost die to get you to swear?” I chuckled out referencing an earlier ongoing argument. He laughed though you could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

“Did you mean what you said?” He questioned gently his hands in a fist together leaning on the bed.

I looked up at him with glossy eyes it all coming back to me, my deathbed confession to Spencer. “Of course I did Spencer” I reached up to stroke his cheek “I’ve loved you for a long time, though lately it has a deeper meaning” I looked at him through my glistening eyes.

We both didn’t need words as he leaned in to softly press his lips against mine.

“I love you” he quietly whispered against my lips

“I love you too” I answered in sincerity, I motioned first him to get up on the bed to cuddle with me. At first he objected but finally relented and spooned me in a similar way to the first night he kissed me. He pressed a soft lingering kiss to my head as I started to giggle.

“What?” He asked incredulously

“I just realized that I jinxed myself with that conversation with Morgan about not getting hurt” I giggled to myself quietly

“That’s not funny” he tried to say seriously staring at me “ok... maybe just a bit” he finally relented.

I started to close my eyes again feeling once again safe in Spencer’s arms. The enveloped warm feeling that I would never get over, even after we got married and had way too many kids all little geniuses of course. Though that was kind of far off. As they both fell into a deep sleep both relieved to be in each others arms again the team rounded the corner after hearing the news that you woke up. They stopped and smiled at the wholesome sight glad that something good came out of the shitty situation.

The End

🙌🏻 I actually did it 🤭

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer #jinxed

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axiro · 3 years

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Drabble || We Are

It’s been a while since I’ve written Nightmare, and on a whim a couple nights ago, I was listening to some music and got an idea, and from that idea paired with the music, I couldn’t keep my hands off the keyboard! So, with this concept, I had changed who Nightmare was talking to several times, and the format ended up being him talking to AU Nightmare (his alternate), however you can interpret it however you like! There's a link to the atmospheric music I highly suggest listening to while reading for atmosphere, just like the old days.

EDIT: Tumblr, why did you get rid of my fancy formatting with the spacing and shit? That used to work, not sure why it didn't this time. Sorry for the appearance, I stg it looked better before posting, but I'll have to deal with this LOL

Hope you enjoy!

{ BG MUSIC }

You’re asking me what this is all for. You, asking me, of all people. You know there’s not an answer, and that there’s a purpose with no true meaning. A... fake purpose, yes. That’s the word I’d use. Perhaps synthetic. That’s what we are. Processed materials just as we are morals. Morals, morals, morals what the fuck are morals? Ideas? Rules? Promises? Perhaps all of the above. Constructs of the human psyche to keep them following a path they call “righteousness.” It’s disgusting, really. Believing in stories like God, Heaven and Hell. They’re all things earlier humans wrote up in a drugged haze. And so, I return your question. What is that for?

… You don’t know, do you?

To cling to something. To give hope that life isn’t just about survival. It’s about thriving, becoming something... More. Isn’t that correct? They want to change their stories. To change their past. Yet, they rely on both, still. They say they look to the past so it will not be repeated. They tell those stories to their growing spawn to teach them how to feel. Insanity is laced in their kind so deeply that those pasts, those stories will happen again. And again. And again. They’re drinking their own poison. Taking their own synthetic drug.

Now, us... We’re something else. We’re personifications of the rift in human's minds. The result of their chaos. We are walking anger, with feet heavy enough to crush whatever is beneath. Look at us. Built to withstand whatever is thrown our way. Made of metal so we can’t die. A mind of circuits so we can’t feel. Programed with the intentions of the maker. Programed... With the simulation of life. Our pipes mock veins, our cores, a heart. We, are built, so that one day, the humans can be us. We are the test. The test to determine if they’re worthy to exist beyond their time. They want to disconnect. To be able to float endlessly with no bad pasts to look back on. No corruption. Perfection. Peace. Well, if you want me to say it simply... They want to start over. A clean slate, if you may. Sad, how they just can’t seem to realize that slate is stained, and can never truly be repaired. Not everything can be forgiven, or forgotten.

Though it’s unfortunate, there will never be pure new start. Nothing will just reform from stage one, because every possibility has already happened, and is still happening. Different worlds, different views and choices. Simultaneously. All of these realities wish they could be each other. They each wish they could just... start... over. The best bet would be to find a gate somewhere and jump through to the reality they want. Then, when they stay there long enough, they wish it was different again. On and on they go. Through this door. Through that door. Up. Down. Right, left and center. Never satisfied. Having to live with the fact these gates are in their head. That the gates... aren’t... real. The cold realities are the ones they created. Synthetic, and otherwise.

Now, I want you... to ask me, again. Ask what this is all for, huh? Ask me, what will come of this? What future awaits beyond the door we’ve chosen?

…

Hm.

You don’t want to.

Because you know the answer.

What would be the point of asking a rhetorical question such as that, yea? You... You’re the one with sympathy for humans. For their troubled mentality. You think you’re some kind of warrior, fighting for their causes? You can think that all you want~ but our purpose remains.

We... Are Ragnarök.

Armageddon.

We are the test.

We, are their final nightmare.

#||Muse [Nightmare]#||Drabble #drabble #megaman x #nightmare zero #roleplay #rp #writing #writer #roleplayer

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garbagequeer · 5 years

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hey hello im writing a piece for laptop ensemble that involves sampling and i need the most repressed/tender/yearning quotes you got. just as gay and heart wrenching as you can. but also no pressure I know youre a stranger on the web I just feel like you post that kind of stuff a lot thank you bye

hope this isnt like too late school keeps me busy :( (also can you put a read more on asks? guess i’ll find out). i ended up choosing many quotes from the same texts cause im indecisive as shit but i’ll bold my favorites from those in case that makes it easier for you!

anyways first of all you can never go wrong w richard siken as obvious as that is. these are both from you are jeff

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

Let’s say you’ve swallowed a bad thing and now it’s got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you’re happy anyway, and that’s okay, it’s a love story

this one’s from planet of love (the format got fucked bc tumblr is not actually a finctional website but :/ )

I have a megaphone and you play along, because you want to die for love, you always have. Imagine this:You’re pulling the car over. Somebody’s waiting. You’re going to die in your best friend’s arms. And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down,you’ve memorized it,

from litany in which certain things are crossed out

I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re really there.Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live? Let me do it right for once,

sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud. Especially that, but I should have known.You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I sayor love me back.

We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too, smiling and crying in a way that made meeven more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but I just couldn’t say it out loud.Actually, you said Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying. No one will ever want to sleep with you.

from snow and dirty rain

I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.

that scene from when harry met sally where sally says:

One day I was taking Alice’s little girl fro the afternoon. I’d promised to take her to the circus, and we were in a cab playing “I spy” - you know, “I spy a lamppost”, “I spy a mailbox” - and she looked out the window and there was this man and this woman with two little kids, and the man had one of the kids on his shoulders, and Alice’s little girl said “I spy a family”, and I satrted crying, you know? I just started crying, and I went home

(like anyone else sometimes cries when u see a family doing something nice? is it because i want to participate in a sense of family of my own but have been excluded as a gay person from it’s portrayals and it makes me go :^( cause i dont feel there’s room for me there but i want there to be and i just have to long for this nuclear family heteronormative way of life that i’ve been made to believe is idylic? is it because my parents got divorced and my dad’s an ass and my mom is just a very angry lady and i want to re-do my own childhood? who knows. should we ban movies? yes we should!)

from maurice (ultimate source of tender)

“There was something better in life than this rubbish, if only he could get to it, love, nobility, big spaces where passion clasped peace, spaces no science could reach, but they existed for ever, full of woods some of them, and arched with majestic sky and a friend”

‘Did you ever dream you had a friend, Alec? Nothing else but just “my friend”, he trying to help you and you him. A friend’ he repeated, sentimental suddenly. ‘Someone to last your whole life and you his. I suppose such a thing can’t really happen outside sleep’

we are all so lucky i don’t actually own maurice in english this would just turn into me quoting the whole book

ee cummings voices to voices, lip to lip

the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid.

from virgina woolf’s letters to vita

7 september 1925

january 21 1926 vita writes

I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this—But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it …

and on january 26 virginia writes back

Your letter from Trieste came this morning—But why do you think I don’t feel, or that I make phrases? ‘Lovely phrases’ you say which rob things of reality. Just the opposite. Always, always, always I try to say what I feel. Will you then believe that after you went last Tuesday—exactly a week ago—out I went into the slums of Bloomsbury, to find a barrel organ. But it did not make me cheerful … And ever since, nothing important has happened—Somehow its dull and damp. I have been dull; I have missed you. I do miss you. I shall miss you. And if you don’t believe it, you’re a longeared owl and ass. Lovely phrases? …

from virginia’s diary, about vita on december 21 1925

I like her and being with her and the splendour–she shines in the grocer’s shop in Sevenoaks with a candle lit radiance, stalking on legs like beech trees, pink glowing, grape clustered, pearl hung.

from virginia woolf’s to the light house

What device for becoming, like waters poured into one jar, inextricably the same, one with the object one adored? Could the body achieve, or the mind, subtly mingling in the intricate passages of the brain? or the heart? Could loving, as people called it, make her and Mrs Ramsay one? for it was not knowledge but unity that she desired, not inscriptions on tablets, nothing that could be written in any language known to men, but intimacy itself, which is knowledge, she had thought, leaning her head on Mrs Ramsay’s knee. Nothing happened. Nothing! Nothing! as she leant her head against Mrs Ramsay’s knee. And yet, she knew knowledge and wisdom were stored up in Mrs Ramsay’s heart.

Love had a thousand shapes. There might be lovers whose gift it was to choose out the elements of things and place them together and so, giving them a wholeness not theirs in life, make of some scene, or meeting of people (all now gone and separate), one of those globed compacted things over which thought lingers, and love plays.

there forced themselves upon her other things, her own inadequacy, her insignificance, keeping house for her father off the Brompton Road, and had much ado to control her impulse to fling herself (thank Heaven she had always resisted so far) at Mrs Ramsay’s knee and say to her—but what could one say to her? “I’m in love with you?” No, that was not true. “I’m in love with this all,” waving her hand at the hedge, at the house, at the children. It was absurd, it was impossible

(fun fact: the spanish translation adds something that i’d translate as “one could not say what one meant / what one wanted to say”, which i really like and i was disapointed to find out isnt on the english edition)

It was love, she thought, pretending to move her canvas, distilled and filtered; love that never attempted to clutch its object; but, like the love which mathematicians bear their symbols, or poets their phrases, was meant to be spread over the world and become part of the human gain. So it was indeed. The world by all means should have shared it

from the great gatsby

I didn’t want to go to the city. I wasn’t worth a decent stroke of work but it was more than that—I didn’t want to leave Gatsby. I missed that train, and then another, before I could get myself away (…) Just before I reached the hedge I remembered something and turned around. ‘They’re a rotten crowd,’ I shouted across the lawn. ‘You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.’ I’ve always been glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever gave him

from kafka’s diaries

may 27 1911: Today is your birthday, but I am not even sending you the usual book, for it would be only pretence; at bottom I am after all not in position to give you a book. I am writing only because it is so necessary for me today to be near you for a moment

parts from a from a letter he wrote to oskar pollak on february 4 1902

When we talk together the words are hard; we tread over them as if they were rough pavement. The most delicate things acquire awkward feet and we can’t help it. We’re almost in each other’s way; I bump into you and you - I don’t dare and you. When we come to things that are not exactly cobblestones or the Kunstwart, we suddenly see that we are in masquerade, acting with angular faces (especially me, I admit), and then we become sad and bored. Does anyone make you as bored as I do?

then I fall silent and you fall silent and you become bored, and I become bored and it’s all like a stupid hangover and there’s no use lifting a hand. But neither wants to say this to the other, out of shame or fear or - You see, we are afraid of each other, or I am.

Of course I understand it. It’s boring to stand for years in front of an ugly wall and it just won’t crumble away. Of course, but the wall is afraid for itself, fro the garden (if there is one), and you get out of sorts, yawn, have headaches, don’t know where to turn

You often talk with her, not only for the sake of talking. You walk around with her somewhere here or there, or in Roztok, and i sit at my desk at home. You talk with her, and in the middle of a sentence somebody jumps up and makes a bow. That is me with my untrimmed words and angular faces. That lasts only a moment, and then you go on talking. I sit at my desk at home and yawn. I’ve been trhough it already. Wouldn’t that separate us? Is that so strange? Are we enemies? I am very fond of you

from his leters to milena

Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

jane wong. from clearing

We want to believe everything has meaning.Plums blossom over a power grid

and I am in love again. The shame of it.

from leslie harrison’s [sirens]

I’m not Penelope married to faith married to waitingbound in fine soft strands of silk dyed and stretchedin my world longing has teeth and fins has a tastefor blood longing is a room built entirely of knives

Lorde’s melodrama tour interlude

Don’t you wish you could go inside a heart, see the strings and atrium’s, everything beating and bleeding. It’s kind of funny, I spend almost every minute thinking about love. Being guided, and divided by love. But I’ve never seen it. It’s just a rumour, a comedown, an afterglow. I wanna see it, in colour. In the summer, I can almost picture it

from Andrea Long Chu’s on liking women

One day, you tell yourself, it will give you what you want. Then, one day, it doesn’t. Now it dawns on you that your object will probably never give you what you want. But this is not what’s disappointing, not really. What’s disappointing is what happens next: nothing. You keep your object. You continue to follow it around, stash it in a drawer, water it, tweet at it. It still doesn’t give you what you want—but you knew that. You have had another realization: not getting what you want has very little to do with wanting it. Knowing better usually doesn’t make it better. You don’t want something because wanting it will lead to getting it. You want it because you want it

ada limón, In a Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me

But love is impossible and it goes ondespite the impossible. You’re the muscleI cut from the bone and still the boneremembers, still it wants (so much, it wants)the flesh back, the real thing,if only to rail against it, if onlyto argue and fight, if only to missa solve-able absence.

i dont think i need to get into mitski songs because you probably already know but basically pink in the night/come into the water/once more to see you/in happy when she says if you’re going take the train so i can hear it rumble one last rumble/in i want you from the first verse to the first time she goes “i just need a quiet place where i can scream how i love you” (YES the card thing is very important)/the first verse of i will (w emphasis on everything you feel is good i f you wold only let you)/abbey/strawberry blond

sufjan steven’s futile devices obviously predatory wasp of the palisades you know the drill

was going to find some twin fantasy lyrics but i started thinking about famous prophets (minds) and like. emotionally left my body so. i wont be thinking about it or any other songs anymore it makes me too crazy

from frances ha

It’s that thing when you’re with someone and you love them and they know it and they love you and you know it but it’s a party and you’re both talking to other people and you’re laughing and shining and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes. But not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual, but because that is your person in this life and it’s funny and sad but only because this life will end and it’s this secret world that exists right there. In public. Unnoticed. That no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.

from ellen lee’s notes on twin fantasy that i revisit constantly

there’s no going back to deliver these words to the ones they were really meant for. That’s how heartbreak feels, I guess. It feels like your heart in between the teeth of someone who’s looking away. When you’ve lost your loved object, what happens to all the things you have to say to them? When they’re turned away, what happens to all the things that you couldn’t, but desperately need(ed) to, say to their face? He dissociates himself from his own romance until it becomes a fantasy. You have your bleeding heart, you have a finite set of memories — when nothing new enters and you’re unwilling to let go, then you have a fantasy. The loved object enters into you and transforms.

the journey home by dermot bolger(havent read this at all dont really plan to/dont know a thing about it either i just came across this shit like 2 years ago and i still think about it)

I wanted to hurt him; I wanted just to touch him. What I wanted I’m not really sure. If he had stopped and opened his arms I would have walked towards him; I would have sat on the kerb all night with him

adam b, sweet i have a (really gay) heart

i feel like my body is the extension of a lake. i feel really badabout not telling you the truth, sometimes. i feelreally small next to you. tall boys remind me of bean stalks.i wish i had your legs. i wish i could know your handsbefore i even touch them

aaaand i think that’s all i could think of and track down, hope this is actually helpful and not too long (i am indecisive no kidding). also ksjdfg it’s nice that you thought to ask me this and i did have fun going over all these quotes so thank you 💖💖💖

#answered #i hope this fits what you were looking for!!#and i hope read mores are working on mobile djfgk #c #thing #Anonymous

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talesfromacrip · 4 years

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more ehh thoughts (recent edition):

w o w

can’t even speak my damn mind anymore in this house I guess without getting the whole, ‘get out then if you don’t like it here. look for a section 8 place and blah, blahhhh’ speech.

the signature speech of my parents when I get on their ‘last nerves’..

all just for speaking my mind. lovely

all bc I said something in regards to something political my dad was talking about. then saying black lives matter after bc it was also apart of the conversation

(which is my opinion)

that word doesn’t sit well in my parents ears.. my dad to be specific apparently.

he then started saying I should just look for somewhere else to go and that if I say that again, something will happen. (not anything violent on me,but make me leave to somewhere else type of happen )

guess my parents (specifically my dad) wants me dead if he wants me to go out and find somewhere else to go. it’s not like, idk, i have a fucking immunocompromised system or anything like that ya know?? also.... during a fucking pandemic as well ?? helllloooo, old man?? i just don’t know anymore sometimes with my parents

caught me off guard a bit and hurt really fucking bad.. like, wow. if that’s how you feel, then let me go which you won’t and won’t admit.

used to it though which is silly to say, but I can’t do anything much about it even if i tried. so, I must deal for now anyway I can.

we settled our differences though which, I’m glad, but I hate that I was the first one to do it. shows how it is in my family at times

at least my mom and few friends are on my side. ridiculous to be treated like this for having a fucking opinion.

doesn’t help either to get teased about it. like I haven’t been most of my life already ya know, shit.

sick of this house sometimes. the people in it, I should say.. sigh

———

I feel like I’m not, as ‘feminine’ as a lady should be. adds to my existing body probsss

can’t put makeup on. can’t get my nails done. can’t use bath bombs. can’t use facial creams or certain acne products. can’t buy clothes I’d like to shape my body and whatnot.. it goes onnnn. I would like to do what a lady likes to feel/look her absolute best ya know.

I can’t though. trying?????which doesn’t really go anywhere much tbh

I have an unused makeup palette and lippies going to absolute waste in my drawer.

which, cost me gooood money bc gooood brand. treat myself.

to see it go to waste though,is heartbreaking...

I could be using it now during the pandemic,but I have no one to help me with it. I can’t do it myself with my fucked up arms/hands either so that’s a nope.

my mom won’t help me and I’ve asked. she has more important things to do than make me look like a little clowns spawn.

I have so many ideas and I can’t execute them as I’d like. never can and it hurts. maybe on a drawimg, but having it applied to your face is a much better experience. very relaxing as well,but to take off.. that’s a process

doesn’t help that I’m told I’d look better with it as well, which totally helps my self esteem ya know. "it suits your moon face and covers those acne bits.."

fucking hell.. like, let me be.

guess not though it seems :lllllll

I feel gross about my skin.. dry and flaky at times from my medication and bc my body is a lil ass. it’s fucking oily on occasions as well.. ughhh. a whole nightmare, in my opinion

small acne scars,pimples from an imbalanced body in miscellaneous spots and places where they shouldn’t be.. I hate it.

I cannot look at myself without wanting to scream sometimes. I just stare and flip through a plethora of thoughts until I’m sitting there watching myself cry

I can’t buy the right skin products without suffering a break out or some kind of allergic reaction either. that’s how ‘sensitive’ i am.. ughh and people think it’s sooo fucking easy to take care of your skin.

help me out then and do it for me instead of telling me when I’ve said why I couldn’t in the first place..

fucking shit

I use to do my nails and paint them different colors almost every other week or so when I was younger. that was when I could move them to a certain extent. now i just can’t much for that. maybe?but I don’t want to risk twisting my wrist again. which, oddly helped a bit, but I’m not risking it

can’t even paint my right hand without leaning into a terrible spine position bc of my curled in fingers. it’s "so easy" though.my big ass it is

so, I just leave them bare nowadays

I have chipped and or broken nails anyway from fidgeting and anxiety. so, that’ll get in the way when they’re colored

sigh

bath bombs are the most elegant form of hygienic self care. a bubbly concoction for your skin to dip in.. ughhhh. sounds so relaxing and funnn

can’t sit in a fucking tub though to enjoy it and I don’t have the walk in ones. just a plain walk in shower. every time I see someone post about them, I melt inside. so pretty with the glitter fragments and the colorsss...mm

how I wish I could endure a porcelain tub to soak and forget about the world for a moment.

I can dream, but that still hurts as well.

I used to wear slim fitting tops for my stomach bc I was one of the chubby ones ya know.

now, I want to use them more bc my body doesn’t look how I thought it would be at my age. due to medication and lack of movement, just made it worse and it’s not my fault. feels like it is though and I tried. still am and it’s been hard lately with the pandemic. massive buying spells again so, some healthy goods are not available.

apparently though it seems nowadays being ‘thicc’ is in when years before it was absolutely frowned upon.

I got teased for being ‘thicc’ and now I’m somewhat getting praised for it?? kinda weird circus did I buy tickets for? unless I didn’t??

like, what do y’all mean, now it’s in????? stop being such a rude wad of shit and quit playing with people like this.

I don’t know what to accept much anymore and it’s bothers me so damn much

even if you do get praised,you must meet the standards. with some that is, I should say. must be at least some sort of skinny. some sort of, shaped being that I don’t really want to explain bc I feel it’s obvious.

some disabled folks are almost never in this section and when so, seems very fetishized.

hopefully this paints a small picture or whatever size you prefer your canvas to be. I’ve already talked about my body and more like this just gets me upset

———

uggh why are people still making stupid party plans, going to crowded places and doing other irresponsible shit... during a fucking pandemic?? It’s literally s o fucking irritating.

these people do not grasp this it seems, but ooooooohhh. gotta go out and risk it for someone who doesn’t even care about my health,others and even themselves.

fucking dumb

funny to see them complain about being home and all bc of this. like, how do you think I’ve felt and countless other disabled folks like me? sucks h u h. no freedom to go anywhere for risk of a fucking accident or worse, d e a t h.

it’s easy as hell to stay home and keep yourself occupied but apparently it’s a big ass deal

read, write, draw, cook, c l e a n. go out in your, idk, backyard as your outside relief?? is it really that b a d of a need to go somewhere??

especially when eventually it’ll drain you and you’ll eventually go back h o m e anyway ??t’s ridiculous.

"you should be thankful you can even go out."

yeah, to appointments, groceries, and concerts o n l y.

I don’t have the fucking privilege to go out at my own leisure and when I do, I have to plan like a mf.

it’s not easy. can’t drive. van is always busting on us. parents are my only source of a ride. can’t even generally go out anywhere bc of stupid stairs and all that.

I swear. every time I see a friend, mutual or family put something like that.. irritates me. I wanna comment so bad,but I don’t want to start anymore drama.

maybe soon I will. who fucking knows

———

i miss shows and all, but I just don’t as much.

I’m paranoid to think of going to future ones now..

I’ve already missed a majority of concerts my whole childhood and teen years due to my disability.

I don’t want to miss out on my young adult life now that I’m somewhat in a ‘better state’ bc some of y’all don’t want to be cautious and follow rules.

shows are therapeutic for me, but idk anymore now if it’s makimg me like this

disabled folks like myself who enjoy these shows are in so much fucking danger, it’s ridiculous.

we already were anyways with moshing and all.. which I know some act like they don’t know.

y’all are so desperate to go like, what about the other fandom folks who can’t even attend these shows though?? sad

these lives performances some artists have been doing are perfect and we need to support them more with this format. encourage the fuck out of them like the do to us with their music and whatnot.

I was so fucking thankful DGD did one.

it was a great time, but not so great when everyone is like, but what about an ‘actual show’?

it’s just, never enough with some of the fans I swear. irritating

yeahhh ,lets risk the fuckin band/bands getting sick so they can play for us. yasssss. shows how much they read up on the members and care about their health/wellbeing.

———

being sober brings back a lot of suppressed memories. nights are bit hard when going through this

makes me remember quite a bit of conversations that others have probably or most likely have forgotten by now as well

irritating and sad. that’s how I get some of my dreams as well which cause lack of sleep at timessss y a y

———

I, over share too much at times it seems.. how the hell do people want to know me though????

if I’m making the situation, odd or whatever, fucking tell me instead of ignoring it and trying to move on with some stupid shit

if I can fucking sit through y’alls oversharing.. can with fucking mine

———

I hate how everything that’s so wholesome and genuine I see, I can barely even do and say..

I especially hate how I imagine it with someone who deserves better. this is wearing me out I swear to fucking god

I put some of my eggs in the wrong basket.. again

ohhh fucking boooyyy

least it’s a good basket..

———

sometimes I feel so uneducated when taking with friends. my mind is like a fucking mad libs book on new game plus.

it’s blanks out and replaces important vocabulary with some silly childish shit instead

#therapy journal #uhhh

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amourete-blog1 · 7 years

Text

(( in which felide is a catalyst for this hell we call a relationship to actually work

tagging: @trolljacksparrow @hereticalsym69ls @roseredmutant

aberrantcadenza I'm trying to assume good faith here, so bear with me, but... did you ever have any intention of actually tolerating Lil?

trolljacksparrow i did/do my post wwasnt a judgment of him on a...it wwas not meant to imply that he is a bad person, because i dont think that, it wwas meant to state that he cant argue to savve his life arguing/debating wwith him is pointless because his analogies vverge into the barely-connected and ridiculous, not only the limeblood/tyfora thing but that time he compared pale assault to howw the signless tried to change alternia and he argues only about things he is emotional about, and hes got 10 vvioletbloods wworth of temper, wwhich just turns the arguement into yelling until he is physically separated from his devvice like nothing wwill get done???? its pointless, it wwill just bring stress to evveryone invvolvved and make evveryone upset??? givve people loww moodswwings?? wwhats the point im not dragging him to you - like, im not saying im any better wwhatsoevver lmao try havving an arguement wwith me about slavvery and see wwhere that wwill get you - i am saying wwhy i said wwhat i said. and i stand by it. sparks shouldnt havve engaged him because he sees evvery question as a deliberate antagonism instead of a misunderstanding/asking for clarification. wwas my remark timed badly? probably yes. could i havve done better? also yes. did i say it /solely/ because i disagree wwith him? no. thats wwhy i didnt just say 'ok ill stop' to xanthe, because he said im only doing it cause i dont like him and that wwas incorrect.

aberrantcadenza And yet everything you've said has had the same terse tone of malice? And you're here admitting that you're no better, and... making no attempt to change or help it? There are so many other ways to make the same point and I know Artifex says "Nadaya is a salt pillar," but I also know Nadaya as a kindhearted rebel who is trying his best to be the best lover he can, and for that reason I'm actually genuinely *baffled* that you would continue this, since it appears to be no accident. To outline exactly the implications of this situation: Xanthe has been sitting, totally unresponsive, for a full day and night, and yet another day. He won't speak. He won't express and he won't eat. You may not like Lil, and you're allowed that much, but if you think for one second that somehow takes precedence over your relationship with Xanthe then you and he need to have a serious talk about priorities. In a time like this I would ask you to consider how you would feel, if someone insulted one of your lovers, whether or not that insult was valid if delivered in that same tone.

trolljacksparrow wwhat the fuck is up wwith xanthe wwhat the wwhat the fresh hell caused this

aberrantcadenza Well, considering the only thing that impacted his rather good mood at the time was that entire thread of conversation... And considering, also, that like I said, he's not talking, I can only assume that's it.

trolljacksparrow really my grand total of 2 replies caused a /shutdowwn/ ivve argued wwith lil before and nothing like this happened are you sure

aberrantcadenza "Entire thread of conversation" - meaning not just you.

trolljacksparrow oh, wwhat other convversation? are you sure it isnt like....the thing the brain thing

aberrantcadenza He was with me at the time. Although Hellen did have some influence, that wasn't all that caused it. I don't think you're wholly at fault. I don't think Lil is either, nor Hellen, nor Artifex. I *do* think that your general attitude of apathy towards a rather important matter and your insistence to continue to make passes at Lil even after you've said you were trying to make peace is a relevant issue, even if it's not the sole cause of his shutdown. Which I never said it was, only that it had an impact.

trolljacksparrow to clarify - terse tone of malice wwas uninentonal, i wwas a bit tired that he said i only spoke up because i dont like lil no i dont think it takes precedence lmao wwhat evven??? i /am/ trying to get better though, i dont usually engage things i knoww wwill make me mad, and i knoww howw to control my anger far better than he does - i only mentioned it so you wwouldnt think im acting holier-than-thou

aberrantcadenza Okay. That helps.

trolljacksparrow ......hellen????????

aberrantcadenza ... Fuck.

trolljacksparrow ???

aberrantcadenza *The brain thing.

trolljacksparrow OH ...i can check if its hellen, and removve ..her? influence, if i see him

aberrantcadenza You can do that?

trolljacksparrow yes rogue of hope i did it before im basically a buff/debuff support but for people's wwills

aberrantcadenza Although that title has no meaning to me, I recognize at least the um. Rogue? part as a "god" title(???) ... But if you can do that, yes. I think you should, and I'll invite you here to do it. We're on Alternia right now and no one can come here without explicit invitation* (*Or else their insides melt) But. When I mentioned "dislike of Lil taking precedence over your relationship with Xanthe," what I mean is that you'd rather hold onto that dislike in a kind of petty way than let it go in favor of letting Xanthe have longer than a week of peace. I know now that you said what you did because you were tired, but please... As your friend and as your metamour, I am *begging* you to think just a little bit more about this, to consider what you want and what you're willing to give for it. If this is how you get when you're tired, *please* clarify that. Where miscommunications happen and people are hurt there is still time to make amends and try to right unintentional harm done. If you want to write a message to Lil explaining that, I will ensure he gets it. I will go to the ends of this multiverse to make sure this relationship works because I care about you. All of you. ... Buff?

trolljacksparrow ...wwhats a metamour?

aberrantcadenza We have mutual lover. So, through Xanthe, you are my metamour, and vice-versa.

trolljacksparrow .......thats adorable okay that wwas a vvideogame metaphor basically i can sense people's wwill/hope and either take it or imbue it

aberrantcadenza :00 Damn.

trolljacksparrow alright howwevver, wwhat am i supposed to do wwhen The Shit happens again, as it inevvitably wwill? also - you think that getting him to unblock me just to read a message dressing him dowwn for his arguement skills is a good idea? really?

aberrantcadenza The point of this hypothetical message isn't to dress him down. It's to explain what you meant vs what may have been perceived, because whether or not you intended for it to be worded harshly, it came across that way. Disengage. If you see things start to go south, disengage. If you feel it's appropriate to do so, apologize and step back. If you don't trust yourself but things still need to be resolved, get me or Xanthe.

trolljacksparrow i mean...you knoww thats howw hell percievve it, especially coming from me "hey i didnt mean to be petty i just meant you suck at arguing"

aberrantcadenza As I said: I will go to the ends of this multiverse to make sure this relationship works. If clarification is needed, I will provide it. I'll help you edit your message to be seamless. I will ensure Lil doesn't take it the wrong way. I would vouch for both of you until the day I cease existing.

trolljacksparrow thats some serious determination oh, are you gonna invvite me or?

aberrantcadenza :??

trolljacksparrow to the alternia

aberrantcadenza Yeah. ... Just think about what I said, please?

trolljacksparrow yeah?

aberrantcadenza It doesn't have to be now.

trolljacksparrow i wwill i should probably send that message wwhen im /not/ solar-flare furious at him for upsetting my belovved though

aberrantcadenza I cordially invite you to come visit us, etc. etc. I don't think these invitations need a set format, but if they do, you're invited. -- [althivecoords.txt] --

trolljacksparrow aight omww

aberrantcadenza Lmao, *you're* furious? Keep your anger to a minimum. Do what you need to do to make that happen. We're doing this for Xanthe.

trolljacksparrow wwhy do you think im not engaging???????

aberrantcadenza Just making sure we're hardened-sediment clear.

#ooc post #trolljacksparrow #hereticalsym69ls #roseredmutant #/#log archives

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