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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 3 months

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Just you and me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, fluff, a little bit of everything

Background: You, Carlos and Charles are at a Ferrari event. You came with your longtime best friend Carlos, and Charles brought with him the girl he's currently seeing, even though he's not really interested in anyone else but you. You and Charles have liked each other ever since you met, but you've never gotten into anything serious. You were always seeing other people on the side and that was fine for both of you until you realized that you fell for him.

Y/n's pov

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" Carlos asks kneeling down in front of me. "Hey, are you okay?" He asks again noticing another tear roll down my face.

I honestly don't want to talk to him right now. I don't wanna talk to anybody. I feel pathetic because I'm letting myself feel this way again over a guy. It's humiliating. But it's not Charles' fault. It's no one's fault but mine. I should be in control of my own feelings but here I am yet again letting my mood depend on others. It seems that the more you resist certain things, the more they hurt.

"Look at me." Carlos says lifting up my chin making me look at him but I quickly look away.

"I'd really appreciate if you could leave me be with myself right now."

"I will if you tell me who made you cry?" He takes off his blazer and wraps it around me.

"I made myself cry." I sob putting my palms over my face. I can't wait to look myself in the mirror and see black mascara all over my face. Luckily the amount of alcohol in my system tells me to not give a shit about it.

"Why you two do this to each other, I'll never understand." He sighs.

"He went home with her?" I dare to ask even though I'm not sure if I want to hear the answer.

"She wasn't feeling well so he took her home, but-"

"There you are, fuck I'm looking-"

Charles. He took her home, but he'll be back. Feeling of relief and feeling of anger are fighting inside of me when I see him.

Without saying a word, Carlos stands up and leaves us alone on the terrace. I immediately stand up and head after Carlos not wanting to look at Charles, but before I can leave he tightly grabs my wrist and pulls me to him.

"Let go." I say through my teeth.

"No." He says coldly not breaking the eye contact. "What's wrong? Are you crying because I left with her?"

I laugh at his question. How dares he? "Crying because of you? You're not worthy of that, Charles." I obviously lie yanking my wrist out of his grip.

"See I don't think you're telling the truth." He takes a step closer to me leaving a small gap between us. "I know that just the thought of me being close to her or touching her.." Oh my God my heart literally aches picturing them in my head.

"Stop.." I whisper quietly squinting my eyes desperately wanting to erase it from my mind.

"It makes your blood boil." He says looking down at me. "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

"What?"

"C'mon," He takes a strand of my hair and puts it behind my ear. "We both know we can't stop thinking about each other. Whose blazer is on you?"

"It's Carlos'." Right as the words leave my mouth, he takes it off of me making it fall to the ground and the cold breeze hits my skin.

"Come with me." He takes my hand again, but I stop him.

"No, Charles, I don't wanna go with you." I lie, but he ignores me. "I'll scream, I swear-"

"Go ahead, scream. The press is just waiting for some interesting shit to happen. I'm sure you'll make the headlines tomorrow morning." He cuts me off and I have nothing to say back at him.

I follow him out of the terrace through the long corridor to the elevator. The elevator takes us up to the top floor of the hotel. We get out and Charles pulls a card out of his pocket unlocking the door of the hotel suite.

As we step inside, Charles takes off his blazer throwing it onto the bed and I go straight to the huge glass wall that has an exit to the balcony. The only light in the room was the one that came from the outside and I didn't mind. I cross my arms looking at the city lights outside not knowing what to do nor how to act. I'm so tired, emotionally tired. I don't have the energy to argue, to scream, I don't even have the energy to fight back or try to prove my point over anything anymore. I am tired of feeling this way.

I feel his arms on my waist as he appears behind me. He places a soft kiss on my shoulder and then on my neck making me close my eyes and lean my head on the opposite side so that now he has a full access to it.

I let out a small whimper as his left hand travels from my waist to the front side of my neck gently gripping it his rings leaving cold traces on my skin.

"Fuck, y/n.." He breathes out. "I want you so bad, you don't even realize." As he says that he presses himself against me and I can feel how hard he already is.

He spins me around and crashes his lips on mine and in that moment I completely give in. I forget what I was mad at him about. I decide not to overthink this, I just want to surrender to this moment and honestly I don't want it to ever end. Even if I wanted to resist this I couldn't. I want him more than anything and I want him to make me his even though in my mind I've been his from the first day we met.

He deepens our kiss as his tongue swipes lightly over mine. His hand finds its way over my thigh to my panties passing with his fingers over the thin damp fabric. He pulls them to the side with his two fingers and slowly starts rubbing my clit in circles as I lean my head in the crook of his neck.

"You're dripping, fuck..Look at me." He whispers and lifts up my chin with his other hand making me look him in the eyes. "You're so wet for me baby. Tell me, tell me what do you want me to do?"

"Charles..." I don't feel confident enough to say profanities back to him, but hearing him talking that way was music to my ears.

"Tell me what you want baby. I want to hear you. Do you want me to finger you?" He asks and I nod digging my nails into his skin.

"Finger me, please." my mouth fall open unable to say anything as his fingers hastily start going in and out of me.

"I really wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but you're making it too difficult for me." I moan at his words and at the loss of touch as he pulls his fingers out of me just to push them back inside. "Open your mouth." I obediently do as he orders and puts his fingers in my mouth. I suck on them paying special attention to his middle finger without taking my eyes off of his.

"Fuck baby..Look what you're doing to me. I'm so hard for you it fucking hurts." He mutters under his breath stroking his cock through his pants that looked as if they were about to snap open under the pressure. We continue to kiss passionately ripping off the clothes from one another.

"Please baby don't make me beg." He throws his head backwards desperate for my touch.

I start kissing his neck and unbuttoning his pants at the same time. He cups my cheeks as I slowly start pulling his boxers down his legs. My knees hit the floor and I don't waste any time as I put him in my mouth. Charles' moans intensifies when I look him up in the eyes.

"Fuuuuck." The eye contact almost sends him over the edge. It drives him completely crazy. "Baby, I'm gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that." But I want him this way, crazy over me, craving my touch as much as I'm craving his. He pulls my hair into a ponytail and pushes me deeper on his cock hitting the back of my throat. I gag around him making him moan in pleasure and he slowly pushes his cock all the way down my throat again enjoying the view.

"Fuck, I can't hold back anymore. I need to be inside of you. Come here." He breathlessly pulls me up by my elbows and presses me against the glass wall. He lifts up my dress and my right leg with one hand and with the other he pulls my panties aside thrusting himself into me.

"Charles we're at the window. Somebody could see us."

"Good. Then everybody will finally know how much you're mine." I feel warmth in my stomach at his words. God, it feels so good to hear them. "Do you want this?" He asks. I nod whimpering, but the answer doesn't satisfy him. "I need to hear you."

"I want it, I want you." I manage to say.

"Are you close?"

"Yeah, I'm so close Charles" I squeal digging my nails into the skin on his back.

"Me too baby, where do you want it?"

"Inside, cum inside me. Fill me up." The words that I whisper into his ear alone are enough to make his eyes roll and release his cum deep inside me. My legs start to shake and he quickly catches me holding me tightly in his embrace and leaving kisses all over my face.

"From now on it's just you and me okay? No one else, just you and me. No more messing around. I only want you y/n. I always have."

"Just you and me."

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader

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m00nsbaby · 9 months

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Sleepwalking. (Already over II)

Steven Grant ( + Marc Spector) x F! Reader.

First part: Already Over.

Next part: Clumsy.

Tags & warnings. Angst, like, just angst. Steven hurts his hand at the beggining so there's blood involved, Marc is kind of a... jerk.

Word count. 3.8k

Summary.

What a shame, what a shame, what a shame, It's all fun and games 'til you don't wanna play now. Run away, run away, run away, It's easy to say but it's harder to say now. You're onto something else, I'm a picture left on your shelf. The dream's a lie I tell myself Feel like I'm sleepwalking when you're gone.

The moment the bomb detonated was more horrible than Marc had imagined. Not only because of Steven, who in his mind was the worst of his problems, but because the moment you closed the door behind you, it felt as if you had taken his heart with you.

Marc collapsed on the floor, unable to cry, even if he wanted to. He wasn't like Steven; he couldn't just let it flow, but at this moment, it seemed more like he was in shock.

He wondered, did that really happen or am I just dreaming?

His body tensed for a few seconds; he closed his eyes tightly, and before he could protest, Steven had taken control of the body. He had struggled so hard to keep him in the shadows that his body felt exhausted, with a horrible burning sensation in his muscles.

"Marc?" he questioned out loud, still on the floor. "Marc? What did you do?"

There was no response, and he could only swallow hard as if it would help wash away the bad taste in his mouth.

"What did you do, Marc?" Sometimes the best part of having Steven was having a way to express his pain. By the third time he asked, his voice was already broken, his vision blurred by the tears that threatened to come out at any moment.

Finally, the other one had the courage to respond.

"L-Layla knows," was the only thing that sounded in the headspace.

"How am I going to fix this, Marc?" Memories of what happened just a few minutes ago came to him in flashes; he didn't have the whole conversation because Marc had forced him to stay in the shadows.

The mere image of your heartbroken gaze was enough to cause nightmares for the rest of his life, whether he managed to fix Marc's mistake or not.

"I don't care; I don't care about her!" He sobbed with anger coursing through him from head to toe. At this point, his pain seemed more physical than emotional. He felt exactly like that time when he was impaled multiple times in Cairo.

But worse. At that time, he had a suit to protect him. How would he deal with this now without anything to shield him?

"You can't go on like this, Steven, we can't…"

As if his body moved automatically, he headed for the nearest mirror, the one where you had sought him out for help. His hands stopped on the edge of the sink, and he stared fixedly at himself in the mirror.

Tears flowed freely, seeking to heal a wound the size of his chest.

"I hate you," he whispered with a voice shattered, Marc looked back at him trying to maintain his composure. The pain of a broken heart combined with his constant battle with pride; he would never admit that he might be wrong. "You ruined it, Marc, you ruined everything."

"I did? I ruined everything?" Marc's ironic laughter made his blood boil. "I told you a damn million times, Steven!" The screams made him startle, but he was determined to hide his weakness. He was finally ready to face him. "I told you to stay away from her; was it fair to snatch away the one thing I have?"

Steven's fist went straight to the mirror. He didn't break it, but he shattered the reflection of Marc into many small pieces, and his knuckles were bleeding in a matter of seconds.

"My life is made to support yours." When Steven's fixed gaze met his, Marc had time to question how they had come to this after supposedly fixing things. Was this also his entire fault? "And I understood it, I swear to God I did." Sometimes he had to pause to sniff through his nose. "All I've done is give everything for you, and you took away everything I had."

There was only silence from the other side of the mirror.

"You took her away from me, Marc." His voice gradually lowered; suddenly, he reverted to the old Steven, with a broken heart and his guard down. The one that made him think so much of his younger brother. "What do I have in life if it's not her?"

More silence. Of course, Steven was in the same predicament as him, clinging to something that brought them happiness.

The difference was that for him, it wasn't exactly Layla.

"We were happy with Layla." His broken voice was barely perceptible.

"You were happy." He looked at his fingers, as the blood continued to run through them. "You were happy with stability, happy hiding from problems with stupid adventures that make you forget how bad your life is outside of there."

The amount of resentment in his voice was terrifying. Painful.

"You were happy pretending to be someone you're not." He closed his eyes, letting the tears flow freely. "You were happy pretending I didn't exist."

"S-Steven, I, I, don't…"

There was no more conversation at that moment. Not for the rest of the day. Or the night. Marc was a silent witness to how Steven cried until his throat was raw, how his entire body trembled, and how an nauseating knot formed in his stomach, paralyzing all his muscles.

The next day was a nightmare worse than the previous one. For the first time in a long while, Steven was able to sleep the hours that a normal human needed to function, but the problem was that, of course, these hours had been filled with nightmares and dreams where only you were present. Waking up to the reality where everything was worse was an emotional burden that filled his eyes with tears in the first minutes of regaining consciousness.

Well, he had to start trying. He picked up his phone, the one you always teased him about because it was the oldest phone you had ever seen.

First call, first voicemail.

"Love? Could you answer the calls? I really need to talk to you, I'm so sorry for the things Marc said yesterday."

Second call, second voicemail.

"I'm so sorry, really, please, please answer, okay? I need you."

Third call, third voicemail.

"It was never my intention to hurt you," and yes, for a change, Steven was taking responsibility for Marc's mistakes. "And I know it wasn't his either, he's just… damaged and scared. Please, love, please, let's talk."

Fourth call, fourth voicemail.

"We can't throw away all our plans, love." He didn't fear that you could hear his sobs or the way he struggled for breath between sentences. "I want to be with you. I want to be with you until the last day of my life, please, please."

The fifth call didn't go through. It seemed like you had turned off your phone. Fifth voicemail.

"I know you don't want to see me right now." He had to clear his throat before speaking again. "I just want to talk to you. It's all I'm asking for, it doesn't have to be now, just give me a sign that I can come closer, I'm begging you."

He didn't give up. If it were up to his anxiety, his love, or his fear of abandonment, he would have called you a total of 20 times per hour. But he knew you wanted and needed space. All that was left was to pray that you would hear his messages and give him the slightest sign of life.

In the end, he returned to bed, laying face down, and closed his eyes for just a few seconds.

"Steven?"

"What?"

"The body."

"Huh?"

"Give me the body."

"What do you mean…?"

"I need to go talk to Layla."

"You must be kidding." Steven barely lifted his head to see the mirror resting on one of the furniture next to his bed.

The one he never touched because it had a lipstick mark from you in one corner. A perfectly formed kiss. There was Marc.

"Tell me you're joking."

"Give me the body or I will take it from you."

Steven had no strength to fight, he relented and hoped for a little peace in the darkness of his mind.

That afternoon, Marc apologized tirelessly, and yes, he preferred a million times to falsely accept that he had had an affair than to confess Steven's existence.

"Forgive me, okay? I made a mistake." His hands cradled Layla's face between them. Of course, he had made a mistake, although he didn't specify what kind.

"You're an idiot, Marc." And he couldn't help but think that yes, indeed, he was. There weren't many more words exchanged between them, but unfortunately, this relationship was an imbalanced scale.

It was about two people who simply didn't know how to deal with their emotions, didn't know how to communicate with each other, and undoubtedly had never dealt with their emotional baggage separately to understand that they needed to work to become better.

He couldn't help but notice the parallel. He doesn't remember the romantic part of your relationship with Steven because Steven himself took great care to hide it perfectly, but Marc is aware of every aspect of what your friendship was.

He remembers every argument, if they could even be called that. You two never raised your voices, never.

And you, as the apparent best friend, knew Marc's story inside out, you were never one to raise your voice, but you were always careful not to trigger a bad memory in Steven.

On his part, Steven was incredible at listening. He listened attentively, didn't interrupt, and when you finished talking, he would explain his perspective. You didn't always reach an agreement, that was obvious, but you always knew that you both were much more important to each other than any silly disagreement.

Marc thought about how he would have liked to be as honest as Steven was when Layla's lips were on him. When his way of clarifying things was to have the grossest sex of both their lives.

Usually, the best part of spending these kinds of nights with her was that it meant a mental break with you in exactly two days. Although Steven never understood why you refused to see him the next day, Marc always knew why you felt disgusted. In fact, he understood perfectly, but he never had the courage to tell you that he was sorry.

Thinking that not only were you in love with Steven but that you were also a couple fueled his self-disgust even more.

"I love you, Marc." That was the last thing he heard before leaving his wife's house, which at every moment felt more like a stranger to him.

He didn't respond, and like everyone else around him, she settled for it because everyone always accommodates themselves to Marc Spector's wishes.

Each passing hour, you were crumbling in a worse way. Probably "dead inside" was one of the best ways to describe your current state.

The stages of grief were starting to attack you, very slowly, but you didn't want to be rational because calling it "grief" would mean that you had lost Steven forever.

And you had, but you didn't want to think about that. After all, you were still in the first stage, denial.

It took you a few hours to decide to listen to his voicemails.

"My baby." You whispered to yourself as your arms clung to one of the many garments you had stolen from him. His navy blue sweater that was too long on the sleeves.

You felt ridiculous.

You sobbed forcefully, your cheek had been tingling for a while from the warmth and moisture of your tears on the pillow. Did the breakup hurt? Of course, it hurt to the core, but after hearing his broken voice on the other end of the line, what was probably hurting you the most was knowing that Steven was suffering.

It felt like they were being forcibly torn apart, although it had felt that way from the moment their relationship began. The rope had been tightening around each of you, pulling you apart at the cost of permanently hurting them.

You were sure you would never love anyone the way you loved and still love Steven. Steven would rather vanish than even imagine a life with someone else.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whispered as the fabric of his sweater covered part of your face, with the sole purpose of sniffing and recapturing a bit of his scent. The garment had been in your possession for so long that you could barely perceive Steven in it anymore.

You apologized for not being more discreet, for, in your opinion, ruining your perfect relationship, maybe for not knowing how to keep your distance when there was still time. You apologized for being so deeply in love that you felt like you couldn't live without him, for choosing to look out for yourself instead of running into his arms, and for any inconveniences you might have caused Marc one day.

Steven and you were on autopilot. Barely eating, barely breathing, barely existing.

You somehow managed to get up and shower after receiving the call from the pet adoption center confirming that the form you and Steven had filled out had been approved, and now you just had to go for 3 days, 2 hours to visit your future pet.

A part of you momentarily thought about ignoring the call, you were so broken that the mere thought of that visit together ended up squeezing your heart painfully, not to mention that the whole plan from the beginning was for the cat to belong to both of you.

Your rational side was always stronger than you, you couldn't leave the little one without a home. Besides, maybe you needed the company.

Perhaps he would do you good, and you would do everything possible to do right by him.

Needless to say, on the first day of bonding, you cried until your lungs hurt, with the little kitten in your arms. He was so affectionate, providing excellent comfort, but you didn't stop crying for a single moment during the 2 hours.

Then you cried more on the way back home because you had to say goodbye to him.

On the second day, you only cried half of the visit because when the cat started playing in front of you, it drew a small laugh from you for the way he twirled around.

On the last day, you found him waiting for you, ready to settle on your lap. It was as if he understood that you were exhausted, and his purring felt like receiving a hug. You were a perfect match.

Meanwhile, Marc was living days that were going from bad to worse. Steven refused to speak to him more than necessary, but everything hurt twice as much when the breakdowns started coming back. As he took another sip of his whiskey, he realized that this time he had nowhere to go, that he would probably never hear you say "I'm here" again to keep him sane, that your arms wouldn't surround him, and you wouldn't leave him a space in your bed that was a million times more comfortable than his. Accepting that he missed you churned his stomach. Because, of course, it wasn't the first time he had thought of you since you left, but it was the first time he lowered his guard enough to digest that all of this was his fault. That he had hurt you in a permanent way while you had only given him peace whenever you could. Steven understood that both of them were fucked up when he finally saw Marc cry. When Marc finally cracked.

Steven almost had a heart attack when he received a message from you. There was no text, just a photo of the kitten he recognized perfectly.

He wasn't aware of the smile that appeared on his face. One, he could see that the background of the photo was your apartment, which meant the kitten was already with you. Two, perhaps this meant that not everything was lost.

"Can I come see him?" He was biting his nails while waiting for your response. "Sure."

Steven left his apartment so quickly that his curls were still damp from the shower he took in a matter of seconds. He didn't care about being on the most crowded bus if it meant getting to your apartment faster.

Exactly 22 minutes after your message, he was standing at your door.

The smile on his face vanished when you opened the door. Both of you looked like a mess, in pain, and by this point, you had accepted that your eyes would be swollen and irritated for the rest of your days.

You didn't approach him for a hug like he thought would happen. You also took a few seconds to analyze him from head to toe.

He was as beautiful as ever. His messy curls made him look even more adorable. A meow echoed behind you, snapping you back to the present.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Please."

Everything was so… awkward. You stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him.

"Sekhmet?"

"Yes."

"I told you that's the name of a goddess, not a god," he said as he crouched down to pet the kitten, who seemed to recognize Steven. The little one rubbed against him, purring loudly, audible to both of you.

"And I told you I didn't care."

A nostalgic laugh escaped both of you. Why was all of this so difficult?

"Hello, Sekhmet." His pronunciation was perfect. You couldn't believe you had the love of your life in front of you after everything that happened.

And worse, you couldn't believe you were about to let him go, for the second time.

"He likes you." You whispered, watching them get to know each other with a lump in your throat. This was nothing like what you had imagined at first; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Everything was wrong.

"Steven?"

"Yes, love?" It rolled so casually off his tongue. You didn't remember Steven calling you by your name much, it was always "love" or "lovey" for him, and you were content with that.

This time, you felt a pang in your heart when he used the nickname.

"We have to do this." Your voice broke, and when he noticed your teary eyes, he understood the purpose of the visit. There was no way out of this.

"No, please." He looked up at you from the floor, still on his knees because the kitten refused to leave him. "Please, don't do this."

He broke down quickly too.

"I love you, Steven." Your hand went to his chin, holding him in a way that he couldn't look away from you. "And because I love you, it's only fair that we do this, you and I. Okay?"

He kept denying and denying. Ignoring the insistent meows, he stood up. Now you were the one who had to look up due to the difference in height.

Your heart rate increased with the closeness between you two.

"I don't want to say goodbye." The lump in his throat could be heard in his voice. "I don't want to be alone. I can't do it without you." You couldn't bear to tell him otherwise when you knew you were in the same position.

You stood on tiptoes and, without letting him continue, kissed his lips.

Even his kisses tasted like pain. They were desperate, almost violent in the way he clung to your waist and you to his neck.

You remained like that for a few minutes, tasting each other's tears on your lips until your lungs gave up. It felt like an eternity during which you exchanged kisses and embraced each other between sobs. It genuinely felt like you were tearing a part of yourselves away.

An eternity was not enough for either of you.

"Steven." Your hands on his chest pulled him away just a few centimeters from you to face him. His forehead rested against yours while he hiccuped from crying.

He was your little one. He always had been. Your sweet, sweet Steven. He deserved more than everything life was giving him, and in some way, you and Marc knew it.

"You have to go, okay?" He didn't respond, you just felt his fingers tighten their grip on your waist. "You will be fine, I know you will be." Your fingers roamed through his curls, messing them up even more, and you enjoyed their softness one last time.

"I won't be able to. L-Lovey, I w-won't…"

"Shhh. You will be able to, okay?" The tip of your nose gently brushed against his in an affectionate and intimate gesture. "You will get through this, and you will have the beautiful life that I've always known you deserve."

"I don't want it if it's not with you." His fingers crumpled your clothes from the force of holding onto you.

You lowered your hands to his and slowly made him let go, he shook his head again.

"You have to do this for Marc, okay?" You swallowed hard when his hands finally relented and let go of your waist. "And maybe, if it's meant to be, fate will let us know in the future. Okay?"

Bullshit.

You wanted to be with him now, and he wanted to be with you now, but you were grasping at every possible resource to try to make him understand.

"I need to be alone, okay?" You knew he wouldn't leave unless you hinted that you were uncomfortable with the situation.

Always so respectful, he took a step back and nodded, even though his hands were trembling. He didn't say anything, just looked at you as he stepped back again.

"I love you," you whispered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

"I love you." It was the only thing he could say. He was about to leave when his legs gave an awkward twitch.

Marc.

Steven looked down, frowning slightly at the momentary loss of control over his body. If Marc was going to object, now was the perfect time because Steven knew he was the only one who could fix this.

His stubbornness was the only obstacle preventing you from being happy.

And yes, Marc wanted to talk. But when he saw you, he knew he would never find the words to fix what he did.

His fear of change hit him again. Why was he regretting this when apparently this was what he wanted from the beginning?

He parted his lips and tried to say something that never came out of his throat. He gave up in seconds and basically fled your apartment, closing the probably happiest chapter of his life in a long time.

#jake lockley #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x you #moon boys x reader #moon system x reader #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader

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cas-kingdom · 5 months

Note

Can you please write Damon cheering up sis!reader by taking her out for some 1 on 1 time? Maybe even some grumbling from Stefan when they get back home lol ❤️

"If this is what you call a date, I want you to know I'm not impressed."

Damon Salvatore rolled his eyes to the high heavens and punted a stone across the grass. "Would you stop your grumbling? God," he said, "you try to do something nice."

You dragged your feet totally unnecessarily. "I'm tired."

"You wouldn't complain like this if it were Stefan, would you?" He stared straight at you, immediately noting the hesitation flit across your face. He stopped. "Would you, you little snake?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards and sticking your tongue out. Damon grit his teeth and surged forward, making a swipe for you. You easily darted out of the way but wasn't as lucky the second time, your brother catching your head in the crook of his arm and mussing your hair.

"You're a vampire," he said above your screaming, "you can't get tired. Ooh, bunny rabbit."

He let you go, stumbling, and approached the oblivious black rabbit. You recovered and grabbed his wrist before he could snatch the animal.

"No, no, no, don't." Damon gave you a look and your mirrored it. "Just let it exist, D."

"Fine, but when I'm hungry later and wanna snack on a passing tourist, don't come crying." You slapped his shoulder and he leaned down, beckoning to his back.

"Come on, get on." You merely blinked in response and he rolled his eyes once more. "Get on, or I'm leaving you behind." You, figuring this was the only way you were getting to the top of the mountain, jumped onto his back with all the grace of a baby elephant. Damon, ever the drama queen, groaned under the weight. "Damn, sis, how much do you weigh?"

You kicked his hips. "Walk on, ass."

Damon had hauled you out of the house that morning without allowing you—or Stefan—a word in edgeways. "It's a date," he'd said when you’d protested, "we're going on a date." Said date apparently included hiking up the tallest mountain in Virginia.

You moved faster now you were off the ground, hanging around his neck with your cheek against the back of his head. Your eyes followed the moving view until Damon got to the top and the trees cleared. You lifted your head and dropped down as he let go of your legs. "Woah."

"What'd I tell you, kiddo?"

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah, I—" A sharp trill pierced the quietude at the top of the answer and Damon grumbled, reaching into his pocket to yank out his phone. The name caused him to audibly roll his eyes "—aw, seriously?" He put the phone to his ear. "Hi, bro. No, bro, I haven't kidnapped our sister. We're having a dandy old time, thanks very much. She's fine, we're fine, the bunny's fine, and don't even think about coming after us because you're not invited. This is a date." And with that, the phone was turned on silent and pushed right back into his pocket.

You crossed your arms over your chest and grinned, one brow raised. "Eloquent."

Damon rolled his eyes and sat at the edge of the mountain. "Come here. Come on, I won't let you fall." He rose a brow playfully. "Maybe."

You gave him a look but came to sit beside him anyway, making extra sure to be close enough that if the wind blew a little too hard and you did topple over the edge, he'd be able to grab you in time.

"I brought you here when you were a kid, you know?" Damon thought about that. "Well, more of a kid than you are now, I mean."

"Yeah?"

"Yup. Carried you all the way up. You said your legs were tired." He jabbed you in the side. "Guess some things don't change."

“Hey, I walked up most of it by myself.” You jabbed back.

“Yet the question remains…will you walk down by yourself?” He rose his brows in question. You narrowed your eyes but didn't respond, prompting your brother to snort.

"What did I think of it then?" you asked. The views were gorgeous, but you doubted you’d appreciated them as much when you were younger.

"Absolutely no idea. You fell asleep on the way up." Damon didn't sound impressed. You grinned. "Seriously. Busted my ass climbing up that hill and you weren't even awake to see all this."

"You didn't wake me up?"

"You were a deep sleeper."

"Belated sorry."

"Accepted."

You leant against him, your shoulders touching. "That's why you wanted to come today?"

Damon shrugged. "Seems a shame not to see it at least once." He paused. "And to spend some time together." You glanced up at him. "What?"

You said nothing. You shook your head and rested it against his shoulder, reaching to take his hand in yours. "I missed you too, big brother."

TVD Masterpost

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cactusnymph · 5 months

Note

I don't have a specific prompt in mind, but could you write some t4t wyll x karlach? With any prompt that strikes your fancy

Wyll still hasn't gotten used to this new body. Karlach can still see him struggling to get a shirt over his head with the new horns, to get stuck in tight spaces or feel a ridge on his brown skin over and over again to make sure that it's supposed to be there and not something to worry about.

To an extend Karlach understands feeling like a stranger in your own body, but she had a lifetime to get used to hers, while Wyll's was changed in an instant without his consent. It's a horrifying thought to have this body that she made a home in be changed against her will like that, because she spent an entire childhood feeling like it was lacking something until she finally figured out what it was.

The infernal engine was bad enough, but it didn't change the way she looks by much, except for the constant glow in her chest. Aside from the foreign piece of machinery inside of her, Karlach likes this body. Likes all the scars she collected, likes the muscles and the fiery red skin, the shape of her eyes, her crooked index finger.

If Zariel had taken her tits, Karlach would have killed her long ago. She worked very hard to get those and she won't give them back.

Whenever she catches Wyll eying his own reflection, Karlach wants to step up to him and tell him that he's beautiful just the way he is, and that his heart hasn't changed and that he's still the most noble man Karlach has ever met. But she also knows that it doesn't work like that. You only get one body, one home for your soul to live in for the extent of your life.

Having that home violated like this, changed beyond recognition... She understands how much it hurts.

Next time she finds him gazing at a mirror Wyll's finger wanders along the contour of his ear as if he's trying to memorize the new shape of it.

"Hey soldier", she says with a smile and sits down next to him, her arm brushing against his. It's still a rush, to be able to touch people like this.

Wyll turns his head to smile at her. A flash of embarrassment crosses over his face because she caught him with the mirror but Karlach doesn't think there's anything to be ashamed of.

"Penny for your thoughts", Karlach says, grabbing the mirror from Wyll and holding out further away so they can both see parts of their faces in it. Sometimes she thinks that they were made for each other in more sense than one. Monster and monster hunter, both trying to do good, soldiers who can't return home, their bodies changed in a way that they wanted and then violated against their will, changed beyond recognition.

"I was thinking if maybe there's something I can do. To make myself feel more... at peace. With this body that I have now. When I was younger I did my best as much as possible. Bandaging my chest, shaving off my hair, wearing pants instead of frilly dresses. This is... different. Similar but different. I don't know if I'm making much sense."

Karlach understands. The two of them have the very same scars on their chest for the exact opposite reason. When she's feeling really mushy inside it makes her cry a little bit how well they fit. And when she's feeling particularly horny she wishes she could make them fit together in even more ways than this.

"I get it", she says, raising her hand to follow the path of his finger from before, gently touching the shell of his ear. Wyll shivers a little and she can see goosebumps erupt on his forearms. Gods, she wants him. She wants him so much. "If you want we could try to do some stuff to make it feel more like yours."

Wyll blinks and looks at her.

"How do you mean?"

Karlach shrugs.

"It's really silly, right, but. Uh. When I got this engine", she bangs on her chest twice for emphasis, "I was really desperate to reclaim my body somehow so I like. Got a tattoo. Got some piercings. Tried to make this house a home again, you know?"

She holds out her arm to show Wyll the tattoo of an anatomically correct heart on her upper arm.

"It's so on the nose but... I don't know. I just wanted something that was mine and that I decided to do with my body", she explains, shrugging her shoulders before putting down the mirror. Wyll's finger touches one of her many piercings she has in her right ear. Karlach tries not to sigh.

"You think I should try one of these?", he asks with a lopsided smile.

"Dunno if that would work for you. It did for me. Guess it's worth a try, right?", she says.

"Where do you think I should put it?", he asks, turning around to face her fully now, his face open and curious and his voice soft. Sharing these thoughts and feelings with someone means the world to Karlach. Every day she's thankful that it was Wyll who chased her through the Hells and that she got to meet him through all of this insanity.

"Well. You're such a handsome bugger, I think you could rock any piercing, really", Karlach says earnestly, watching full of delight how Wyll ducks his head because of her compliment. "But maybe we could start small and just give you an earring. To see if you like it. And if you think it works we can always make that mouth of yours even more kissable and put a ring through it."

Wyll huffs and she watches as he swallows, maybe because he's thinking about kissing her with a ring through his lip or maybe just about kissing her in general.

Karlach stretches out both hands and puts them on Wyll's chest, right where the two fine scars are on his chest.

"I know it sucks, but you still have this. We both do", she says quietly. Wyll hesitates before he mirrors the gesture, putting his hands just below Karlach's boobs. She feels absolutely normal about it and it doesn't do things to her at all. Nope. She's so, so strong.

"Imagine Mizora would have summoned my breasts back... I would have had to kill her after all", Wyll jokes and Karlach snorts a laugh.

"Devils suck but at least they're gender affirmation dickheads", Karlach says and bangs on her infernal engine again. Wyll touches his ear again.

"Do you want to do this?", he asks, his eyes shining.

"Fuck yeah. Let me get a needle from Fangs. Maybe we can get matching ones!"

Wyll looks at her so fondly, it makes her engine burn hotter.

"I would like that."

feel free to send me more of these<3

#bg3 fic #karlach cliffgate #wyll ravengard #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #mi writes #wyllach #wyll x karlach #i was almost ready to turn this into the softest fluffiest gender affirming smut........#thank you so much for the prompt i love these two to pieces ;-;

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mlove44lh · 1 year

Text

Don´t hurt yourself

Chapther 5 - Emptiness

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: mention of cheating, angst, swearing,

Words: 3.561

“God was in the room when the man said to the woman, "I love you so much. Wrap your legs around me. Pull me in, pull me in, pull me in." Sometimes when he'd have her nipple in his mouth, she'd whisper, "Oh, my God." That, too, is a form of worship.”

"He's here.” I didn't see his car or the lights in our apartment on, but I'm sure of it. It's like I can still feel his presence even though he's meters away. At least that hasn't faded away yet.

The tears from the earlier breakdown are still on my face, but I'm calmer now.

"He’s better be. Now come on, I'll help you upstairs."

Alessia unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the driver's door, but I grab her arm to stop her from getting out of the car.

"No, I'm fine. Let me go alone."

"Are you crazy? Look at you, Y/n. I'm not going to..."

"I'm serious," I interrupt her. "I don't want to go home being carried. I'm not that bad."

I am feeling terrible, but she doesn't need to know how much.

Alessia stares at me for a few seconds before relenting and closing the door on her side.

"Alright, but I'll stay right here, in case you need anything throughout the night. Just to make sure you're okay."

"Go home. I've already caused you enough trouble today. I'll be fine, I promise."

We stay silent for a few seconds before she speaks again.

"You know, if you need help hiding his body, I can assist you."

I chuckle amidst the mess of tears at her comment.

"I'll let you know."

I open the car door and unbuckle my seatbelt. Alessia grabs my hand before letting me get out of the car.

"Y/n. I..." Her eyes tell me what I already know. We've always had a crazy connection where sometimes words aren't even necessary.

"I know. I'll call you when I can."

We exchange a lingering look before I finally let go of her hand and step out of the car. Alessia nods, her eyes filled with concern, and I close the door behind me.

I glance back one last time before stepping into the building. My agitation is palpable, and I can feel my whole body trembling as I wait for the elevator to arrive at the top floor apartment. I try to envision my next steps, but my mind is so muddled that I can't hold a coherent thought for more than a few seconds.

I look at my reflection in the elevator mirror and can't recognize myself through the blurry makeup and the dark bags under my eyes. Just this realization makes me want to cry again. I never thought I would reach this point, never thought it would hurt this much.

I take the key out of my bag as soon as the elevator doors open, revealing the entrance of my home. My hands tremble slightly, and I struggle a bit to place the key in the lock, but I manage to open and close the door without making too much noise. The apartment is dark, and I refrain from turning on the lights to avoid drawing attention. I take off my heels and take a few cautious steps, only to bump into the side table near the entrance with a loud thud. The sound echoes throughout the apartment, cutting through the silence of the night. I release a frustrated sigh and feel a sharp pain in my hip from the impact. I remain motionless for a moment, waiting to see if I've been noticed.

What the hell am I doing? Why am I trying to avoid being noticed by him? Why do I feel like I have to hide my current state? It's not like he doesn't know the way he left me.

The questions echo in my mind, mixed with the throbbing pain in my hip. Angrily, I throw my heels away, watching them hit the floor with a muffled clatter. So I sit on the cool living room floor, leaning against the wall. I feel the hot tears run down my face again, I feel so much that I couldn't even name it now. My crying now isn't compulsive like earlier, but I don't make myself try to hide the tears anymore, I don't care what I look like, or how Lewis is going to find me here, I'm tired, so fucking tired.

I can hear footsteps approaching, but I don't move from my spot.

Lewis appears in the room, his gaze surprised as he sees me sitting on the floor in this state. He's wearing only a sweatpants that I gave him shortly after we first met. A wave of sadness envelops me as I see the worn fabric and faded colors of this garment that I had asked him several times to throw away. But he always refused, telling me it had sentimental value.

The sight of that sweatpants is a painful reminder of how we started and where we are now.

The feeling of loss is poignant. I feel like I've lost not just Lewis, but also a part of myself. My hands tremble, and my heart clenches with the overwhelming sadness that consumes me.

Lewis looks disconcerted, unsure of what to say or do in the face of my state. His eyes fill with remorse, but the words seem to elude him. He tries to approach, but I move away.

"No!"

It's the only thing I can say. It's a plea, and he knows it, as he immediately backs away upon hearing my single word.

"Y/n, let me help you.”

There's pain in his voice, but it also sounds harsh.

"You want to help me?! When all of this is your fault?"

Lewis crouches down, getting closer to my height. I shouldn't say anything now, I'm still drunk, sad, and angry, anything that comes out of my mouth now will likely be regrettable. But I don't think I have much more to lose, so I keep letting the words flow.

"A guy bought me a drink today. A fucking dry martini.” I look at him, trying to discern any change in his expression. But Lewis remains unmoved. “And I accepted. I accepted because I realized what he wanted with it, and I wanted to try to understand. I wanted to see if I could...”

The incessant tears become more potent, and I have to focus on my breathing to maintain some semblance of calm.

"He was handsome. He thought I was beautiful too. He wanted to take me to his hotel room and fuck me." I keep my eyes fixed on Lewis. "You know, I've never been so hurt in my life, I never thought I could feel so angry at you. And even though..." Some sobs escape from me. "And even though, I couldn't even consider the idea of cheating on you.”

My head is still resting against the wall, and I don't have the strength to even maintain a posture.

"The only thing I can think of is why. What led you to do this to me? What made you come to the conclusion that I wasn't good enough and cheat on me with her? And why did you do this to me at the worst moment of my life?"

Tears well up in my eyes again as another wave of sorrow hits me.

"This isn't love, Lewis. This can't be love."

Lewis finally moves, walking towards me and helping me to get up. I don't pull away from him this time, knowing that if he doesn't take me away from here, I'll be sitting on this floor all night.

I stand up with his help, and Lewis carries me to our room, leading me to the ensuite bathroom. Tears are streaming down his face as well, but he doesn't make a sound, nor does he look directly at my face.

He let go of me to turn on the shower, and I lean against the sink counter.

He turns to look at me after the water starts flowing. With great care, he removes each piece of my clothing. I look into his eyes that avoid meeting mine, and he does everything without showing anything other than sadness.

The warm water against my skin helps me relax, even if only slightly. He leaves the bathroom and doesn't come back. I wait for his return, but there is none. The sound of the water falling prevents me from hearing much of what is happening outside the bathroom.

As the effects of the alcohol wear off, I begin to feel shame and fear creeping in.

When I finally feel calmer, I turn off the shower and step out of the stall, still feeling a bit shaky. I walk to the closet where the hanging clothes seem blurred to my swollen, tear-filled eyes. I dress myself before even thinking about what I'm going to do.

I leave the room and come face to face with his figure, sitting in one of the chairs at the dining table, seemingly waiting for me.

As I stare at him, standing still in front of the bedroom door, his expression is one of exhaustion. He looks older than he did just a day ago. His eyes are red and tears stain his face.

Despite the hurt and anger I feel, my heart clenches at the sight of Lewis in such a state. I never wanted this, but still, I feel guilty for our situation.

What Emma said is true, I was very happy with him for many years.

I never thought I would find myself in this situation. I never thought he could hurt me this much.

"Are you feeling better? Sober?" His voice comes out hoarser than usual.

"Yes," I whisper.

"Then sit. Please." He points to the chair in front of him.

I think about ignoring him, but I don't want to act as I should anymore, I want to act as I want. And now what I want is to hear what he has to say. So I comply with his request and sit in front of him. I don't think I have anything else to say to him, but I realize he has a lot to say as he looks at me again.

Lewis looks at me for some time before gathering the courage to start speaking. The first rays of sunlight begin to invade the apartment.

"It was at the Monza Grand Prix. The first race weekend since... that happened." He lowers his gaze as he mentions the last part, and I feel a shiver run through my entire body. "You stayed home. I think that was the first time in my life that I raced without caring about the result. I knew I didn't need to go that weekend; Toto had made that clear. But I don't know, I thought that if I could focus on something, I could take some of that feeling out of me. But no, I didn't focus on anything for a single second. It was a terrible weekend, and I shouldn't have gone.”

Lewis still doesn't look at me. His tension is almost palpable, and his melancholy seems more evident with each passing second.

"I felt so much anger, so much hatred towards myself. For some reason, I felt guilty for not being able to give you what you wanted, what we wanted. I could barely look at you, not because I blamed you or anything, but because I blamed myself. And I regret so much not even trying to talk to you, not forcing you to talk to me. I knew you wanted to talk. But back then, everything was so painful and confusing." He takes a few seconds to breathe before continuing. "On Sunday, my flight got delayed by a few hours, remember?” I don't answer him, just move my head down millimeters to show him I understand, and that he can proceed. “I didn't think it was worth booking another hotel room, so I decided to spend that time at the hotel bar. It was empty, almost dawn already. I just wanted that feeling inside me to go away, so I started drinking. And she showed up, all alone. I didn't know who she was, but she knew who I was, and it seemed like she knew exactly what to say.”

Lewis lifts his gaze to me, perhaps to see if I'm still following along. My body burns, the pain I feel as I listen to every word that comes out of his mouth seems to be physical. But I remain still, waiting for him to continue.

"We had some drinks. And after a few hours, she asked me to accompany her to her room. And I went. And when we got there, she asked me if I wanted to come in. And for some reason, I said yes.”

He continues to look at me, and I continue to look at him. We are sitting just inches apart, but the feeling is as if he is miles away. Until this moment, I hadn't stopped to imagine how he was able to do what he did. I wasn't aware that I needed this explanation. Although it doesn't bring me comfort, at least now I am aware, and I no longer need to speculate and hurt myself with my own imagination.

"I don't know why I did what I did. And it didn't feel right at any moment. I knew it was wrong, I mean, it wasn't out of my control or anything like that. I did what I did fully aware, even though I was miserable. But at that moment, I didn't care about anything."

His hands are tightly intertwined, with the tendons clearly visible, showing a strong grip.

"I left that room, and it didn't take long for regret to hit me. I cried all the way back as if it could undo what I did. I decided not to tell you because it was a mistake that meant nothing, and no one would find out." His pauses become more frequent. "I came home determined to change our situation, to help us overcome that moment. But you were so deeply absorbed in your sadness that you didn't move to change, and I understand, but at that moment, I felt frustrated. And again, I didn't push myself or push you to take any action, I just accepted it, or rather, I gave up.”

I feel my breathing getting heavier. But I don't think I have any tears left to cry.

"I found out who she was weeks later, when I met Matteo in Brackley and he showed me a picture of her. I thought I couldn't feel any worse, but the guilt multiplied at that moment, not because of him or her. But because I knew that you would eventually meet someday, and that even without knowing, you would see in person the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. She became real at that moment.”

"I met with her afterwards. I asked to speak with her after I found out who she was, thinking it would put an end to it, not wanting to take any risks. But..." He pauses, knowing he doesn't need to continue. They kept meeting, it's obvious. "It lasted for a few weeks, I found ridiculous reasons to make myself believe that none of it was wrong. Every time you cut off contact or kept your distance, I believed even more that there was a reason for what I was doing. But it all ended things before November. I think I snapped out of that numbness and apathy and realized what I was doing at the same time as I watched you trying to get better. I decided to end it and hoped it would never affect you. I never wanted to tell you, thought I could hide it and go back to normal. But of course you noticed, and the more distant you became, the more distant I became too. Not because I didn't care, but because I was afraid you would find out and give up on me. But I didn't realize that by doing that, I only made our situation worse.”

He separates his intertwined hands and extends one of them towards me, slowly, as if wanting to make sure I will allow the contact. I'm indecisive, unsure if I want or can handle the touch at this moment. But before I can make a conscious decision, I feel Lewis' hand on mine, which is resting on the table. His hand is warm and firm, and I feel his fingers gently closing around mine. It's a comforting gesture, yet it hurts like never before.

"You said I looked at her the same way I looked at you, but that's not true, Y/n. I never even looked at her in any other way than to fulfill a stupid need that I thought I had. She will never be half of who you are. It was never your fault, and it never will be. I love you more than anything, and I tried my best in everything I did for you, until the moment I broke our relationship in a way that I don't know if it can be fixed." His hand tightens around mine. "I won't insist on you giving me a second chance. Not after tonight. What you said and how you're feeling right now, it's more devastating for me than I thought possible. I want us back, but if you don't want that, I'll understand. I love you too much to push for it after what I've done to you.”

His voice comes out choked with tears, which hurts me deeply. I desperately wish I could say something to ease the weight we both carry, but the words elude me, and there's nothing I can offer to improve our situation right now.

I only decide to speak up once I'm sure he's finished telling me what he needed to say.

"I don't think you can truly understand what I've been through and what I'm going through right now," I say in a calmer tone than I expected. I watch Lewis cry in front of me as I try to formulate what I'm going to say. He breaks eye contact, but I keep looking at him. "And I will never know your feelings and what led you to do what you did.”

Gently, I pull my hand away from his touch.

"Look at me," I say. He turns his gaze towards me instantly. "But I still love you. More than I should. But I don't know if that's enough.”

"It's okay.” His expression falls again, I never thought I would see him like this, but I also never thought I would be in this state.

“I'm not sure if I want to end this. And I don't want to think about it anymore today. I'm exhausted, Lewis, exhausted from thinking and trying to understand. I just need some time away from everything.”

“I can spend another night away.”

“No. It's okay. You can stay here.”

I get up and walk towards him, closer than I have been in the past few weeks. Lewis is sitting down, so his height is a bit shorter than mine. His hands rest on the sides of my legs, and he leaves them there. And I don't mind the contact, nor do I move to pull away.

"I'm not worried about forgiving you," his eyes shimmer. "I'm worried about what will happen if I do forgive you. How I can trust you again? how I can no longer be afraid or ashamed? And all of this seems so much more complex than I could handle, even with all the love in the world. I don't know how long it would take for me to heal from this.”

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for you to be sure, no matter how long it takes."

"I may not come back."

"That’s okay. Just let me know." His eyes are sad, but he seems more relieved now.

I nod as I place one of my hands on his shoulder.

"Let's go. I need to get some sleep."

He accompanies me to the entrance door of the master bedroom.

"Goodnight." The smile on his lips looks pained. He looks at me for a few seconds before heading to the guest room and closing the door behind him.

"Goodnight, Lewis." I say to no one, knowing that my words won't be heard by him.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, I decided to change some things in the story in the last minute 😅. But here it is. Hope you guys liked it, and see you in the next chapter!

Taglist:

@slafgoalskybaby, @justanormalfangirlsworld, @ravenqueen27, @nakamotosmoron, @supersanelyromantic, @maryseesthings, @bebesobrielo, @tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden, @bbhyunee, @missamericana69, @thotsposts

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, please let me know!

#au fanfiction #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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royalwriteroftheuniverse · 1 year

Text

Chris and I- bringing our Baby home for the first time

18+ just in case ALL FLUFF (slight mention of parent death) bringing baby home from being born choose ur own Chris (its an AU) COMMENTS & REBLOGS APPRECIATED no permission to repost republish or tralnslate.

"Chris why are you driving so slow?" I'm with our baby in the back while he's driving the Audi, (always my favorite car)

"Because"

"Yea but hon it's our private road my baby's gunna turn three before we get to the house."

"Um excuse me its our Baby"

"Sure let's just so with that." I playfully roll my eyes and see Chris pout in the rear view mirror.

"That's not funny you know how long I've wanted a family for."

"I do and I'm sorry." I pause for a few second. "Actually I'm not because you're taking forever and I am in desperate need of a bath and she is going to need to be changed soon and you should get rest. Because I am not letting her cry herself to sleep. A d-"

"You think I'd do that? Hell no."

"Good because I'm not going to be the only one getting up so if you can increase to may at least 10 miles an hour. I'd appreciate it."

"Fine. "

"Dare I even ask for 30?" I flirty teases.

"Don't push it." His lip curls a bit.

My phone dings

"Oooo"

What?

"Scott left us cheesecake in the fridge and your mother will be bringing us dinner! God I love your family."

My tears well up

"I know. I'm sorry hon. I'm sure your mother would've loved to be here but I know she's watching over us. "

"I know I just....."

"Hey it's ok you've got my family and they love you more than me so"

I laugh

"It's gunna be weird without dodger there but I can't wait until he gets to meet his baby sister." I changed the topic in a dime-I know. And I know Chris knows I did that on purpose- it's too painful to talk about right now; especially with emotions all over the place.

"I'm glad everyone understood we wanted some alone time."

"Well it was that or we leave them on a porch to freeze."

"Oh my sweet little one you have no idea how much you're loved." I caress her cheek.

"Oh she knows did you see how much she loved people. Who visited her she drank it up."

"Oh I saw. I'm glad she has a big family who loves her. She's so beautiful."

"Just like her mama."

"Chris."

"What? Its true. She is practically your mini me. Franky I'm thrilled I was terrified."

"Yea gorgeous sexy actor who'd want to look like-"

"You do remember those scene where I had to dress up like a woman."

"Good point I'm still traumatized."

"We all were" he laughs

"Chris did we move at all?"

"Yes I'm getting there. Relax."

"Well she gunna be hungrey I know and you know I know when she is gunna get hungrey."

"And exactly how is that."

"Mommys intuition."

"I want daddy's intuition" he pouted

Oh thats easy see carry the child for 9 months and push them out through-"

"Ok ok I was there I don't need to relive it."

"You asked. We almost there I wanna cuddle. Honey we have plen-"

"Who said you I wanna cuddle with my baby girl."

"Me too."

"Well you know how we solve that?"

"No."

"We all cuddle together. Wait you seriously didn't think of that?"

"Hon I am just focused on the road."

"Chris you realized if you go to 30 miles we would've been there 5 minutes ago. Especially since Mama here is getting Hangrey" I cross my arms.

"Ok good point."

Within 2 minutes were back at home.

Chris and I unlock the carrier I go to get out he tells me to wait. He get the car seat/carrier he puts her down on the porch and we can see her from where we are.

"You left our child alone? I look at him with" widened eyes.

He pauses in mid movement not sure what to do or say

"I'm just kidding we can see her from here but hon I can walk by myself."

"I just want to help."

"Nothing I say will change things will it?"

"Nope."

"Worth a try. Anyway. Alright go. She needs to eat I want to sleep and you are on diper duty."

"Got it."

That was easier than I thought," I thought.

"Mother knows best." He replies

"How the hell do you know what I was thinking."

"Because we are that in sync."

"I had that inadvertent smirk on my face going didnt I?"

"Yes."

Before we bring her in he opens the door and goes inside for a moment. Then he comes back out.

He won't let me bend down to pick up the carrier so he picks her up but he are holding both sides of the carrier as we walk in together. Thankfully he has huge doors.

"Home sweet home baby girl."

We get the tiniest tiniest yawn.

"That was the cutest thing ever awww."

"I got it all on film baby."

"What?"

I put my camera to record this. So I can send it to everyone.

Can you not send it to everyone on your acting friends list, that didn't go over well like anytime but just to our close close friends and family I don't trust everyone and its my baby and I-"

"I know I know calm down mama bear. I already have a baby list and got NDAs."

Ok so he's even more paranoid than me.

There was a moment of silence.

"Chris."

"Yea

"What do we do first with her?"

he pauses

"I dont know."

"She's sleeping I dont want to take her out of her carrier."

"Me either dont wake a sleeping baby. We leave her on the floor and get changed?"

"I guess"

Were besides ourselves but we change and we sit on the floor and just stare at her.

"She's still asleep how is this possible"

"I don't know."

"We must have the most perfect baby ever- look at her sweet little breaths."

We stare at her, intensly for a while longer ok, for a lot while longer. He keeps trying to take his phone out. I put my hands over his. I mean after the 200th photo we can give it a rest and just take it in.

Chris mom, who has a key, had came and knocked with her finger to get our attention

"Why is she still in her carrier?"

"She's still sleeping."

"I dont want to wake her. I know she's gunna be hungrey and you know when she wakes up but I can't I can't help it. She's so."

We don't want to miss anything.

Ok you two how about you get some sleep and let grandma take care of her

Me and Chris both pout

Now go. You two sleep while you can.

Chris helps me up why I don't know. But he does and we crawl into bed and cuddle up and I fall asleep in his arms the next thing I know his mother is gently waking me, telling me she's hungrey.

Our sweet angel is brought in to me and Chris wakes up a second before she's brought into me.. she grabs onto my finger as she feeds.

“I love you” he kissed my temple

“I know.”

He kisses her head and she gives him the dirtiest look.

I let out a huge laugh.

"You're just like mama" he boops her nose which does nothing to dispell her dirty look.

"Mommy doesn't like to be disturbed when she's eating either."

"Ignore daddy" her eyes turn back to me, turning soft, "hes crazy."

"She likes you better."

"Baby im sure its just cause she loves food and I'm her only source. And she doesn't like me better its just baby moods." I don't know if that’s a thing but its worth a shot to comfort Chris.

"I know she loves you too. She made grabbed hands towards you before she fell asleep."

"Really."

"Yea. Right my little angel you love daddy too."

We turn on the TV low and Chris put on C-span.

"One way to get her to sleep. But maybe save c-span for night time. Put on a movie."

"Which one?”

“I don't know."

We finally settle on Disney's Snow White and not soon after she finishes eating and fals right back asleep. I hold her as Chris puts one arm around me and one arm around the baby.

His mother comes in without us realizing and apprently took a few pictures before she told us to say cheese.

"I'm tired"

"Sleep my love."

"We should put her down in her crib first I wanna do it together its the first time." I pout. So I'm exhausted I'm barely able to make it to her nursery but I'm determined for us to do this as a family. We gently placed her in the crib And Chris is apprently a master at hiding camera because he got the whole thing on film. We placed her in her crib and

and back before I'm out like a light. Chris later told me he held me while watching the baby monitor like a hawk until he fell asleep. I mean she's safe and were home and safe. Theres nothing I need more than what I have right now, snuggling into my husband the perfect first time home.

Ok sure she woke up up for feedings (which Chris got up to get her, and diaper changes and swaddling but she's a baby they do that but she's still a perfect baby... our baby... mine and Chris' perfect baby

Tag list

@sapphire-rogers @nana1000night @hawkeyes-queen @patzammit @sparklybarbarianninja

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yantao-enthusiast · 5 months

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the midnights era is so underrated. i'm not getting my revenge. i'm not hopelessly in love. no, i'm staring at the ceiling, know that once i fall asleep tomorrow will start but with my weary consciousness, i'm left with the thoughts of everything i've ever done. there's such a comfort in this subliminal space in this barren time. there's no one to judge me except myself. that one person i dated and never talked to again, do they ever think about me? i hear the crickets chirping while i'm crying in the bathtub. i hate my body but it's the one i have. actually, the world we live in is such a beautiful place and it's so soft and full of wonders that wouldn't exist without its quirks. when i was young, i wanted to be a dancer. i wonder what she would think of me now. she's still here, in my heart. actually she would probably hate me, like everyone else rightfully does. all i do is hurt people and every bit of my kindness is complicated and calculated. do you think about me? do you think about how you hurt me with your complicated bullshit before coming back like nothing's wrong? do you stare at the wall, wishing you did something different just like me? actually no. fuck you. fuck you and fuck everyone who ever hurt me. i'll ruin your life and you'll never know it was me. i'm hot shit and god the bathroom mirror makes me look so sexy. i'm going to put on a sparkly dress and dance because you don't deserve my sadness. oh shit wait i'm in love. that's terrifying. it's delicate and confusing yet so effortlessly simple. okay back to fuck you. i don't even have to do anything. that's how much the universe loves me. that's how much kindness and love is in my heart. oh also i love this person so much. they love me. they don't expect anything from me. they're like the blanket wrapped around me in the darkest hours, keeping me warm, keeping me alive. oh yeah i also orchestrated this person's presence into my life because that's the only way i know to get people to love me. but they know that. and they love me all the same.

oh look it's 3am now. how the fuck did that happen. god remember the time we were going through it? yeah but we had each other. i'm sorry for hurting you, pushing you away during that time when we were both struggling. you just wanted to help. and you did. maybe i'll tell them in the morning. would that be weird? maybe she'll get the message telepathically. man what if nothing wrong ever happened to me. i'll never be that girl. i'll never be the person i would've been if everything was normal in my life. fuck my life. oh right i'm in love. love this handsome fella. he makes me have vivid hallucinations about being in paris. i mean who need to go to paris when i got my baby with me??? who needs to pay attention to anything else? actually. this is really off topic. i cheated on someone once. yes i know i shouldn't have. but i was dying, stranded in a loveless land, and he saved me. yes i shouldn't have cheated on you but maybe you should've loved me. this relationship was a mistake. i didn't mean to love you. but i did. i'm in your arms and i don't remember how i got there. it's wrong. it's right. i never wanted this. nothing else will ever be as good as you. oh god i'm 19 all over again. with just one glance, i'm transported back into that time when i ached with every step, begged for just a piece of you when you're the one who looked at me. i wish i could go back. i am back. i just can't change anything. you have stolen a piece of me i will never get back and it's been so long but you can never get over the pain of losing yourself. but you don't have to worry about that, right? because you never gave anything. just like you'll never give my girlhood back. i wish i could keep anyone else from feeling that pain. i want to tell them all what i've learned from all the years i've been hurt. but why should anyone listen to me? i'm still a wreck, still figuring it all out, shouldn't they get advice from someone who actually knows how to navigate this messy existence? does it even matter? i'm in a state of paralysis, forever wondering, unable to get closure. it's too late. every midnight.

#i'm just saying.#tldr put some respect on midnights' name!!!!!!#midnights appreciation post #THE midnights appreciation post #actually #she's literally just spittin.....#it's giving late night adhd depression babygirl #midnights #midnights era #taylor swift #a tag for my very long posts about taylor swift #<3

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that-angry-noldo · 2 years

Text

We've Chosen Ourselves

[Finrod and Amarie after Finrod's reembodiement in Valinor.]

The hardest thing one needed to adapt to in Valinor was ethernal, surreal peace.

There was no threat.

No threat, Finrod reminded himself as the bird he didn't notice flapped its wings and took off for the sky. No threat. No enemy. No need to run, to make sure everybody's safe, to accept refugees and put on enchanted armor.

It was making him sick, and Finrod wished - in a twisted, desperate way - he stayed dead.

Valinor didn't need him.

It didn't need his knowledge or wisdom or memories. It didn't need his help. It didn't...

It continued spinning even though the world around it was burning to ashes. It didn't care.

And Finrod wanted to scream and to cry and to rip it apart, to show them blood, and flames, and death; but he only gritted his teeth and pursed his lips.

Valinor wasn't Beleriand.

There was no Enemy.

There was no threat, he reminded himself, hearing Amarie's footsteps, crunching leaves and startled birds announcing her presence.

He tried not to look at her, not to look at her golden braid and calm blue eyes and gentle hands; he could not look at her. Not without being reminded of how far he'd fallen. How his hands were elbows deep in blood, his skin was reminiscent of smokes and how his own hair was cut short - how every time looking in mirror he saw not himself, but wolves and bats and chains and fires.

"Why did you came?" he breathed, and he didn't care that his words sound harsh and bitter.

Maybe, if he tries, he can push her away just enough for her to see what... creature she cares for.

Amarie didn't stop. She went behing him, settling the basket with food on the outdoor table.

"I came to visit," she finally shrugged, looking straight at him. "Someone has to make sure you don't starve yourself to second death."

"I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you very much," he grunted and rested his cheen on his knees, tracing the forest with indifferent eyes.

"You haven't moved since yesterday, Finde."

That's true, Finrod admitted, even though Amarie's voice was far too soft for his likening. He settled on silence, hoping it's enough to keep her away. She just sighed.

Sometimes, Finrod wonders why was he so reluctant to let her near. Sometimes, he remembers all to well the days they spent together, the jokes they shared, the way he held her hand. Sometimes, all he knows is cold face of her brother, sharply informing that she won't be joining him.

Maybe it's for better, Finrod thought. Maybe it's good she didn't have to experience the cold of Helcaraxe and the heat of Bragollach.

"... you weren't listening, were you."

Sorry, the old Finrod wants to say. I didn't mean to. Go again?

The current Finrod can't bring himself to care.

Still, he tilted his head a bit, just enough for Amarie to sigh and drop the subject.

"Whatever. You can see what I brought later."

It's probably the usual, Finrod thought, and guilt tangled in his stomach. She always put berries in for him; berries which she picked herself and which Finrod didn't dare to touch.

"You- you really don't have to do it," he blurted. "It's- not worth it. Not worth the trouble."

"Getting you food isn't trouble."

"Not- not the food. The berries."

The berries, she frowned. Then, she sighed. Again.

It's funny. He could probably make a game out of it. How many times can he make Amarie sigh during a conversation? Gods, she was probably tired.

"You loved them, when we were younger."

"Ah," he frowned, trying to remember. "I- I guess I still do."

"Then I don't see a problem."

"It's- unnecessary."

Amarie sighed again. It wasn't a tired sigh, it was an "Eru give me strenght or I'm punching the idiot in the face" sigh.

"Findarato Ingoldo," her voice was - finally - cold. "You better think ten times before speaking or I swear to God."

"Don't swear. Nothing good comes from swearing."

"I absolutely hate you, Finde. Actually, I despise you."

And oh, it was supposed to be a joke, but her tone held another layer - a layer Amarie herself didn't want to recognize. Sorrow. Hurt.

Resignation.

"I'm sorry," Finrod whispered.

Amarie inhaled, clerly wanting to protest, but then pursed her lips.

"Me too."

She sat next to Finrod, and for a moment it was only him, her and autumn forest. For a moment, he could pretend they were far away, far ago, and they joked and held hands and her eyes were the most beautiful things he could imagine.

But pretending wasn't going to lead him anywhere. And so he was back in the present, and the wind was cold and his chest ached with phantom pain where the werewolf's claws left their marks.

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly. "I'm not the Finrod I was anymore."

"And I stopped being the Amarie you knew long ago," she shrugged. "And your father isn't the same Arafinwe he was before the Darkening. We all changed."

And somehow, it made it worse, and he didn't know why. Maybe because in Beleriand he convinced himself that those who stayed in Aman chose better fate. Fate without pain and fear. He convinced himself that Amarie still laughed and Father was still smiling broadly, holding Mother close.

"Change," he choked. "In Beleriand - the first thing you get used to is how fast it all changes. How it takes less time for leaves to go yellow. How the clouds seem to always hurry. How..." - how fast the faces of the most loved ones fade and how they hold your hand on their deathbed, their hair gray and their eyes weary - "How stability is but an illusion," - how little it takes to set the world aflame. "I... I guess I didn't think about change here."

"Noone did," she said, and her eyes are looking past the trees, past the skies, peeking in the time that was but a memory. "We didn't need to."

"I'm sorry," he repeated stubbornly.

"For what?"

For clinging to you, he thought. For remembering you in dreams. For looking Artanis in the eyes and feeling that cursed longing, the one I should've abandoned all those years ago.

For dooming you and me.

But he just inhaled and said, "I missed you."

Amarie went still. Her lips were pused in the tin line. Finrod was sure he didn't look better himself.

"I-"

She stopped, inhaled, closed her eyes.

"I. I missed you too. I missed you so goddamn much," she finaly hissed, trying to hold back tears. "Knowing that- you won't come back. And I stayed behind."

"You- you didn't."

"I did."

"I left you."

"... you did," she whispered and turned away. "I stayed behing and you left without me. It would be natural if we just forgot about eachother, wouldn't it? It would hurt, of course, but we've chosen our fates. But I-"

"-couldn't," Finrod whispered instead of her.

"... couldn't."

"Do you think we can now?"

Amarie laughed, but it was hurt and tired.

"We're both broken," she choked. "We both were clay pots, but now we're nothing but scattered shards."

Finrod turned to her, meeting her eyes.

She was crying. He felt tears streaming down his face.

"Do you think we're beyond repairing?"

She shook her head, and it almost made her cry more.

"Then we'll pick up the shards and try to glue them together," he said.

And it will be hard, and there will be times when they would sit like that again, wondering if they're really beyond repair; but then he will hold his hand out, and she will take it,

and the sun will set off for it's journey once again, just barely touching them with its rays.

#lads i feel like this is the longest fic i posted on this hell of a site #silmarillion #tolkien #finrod #finrod felagund #findarato ingoldo artafinde finrod felagund #amarie #finrod×amarie #lay of leithian #Valinor #they are ✨communicating✨#no beta i die like i've met turin turambar #like. I love their relationship so much #also it's like 3am. There's probably ton of typos and english isn't my first language. You've been warned

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sclfmastery · 10 months

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Rp continuation on Discord with @nickcagestrufflehog just got incredibly emotional and made me spit out some solid prose for the first time in months. Gotta share it, if I may <3 Dhawan Master and Yasmin Khan confront each other (Part 1). God bless ya, Karl <3 I needed this like air.

If people want more, I need to ask permission to share here first, but lmk. <3

Yaz @nickcagestrufflehog:

Self-control had always been Yaz's forte in most areas of her life. That's what she'd always been told, anyway. At family reunions, school awards ceremonies, and in work reports: "Yasmin, how mature and collected you are for your age!" Another thing that wasn't fair about the Master was how, no matter how on guard she was around him, there was always a little, awful voice in the back of her head telling her to poke the bear. It'd shown up when Yaz had first met the Doctor. She didn't think she would ever shake it; she isn't sure if she wants to, and she, as the Master calibrates, is deciding to give in and listen to it. "No, it's not a test. She's not here." Yasmin Khan tilts her chin up and grits her teeth. Meets his frenetic gaze. She's shaking. "You killed her. That her. I'm alone. And you should be glad that I'm not letting it get to me like I know being alone gets to the Doctor." It's an empty threat, and they both know it. Sweat's beading on her forehead as she tries to keep her gaze steady. She's pushing him; she knows. She's putting pressure on this already tense situation because she is alone. So alone, for the first time in a long time, and he is here and he won't even give her a straight answer to the question she'd asked.

The Master ( @sclfmastery:

The Master, small though he may be, sort of hovers, looms, in Yasmin's space, unaware for once of the intimidating effect of his gaze. It locks onto hers, and never wavers, even when the rest of him slightly oscillates, like an ever-running fan in August. "Not....?" A smile, a shake of his head. Eyes still follow hers. "Not here." He believes it before he allows himself consciously to surrender to the fact. The flatness of his tone betrays that much. "You mean to tell me you're here--" Alone. She cuts in, and speaks the word before he can. His laugh is expunged of air. It's painful even to hear, let alone utter. "SHE KILLED HERSELF!!!!" Childish, explosive. He knows he's lost the confrontation the moment he gives into that scream. It's too frustrating; he can't just discard Yasmin Khan as a speck in time, like the other companions. Like the one he hand-picked, or the many others he also underestimated. This one has a more immediate resonance. This one he can't gloat at, like Tegan Jovanka. What point would there be? SHE is not here. When the blood rush passes, the Master realizes he's got Yaz in a chokehold, but his eyes are closed. He lets go. What's the point, what's the point, what's the point. "All she had to do was look back at me. I'd not have done it, if she'd just CONSIDERED me, before LEAVING again....! She tamed me in a pretty cage when she was last a man. Did she tell you that...?" Why am I telling YOU this? Losers have loose lips, I guess. "I got myself killed for him. To be loyal. To be his best friend again. His longest, oldest best friend. To make him HAPPY...! To be good, to be KIND, to be SELFLESS, for him, without ANY credit for it." He sinks onto his knees, a mirror of that day in Victorian England, and 'say my name.'

"It's not like it is for you." His face is sweaty and wet. So disgustingly corporeal, limited, base. So human. Is he crying again? Why does he cry so often, now? "It's....for a Time Lord....all the faces are the same person. We're ....more fluid, our scope is....vaster. He and she and whoever is next are still my.....Doctor." A shrug, eyes focused now on nothing. No, not my 'Doctor.' Older, earlier. More ancient. My boy in the red grasses. My 'run with me.' My Theta Sigma. Older still. The name I know but won't utter. The name in the Confession Dial he gave me. Mine.

"But maybe not...." He's probably smiling. Probably. Who cares. "Maybe she's no one's. Even I'm small beside her now." The silence stretches thin.

You want to kill me." Now he's sure he's smiling. "You should. Then you'll know she'll be safe even if you're not going to go with her anymore."

If I killed her....I killed ME. Yeah. I'm gone. So go ahead, kiddo. You'll feel better.

#yaz tag #master of a nothing place (Dhawan)#drabble #discord rp #suicidal ideation tw #suicidal ideation cw #potd spoilers

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devotedlydelicatetrash · 1 year

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Blue and Gray

"Where's my angel? I'm sick and tired of everything." Legs dangling over the edge, I stared at the gray ceiling up above.

"Where's my angel? The one that brings the end of day?" and all I wanted was to ask someone to come and save me, please. It's just been a long and tiring day. All I needed was to let out my sigh.

"Everyone is happy, everyone is fine" But can you look at me because I am blue and gray?

Blue and Grey. Such beautiful colors are they not? Bright colors that could make someone's day. The color of the clouds and the colors of the sky on a bright sunny day. Blue and gray. Such beautiful colors. Colors of sadness and sorrow. Feelings of separation, and dreariness. Bittersweet memories brought up by gray and the feeling of these memories painted by blue. Blue and Grey. Hidden behind my laughter and my tears reflected in the mirror. One of me is true, one of me is false. One is a facade and one is broken. A blue colored facade and gray broken pieces of myself. When can I finally pick them up without bleeding and hurting myself all over again? Can you look at me because I'm covered in the drunken haze that is blue and gray?

A meaningless chuckle escapes my lips unconsciously. I just wanna be happier. Will I even be me ever again? Not the me that puts on a smile for everyone, not the me that everyone loves, not the me that is loud, and fearless. But the me that seeks comfort, that isn't afraid to cry–the me that has a personality larger than life, the one that can be strong enough to not give everything her whole heart. The me that knew that it was okay to cry, okay to not dream, okay to break down, that it was okay to not be strong. Not the me that acts like everything is okay.

"Where did it all go wrong?" I ask myself. I've always lived life so unrelentlessly, so full of passion. Maybe I lived that way since I didn't know the answers to all the blue question marks on my head. Perhaps I did know when it all went wrong. Because when I look back at those moments, all I see is a monstrous blue surrounding my singular frame. I saw myself standing alone. And I saw the sharp shadow that swallowed me whole.

Even now I don't know the answers to all those blue question marks. If they aren't questions but rather depression or anxiety or a beast made of regret or the overwhelming loneliness that swallowed me. Blue and gray. Even after all these years that I've been consumed by this, I could never understand this brutal and malevolent blue. I'm clouded by blue but I cannot let it take any more of me.

"I'll find a way out, I hope." But I know that I'll never be enough.

"I just wanna be happier" The hand that I've extended so many times has been frozen in a colorless echo. Oh, this ground feels so much heavier, I feel like I am singing by myself.

"I just wanna be happier, am I too greedy to ask for that?" The feeling of walking down on a cold winter path all alone. The sound of my dulling heart. I can still feel it all.

Can't say I'm okay because I know I'm not okay. This charging grey rhino is hurling at me yet I look at it unfocused, with all these chains weighing me down. I don't feel like myself walking down these familiar roads that feel so unfamiliar. Am I just dull, or broken, or just congested with blue?

"I don't believe in a god called conviction," So why am I getting convicted and caged for being blue and gray? This vast gray space that I'm trapped in feels familiar with the same gray faces where color doesn't apply to me. Where I can be myself. Where I dance under the gray rain and toast to the fog covering my world and the blue dust covering my rainy days.

"I just wanna be happier." This ground feels so much heavier alone. I need someone to share my weight, to share my sorrow, my happiness, my changes. Everyone grows up but I'm stuck in the most dark part of myself. So won't you come and warm my cold soul? I need you all the more now that my hands are frozen in these blue echoes. Oh, this ground feels so much heavier, I feel like I am singing by myself. It hurts too much so I beg of you, please don't leave me alone. I wanna laugh freely again one day. And when I am not overcast by blue and gray, I'll make sure to tell you. But for now, I'm okay with the me that laughs, and lives fearlessly. Maybe I'll never get back to being myself because this me that I hate, is the one that's grown up. I might be different now but once I come to terms with myself, that life goes on, I'll finally be able to sleep even if it's at dawn.

Blue and Gray. Colors of beauty, of breath, and life. Colors that have infinite meanings and infinite ways they can make you feel. Whether it's feelings of sadness or peace and truth. Blue and Gray. One is a facade and one is dull. In the end, both of them are broken and so am I. Just the thought of growing up introduced all these daunting ideas and maybe I'm just stuck in time between this dark space of childhood and adulthood. And maybe this facade that I hide behind is starting to become me, a new me. I've always hoped to get out of this trance of dark space but maybe acceptance is the key to happiness. Maybe I shouldn't be afraid of people seeing me the way I am now because even though I'm not the child that I so dearly loved being, I am still myself, just growing up. I'm okay if you look at me now, even if I am blue and gray. Because now blue means clear skies, and gray, the color of acceptance. And now that it's a bright blue day I'll let you look at me because this blue and gray is me.

#short stories #bts songs #blue and gray

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sur-un-fil · 2 years

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Ink demonth 2022 - Reflection

How does Joey deal with those who do not have his work capacity?

Chapter 13 : 1954

The day was not looking good, and had been since the morning. There had been further ink flooding down the Studio's stairs during the night, enough to delay the hiring of three departments. Joey had been wading through the ink all morning, catching up with a number of employees who thought they were going home, and trying to organise the work as best he could under the circumstances. No sooner had the problem been solved than Mr Cohen had stumbled into his office with a pile of invoices under his arm to tell him about the mounting debts. The perpetually worried accountant couldn't see beyond the numbers and spent his time boring Joey with the ups and downs of the Studio's budget. He'd hired him to deal with that sort of thing, for God's sake! Annoyed, he cut the interview short and went to the bathroom for a while.

He was washing his hands when the door opened behind his back, cutting off his brief respite. "Mr. Drew?" called someone Joey didn't recognize as he looked up to look in the mirror above the sinks.

"Himself," he replied dryly without bothering to turn around.

The young man took off his hat.

"I wanted to tell you in person. Mr. Meyer hung himself last night."

Joey pursed his lips, too annoyed to hold back the contempt he felt.

"Tsss. That's really bad news. I needed the animations from his part of the last movie today."

The other decomposed behind him.

"What...?

"He had responsibilities," Joey cut him off, looking down at his hands." I can't feel sorry for him when we're going to have to find someone to do his job for him."

"My brother is dead because of you!" the other Mr. Meyer suddenly shouted.

"I certainly didn't ask him to do anything so..."

"But you kept loading him with work, over and over again, demanding ever more beautiful designs in shorter and shorter time frames. Charles lived for his work. The stress had finally taken away his appetite and sleep, he was no longer himself..."

"He was the head of the animation department, so it's normal that his workload was heavy. I ask as much of the others, you know? And I work even harder myself."

"But my brother..."

"...showed a regrettable weakness. I should have put someone stronger in his position, indeed. We wouldn't have wasted so much time."

There was a brief silence and Joey looked up again to look at him through the mirror. The contempt and hatred that clouded his brown gaze didn't touch him for a second.

"I don't know how you manage to look yourself in the face," he dropped.

Joey glanced at himself. He held his own gaze without issue, before catching the eyes that were still shooting at him.

"Because no architect counts the bricks needed for his masterpiece. And they never cry when one of them breaks, Mr. Meyer."

That last thought seemed to be the last straw, and the young man dropped his hat to throw himself forward. Joey saw him move in the mirror, but only had time to raise a hand to shield his face before he grabbed him, turned him around and punched him. The blow, even if slightly deflected, sent a searing pain through his right cheekbone. Joey managed to grab him by the sleeve before he hit him again, and took the opportunity to lock his arm firmly against his chest, immobilising him just enough to bring their faces together and lean aggressively into him.

"You're in my house now, sir. Touch me again, and you'll suffer a fate far worse than your brother."

Joey saw the terror bloom on his face. Then he let go of him and the pallid young man stumbled and almost fell backwards in his haste to get away from him. The door slammed shut as he ran out of the toilet. Joey, unconcerned, took a moment to pull on the sleeves of his shirt and put his jacket back on properly. When he turned to the mirror to run a hand through his slicked-back hair, he saw the unhealthy red glow that had ignited in his eyes. It fluttered briefly, then faded. Satisfied, he smiled briefly to himself and went out.

..........................................................................

I just wanted to make it clear that I definitely don't share Joey's shitty opinion on people committing suicide or on burnout. I know how difficult certain periods of life can be, and how stress and depression can make everyday life hell. So I'm taking advantage of this text to do a little prevention: don't let anything or anyone persuade you that the only solution is to end your life. If this thought comes to you, go quickly to find support from your loved ones or competent people (doctor, psychologist) to get help. Remember that there is nothing important enough to take away your well-being and your life: no job, no sport or hobby, no lover is worth it. Know that everything passes, everything begins again. So take care of yourself first, because you are and will always be the most important person to you :)

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #the ink demonth #batim au #joey drew #The Ink Demonth #Bendy and the Ink Machine #burnout #⚠️ mention of suicide

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