#but i find it hard to remember good memories

[xurory]

LAST KISS

summary. there was before you, and there was during you. for some reason, i never thought there would be an after you.

pairing. blade x fem! reader

cc. lowercase intended , angst - no comfort , mention of blood , implied immortal reader , 1.8k words

truly a bittersweet feeling — the way you stared at the picture frame sitting on top of your bedside table displaying a photo of two people alongside each other. you with the man you swore to love for all eternity, yingxing.

you never thought it would be this hard to let go of someone, specifically a person who you had already dedicated yourself to. constellation like souls, tied and destined together by fate. that's what it felt like loving him. for each time your eyes locks with his vermillion colored ones, those short moments felt like you were bound to devote your undying love to him forevermore.

he made it easy to stay alive, to live. for his presence simply gracing yours eased the deepest pains you've long hidden behind a carefree and bubbly personality. he accepted every little piece of you, without a care of what might come for him. he reciprocated the love you unconditionally gave him like it was easy. because for yingxing, it was beyond easy.

"don't you find it weird? that you take care of us but forget to care for yourself afterwards?" a male voice speaks in a whisper-like tone as you tend to the wound planted on his arm using bandages good for the bleeding you didn't cause. "jing yuan, stop worrying so much about me. if im still breathing just fine, then you can't say that i don't take care of myself."

you giggle, finishing his wrapped up right arm before patting it gently, standing up to leave and return the unused roll to a cabinet where they belong. "i'd like you to meet a friend of ours." his statement made you stop in your tracks, looking back behind at the vulnerable man sitting at the bed of your clinic with a smile on his face.

"who?" eyes locked on him, placing the roll on your desk as you patiently awaited for a reply from him. you seriously doubted he had more friends other than the members of the high cloud quintet who viewed you as a trusted someone who they could always run to when they're in need of assistance with injuries they earned from their battles. though, there was someone they've mentioned once who was also a member that you haven't met just yet.

jing yuan tilts his head to the side, looking straight into your eyes. "yingxing, i assume that you've heard of him atleast once or twice whenever you would engage in my conversations with my friends." which was true. you've certainly heard of that name but never really dared to ask about who he might be, for you thought none of it was your business to bring up so casually.

you remembered the day you first laid eyes on him like it happened yesterday. the memories you created with yingxing were the most vivid memories throughout the entirety of your life. fragments of memories you would forever cherish until the minute of your last breath.

he played such a special role in your life. as if you weren't able to carry the burdens crushing you without his support. it truly was a surprise that you managed to last so long unaccompanied by the man that took most of your pain just by simply being there beside you. his absence made it hard for you to breathe.

"xing, look at this!" your hand carried a white tassel that faded downward into a shade of red.

"for me?" he asks in an instant, gazing at the accessory that you've confirmed was for him with a nod. you hang the tassel on the left of his chest, watching as it swayed as he moved. yingxing smiled, at you. blood rushed up to your cheeks upon the rare sight of his gratitude towards your gift that he'd most definitely treasure endlessly.

it wasn't long before he pulled you by the waist while you watched the sun melt from a distance, feeling you warm body against his. yingxing's thumb rubbed circles against your side, making you chuckle.

oh, how you cherished every minute spent with the man you loved. simple moments of intimacy that never failed to make your heart race. silence drowned the lovers ahead, with one silently wishing to the aeons to make their relationship last, and the other hoping that he'll never have to spend another minute without you by his side.

the two were too busy being lost in each other's minds that they failed to notice baiheng capturing the moment with a camera that belonged to you, and jing yuan on the side gazing at the lovers like a proud wingman. guess you'd have to thank her for that later.

it hurt, it never really stopped hurting. yingxing healed you unknowingly, he cured the pain you endured silently by expressing his love for you. and now that he's no longer here with you, the pain became unbearable.

nevertheless, meeting new friends after almost a decade of being alone made everything a teeny tiny bit better. even though one of them was the mere reincarnation of an old friend of yours, yingxing's associate, dan feng.

meeting his reincarnation sure was confusing. he looked the same, but yet so different in so many ways. he goes by dan heng now. for some reason, the two of you got along very well, just like old times.

obviously, as part of the nameless, you were well aware of a specific organization known as the stellaron hunters to which yingxing, or should i say blade, is a member of.

he was an enemy to the astras express crew, to them, atleast. how could you ever hate someone you never stopped loving despite separation for so many years? that's right.

you thought the time where you would have to stand against your beloved would never come, so why were you panting infront of him under the pouring rain? gripping on your sword for dear life as blood streamed down your arm from the wounds he created.

he has changed, this moment was beyond your expectations but being surprised was nowhere to be found. he was your enemy, after all.

blade stood a few feet away from you, his bangs wet from the rain blocking his vision.

yingxing loved and accepted you, but blade discarded you.

for each time you caught his gaze on yours, it broke you to pieces seeing how there's practically no light to be found behind those eyes, just pure hatred. or so you thought.

blade was cursed to be damaged for eternity, cutting the hands of those who dared put his pieces back together, including the hands of the one he loved so dearly.

you wanted him to tell you everything, without leaving any details behind. you longed to feel him in your arms once again, feel that warmth of his that never failed to absolutely melt you. "x-xing.." your lungs were failing you.

"do not address me by that name." he spat, glancing over your fragile state, you were in the verge of breaking, and he did nothing about it. hearing his harsh tone felt like a million pieces of broken glass thrown against your way. you wished for him to hold you, tell you that everything's going to be alright and that he's right there, with you.

but your dreams were nothing but stupid desires.

"finish me off already." heavy breathing followed, using your sword to avoid falling to the ground and looking pathetic, like you weren't already. if you were anyone else, blade would've never hesitated and would grant your wish the moment you utter the words out. but you were more than that.

he launches at you, forcing you to engage in the duel, surrendering was not an option. "who taught you to be so weak? fight back." you immediately shielded yourself, his sword pressing against yours. his strength was unmatched.

blade pressured you to not give up, as if he wasn't already killing you slowly.

the fight between two people who were once peaceful, torn apart by fate. maybe, just maybe, in another life, they'd be able to freely love each other. there's no doubt that it would take long, after all, the worser fate than death is not being able to die.

your swords clashed, using your full strength to push him away from you. "stop.. pleas- fuck!" your arm ached, the same way your heart did.

i feel you forget me like i used to feel to breathe.

"waakee uuup~" you dragged the vowels on your tongue, kissing the white haired man sleeping soundly on your bed awake. feeling his hot breath against your face.

the sun shined brightly against his face, the face you would never get tired staring at. you could basically occupy yourself almost for an entire day just by admiring his pretty features.

"you're just wasting your time, don't you dare pity me any longer!" you screamed, furrowing your brows as you tossed your weapon aside, refusing to take part in this battle you know damn well you'd never win. the pain in your voice was easily noticed by the man before you, the grip he had on his weapon loosening. "pathetic. you know better than to prioritize your personal feelings over the battle ahead of you."

the rainstorm soon came to an end, just when you fucking needed it to conceal your tears you were so ashamed of showing. "you can't blame me, now can you? i'd rather you tear me to pieces than to live with the knowledge of you being my enemy."

"this is what we were destined to be, not even i could do anything to stop it for your radiance no longer leads my way." you wanted to scream the pain piercing your heart. your souls were bound to be against each other, and you gave yourself no right to accept such things.

blade walks away, refusing to see you suffer any longer than he could take. "i'd sacrifice anything just to feel your love again.." you whispered, loud enough for him to hear as clear as day.

"let go." was all he replied back, leaving you dumbfounded, your gaze stuck on his back as he disappeared into thin air.

you were willing to leave everything behind, give it all up just for him. but even that, he would never let you do such for his sake. for the love was there, but he simply refuses to be show vulnerability towards someone ever again, even to you.

your consciousness faded away, your body meeting the cold, wet ground. escaping reality to foolishly give the imaginary fragments of your mind indulge you for a while. considering that once you wake up, you'd have to face it all over again, as if it wouldn't kill you to live up to the fact that the probability of your relationship with him to be repaired was low, extremely.

"loving you was the most exquisite form of self destruction."

from xumi ; part 2 or nah? 🤕 reblogs r appreciated !!

#>ᴗ< — xu writes ´ˎ˗ #blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr angst #blade angst #blade x you #hsr x reader #blade honkai #hsr blade

[morverenmaybewrites]

Hiya! First of all your blog’s interface is so cute i’m rolling on the floorrrrrrr

Second of all your writing is absolutely amazing, i’ve just finished reading “the pizza delivery girl’s survival guide to gotham city” and lemme tell u i can’t wait for the next chapter cause absolute gold-

I wanted to ask what your thoughts are on Jason and day-to-day life outside of costume. Like, dude HAS to go outside as himself at least every once in a while, out of pure necessity. How do you think he goes on about it?

Aw, thank you, I'm glad you like my blog interface and my fic. I think it depends on how much he's progressed in processing his trauma, to be honest!

I imagine when he first moved back in Gotham, he avoided going out as much as possible, for a multitude of reasons. First, because he was still reeling emotionally from Bruce enacting project Knightfall (aka faking his own death), he was recovering from the injuries he sustained during the events of Arkham Knight (and of course, the injuries he got from the Joker). Most importantly, he is adjusting to living in a city he once hated enough to want to destroy.

I feel like those first few weeks were painful for him. Every place is filled memories, and while not all of them are bad memories, they often feel too painful to revisit. He likely spent most of his time cooped up in a safehouse (which was established as something he makes no effort to make comfortable), only going out when he absolutely had to. Interacting with the city and its people as little as possible. While I don't think the Joker ever meant him to survive his torture, the amount of scars and physical injuries he bears means that a lot of his interactions bring a lot of (misplaced) guilt and shame. Did that shopkeep spend too long looking at his face, his scar? Maybe he'll pass by some hole-in-the-wall shop and remember that he and Dick and Barbara would cool down there after patrols. The ramen, he'll think, is surprisingly good. The owner is a smiling, heavyset man who insists that they never pay for their meals. Maybe he'll even take a single step toward the shop, only to remember that the scars on his hands make it so it's hard to hold cutlery without shaking. That there are days when it's physically painful to eat. And he'll shake his head and walk away.

But I think the more he interacts with PG in the story and the more he fixes his relationship with his family, the more he'll be able to interact with Gotham City. Maybe going to the grocery won't be treated like a military supply run. Maybe he'll look up from his carefully-curated list and realize a type of candy Barbara used to be obsessed with is back in stock now. Maybe he'll put it in his cart, and for the first time in a while, he doesn't have to think about what he did to her as the Arkham Knight. One day, he'll wake up before his alarm and remember that you used to talk about watching the sun rise over Gotham Bay. He'll take a long walk along the shoreline and watch the way the sky turns into soft shades of pink and orange, and he'll be surprised at the realization that there are still beautiful things in Gotham. Maybe your face will flash in his mind, and he'll think that perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised, after all. Maybe one day, after a long night of patrol, he'll pass by the ramen shop again and this time, he decides to stay. The only thing that has changed is the owner, who's gained weight and a few gray hairs, but his smile is still the same. He'll bring Jason's order without asking, and he'll insist that he doesn't have to pay for it. Eating doesn't hurt as much as he feared. In fact, some days, he can move his hands without feeling pain. This is one of the good days. Maybe on that good day, he'll be surprised to find that the ramen is still good. That he can think of the days he used to stay here with his family after patrols, exchanging combat tips and juicy bits of gossip. And this time, he's able to smile.

#ask #anon #jason todd #jason todd x reader #it is actually SO important to me that PG loves gotham city while for the early chapters jason mostly sees it as a duty to be borne #jason learning to fall in love with gotham city all over again #jason finding beauty in the mundane #i just woke up after a 24 hr shift the other day so here have some word vomit

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

So, I'm curious: What's your take on Aylin's experience after/if she kills Lorroakan?

Allegedly, there's some information floating around somewhere that said Aylin was angry with Selune after she killed Lorroakan, but I can't find where this info is.

If you saw posts about that here on tumblr it was probably posted by @justanotherignot! I've actually been meaning to gather up all the devnote tidbits about Selûne from Aylin and Isobel for a while now, so thank you for the excuse to do so and ramble a bit.

Player: I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's. Aylin: Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells.

What is happening is, well, it's the century of unthinkable horror catching up to her. It's the Trauma(TM) - in one of the conversation options she's literally triggered by the mention of someone being run through repeatedly! It's the growing awareness that although she's been freed (and possibly reunited with her love), the secret is out and there are always going to be assholes gunning for her, aiming to use her as an "artefact" and power source to fuel their ambitions, without any regard for her, you know... basic personhood and well-being. Also, Lorroakan was blatantly lying. He didn't find any super special way to siphon her immortality with "no harm, no pain of any kind", he was just replicating Balthazar's soul cage (you can even find a letter from Ketheric to him, showing Lorroakan was pestering them).

On to the stuff from the game files! First, the conversation with Aylin directly after the Lorroakan fight in the tower. I'm going to be putting the context notes in square brackets next to the lines they apply to. I also plucked some audio out from the files for some of these because I love the delivery.

Aylin: The fire-haired fool is dead. Yet as I stare upon his corpse, I feel… sadness. Why? [Slow and curious, angry and confused by all that has happened.] Player: What kind of sadness is it? / I know something of sadness - or at least the ballads do. What does it feel like? Aylin: A gripping in the chest. As though I'd lost someone, something. [Lost in thought for a moment; confused.] Aylin: A paladin's fatigue, no doubt. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side. [Remembering herself. She is Dame Aylin.] Aylin: I will catch my breath, then to camp I will bring my bones. Moonmaiden be with you. Player: Smiting is a weighty duty - sometimes it can be tiring. / Perhaps smiting has lost its pleasures. Aylin: Say it can't be so. For I am Selûne's sword. And ever must be. [She means it, but on the periphery of her consciousness is a tiny crack. Wondering about her fate.]

The above never fails to get me - she is Dame Aylin! Sword of the Moonmaiden! Glorious immortal paladin, champion of a righteous cause! She smites evil-doers for breakfast, that's, like, her whole thing! What do you mean she can't just pick up where she left off and go about her merry smitey way? What do you mean the thing that is supposed to be the literal core of her entire being (forever) doesn't feel good and glorious anymore, but just makes her feel sad and empty? No, no, no, we can't have that.

Player: One of the greatest tragedies of revenge is that it can only be taken once. / Because you won't get to kill him again? Aylin: Perhaps. Yet if I could run him through a thousand times, I wonder-- [Lost in thought, she's been triggered to remember her own fate being run through over and over.] Aylin: Battle has tired my mind, made me susceptible to flights of fancy. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side.

Aylin: I will return to camp shortly. I just need a moment to… to… [Lost in thought.]

She so very desperately needs some rest and a chance to come to terms with everything that happened and that was done to her. And it's clear it's going to be hard because she is defaulting to trying to deny anything is wrong, is clearly trying (and failing) to just be her old self immediately, has blatantly internalised a lot of that classic I Am A Sword stuff on top of everything (even though her mother is huge on free will and choice!), and is just really not well-equipped to handle any of this at all.

Next, this is the post-Lorroakan convo you get if you have both Aylin and Isobel in camp.

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just regaling sweet Isobel with tales of our prowess. Isobel: Very impressive. Thank you for helping Aylin - that wizard sounded absolutely dastardly. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - she's not sure why Aylin isn't herself.] Player: My pleasure. He had it coming. Aylin: He did, and it came. Now, my friend: bask in your victory. I will do the same. Aylin: But fear not: when the time comes for you to face the foe of foes, Isobel and I will stand by your side. [Rallying her soldierly spirit, but still a little drained.] Isobel: We wouldn't miss it. Not for anything. Aylin: Go well, friend. We will see you soon. And with our great powers combined, this city will be saved. Player: Hopefully he'll be the last. Aylin: There are always more bastards behind bastards. But we will run through them all, each by each.

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: I always do, with darling Isobel by my side. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of Lorroakan's death in your mind like silkfloss.

If Isobel isn't there (meaning she died in Act 2), you get this version:

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just reviewing our fight against foul Lorroakan; your moves and mine. The victory was soundly won. Aylin: Don't you think? [Uncharacteristically, Aylin is seeking input. She's usually so confident about everything, but killing Lorroakan has not had the intended effect on her.] Player: Indeed I do. Let his demise serve as a warning to anyone else who'd seek you out. Aylin: Let him be the last. If my dear mother has any mercy, she will ensure it. [Trying to stay her usual self, but her mask is cracking a tiny bit here. Privately, Aylin is dealing with a great deal of anger toward her mother, the goddess Selûne, But she's not yet willing to face it. How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?]

Player: We fought well - though I was a little worried about you afterward, in truth. Aylin: Set your mind at ease, my friend. Dame Aylin is more well now than she has been this past century. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - it's true she's better now than she has been, but why does she feel so shitty, then? (She's in the beginning of reckoning with the trauma of what happened to her).]

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: Yes. I wish for the very same. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of our prowess in your mind like silkfloss.

So, a few things pop out for me here. First, you get the more explicit anger at Selûne if Isobel isn't there, as opposed to the "hahah, I will smite all the bastards who dare come after me, no matter how many there are" line. "How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?" just... damn, hits hard, even if you subscribe to the theory that Selûne simply could not intervene in the Shadowfell imprisonment beyond sending those poor people whose graves you find in front of the mausoleum.

And here Aylin really lays it on thick with the denial that there's anything wrong at all. Combined with the letter you get from her in the epilogue if Isobel is dead, it just paints such a bleak, sad picture. I can just see her going all out on the Sword of Selûne duty-bound paladin side of things, no rest, no healing, no stopping even for a moment, no dealing with anything at all, from the trauma to the bitterness towards mum. Until whatever horrible breaking point comes, a year or a century from now. The need for Isobel's humanising influence is so clear. I've touched on Isobel's side of things here.

Speaking of having a bone to pick with Selûne, if you're playing as a cleric/paladin of Selûne, you can get some extra very honest dialogue with Isobel in Last Light:

Player: Why has the Moonmaiden waited until now to take an interest in this curse? Isobel: Maybe she was waiting for one of us to find this place ourselves. Free will, and all that.

Isobel: Though if it were my place to ask why she let Ketheric turn; why she allowed this village to rot at his hands - believe me, I would. [A cold edge in her voice]

Player: Are you faring all right? It can't be easy holding a lone candle in such darkness. Isobel: All things with her strength. You know the litany. [A little sarcastically. She's got a bone to pick with Selûne but isn't being too overt.]

Side note: the amount of devnotes for Isobel's lines that say she's delivering them "with swagger" and being "cheeky" makes me smile every time. Love her. Love her snark.

Also, to get it out of the way: no, I'm fairly sure Aylin did not break her oath. I see this brought up a ton and I just see no way for it to be the case. There is nothing to suggest this outside of a wording similarity and it just makes no sense. Girl is clearly some flavour of Oath of Vengeance (she uses Abjure Enemy, so this is the case even mechanically, even though she's obviously an NPC and not a standard player-build paladin) and she killed a very shitty guy who was also explicitly after her in godawful ways. You can do far worse things in the game than her dramatic speech and backbreaker and not break you OoV.

#sorry this took so long! #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dame aylin #isobel thorm #lorroakan #datamine #voice lines #audio #i'm stopping myself here but i could go on about this FOREVER #time for the comfort part of the hurt/comfort let's goooooooooo #oathkeeper replies to things

[antonsbf]

Harmonies of Love (anton) pt.1

gender neutral x anton

summary:In the trails of Korean university life, amidst the flow of lectures, friendships, and ambitions, fate orchestrates a encounter between you a foreign student navigating the maze of academic life, and Anton, a soulful music major whose melodies seem to dance in the air. As they traverse the corridors of learning, their worlds collide, igniting a spark that blossoms into harmonies of love.

As the sun streamed through your window, you blinked away the remnants of sleep, only to be greeted by the insistent buzz of your alarm clock. With a groan, you silenced it, the sound reverberating in the quiet room. Today marked your first day at Yonsei University in Korea, a dream realized through your hard work and dedication.

Excitement bubbled within you as you contemplated the journey ahead. "I can't believe I'm really here," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. Yet, amidst the thrill, a familiar feeling of doubt crept into your thoughts. "What if they don't accept me?" "Will I be able to find my place?" Pushing aside these uncertainties, you rose from your bed, feeling the chill of the wooden floor beneath your feet.

With a determined shake of your head, you dismissed the negative thoughts, focusing instead on the adventure awaiting you. Stretching, you welcomed the new day with renewed resolve, ready to embrace every opportunity that awaited you in this vibrant new chapter of your life.

As you walked into the dorm washroom, the morning light filtered through, casting a soft glow over the space. you caught sight of your roommate Shotaro standing in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him.

"Good morning, y/n," he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of excitement for the day ahead. His golden hair was slightly tousled, evidence of just having woken up, but his eyes were bright with anticipation. Shotaro adjusted his shirt collar, smoothing out any wrinkles with ease, his reflection mimicking his movements perfectly. "Do you think this outfit is good y/n?", you could see a frown start to form in his face. "Absolutely, Shotaro! That outfit is so cute!" You saw how his eyes fill up with excitement, the compliment give him confidence he needed. "Thank you, y/n" he said smiling softly. " I will prepare us breakfast" Shotaro said, moving past you and heading to the small kitchen.

As you began your morning routine, the memory of Shotaro's words echoed in your mind like a comforting refrain. Shotaro, the Japanese exchange student, had quickly become a familiar face in your "new life". His warm smile and eagerness to connect had made him a natural beacon for friendship.

During orientation, he had excitedly recounted his encounter with a fellow foreigner, a boy from the States just like you. you remembered the way Shotaro had described their conversation, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Though you couldn't recall if the boy was from New York or New Jersey, Shotaro sentiment of sticking together as foreign students resonated deeply with you.

As you put the finishing touches on your outfit, smoothing out any lingering wrinkles and adjusting your hair, the clinking of plates against the table and Shotaro's gentle voice calling out snapped you back to reality.

"y/n, breakfast is ready. Come and eat while it's hot," he called out, his voice floated through the room, the tone infused with warmth.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time, nodding in satisfaction before making your way to the table, a smile already forming on your lips.

"Wow it smells amazing in here" you said as you approached a chair in the table "Right!", exclaimed Shotaro excitedly. "I can't believe i was able to make this" said with a smuggled look. "Well, it looks great!", you said staring at the rolled omelette served with a small portion of steamed rice. "I hope you enjoy it!, it's a traditional meal in Japan, called Tamagoyaki" said Shotaro, you could feel the eagerness in his tone, as he took a sit next to you. "Wow.. really you said!" you exclaimed excitedly. "Next time is my turn to cook, okay?". Shotaro just smiled and shook his head in agreement.

As you and Shotaro finished the meal, the anticipation of the day ahead filled the air, as you stepped out of the dormitories, you were greeted by a gentle breeze. The university being a short walk away. You and Shotaro walked side by side, strolling along the path adorned with white and pink cherry blossom trees, their petals danced in the wind so dedicatedly, and you and Shotaro's laughter, which was caused by your conversation, intertwined with the gentle breeze, creating a melody of a flourishing friendship.

But as you nearred the bustling crowd of students, form on the path, a wave of nerves washed over you, causing your steps to falter. Sensing this sudden change in demeanor, Shotaro, ever perceptive, offered a reassuring smile and a comforting word, "We got each other! , so don't worry." ,his presence was calming. With Shotaro's support, you found the courage to face the day ahead, knowing that no matter the challenges that lay ahead, you had a friend by your side.

You and Shotaro resumed your steps, the weight of anticipation gradually lifted, replaced by a sense of reassurance washed over. Shotaro's voice, filled with gentle encouragement, broke the silence. "There is nothing to worry about," he said, his words laced with a comforting warmth. "We have almost all classes together," he continued, punctuating his assurance with a sweet smile that mirrored the friendship they shared.

You, a major in fine arts had a deep appreciation for all forms of artistic expression: music, art, dance—it mattered not. As Shotaro, a dance major, spoke, you offered a supportive nod, understanding each others feelings.

Your steps quickened with anticipation as y'all approached the university gates, a grand entrance adorned with the institution's emblem, standing as a beacon of knowledge and possibility. Beyond the gates, a panorama of lush greenery and modern buildings unfolded, painting a breathtaking backdrop against the canvas of the Seoul skyline.

As you and Shotaro crossed the threshold into the heart of the campus, a sense of excitement and belonging enveloped y’all.

As your shoes glided across the polished, reflective floor, Shotaro launched into a rambled about the injustice of having to attend a Korean class in the early morning. He expressed a unachievable desire to effortlessly absorb the language through some kind of magical intervention. Fortunately, attending the orientation had equipped you with the knowledge of the maze leading to y'all lecture hall.

As you step into the lecture hall, you notice how spacious the room is, with rows of desks arranged neatly facing the large whiteboard at the front. The hum of conversation fills the air as students chatter excitedly, exchanging greetings and sharing their own nervousness about the upcoming semester. You whisper to Shotaro, "This all so nerve wrecking right?" He nodded in agreeance, "It hasn't really settled in until now", Shotaro said while giggling. You couldn't help but giggle with him. " You're are so RIGHT!", you responded. "We should find a sit, somewhere in the middle?", Shotaro only nodded quickly.

You find yourself a seat near the middle of the room, feeling a bit self-conscious as you glance around at your classmates. Some faces are familiar, perhaps from orientation, while others are completely new to you. The atmosphere crackles with a sense of curiosity and eagerness. "Are you ready, Shotaro?", you said as you pulled your textbook and laptop. "As ready as anyone can be.. right?", He said almost looking anxious. You chuckled at his respondes, which in returned he began to laugh as well.

As the minutes tick by, the room gradually quiets down as the professor enters, commanding attention with a warm smile and a welcoming demeanor. She introduce herself in Korean, her voice melodic and soothing, instantly putting you at ease despite your initial nerves.

"We will all take turns introducing ourselves in Korean," she announces, her voice firm yet inviting. You sense a ripple of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness coursing through the room. With a reassuring smile, the professor adds, "To get to know each other. Please don't be afraid to make mistakes, that's why I'm here." Her words offer a comforting embrace.

Just as the moment begins to settle, the door creaks open, drawing all eyes to the newcomer. A boy saunters in, His outfit, almost like being straight from a Pinterest board, gives a sense of effortless style. Headphones dangle around his neck, a subtle statement of his individuality.

Jet-black hair, tousled yet purposeful, frames his face, the faintest hint of haste lingering in its tousled locks. But it's his hazel eyes that captivate, holding a depth that belies his shy demeanor.

As he tries to slip into a seat unnoticed, the professor's voice halts his movement. "Since you were late, how about we start with you," she says, her tone gentle yet firm. The color drains from his face, embarrassment washing over him like a wave. You can sense his discomfort, amplified by the spotlight suddenly thrust upon him.

With a hesitant nod, he accepts the professor's request, his voice barely above a whisper. Each syllable he utters feels like a delicate melody floating across the quiet lecture hall. It's flawless, leaving you momentarily stunned. You find yourself wondering why someone so adept at the language would be in a Korean class.

"Wow, Great job Anton" the professor praises, "You may take a seat now. Thank you." With a relieved exhale, he retreats to an empty spot, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing.

As the professor turns her attention to the rest of the class, he gives a shy nod of gratitude before swiftly finding a seat. Fate seems to guide him to the spot next to you, and as he settles in beside you, you catch a fleeting glimpse of curiosity in his eyes, sparking the beginning of an unexpected connection.

i hope you enjoyed <3. it's been a labor of love, and i've worked hard to bring this story to life. my name is eli and would appreciate your support as i'm new to publishing fanfics, i will continue to grow and would appreciate your support. Thank you <333

p.s: sorry for any grammar mistakes.

#kpop #riize x reader #riize #university #anton x reader #anton x y/n #riize anton #kpop bg #shotaro #lee anton #kpop idol #kpop x y/n #kpop x male reader #kpop x fem reader #kpop x gender neutral reader #kpop icons #bias #kpopidol

[gothushi]

white horse

pairing: simon x f!reader

warnings: canon s/a, simon feeling worthless, narrative paints him as pathetic because that’s how he feels, pining, one single use of y/n

note: went in a totally different direction for this but i’m happy with it. i think he deserves the world and more. i’ve left it open to your own mind whether you’re actually in a relationship with simon or not

word count: 5k

———————♡

Hands trembling, Simon hurriedly fishes his phone from his jeans pocket. Clothes scattered on the floor, pristine motel shower, towel wrapped too tight around his waist. His heart beats so hard he fears it may just pop right out of his chest, a sick feeling in his gut as he fights back his emotions welling up. Did he go too far..?

It’s subconscious, the way he dials your phone number, anxiously listens to the ring.. ring.. until you answer with a groggy “Hello?”

He steels his nerves, inhaling sharply when he hears your voice, neck straining with the effort to not break down into pieces right there. “Did I wake you?”

“Simon?” You had answered the phone before you realized you were even awake, just now registering it’s him. “No.. no you didn’t. What’s up?” You find yourself rolling over in bed, rapidly waking up. He doesn’t call often, much to your dismay, but you understand he’s undercover and isn’t able to as much as he’d like. So, to get a call so late at night, unprompted, stirs worry in you.

He feels his breath catch in his throat, shutting his eyes for a moment, “Uh.. it’s nothing.” A half truth. It’s been six days since he last called, but it hasn’t been because he doesn’t want to. If anything, he craves the comfort of your voice. He just can’t let you know he’s not okay. That he misses you. That he craves you. “I.. I just.. wanted to check in.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

He slept with Brendan. Slept with him. Let Brady touch and touch and take. He can still feel his hands all over him, his tongue on his skin, rough and sharp. Even after taking a shower, gasping for air, scrubbing his skin so hard it’s sore, washing over his growing and current bruises enough to turn them a shade darker.. it’s still there.

You can obviously tell something is wrong, can hear the way his voice wavers, how he can’t seem to find his words. Sitting up in bed, you flick on your bedside lamp and see the book you were reading discarded beside you. “I must’ve dozed off while reading, so you caught me at a nice time.” You smile, letting him hear your calm and warm tone, not wanting to push immediately.

Simon’s breath is heavy, labored. It’s audible over the phone. He can feel his throat constrict and his hands are trembling, thighs weak. Memories of Brady flash through his mind, his hands, his- It’s not like he had a choice. He has to do whatever it takes. Right? “You sound.. sleepy.” He offers, words nervous like he’s choosing them carefully, “What were you reading?” Please don’t ask please don’t ask.

You can hear it, hear his gasping, as if you were standing right in front of him. The urge to ask what the fuck is wrong is so unbearbly strong but.. you know him. Know enough to wait a moment. Glancing down at your book again, you speak, keeping a soft tone, “That series I told you about last time.. I’m already on the third book.” You laugh a little, fixing the bookmark sticking out of the pages before getting up from bed, “What are you up to?”

Even in this state, a smile touches his cut lip, remembering the previous conversation about some fantasy book you had started. “Just… getting ready for bed. Took a shower.” Another half truth. He’s still wearing the damp towel, stood in the too bright bathroom and avoiding his own eyes in the mirror. He looks awful. “The book’s good?”

“Yeah,” your bare feet pad downstairs, going to the kitchen to get a drink, “I’m breezing through it, but the series isn’t even finished so once I’m caught up I’ll have to wait for the next book.”

This is nice, it’s helping to start to calm him down a little.. but.. his jaw clenches with the effort of holding back a sob. Brady’s hands yanking his shirt up, tongue licking his skin, roughly flipping him over with strength he never wants to feel again, bared before him whilst his lip drips blood onto the wooden floor. His eyes dart to his reflection. He looks.. defeated. Beaten. Bruises adorn his sides, jaw, lip bloody and rapidly scabbing over. The shower did nothing to wash away the ache in his bones, did nothing to cleanse the feeling of being used, his hands, the nails that scratched his back and the pressure of another body atop him.

“Simon?”

It’s too much. Did he go too far? He’s completely broken himself and for what? Revenge? Justice? Cam? Is it worth it? Of course it is. Anything for his baby brother. Even if it shatters him fully.

“Y.. yeah.” It’s whispered out, realizing he hadn’t spoken. The silence between the two of you lingers. He can hear the shutting of your fridge, the way that certain hallway floorboard creaks under your feet as you go back upstairs. It’s comforting really, let’s him know you’re there, real.

Back in your room with a glass of water, you sit back on the edge of your bed, taking a swallow of the cold liquid, “Simon.. what’s wrong?”

There it is.

The way you ask him.. makes his chest ache, and his voice cracks when he answers. He hasn’t told you much about what he has to do while he’s undercover but.. you’re intelligent. You can put things together. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to steady the shakiness of his breath and to not cry. “I..” his voice catches in his throat, almost raw, and he takes a couple more forced breaths.

He can’t. He’ll cry. His throat is tight, eyes blurring with tears. Brendan even patted his head like a dog when he was done.

“Did something happen with Brady? Are you safe?” Had you been more awake, that would’ve been the first thing you asked, if he were safe.

His throat trembles again at the mention of his name. “I’m okay..” he says, voice strained. “Just.. I’m..” He feels like he’s about to crack open entirely. He’s barely got it together as is, a few words and he might fall apart right now.

You know he wouldn’t lie to you if he were to be in danger, if he were at risk of being caught or something, so that eases your worry by only a millimeter. The tone of his voice, hoarse, how he can’t find his words.. “What happened love?” It comes out oh so softly, as if you were speaking to an abandoned animal.

It hurts. It all hurts. His bruises, where he was abused, deep in his chest, his head, it aches all over and he just wishes it were gone.

He nearly bursts into tears right there just from that, as pathetic as it may be. Another deep breath as he finds the words he’s been searching for. I shouldn’t be telling her this. “Just.. Brendan and I..” His hands are trembling, fingered curled around his phone until his knuckles are white.

“Simon.. tell me.” You urge softly. You need to know. Something is eating him apart to the bone and you can tell.

He can’t help it, he’s breaking and his voice quivers a bit. “We slept together.”

His throat hitches when he says it. He hates the way those words sound put together, hates that they’re even true.

It stuns you for a moment, you didn’t know what to expect but.. pieces are clicking in your head and your own throat tightens for a moment, “Simon.. you..” You can’t cry. You won’t. For him. Not yet. “You didn’t want it… did you?”

His legs feel weak, like he might collapse. Breathing is a foreign concept to him as he swallows down more tears, trying to will them back as he glances upwards at the white ceiling. “N.. no.”

His chest is caving in on itself, the reality of it actually hitting him. And the worst part? Come morning he has to do it all over again, slip into that facade he’s been playing for months. The thought makes him nauseous.

Silence lingers for just a few moments as you process the information. You want to begin crying, to weep for him before it’s even fully settled in what happened but you can’t you won’t, you have to be strong for him. “Does he..” you form the words as soft as possible, “Does he know you didn’t want it?”

Brendan tossed him around, punched, kicked, threw him overtop the little table that shattered under his weight, the ceramic lamp cracking and cutting a spot on his hand, his lip. They had been arguing before, that’s what spurred it on. But he needed to get to Brendan, to be trusted. So he played coy, tilted his head.. and kissed him. He formed the plan so quickly in his head he didn’t have time to think of the consequences.

“No..” He whispers. “I had… I had to. Had to act like I did.”

“Oh.. Simon..”

The rooms too bright, such a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the motel room. He has no where that feels safe to hide away, heart beating at his chest. A sob escapes him before he can stop it, holding the phone tight to his ear. I didn’t have a choice. This is the only way. This was the only way.. It repeats over and over in his head like a mantra, though the words do little to ease his pain. Knees hit the wet tile floor uncomfortably as he shakes with the effort of holding back his cries, rasped pants escaping him.

You have no choice but to just listen to him break. Your brows knit together in worry and you steady your own breathing, trying to remain calm even though pure sadness and anger flood your veins. “Simon.. love, breathe..” He’s panting too hard.

He wants to scream, weep until he passes out, but he tries. He tries. “I… I need you.”

He wants your comfort, needs it. Needs your gentleness, your warmth.. even if he doesn’t deserve it.

A frown forms on your lips. He can’t, it wouldn’t be safe. At least that’s what you think right now, have been told before. Even though you crave to hold him, to cradle him, whatever he wants. “I’m here.. I’m right here. Breathe..”

He just wants to lay next to you, to forget everything. Forget Brady’s wandering hands. He inhales a skaky breath, “I just-.. don’t wanna be alone. I just want you next to me… even if I don’t deserve it.”

“Of course you deserve it.” There’s zero hesitation, “You deserve the world Simon… after.. after everything you’ve done..” All this for his baby brother, laid in the hospital.

“I know.. I just..” Simon takes another raspy breath, fingers hurting with how tight he holds his phone. He wants to beg. He wants to tell you to come get him. All he wants is you. Needs you to tell him everything is going to be okay. “I wish you were here.”

“I am, I’m right here.. I promise.” The walls too cold against his bare arm as he slumps against it, chest heaving. “I’m sorry.. I can’t imagine how much you’re hurting.”

“It’s not just the hurting..” He whispers back, barely able to force the words out. It’s like his heart’s trying to claw it’s way up his throat. Tears burn his eyes, wetting his cheeks and sticking to his lashes. “I hated it.. I hated having to… to.. touch him. I know it’s for-.. I-.. he thinks I enjoyed it and I wish I could just-.. wipe it all from my mind.” It’s a miracle he’s even able to speak right now, even though getting the words out is like nails on a chalkboard. Unbearable.

Blinking back tears of your own, you ask, “Simon..” you would never once doubt his love for Cam but.. “Is it worth it? Will.. doing this all be worth putting him in jail?”

“It has to be..” He has to believe those words. It has to be worth it. He has to believe it. “If it just stopped now.. then it would all be for nothing.” That’s what he has to believe, otherwise.. who knows, maybe it is.

A slight nod to yourself, understanding his words. Cam wouldn’t want.. this.. The thought crosses your mind but God, you’d never say that out loud to him. “You just.. have to keep him convinced.” You confirm softly, understanding his actions.

“Yeah..” He whispers again, raspy. His thumb rubs up and down on the side of his phone. “I just.. wish this was over now.” His voice cracks with another sob.

You heart breaks, tears welling up in your eyes as you exhale softly, “Sweetheart..” How can he do this..? How can he manage to keep this front up with Brady? Your heart is just breaking and you want nothing more than to kill Brady with your own hands.

“It’s just..” His words come separated, panting, crying, “It’s all so hard.” His eyes squeeze shut, head pounding with a deep ache that may never go away.”I don’t-.. how much longer do I have to do this?” He whimpers.

This case is important to him… to get justice for Cam.. to lock Brady up.. but..

“I don’t want you to do it anymore..” You breathe out, tears spilling over your lash line.

He tenses at your words, even his breathing halting, “I have to do it..” His eyes squeeze shut again so tightly they hurt, deep behind his eyelids. A couple of shakey inhales and exhales before he speaks again, “Please.. just please don’t ask me to stop.” If I stop, then I’ll hate myself more than I already do..

Your heart is breaking. It’s cracking into two and you have no idea how to stop it. You can’t. “Okay.. I won’t..” You curl up beneath the covers, leaving your bedside lamp on. The call now on speaker, you set the phone beside your pillow. A weak little thank you comes from him, whimpered, tired. “Just… don’t hold it in. Please… I’m right here and ‘m not leaving, so just let it out..” Your voice is pleading, knowing he only has tonight before going back to playing the part. Know he has to get his emotions out now before they’re shoved back down again.

He’s still white knuckling his phone, trembling, slumped against the cold tile wall as the light above the sink hums annoyingly. “I…” He felt stupid, as the tears begin to flow again, another sob clawing its way out of his throat, “I hate this.”

“I know..” You wish you were with him. You haven’t seen him in months. “Just breathe..”

Another strangled sob, words cut off, “I wish I was with you..” He’s so afraid..

“I know.. I know..” You try to soothe, keeping your voice steady even as tears slip into your hairline as you lay in bed, finger rubbing along the side of your phone like you wish it were his face you were caressing.

He feels weak, pathetic. He wishes he were strong enough to handle the fact that he’s alone in this, but he doesn’t want to. Wants you. Needs the safety of your presence, your touch, to bury himself in your chest and never move.

“Hey.. y’said you took a shower right? Why don’t you get dressed and get into bed..” The suggestion leaves you in a soft voice, like you’re speaking to a child. Despite not being there physically, you want to help the best you can.

“I.. yeah, I did.” Laid against the wall, his tired eyes scan the floor where his shirt and underwear lay before out into the dark room. He takes the time to get to his feet, nearly stumbling, trying to follow your instructions. He’s thirsty, so he gets a glass of water from the tap and downs the entire thing before getting dressed, eyes trained on the increasing time of the phone call to keep himself reassured that you’re there, before crawling into bed.

“All comfy?” Your voice almost startles him as he lays his head down. The bed is.. alright. The blankets are soft, fleece, bringing a contrasting warmth to the chill his damp hair sends through him.

“Yeah.. I...” A moment of silence passes before he resumes speaking, his voice so quiet, “Can I ask you something..?”

“Of course.” He could ask for the moon and stars and you’d present them in the palms of your hands.

“What would you do if I asked you to come and get me..?”

That would ruin everything, his mission, and he’ll never be able to look his Lieutenant in the eyes again, maybe even be fired. It’d also risk you, put you in danger. He knows all that, yet, the desire to have you here right now still lingers. Selfishly, he wants you.

“I’d do it.” No hesitation. That seems to be a theme for you and him. You stare at your phone, hoping this is him asking. You’d do anything for him, yearn to hand him anything he desires.

“You’d.. you’d come?” He’s almost certain this would ruin everything, all these months for absolutely nothing… but would.. would it really? Is this worth what it’s doing to him? “Please.. just…” He trails off, thoughts battling each other.

You, on the other end, stay dead silent. If you let your lips part, you’ll start begging him to let you come. Beg for him to leave it all behind, consequences be damned. So you wait, swallowing, listening to his even breathing as he sniffles.

…

…..

“Could… could you come get me? Please?”

There, he’s done it.

You’ve already begun sitting up before the words finished leaving him, picking up your phone. You stand, feeling the wave of panic and relief flood your system, blowing out the candle you had lit, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.. please.” It’s almost a sob, maybe it is one. Tears start to soak his face again, “Just please come get me. I don’t want to be alone. I-.. I wanna see you.”

There’s no thinking anymore as you rush downstairs, shoving your feet into the nearest sneakers you find and grabbing your keys. Simon can hear the front door shut and gravel crunch beneath your feet as you get into your car. “I need to know where you are.” The engine of your car purrs to life, already backing out. He weeps out the motel name, the bed and breakfast showing up as nearly forty-five minutes away once entered into your GPS. Fuck.

—

He wants to beg, continue to plead as he wails into his pillow, muffled. He doesn’t know how long he lays there, half asleep, body in survival mode and trying to shut down all in the same breath. You make the drive in thirty minutes, your voice startling him out of his half dozed state, “Love? You awake?”

“Mm..” Simon blinks, focusing on his phone, heart speeding up, “Yeah.. yes.. I’m awake.”

“I’m outside.” This almost doesn’t feel real. After being separated for so long and now you’re just… here. You have to stay strong, get him out of here first. Your eyes scan over the big buildings with multiple rooms, seeing the dim lights on them. A silver car is parked a few spaces away from yours and… next to it, Simon’s bike. There’s some shuffling, sniffling, feet thudding on the floor before the call ends and movement catches your eye. Up on the second floor of one of the buildings, the door opens and a tall figure slips out, jacket over his arm. He’s walking with a limp, and the sight of him makes you almost start to wail. You sniffle and wipe at your eyes, leaning over to unlock the passenger door and push it open as he nears.

He looks a mess. His lip is cut, eyes sunken and tired, face wet with smeared tears. He slips into the passenger seat, not even daring to look at you and neither do you dare to continue to stare at his face for a moment longer. You can’t, you’ll break. However you waste no time reversing from the parking spot and driving off, back out onto the road in the direction you came. It’s silent for five entire minutes and you don’t dare stop, just in case, but you do however reach and blindly grab his hand, linking your fingers together. Part of you fears he won’t even want to be touched, but it’s squashed with the way he clutches onto you for dear life.

You’re actually here. With him. You’re really here and he’s really out. He breathes in deep, trying to calm his racing heart, stow his emotions for now. Even just being in your car helps, because it smells familiar. Even as more stifled sobs leave him, he doesn’t let go of your hand, squeezing so tight it must hurt you.

—

He’s nearly cried himself to sleep again, barely feeling the way the car jostles as you pull into your driveway, the gate sliding shut behind your car. Undoing your seatbelt and reaching over, you undo his and slowly unlink your hands, not daring to look at his face yet. “C’mon, let’s get inside..” He listens, slowly, following you up to the front door, taking in the surroundings of your house again. Garage to the right, big gate and large brick walls lining the property. He’s been here countless times but.. oh.. the warmth he feels as you both step inside. A table to the right along the wall for your keys, coats hung up on a wall rack to the left, shoes scattered on the tile entrance way floor. You push open the door to the main hallway, the heart of the house, and he feels so much better.

You finally turn to look at him, both stood in the middle of the hallway, and in the dim light you fear he may see the way you crack open a bit.

He looks… broken. A bruise covers his jaw, scabbed over cut on his lip, eyes red and wet, cheeks flushed yet he’s pale. Bags hang under his eyes, dull, sad. Your hand reaches up instinctively, but you pause mid action, as if it’ll scare him.

He blinks slowly, sniffling, your touch so close yet so far.

But you pull back, “Go upstairs, get in bed. I’ll bring you some water, okay?”

He obeys, feeling comforted by your voice, the simple instruction. He doesn’t need to be pointed to the stairs, the carpet plush under his socked feet as he somehow makes it up there without his legs giving out. Not even considering the guest bedroom, he goes to yours, crawling underneath the duvet and he almost sobs again at the warmth, the smell, you. It smells like lavender and vanilla, the candle you have on your bedside table, mattress made up with a different bedspread than he remembers.

After a minute he hears your footsteps, watches as you come inside with a glass of water, kneeling onto the bed to offer it to him. Now he notices you’re in some pajamas, a cute matching set that he’d compliment if not for the circumstances. He sits up on an elbow, taking the offered drink and sipping some of the ice cold water, before handing it back to you with a whispered thank you. You set it aside and just stare, really looking at him now. “Simon…”

It’s obvious how tired he is, and the way he stares back up at you makes him feel vulnerable, not in a bad way though. “..yes?” His voice is small, barely a whisper. He’s feeling so many overwhelming emotions and doesn’t know which one to settle on. He feels grateful, safe, even though the last thing he feels he deserves is your forgiveness and warmth.

However you reach out again, mirroring your action in the hallway, pausing before your skin meets his, ‘Can I..?” Your fingers curl into your palm, nervous he won’t want the touch.

But he does want it, wants it so badly. To feel the comfort of your hand, the love of your fingers… Simon reaches up, his own hand curving around your wrist. He tugs softly, pulling your hand forward, feeling the tickling touch of your fingertips before you lean more into it and cradle his cheek. His eyes flutter, he could start crying again, if he had any more tears in him. He whimpers as his hand drops from your wrist, pushing into the touch with his eyes closed. The warmth on his bruised jaw feels so good, so safe. He looks so defeated, so broken, he’s had everything ripped away from him except you.

“Y/N..” Simon utters, it’s all he can do.

You’re so gentle, as if calming a skittish animal, thumb gently brushing the cut on his lip. “I’m right here…”

It almost brings tears to his eyes again. This is where he feels safest.

“I’m sorry..” He leans into your hand, the touch slowing his heart, and for the first time in he doesn’t know how long, he relaxes.

A frown finds its way to your lips, cradling his face, “What for?” you ask back, keeping your voice just as low as his.

“For.. everything, for..” The words won’t fully come to him, eyes fluttering halfway open as he gazes up at you, watering again, “I’m sorry, I..”

You shift, laying down ontop of the covers whilst he’s tucked under them. Your other hand comes up, and you falter for just a fraction of a second before it slides against his other cheek, cradling his face in your palms. “You have nothing to be sorry for Simon.”

He can’t help it, the moment you lay down he reaches out and pulls you close. His arms loop around you in a hug, burying his face against your neck. “I missed you.” He sniffles, lip wobbling against your skin. You cradle him back, one arm curling under his head for support and the other loops over him, hand finding his hair and petting it gently. It almost startles him, because Brendan did the same thing, albeit rougher, but your hand is so… it feels much nicer, your fingers tangling into the clean locks and scratching at his scalp.

“I missed you.”

The sensation of you caress is enough to make him curl into you more, face pressed against the base of your neck. Simon inhales deeply, smelling your body wash, the compassionate hug making him relax. His arms are tense though, as if he’s scared you’ll be taken from his grasp. Fingers paw at your back, pressing into your shirt, feeling. He needs to know you’re real. And you know that, so you let him even if it hurts a little, “Do you want me to turn the light off?” He answers with a shake of his head, a quiet ‘mm mm’, trying to wiggle impossibly closer. Now that he has you he doesn’t want to let go, fearful you’ll slip away.

“Do you.. want me under the covers?” Even if it sounds silly you have to ask for permission, petting your hand down his hair and over the nape of his neck, where Brendan’s lips were.

One little word slips from him, “Please..”

He is tired, exhausted, sore and scared, but the thought of snuggling with you, feeling your heat, your body against him, is enough to keep him awake. Your hand on his nape brings a small whimper from him, he’s so relieved you haven’t pulled away from him. He feels used, like he doesn’t deserve this touch, but here you are. Your nails scrape over his skin and it makes him shiver in a good way, bringing back memories, a comforting feeling.

A whispered okay is your response, twisting to lift the duvet up and slide yourself under it. He’s immediately pulling you into his arms again, right to his front so not an inch is found between you. The touch makes his heart race, nuzzling back into your neck, breathing in your scent like a hungry animal. He whimpers again, clinging to you for dear life.

“Shh.. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” Your chin is ontop of his head, hand back in his hair to pet and scratch, soothing him. The sensation is enough to break him completely. His lip wobbles again, blinking as tears flood his eyes, legs tangled with yours. He’s really here.. It’s all over.. he doesn’t have to go back.. He can feel your heartbeat, steady and solid. The moment the tears slip from his eyes, his grasp on you tightens desperately. He buries himself closer, wanting nothing, not even oxygen, just you.

“Don’t..” He chokes out, trembling, hiccuping a little cry.

You give him a squeeze, cradling his head and keeping him close, “What?” You whisper, “What d’you need Simon?” It’s pleading. Anything. You’ll do anything for him.

“Don’t let go. Please.. Don’t.” His fingers tense again so much they hurt, wanting to make sure you don’t fall through his grip. He needs you now more than he’s ever needed you before, your hands in his hair, your heartbeat sounding in his ears.

“I won’t.” You tilt your head down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I promise. You can go to sleep, I’ll be here, I’m not leaving.” Your hand tangles in his hair in a light grip, enough for him to know you’re there. Leaning into him, he grasps so hard it hurts, but you’d prefer the bruises of his fingertips over the absence of his body.

This is all he needs, all he wants. Forget everything else, he doesn’t want to turn to that life anymore, wants to forget it all and stay hidden away tucked beneath your duvet. Reality can wait.

———————♡

#neil newbon #neil newbon x reader #simon walker #simon walker x reader

[dairy-farmer]

You know that annoying "redeemed by a Good Woman/redeemed by puss" troupe?

I just remembered Match :Dc

Kon's evil Clone twin. The one where they actually SUCCEEDED and he's totally down to kill Superman and is also super unstable physically etc.

But consider!

Secret Relationship! Bats are paranoid after all. Can't let our enemies or Dads know we're dating! Or fuuuuuckin.

So when the switch happens? And "Superboy" gets a nasty blow to the head that gives him spotty memory? Of COURSE his... "Best Friend"(tm) wink wink nudge nudge, is gonna take care of him. The whole team obviously knows. But no one else does.

So Match has no idea what's happening.

Has he been Made? THAT FAST? Shit, Bats really ARE something else. Better kill hi-... why is he hugging me? This... IS a hug, right? He's never had one before. It's not awful.

And so Match keeps pretending to be Kon. Slowly gets "better". Forgot a lot about Robin and their Relationship, of course, so they have to start basicly over. But isn't Rob the BEST? So patient! Hand holding. Cuddles. Tender kisses.

Hand jobs.

It blows Match's MIND. This? This is fantastic. No one tells him what to do, treats him like an animal, calls him an "it", and?? He gets all these soft touches and kisses? Robin's even talking about maybe having sex "again"!

Fuck. He is TOTALLY stealing the other clone's Life. RIP to that guy. His now.

Except? No The Fuck You Don't, Bitch(tm). Kon is actively waging a one man war against his captors. Fuck these guys. Luthor in particular. He has a boyfriend to get back too and a Usurper to curbstomp. Or fuck. Depends on how hot he is and if he's a dick. Kon DOES have a well known incest kink.

Might keep him.

But back with Match? B-be gentle with him Robin~ *bats eyelashs* *shoulder smack* they're doing the whole shebang. Cabin by a lake. Pizza and dancing. Sparkling grape juice since booze won't effect "kon" anyway.

Just? Everything Tim can think off to make it fun and memorable. He even remembered lube this time, because NOW he knows Kon is too big to take without a little help. It's like a do-over, almost.

It's ALSO the moment Match's loyalties completely fuckin switch. Ride or Die with THIS guy, specifically. [Robin has given Match: The Sex. Match will now willingly die for Robin.]

It's a literally life-changing First Time for Match and a Really Good for Tim. Laughing and tired from dancing, hands roaming each other's bodies, lazily finding what feels good. Tim sighing in pleasure, a pretty little roll of his body arching his back, as he let's his legs fall wide. Smiles at Match.

His hands still loosing hugging Match close, his kissable lips, soft in a lazy grin. The body under Match relaxed and full of trust. Touching him back. Just to feel his skin, too make him feel good too. Looking at him like he's wonderful. Like he's worth loving.

IS Loved.

Match wants to worship this. Steal it away. To hell with the world and "saving" it. He uses a brain meant for grand battle strategies, to memories every twitch and squeeze around his rocking fingers. What makes Rob feel good. What makes him feel BETTER.

Kisses his way down.

Gentle. Careful, so careful. He has so much strength.

He wishes he could suck, but doesn't trust himself. Luckily his tounge draws delight anyway. He let Rob roll them. Feels cradled, between those thighs, as Rob desperately rides his face.

Takes so much control for Rob to stop. He's shaking with it. He wants to continue so BAD. But wants Match's cock more. So Match gets passed the lube. Blindly fumbles to get ready.

He hears something, flying. Probably a plane. Not important. Robin's important. Lifts him so EASY. Feels him shudder, turned on by how easy Match moves him. They line up, and Match slides in like he's always been there. He has to let go or his grip will get too tight. Amazing. Wet, hot, soft... w-words... he can't...

And THAT'S when he gets a sharp stab to the arm with an injecter and a Smiling But PISSED, grabbed-by-the-throat-hard-enough-to-break-the-bed-frame Slam from ACTUAL Kon. Who has escaped.

And found Match in bed with his boyfriend.

The injector has the stabilizing agent they were withholding. The choke hold however? That's for him. Sup, buuuuuddy. Enjoying my boyfriend? Yeah, he DOES feel good. I would know!

Give me a reason not to kill you where you lay :)

Tim is confused as hell. Still horny. But very alarmed. Two Kons? One is clearly NOT Kon. Please tell him it's not the one he's in bed with. He does NOT want to be a cheater! Kon he would NEVER cheat! (Kon knows.)

Match... offers to switch sides? He would kill for Tim. Die for him. Is in love. Wants to be a person. Is mildly to moderately insane but can TOTALLY promise to keep a lid on his Crazy.

.....also this is kinda hot. Wanna make out? Do you think Tim would enjoy that?

Kon? Is basicly? Yyyyyep. That's a 'Me but fucked up' alright! Unfortunate. Hot though. Let's keep him. He's like one of those really, really ugly dogs you kinda can't help but falling in love with.

Tim? Still impaled on SOMEBODY'S dick and just wants to know what's going the fuck on. Face in his hands. Why is he dating this asshole? Why!? *gets smoochs* oh, right. Tim loves him.

Damn it.

Fine! Fuck it! Both of you, I GUESS, get over here. Time to live out some of those fantasies Tim's had but couldn't do with only one boyfriend. Kon! Naked! You! Name? Match. Okay, Match? Move your hips! *vigorous sex noises!!!*

And so they threesome it out! Until Tim can no longer keep up. Then Match n Kon pull on pants and blow up some bases, get pizzas, and come back for "round two". It's a great week!

Tim ends up on bedrest. Looks vaguely mauled. But with a delightfully dewy well-fucked shine~ to complexion.

-🐼🐼🐼

sex with tim getting ppl to stop being evil😍😍😍!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[geometricalien]

15 people, 15 questions

Tagged by @ultfreakme thank you!! 💕💕

1.) Are you named after anyone?

My first name is biblical and since my parents are Christian and my sibling also has a biblical name, I always presumed it was bc of that. My middle name though is actually a last name from my lineage

2.) When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday! It was day 2 of being home alone since my roommate left for the week and I was feeling particularly lonely since another friend wasn't able to hang out with me the last couple of days in addition to feeling isolated from family during the holiday season Plus being on my period --- yeahhh

3.) Do you have kids?

No. Nope. Nuh uh. Ask me again in 10 years

4.) What sports do you play/have played?

I did volleyball and basketball a lot in my youth, did soccer in elementary school

5.) Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes. Mostly only with friends when we know we are being sarcastic and are playing it up? Otherwise, I'm just such a literal person I hardly use it elsewhere (even when my friends and I are joking/using sarcasm we often say "just kidding" afterwards)

6.) What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Honestly height and hair. I have such bad face blindness, and I've had it forever. But I'll remember if someone was taller/shorter than me and their hair color

7.) What’s your eye colour?

Grayish blue. They were described like ice before if that helps

8.) Scary movies or happy endings?

Depends on my mood. I like horror movies and there are just so many different kinds- I haven't found a movie that genuinely scares me in a long time though... The last one I remember was Nope. I walked out of the theater and was just watching all the clouds in the sky fkdlsajf

9.) Any talents?

Nothing is really coming to mind... I guess I'm crafty? And it shows itself in different ways. I enjoy the process of creating. Be it in writing or drawing or baking and decorating or following steps- I enjoy having a vision and creating it

10.) Where were you born?

Usa

11.) What are your hobbies?

I read books and fanfiction, I write fanfiction, watch anime and shows, cook, bake, play genshin impact. I've been playing wordle every day for almost a year now. I like tactical stuff with instructions- like legos or putting together furniture- I got this DIY book nook last week and spent like 8 hours putting it together. In school as part of the STEM program we learned how to draft both by hand and on the computer through CAD and Solidworks- those were fun. I miss that. Again it uses that same part of the brain as legos. I also like playing with cards. I have solitaire and pinocle on my phone. I was also learning how to play chess (like the strategy part)

12.) Do you have any pets?

My family home has the cat I got my 8th birthday (barn cat, brown tabby with four white socks on his paws). In the apartment though there is my roommate's black lab, half ragdoll half Siamese cat, and who knows how many fish that keep having babies

13.) How tall are you?

5'10'' (on a good day sshhh)

14.) Favourite subject in school?

MATH HELLO! (......... but also the drafting classes damn i miss those)

15.) Dream job?

Can there be such a thing as having extreme trivia knowledge on my fandoms? I'd like that alot but otherwise.... I'd like to work at one of those cat [Blank] things. Be it a café or a bar or a bookstore (that'd be awesome!!) I think that would be fun

Tagging @alienjack @szivtalan @glitt-erm @amnestyaubrey @farklelucas @brazilian-whalien52 @bloodyspade0000 @traditionalartist @illbebuyingallofthoseflowers and anyone else who sees this and wants to hop in ☺️

#ask game #tags #personal questions? #the talent and hobby one were hard #bc yeah i can do things! paint draw write sing! but i wouldnt necessarily say im Talented at them. i can pluck at a piano. dont give me a #song and expect me to play good/well in a week though. #the one thing i thought i could say i excel in was math and thats... #dont ask me to do simple math like add two numbers. i suck at quick math like that that relies on memory. bc yeah i know what 6×7 is! or #18+5! but it takes my brain a moment to find the answer or remember and process the way to solve something. #but i say i majored in math and people oooo and ahhhh and say you must be good at math!! #i hate math!! #and like- yes and i get it. sometimes i do to. #to want to major in math means you must have had some success and fallen in love with it. and yeah that success can come through innate ski #ll or trial or both. #i found that my love for math deepens when i struggle bc that makes the success that much sweeter. #i feel like there is a connection in this struggle and solving with the bringing about a vision from crafting... #maybe they just have a similar feeling of success. maybe thats all... #but its not i feel in my gut that its not. #writing a proof and beginning with a vision and seeing where the logic leads is very similar to starting a project- be it building something #or writing a novel or starting a painting. you follow the flow and see where it leads you. access if its met its goal or expectations. #and fix the mistakes and if necessary start all over with a new approach. #it is creation. #sorry for the ramblings

[steakout-05]

headcanons i have about Craig the scientist :)

as are most of the characters i have headcanons for, Craig is on the autism spectrum. he has a flat effect to his voice and facial expressions, doesn't really get most social cues, doesn't know how to react to others in pain the "right" way, misunderstands metaphors and speaks in quite a direct manner because it makes the most sense to his brain. he's quite a literal thinker. he also tends to hyperfixate so hard on a task that he forgets his basic needs and hygene, and thus has quite an unkempt look underneath that hazmat suit of his (which i will get into later!). Barry often ends up needing to get Craig something to eat because of how long he hyperfixates on something.

Craig sometimes doesn't exactly pay attention to his tone of voice, so sometimes he can say something that, to him, sounds completely normal, but because of his tone, can end up sounding really ominous to other people by accident ("We know who you are, Barry.")

Craig has traumatic cataract in his left eye (or wherever the fuck craig's visor crack is supposed to be in canon lol) from the explosion in 'Level 2' and is half blind in that eye. his eye has a very clouded look as a result of the injury. he's also got a huge scar there too that required some pretty gnarly stitches later, and his skin is almost completely numb around that area.

Craig also never really had the best eyesight before the injury, so he's always wearing these big ol' nerdy glasses underneath his helmet. and yes, they are tacked together with a band-aid lol

Craig is one of the few scientists who is not a clone of Peter Simpkins, the late friend of both Professor Brains and (in my headcanon'd canon) Craig. i like to think that Craig and Simpkins knew each other when they were first recruited by Legitimate Research and was pretty close to both him and Brains, and since Simpkins died, Brains has kind of taken more of a liking towards Craig (mostly out of loneliness and needing someone to help around at the lab, but he has a genuine fondness for him under his demanding and angry exterior).

There's a bit of a fan theory that Craig is the same guy as the scientist in the 'Robot Bird' rock opera, which i like to believe is the case. i mean, he's got the same monotone voice as Craig, it's gotta be him. i hope this does end up becoming canon because i think it'd make for an interesting conflict between Barry and Craig!!

Craig may or may not be related to Lab Lady.

Craig's counterpart in the mirror universe is named Kayla.

Craig is demiromantic and is questioning his sexuality (he thinks he might be bi or pan), though he definitely knows he loves Barry <3

Craig has an unhealthy habit of wiping his embarrassing memories, like, a lot. he wipes memories of awkward accidents in the lab, particularly painful failures, and most importantly, the memories of losing literally all his stuff and his career to Barry, which is why he doesn't immediately recognise him in the shorts. Craig has a lot of trouble recounting stories from the past because of this memory-wiping and felt a sense of emptiness, which getting hit in the head certainly didn't help with, so he tried inventing that apple in the Multiverse Madness event to get some of them back. it was pure dumb luck that Barry didn't end up witnessing what happened to Craig in the 'Robot Bird' opera and both are completely unaware of the disastrous can of worms that could have opened. bro's gonna end up like wallflower blush if he doesn't keep that memory erasing under control

and finally...

under his helmet, Craig has messy dirty-blonde hair, a rounded face that has a few stray facial hairs he forgot to shave, a long scar down the left side of his face, hazel coloured eyes and pale skin. this design is inspired by the designs made by @dexterno-artz and @schnabel53 respectively :D

this is a sketch of my finalised(ish) craig design!!! i've shown earlier versions of this guy in a couple of older posts but i haven't really revised his design much until now. i kinda had the idea of him looking like a stereotypical nerd and then made him messier. i might tone the amount of hair he has down a tiny bit but also i really like the nerdy bird's nest thing he has goin on :) i like to think he literally hasn't brushed his hair in several weeks and it's just become a bird's nest from nights of staying up doing science stuff

how i feel about barry tbh. he's literally so dumb i love him

(also apologies for the photos being kinda blurry and me forgetting to turn off the filter. again. in my defence it looks really nice and orange on my phone)

sometimes i like drawing him saying stuff from the shorts to get a feel of how he'd look when talking and make sure he looks juuuust nerdy enough for me to go "yep that's craig". also his big,g, handns,s,

drew this as a quick side profile sketch to get a general idea of how i want to draw him from this angle. he's talking to barry offscreen and falling in love with him <3

stupid little comic with a stupid little interaction that would definitely happen between these stupid little guys <3 barry being a little asshole every now and then is very entertaining to me. i need to see him antagonising craig and starting an old couple bickering argument with craig, that would heal me i think

i think i'll post more of this design in the future, i really quite like it a lot :)

#jetpack joyride #craig jetpack joyride 2 #jetpack joyride 2 #headcanon design #yeag sorry the photos are so fucked looking #my room does not have good lighting.... like..... at all #my sketchbook is also literally falling to pieces lmao #i'm gonna get a new one soon but damn. my poor sketchbook #i didnt even do anything to it....... why must it fall apart and die on me.......... #anyway YEAH craig design!!!! #i quite like this design a lot #i feel like there's something that could be added to it but i don't wanna make his design more complicated than it already is #that first drawing of him kinda looks like his eye is bleeding lol #it's just a really big scar dw #craig having traumatic cataract was inspired by my dog getting traumatic glaucoma in his eye #also i think craig would go hard as like. a character who's similar to wallflower blush #except instead of everyone forgetting her but her remembering them #it's craig forgetting everything that happened to him and then finding a way to restore the memories and then he gets SO PISSED at barry #they'll sure need a lot of couple's counselling after that blunder #i kinda wanna make designs for steve and toni #especially steve!!! #how do you think they'd identify steve from the other scientists. would barry just stick a big piece of paper with an S on it to his face #answering my own question: yes he would absolutely do that #steve is the one i feel like both barry and craig tease the most #i find steve literally being so nervous about being perceived that he runs away and damages property to be extremely relatable #also fun fact: craig's hair and eye colours are kinda based off the colour i see the word craig in??? #ok this is gonna be tricky to explain but i think i might have grapheme colour synesthesia #it's basically a condition where you can see or VERY heavily associate colours to a specific number or letter #and for some reason my brain has christened 'craig' as being a very specific sort of yellowy green! it's what i see in my head when i think #-of the word 'craig' so i decided to make him kinda blonde and have hazel eyes (which is basically a mix of green and yellow)!! neato!!

[lucifer-kane]

Are there any fictional characters you think you resemble, either in appearance or in personality?

Interesting question, I do enjoy stuff like this. Hmm. I don't... really think so? At least not that I've come across. I would like for some characters to look or have a similar personality, it would be neat! I think the most I could think about, but it's really only one thing, is Warren Godby (Red Valley podcast) and Lloyd Allen (Shaperaverse) in terms of their anger issues and how they deal. Other than that? Especially personality and how my autism shapes it, it's. Rough? It's something.

I feel like unless I headcanoned a character (since I primarily listen to audio drama and most of those, characters don't really have canon looks) to have similar features to myself, none of them would really have my body type/appearance. But that's more a thing of the lack of fat people in media, even trying to find real people who have similar body types to myself is hard

#my face is very... small? my features arre very close together it seems to me #especially when it comes to like. my mouth to chin ratio. not a lot of space between the two #idk if this is what you wanted or if i described things well enough! #i generally also don't have a good personal view of myself but that's mostly the autism #it's also hard to find autistic characters who aren't like. smart. im not smart! and im not saying that as a diss #im not smart i have hellish memory problems and the best i can do is parroting things that i remember well bc of hyperfixation #even then it's all so stressful. the only reason i got the grades i did in school was the classes i had that were remedial #i failed two seperate science classes (granted that was mostly bc of the teacher but also the science classes i had to take were hard) #tho i had a much better time in anatomy than the ones i took before then switched to anatomy sr year to fill out my final science class #despite the councoler being like 'idk i think that'll be too hard for you' and granted. it was #i passed but it was bc the teacher was fun adn cool and stuff and /helped #okay i didn't mean the tags to get like this im sorry ksldjfklsd

[death-and-the-codein-scene]

Girl who’s stuck in a time loop but doesn’t want to leave because she’s mastered 4 new languages and many new crafts and is having the time of her life just being able to relax without the pressure of modern society. One day she decides to hang out with her friends because it’s been a quite few loops since shes hung out them only to find out she’s now unrecognizable to them and think she’s pulling a bit. Now she has to decide between leaving the comfort and security of the time loop where she can’t have any more meaningful relationships or leaving the loop and having to start over because she can’t possible continue as things were

#I would fuck in a time loop #I would absolutely love it for a bit #but then ultimately I would become a completely different person and I would have to start over #and there is a very good chance I know way too much about my friends that they don’t remember telling me #so they wouldn’t remember any bonding moments we had in the loop #god I love the implications of time loops #story about the aftermath of a time loop that’s a tragedy #cuz in Groundhog Day it makes sense that when he goes back things are better because he was an asshole to begin with #but just like some guy gets stuck in a loop and eventually gets out #yes he’s definitely a better person now but the girl he pursues and now knows everything about #has to try and live up to all these memories of her where they had bonding moments #all those key moments where she gets comfortable enough to tell him something is set off by the fact he knows already #and she Knows he’s not a stalker she knows about the time loop #but it’s just every moment in their relationship feels wrong to her #like if I was that girl I’d have to break up with that guy simply because the relationship was actually built on remnants of moments that #never happened to me #and if I someone stuck in the loop I’d seriously consider staying simply because I would not want to start over with my life #I’d have to quit my job and probably find new friends #don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t hold it against my old friends but it’s like getting different friends in collage because you don’t have #much in common with your highschool friends. no hard feelings just people change #hell i probably finished my degree while I was in the loops and studied other stuff too #now I gotta go through it all again because I would need the official credentials to get the job I would want #like the girl in Palm Springs is an expert in quantum mechanics #but has absolutely no credibility past the loop to show people #also I’d have a hard time explaining to everyone how I became an expert musician overnight #HAHAHAHAH #the time loop movie I’m watching right now basically has a right of passage for each family member to get stuck in a loop #they don’t tell anyone about though lmaooo

[kdramacrybaby]

Okay I have some thoughts about this drama that I need to get out cause I don’t know how to feel about it just yet

#alchemy of souls: light and shadow #alchemy rant #alchemy of souls #drama rant #so on one side i am wanting so hard for bu-yeon to regain her memories #i wasn’t sure if i would like the explanation of how they brought her back but it does make sense within their universe so that’s #an issue for me #and every time she remembers something new I’m there 👀 like a complete clown cause i know it’s too early in the story for her to actually #remember just yet #destined lovers and all that is a pretty good trope that usually works for me and probably will in this drama too #buuuuut… on the other hand this version of Bu-yeon is probably my favorite version #i liked Mu-deok a lot don’t get me wrong #but there’s something about bu-yeon i like more #so thinking about how she may change drastically when getting her memories back makes me a bit sad #they’re probably not even that different and I’m just being dramatic but still #and somehow the story of Uk finding new love would be just as good to me i think #of course they would have to explain a bit more about naksu really being dead and all that #but i really wouldn’t have been that mad if bu-yeon had been a new seperate character and a new love interest #but then again Mu-deok (and previous Bu-yeon) and Uk were such a good couple too #i really can’t decide what i want the most right now #i know of course (or y’know am pretty sure) how it’ll go #but yeah #idk how to feel just yet #either way though i will probably still love the drama so 🤷🏼‍♀️

[alittleemo]

.

#genuinely not sure where to go . who to ask. do you just drive to cemeteries and ask for their directory. do they have those. #not at a point where i can ask my mother. have not heard his name from her mouth since july. not sure i could stomach hearing it now. #ive read the obituary again. all it says is the service address. private internment. the church is too small for him to be there. #reading a wikihow on how to find people graves. if it wasnt so sad it would almost be funny. he would probably laugh. #going home soon. the light is never on in his old room. the path between our houses is overgrown. #two winters ago i used the front sidewalk to shovel snow from the path. they had already moved. i didnt go inside. i remember it anyway. #hard to go through summer when i will hear his name for an entire month. funny that i was born that month but it was your name. #there isnt a guide on grieving for your childhood best friend but i wish i had gotten something. no one ever talks so why would it change. #so rare we were all at dinner that night. sister couldnt reschedule her sat. missed the funeral. no one told me until the night before #classmates from ccd. didnt expect it. so rare to see boys cry. my first funeral. i didnt bring any tissues. no one told me to. how would i. #wish i had been there again. sitting in your kitchen swinging outside and in the basement. making potions. camping in the drive. sledding. #drafted a tag about going on swings with you again someday. realized it read verbatim my memorial for you. you have to come down. #when i get home ill find your stone wherever it is. ill leave you some coke and mentos. save me a seat for now. #long post #going to bed now. good night. #lee's bullshit

[beetleevil]

.

#idk what made me think about this but a good memory is when i was little like before 2012 #my mom was trying really hard to get me this one toy and i wasn't quite sure what it was exactly but the way she was describing it sounded #cool so we went looking all over a bunch of different places for it and right when i thought we wouldn't find it we did #and i remember picking it up and skipping all the way down the toy isle so excited and i look up at my mom and she's got the brightest #smile ive ever seen and she looks so excited #it's still the coolest fucking toy ever too (pic related) #i want this toy again i even remember the way all the candy tasted it was so cool i had a fucking blast with it

[dan-crimes]

Me when my sibling has Algebra homework and someone has to help 😨

#I use to be good at school and math or whatever #but I have a very bad memory I barely remember how to do any of it like usually it'll ring a bell but I gotta like #look at examples to actually remember how it's done and actually having to THINK #man that's illegal #anyway they're doin a lotta graphing in school and I have NEVER been good at graphs that is not one of my strong suits #I kinda helped a little I guess at least I'm still insane enough to look shit up for hours in order to find an example to figure it out #and I hate to say that I still enjoy learning 😔 I've always enjoyed learning it's just my brain doesn't allow me to do that well anymore #headache gang 🤙🤙 #if I think too hard my headache instantly kicks in like I always have one but it gets to the point of being debilitating ya feel #anyway the horrors of having younger siblings and them getting to the point of harder problems on school

[mars-ipan]

GUYS I DISCOVERED A WONDERFUL WAY TO COMBAT PHYSICAL ANXIETY IF UR LIKE ME AND IT MAKES U GAG

fucking.

hum a song you like when brushing your teeth/worried you’re gonna gag. it overrides the gag reflex enough to give you time to calm yourself down and do what you need to do. plus you get to hum a song you like

#FUCK yes dude. i LOVE finding a good coping strat #discovered it last night when i was brushing my teeth before bed #i was worried abt tooth brushing and my brain pulled this vague memory of that advice #and i thought. may as well try it. and it WORKS #and i remembered it just now when i was brushing my teeth #and it makes it so much easier. i was able to get the undersides of my top teeth #that’s hard even when i’m not anxious #that fucking owns. hell yes

[dexaroth]

looong post about missing using backpacks and high-school experiences and personal feelings on the general 'busy/executive' look from carrying luggage and stuff. idk lots of thoughts here to summarize

theres this one hole that being done with high-school left me that's just. having a place to go. being busy, sort of..

having a backpack full of trinkets and your pencil case filled with clips and highlighters. or the rare bunches of printing and colored paper for the art projects or those mathematical rulers you used 3 times the whole year

and most importantly.. the feeling of being a Guy who has Places to go. look at all this luggage! the amount of things I need that goes beyond a simple bag! quite the work eh?

of course half of that perception is just 'wow! executive adult with responsibilities!' but not entirely, there are definitely tasks that require a lot of gear and stuff. filming crews, folks with laptops etc. and then there's the elusive Guy with a Big Bag With Wheels. thats the peak of the ideal

as with everything in my life specifically it all circles back to being disabled and having to stay at home bc I literally am not capable of physically doing anything even remotely close to what the generic student/employed person does and I think that helps a lot to the kind of romanticized view I have of this sorta thing

in a good day a majority of people would rather not have to carry and worry about a pack full of stuff or having to carry the weight of a computer and then some. but it's not that bad if you like/love what you're doing even if it requires those things yknow?

every year of high-school, even if it was the worst experience of my life that degraded me mentally physically and made me so fucked I had to cut myself in between or during classes.. I still looked up to the starting week and the feeling of a kind of new beginning. and packing everything to be super ready to whatever was to come like I was about to spend a month in the wild or climb a mountain

camping and stuff is another kind of 'look at all this shit we're packing and gadgets we have to make fire or little lanterns or makeshift homes (tents) that we have' and its just. holy shit man you sure are busy with a lot of stuff to do huh. and you've got the money to buy it all and friends to enjoy it with you. and you're going to the woods for fun and not to run away from your life because everything sucks. you've got your life all figured out! if only I could also match this unrealistic utopic vision that's sold in every sleeping bag package lol! 🙃

and the rest of this romanticized view also extends a bit to gender and self esteem in a way

of course I, a disabled person, would love to be a person that Can go places and even Has places to go and is important enough to have a complex task that needs all that luggage. and looks like a guy. maybe even a fancy guy with fancy bags and fancy clothing. it's all very important, being all that! unlike being a nobody that has to ask for a seat bc he can't stand for 2 minutes without crumpling like a wet sock because of his fucked up spine and spaghetti muscles

everybody looks up to someone who has something that they don't and wish they had or were like.. and I'm so miserable I just wish I mattered enough to be that average guy crossing the street with his bag on his shoulder. and it just so happens that's asking too much of life in my case

#i even managed to find possibly the prettiest backpack that ive had for like 6 years or more by now #when we were re-stocking on school supplies one year #its got more than 8 pockets on the front and is a silvery black with a subtle camo pattern in it. everyhting i could ask for #and its just picking up dust in my wardrobe now. i legit feel bad bc its such a good backpack #last year i had a college class that actualy required writing materials (unlike the other programming classes which had the uni's pcs) #and i was so excited! finally i can justify using my backpack!! but the weight was just not worth it bc of my back. and i already had a> #>notebook binder that was good enough so.. no luck. #self harm mention #<can never go too long without mentioning it huh.. #its hard not to.. just prodding my brain for any crumble of memory of the time i was still in highschool but its all gone. pure fog. #and to have the parts that i do remember being genuine torture and making me want to kill myself every week because of it #suicide mention #<lol anyways. its just crazy. to think i somehow managed to scrape by living like that for a decade despite it all #knowing full well the amount of pain it was to go through 3(?) stories of stairs at least twice everyday carrying 5 books in my back.. #..and still longing for just the image. of being someone once. going Somewhere. the privilege-even if temporary-of having a path to follow #college will start soon and while it isnt as soul crushing as hs was it does not spark a single grain of joy in me. #even if i got to use my backpack and pretend i had something to do id still be doing it with distaste. its not fun anymore. #everything fucking sucks and i dont know how much else ill be able to block it and pretend i dont fully exist.i wanna strangle someone‼