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#gotta know what the breakdown is here.....
nohoperadio · 1 day
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Here's a little breakdown of my personal relationship/non-relationship with various types of aesthetic self-modification (?, I feel like there might be a word or at least a more elegant phrase to denote this category). The point is not to offer my "take" on each thing but to express the different feelings/desires/inhibitions my psyche manifests around them. Some of these will approach awkwardly personal territory, fair warning! You may notice that basically none of them are especially positive; I'm going to leave off from analyzing that pattern for this post.
Tattoos -- I think tattoos as a concept are extremely cool, frequently they're cool in practice also and I like seeing other people's, but I don't think I've ever had even the smallest urge to get one for myself. I'm not totally sure why. The lack of an obvious thing to get is one factor, I feel like "band tattoo" would be the most likely thing for me to have but I don't like the idea of directly lifting a band logo or album art and I really don't like the idea of a lyric tattoo (I offer no justification for these prejudices), so I'd have to get clever with it if I'm doing that and I'm not very clever. More broadly, I predict that my enthusiasm for any artwork I put on my body would fade through overexposure in a matter of weeks if not days--other people describe "barely knowing it's there" after a short time--which on top of making the value of the project seem dubious, I feel like having a permanent image on my skin that I don't actively love would be something I'd feel bad about rather than neutral. Like "man, that thing's on my arm and I don't care about it at all, that sucks" rather than just not noticing it. Maybe I'm wrong about that.
(Tattoos are the one that got me thinking about this whole subject I think, it feels like they're reaching a ubiquity in the culture where it's almost like you're expected to have a reason not to have one rather than a reason to? Maybe that's just a people-I-know thing, anyway it got me thinking about why I don't want one.)
Piercings -- An interesting thing about me and piercings is that it's virtually impossible for me to notice when somebody has them unless I'm like, actively consciously scrutinizing their face (or whatever it is). When I was about ten months into my current job I asked my co-worker who I worked closely with almost every day "hey when did you get that septum ring" and she was like "well way before I met you". That is simply how it is with me and piercings and I make no apology.
If my inability to perceive piercings (perceirvings...) makes me indifferent to the idea of getting one, what makes me actively hostile is the total certainty that I would fiddle with it constantly if I did. I know these hands and their ways and there would simply be no dissuading them, it would be so bad you guys, oh my god. This is probably the hardest no on the list I think, although I haven't finished the post yet so idk maybe I'll think of a worse one.
Makeup -- There's undeniably a lot that's very beautiful in the universe of makeup and there's also the weird dark side, I have dabbled a little in this area and in my heart I feel more positively than not about it, but it's just never going to be a sustainable part of my life because (not unrelated to previous para) I am a perennial and unrepentant face-toucher. I will be itching and rubbing my face-skin and also inflicting other hard-to-characterize punishments upon it (is this "stimming"?) until the day I die and anything that wants to be on my face has just gotta deal. It would probably be better if this was not the case but I don't make the rules, sorry.
Haircuts -- When I was a child I haaaaaated getting my hair cut, like the physical sensation of it? Was so horrible and would usually make me cry and always ruin my day (is this "sensory overload"?), I didn't understand why I was being made to go through this ordeal and basically as soon as I reached an age when I realized my mom couldn't literally force me to do it if I just stubbornly refused hard enough--that age was 13 I think--I stopped. I haven't had a professional haircut since that time although I'm sure I could cope with the sensory aspect at this point, it's just not a habit I ever picked up again (I've had a couple of non-professional ones from my ex who just kind of wanted to try it, in a not particularly ambitious or dramatic fashion). Sometimes I feel like I should, but idk. My hair as it stands is not optimized for making me look hot but I don't think it looks especially horrible either, it's just kind of whatever I think.
Complicating factor here: I've had trichotillomania since I was 15/16, and it's hard to imagine it going away at this point but it's a lot more under control than it used to be, to the point where you can't really tell just from my appearance that something's up now. I say "under control", I have very little conscious control over it and usually no conscious awareness that I'm doing it, but over the years the compulsion seems to have unconsciously settled into a routine where it's just kind of... sculpting my hair into a more-or-less normal silhouette? Like I sort of have a fringe and stuff despite no haircuts. Oh I guess this doesn't make sense unless I clarify that I mostly break rather than pluck the hair nowadays, that's a big part of the gradual unconscious shift that's occurred.
A fun thing about trichotillomania is that it often makes people really uncomfortable when you talk about having it, which sucks for me because it makes me feel lonely, but I guess it sucks for the person feeling uncomfortable too in a smaller way. If you're one of the people who feel uncomfortable around this topic, sorry! Quite genuinely.
Gender transition in general -- I feel like I'm just, just on the boring side of cis-by-default. I think about transitioning shockingly often for someone who's never gonna do it, like it's not searing a hole in my heart or anything like it is for a lot of people but it occupies that "it would be cool to learn an instrument" kind of niche in my thoughts, if that makes sense? (Probably a bit stronger than that analogy makes it sound, it's on my mind frequently but not with a massive sense of urgency attached I guess is what I'm getting at.) I can see myself taking the plunge if the medical technology was like 10% better, or the social technology was like 20% better, or with some medium-sized changes in how my personality was configured, but this life being this life there's no way in heck the juice would be worth the squeeze. If I had one fifth of the executive function required to do all of that lying to doctors and learning how to clothes shop and having awkward conversations with people in my life and all the rest of it, well I can list like ten things I'd rather spend it on first. And I don't!
Glasses -- Love wearing glasses, 10/10 no notes. I knew since I was like 11 that my face should have a pair of glasses on it and I was very smug when the optician agreed (I did not cheat on the eye test in any way for what it's worth). The only times I'm not wearing glasses are sleeping and showering. I don't even carry a case because there's no point because I simply don't ever take them off. This is probably overkill, I think as a kid I was instructed to only put them on when I need to see something in the distance, ignoring that and just wearing them permanently has probably led to my vision weakening to the point where they're now pretty much mandatory in every situation, but I don't give a shit about that because just let me wear my goddamned glasses okay, fuck off. It's actually crazy how much I like wearing glasses, this is the only true thumbs up on the list.
I remembering trying to explain how I like my glasses to a then-close friend of mine many years ago when the subject of laser eye surgery came up in conversation, he said I should get the surgery and then just wear glasses with non-prescription lenses. When I tried to explain why that wouldn't be the same at all he was adamant that I was just being stubborn. That guy was a wonderful person in many ways and I loved him very deeply, but man what a dumbass thing to say.
Facial hair -- There are so many great beards and moustaches in this world, there are few more cheering sights than someone bearing some swish whiskers who's pleased about it, but personally I don't wish to be involved in that business at all.
I never learned how to ride a bike -- Obviously this one doesn't belong on the list, it doesn't fit with any of the other categories, and yet I feel compelled to include it here. And why should I resist that which compels me? This is my post. Yeah, I'm the oldest of four siblings, we were all given bikes at the appropriate kid-on-bike age, the others picked it up but not me. I liked it when I had stabilizers on my bike, then they took them off and I started falling off the bike, and after a very short amount of time I gave up. Like I didn't get mad injuries or anything, it just felt like I wasn't improving at it quickly enough and I didn't feel like keeping it up so I didn't. Early indication of my bad personality.
Fashion in general -- Clothes shopping has always been extremely aversive to me for whatever reason, it's gotten a little better in recent years, I have been able to exist inside clothes shops for long enough to purchase a small thing or two, but eh. Most of my tops are band t-shirts I bought at gigs, most of my bottoms are exactly identical pairs of jeans, there's just not much going on you know? But unlike with most of the items on this list I would really like to be doing this properly. I would like to wear cuter things with prettier colours and designs. This one's an actual goal. But so far I haven't really made progress. The aforementioned shopping sucks thing, plus a fear of being so aesthetically clueless that I just make myself look like a big idiot if I try anything risky, plus the fact that doing things that are not my established routine is tricky in general--these are barriers for me. I guess another barrier is that the things that would be most interesting to try out and therefore most potentially motivating fall into the wrong-gender-clothes category and therefore bring into play some of the barriers from that other category a few ones up. I did actually somehow get myself to dabble in that area some years ago to a modest but positive degree of satisfaction. It'll probably happen again. The patterns and causes that determine whether I can or cannot find motivation to engage in a thing--they are mysterious indeed.
Like horn implants or whatever other crazy miscellany -- I don't want anything in this category and don't have any non-trivial thoughts about it either. Including this section for completeness only.
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Well, there you have it, that's the post. Now you know a bit more about some of my little weirdsies. If you actually made it through the whole thing, a) how interesting and b) why not tell me a little weirdsy of yours in return, whether it pertains to the above list or not? Why not get all antiphonal on my post, that way I'd get to know a thing about you as well, it might be a whole fun kind of deal. You don't have to though, I didn't make this post to try to snare people into letting themselves be known, I just kind of made it to be a post mostly. I make all sorts of kinds of posts you know? And so I thought I'd try one that's like this.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 11 months
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#theres a special kind of agony in tryinf to find an apartment in an college town with a housing shortage#everythings expensive as fuck and im sure its frustrating for everyone but i feel like its especially frustrating for me#bc it takes me so much fucking time to understand the information right in front of me and then i doubt myself so i have to check and check#and double check and triple check that im on the right website. that im inputting the right info#and its like. what if theres a better place i could b looking? like i found a management place to apply to thats expensive but less#expensive than another place but the building looks like its kinda on the edge of town like 15min drive from school#which i hate bc im an anxious freak and its gonna b worse than driving here bc itll get icey as fuck there#like proper inches of snow all winter. negative negative cold. so its like. do i take a nice apartment thats kinda far away#or a slightly more expensive apartment thats like 10min from school and more in town#and then theres the application stuff. and i cant fill anything out without having a full on like sobbing breakdown#but im that way abt everything. i do that all the time when i have to buy plane tickets#its exhausting. and i cant plan my exit until i know when i can move into a place. whatever. it doesnt help that my hormones r fucked rn#or i hope its the hormones. ive been so tired. so so tired. like sleeping 9hrs and still tired when usually im wired after only 7hrs sleep#i hate it. and super brain foggy. and this week i have to finish taking measurements for the last time#so i gotta decide if im gonna go in tomorrow or Monday to start it. its gonna suck so bad bc im gonna try to do it in 6 days. which will b#agony. but after that ill never have to do it ever again. ugh. im just so tired and i dont wanna limp my way into a new project feeling#like damaged goods. which is exactly what it feels like now. ive just done a very good job of making my job difficult#cant go into the lab without feeling physically ill. drained away all my joy. now theres only a sad distant recognition of how far ive#allowed myself to fall. i kno ill feel better once i have a place to stay and i can quit my job just getting there is taking an eternity#unrelated
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dadbots · 8 months
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August… time to get spooky.
#dadbots.txt#this has been in my draft for... almost a month. Yikes.#I’ve been dissociating hella hard these past months or something. swear I don’t remember time moving this fast. maybe it’s just me tbh.#idk what to say about July other than… boring? not much happened and I don’t really remember it if I’m honest. just. mm. shrugs.#best way to describe it LOL#been sleeping a LOT lately and I think it’s fatigue again. was it like anything before? no. not at that rate (yet) but just.#where you wanna sleep and sleep and sleep type of fatigue. you never feel rested and just gotta sleep it off kinda.#just one of those moments yknow.#it sucks. all I’m doing is letting the days pass me by and ‘missing out’ on living life when I could be enjoying it. but I lost interest -#- in doing so for months - years now due to personal health matters. And whaddya know - it came back again. after months of healing.#I'm pretty pissed as it does feel like a slap in the face. but you win some - you lose some. Gonna try and fight through it.#I wrote something at the beginning of august but that got deleted. Had a breakdown and thought huh. what a great way to start the month -#and now it's almost september. Just like that. What a month it's been. Stuck on what else to say but that really.#don't want to keep talking about depressing stuff as that's what i used to do and realized hey. maybe you should stop doing that so often#and not use it so casually in humor and/or stuff. Even though I reblog vents here n' all. but yknow.#maybe it is hypocritical. but that's not the point. Just want to reflect and see if i've changed since coming back to the web after a year.#not like it's going bad. just wished this year was a bit more optimistic. Last year was rough & i'm afraid this year will be another repeat#though I did come out to a family member this month and that was like a punch to the gut. Considering my status with them and all.#won't get into that. for now let's just say i'm not too close with them. An impulsive choice on my end but hey. it went well.#and that's what matters tbh. My younger self would've thought i was actually insane. like to even DO that? really?#shocking. I'm still not over that moment. Probably one of my biggest achievements this year.#I'll update this if anything else comes to mind. none of this make sense and that's ok. clearing my mind right now.#let's see what september has in store for me. Hopefully it'll get better as things slow down w/ winter on its way.#hope y'all enjoyed your summer. 🖤🤘🏽
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zukkaoru · 1 year
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ended the year by reading an i.tfs fake dating fic that very nearly has me in hysterics. not because it was sad but because i love fake dating fics and because i know these characters will never be that happy in canon👍
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dandyshucks · 2 months
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ack ough augh me when paranoia gets the better of me smh smh dfsjkl
anyways i am having a rly weird night and deleted the post w the oc first concept drafts, but I can tell yall that their names are Philby and Theodor :]
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smolsaltypan · 2 months
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29121996 · 3 months
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#it is . Only Thursday n to recap the last 48hrs Alone;#i got fired . had a job interview . hung out w AFew People n did so mucb socialising .#had a Breakdown and a BreakThrough . and saw [redacted] uptown .#that alone is smty i amnprocessing bc what the fuck was tonighy . genuinely what the fuck am i doing and wit essing rn.#AHHHH nope. i cannot rmb this tmr i will habe to kms#oh my god . no.#fuck that mf for always makinf me feel that Thing bc damn if he doesnt . look good n set of a set of alarms i mn me#dawg . i am forev mer fuckrd as long as i live here fr . some9nes gotta move ! bc i cannot . move on romanrically if he is just .#iut here existinf and showing up to places im at . n sendijg me odd mssgd at fuck ass hours of the night like .#everything abt this n him isnso Intrigueing to ne n its addictive .#yea im fucked. truly fucked#i know i could like . Potentuslly Move On eventually and i Will .#but i know how icwork . n i do hate what that mwans tocme. awful. fucking awful.#why a MAN . whyd i have to add anothrr man to that room !!!!!!! dawg !!!!!!#rmb joking abt how if it didnt work out w him id have ti date women#n i fear i may have been right tbh. like no man is Cutting It Close. nocone does it for me like him :/#i checked mt tumblr following today . theres abt 13#1.3k of u fuckers#logically mosy od them are dead or bots#but still . thats an insane amt#anyway . my insane obsessuon w . how hr works . dawg.#sometimes i will see him or come across a photo of him n i will rmv why i do love him .#n its so fucking awful bc i am just . Fucked. im so fucked. n all of this Sucks Ass.#n idk what tocdo abt it. eho the fuck am i supposed toctslk to abt it.#logivslly him but i cant do that . even tho him brekaing nc tecgnicslly means freegame vc Dawg what thebfucj#but . i genuinsly do Not know what to fucking say. n that Sucks lol.#like.
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wernerherzogs · 5 months
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waywardsalt · 8 months
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at this point it looks like when i write linebeck i Have to include some kind of breakdown scene or moment
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galariangengar · 1 year
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💭
#…… I feel like I’m giving up on my dream of being a nurse….#I’ve been scared for the past couple of weeks cuz I tried to apply at the local community college for a couple classes#but I couldn’t get into any classes cuz I fucked up and let my anxiety get to me and tried to do this at the last minute#and I’m tired of how things are and how my life has been the past couple years and tired of living in this house and sick of my mom#like I really want to just get a job to save up money and I can move out/get my own place and get away from my parents#I still have to wait till like April to hear back from 3 schools I applied to back in the fall#if I get accepted to at least one of them/then I’m gonna absolutely accept and attend#if not then I’m kinda fucked and gotta get a job and start saving money to move out#I just… don’t wanna work in a place for my degree like I hate physical/occupational therapy and training etc etc#I also like don’t wanna be stuck being like a receptionist or something and stuck on the phones or some shit…#if I do get rejected/ I wish I could just go to the technical nursing school here but I know my dad won’t let me…#I just… don’t want a job that I hate and don’t want issues at a job like with what my parents are dealing with with their jobs#hell I’m even considering becoming a phlebotomist cuz school for that is hella short and you make some good money#I’m so fucking tired of life and everything… I’m having a breakdown#squid sister says stuff
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steddiehyperfixation · 5 months
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don't you forget about me (part two)
(part one)
Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there in silence, waiting. It’s making him insane. The seconds pass too slow; the seconds pass too fast. His mind is a storm; his mind is empty. He’s feeling too much; he’s not feeling at all. He paces the room; he sits catatonically against a wall. He needs to get out of here; he needs to stay. 
He’s been here before, just barely over a week ago, tense and anxious and despairing and waiting for news. But waiting to hear if Eddie will ever remember him again really should not feel this much worse than waiting to hear if Eddie will ever fucking breathe again. Steve thinks there must be something wrong with him. He’s being selfish and stupid. His pathological fucking need to be loved is not what’s important right now. Eddie is alive and awake and okay and that’s the only thing that really matters. That’s the only thing he should really care about.
Steve’s pacing again now, yanking his hands through his hair as he does laps around the room until Eddie finally appears in the doorway. 
Eddie must’ve just cracked a joke or something because the nurse is laughing as she pushes his bed into the room and he’s got this adorable grin on his face. Steve’s heart twists in his chest and he nearly bursts into tears all over again because god does he want nothing more than to press a kiss to those dimpled cheeks. 
“Good news, boys,” Eddie announces. “My brain is fully intact.”
“There’s no physical permanent damage to his brain,” the nurse elaborates. “His amnesia is likely a result of psychological trauma and the temporary disruption of brain function from blood loss and lack of oxygen that occurred at the time of his injury. But there is no obvious reason why he shouldn’t regain his full memory, given time.” 
So there’s hope. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. 
“That is good news,” Wayne agrees. 
Steve asks, “How much time?” 
The nurse gives an unhelpful shrug. “Impossible to say. It could be anywhere from days to months, or even years. I’m sorry, there’s no way for us to know.” 
Years. “Okay.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He can keep it together. He can. “Thanks,” he tells the nurse. “I, uh-” He makes the mistake of looking at Eddie who looks right through him, and Steve can’t keep it together anymore actually. “I gotta update the kids,” he mutters, backing his way towards the door. Wayne nods in acknowledgment; no protests this time at Steve’s excuse to leave.
“See ya, Harrington,” Eddie calls after him, casual, impersonal, like they're nothing more than acquaintances passing by each other in a high school hallway.  
Steve can’t get out of that hospital fast enough. 
He makes it to his car in record time, slamming the door shut and sinking heavily into the driver’s seat. A ragged sob tries to claw its way up his throat now that he’s finally alone, but he forces it back, staving off his breakdown for just a little bit longer. As much as it was an excuse, he really does have to update the kids. 
Steve fishes his walkie out of the glove box. “Code - whatever, I don’t know. Code Eddie,” he says. He doesn’t remember the kids’ system of codes, nor would he be sure which one this news falls under even if he did. 
“Is he okay? Is he awake?” comes an immediate, eager response from Dustin. “Over.” 
“Yeah, he’s awake, and he’s fine, except he’s got pretty bad amnesia. The doctors say it should be temporary, but right now he doesn’t remember anything since May of ‘85,” Steve explains, trying his best to keep his voice even.
“Steve, come pick me up and take me to see him,” Dustin demands, “right now. Over.” 
“Me too. Over,” Mike chimes in before Steve can respond. 
“And us,” Erica adds as well. 
Steve pauses for a second, both to steady his own breath and to make sure no one else wants to jump in on this too, before he reminds them, “He won’t know you, any of you.” 
“I don’t care,” Dustin says, bossy as ever. “Just come get me. Over.” 
“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve mutters to himself. He sucks in another breath; it wobbles dangerously. He’s just about reached his limit on how long he can keep himself from falling apart. “I- I need a minute, alright?” he manages through the walkie. “Can you just give me, like, an hour? And then I’ll take you guys to visit Eddie.” 
Steve doesn’t wait for a response before he slams the antenna closed, tosses the walkie aside, and finally, finally lets himself shatter. That sob rips free from his throat, followed by another and another and another. Tears flood from his eyes; his nose runs. It’s an ugly, gross, visceral cry that leaves him exhausted and raw and aching to be held by the time the last sob shudders out of him. Drained and hollow, he craves the embrace of someone who knows him, someone who loves him. 
He sweeps up his broken pieces, wipes the mess of tears and snot off his face, and drives to Robin’s house.
“Steve, oh my god.” Robin pulls him into a hug the second she opens the door and sees the look on his face. Steve clings to her. “What happened?” 
“Eddie’s awake,” he mutters dismally. 
“Oh! Not the tone I’d expect you to deliver that news in, but okay.” Robin pulls back, looking at him with narrow-eyed concern and confusion as she analyzes his puffy eyes and red nose and swollen lips. “And you look like you’ve just been crying because…?”
“Because he doesn’t remember me, Rob,” Steve sighs. “He doesn’t remember anything from the past 11 months.” 
Robin’s eyes go wide now. “Shit,” she says, so plainly it startles a short laugh out of Steve. 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shit.” 
She asks him more questions as she walks down the hallway so they can talk in her room. Steve once again reiterates what was said at the hospital. 
“So you didn’t tell him you two were a thing?” Robin asks, closing her door behind them. 
“Of course I didn’t.” Steve flops back onto her bed. “I didn’t want to spook him.” 
She sits beside him. “You didn’t want to spook him,” she repeats, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, “but you told him about Vecna.” 
“Well, yeah. I just-” He lifts his arms to gesture vaguely into the air as he tries to explain himself. “I mean, imagine how you would feel if you woke up in a hospital and some random guy you’ve spoken to maybe twice was by your bedside telling you you’ve been in a relationship with him for the past 9 months.” 
“Uh, I don’t know, dingus, probably about the same as I’d feel if said guy told me I’d nearly died fighting some evil twisted creature from a hell dimension,” Robin retorts.
Steve drops his hands onto his chest with a huff, shaking his head. “No, trust me. He seemed far less surprised by that than he did to hear that we were even just friends,” he says, a bit bitterly. Tears are pricking at his eyes again as he looks up at his best friend. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me, Robin. All he saw was King Steve.”
Robin softens, snark replaced with sympathy. “That sucks, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
Steve sighs in agreement that yes this really fucking sucks. He sits up and scoots back so that he’s slumped against the wall, hitting the back of his head against it. “I think I’m a horrible person,” he admits, just venting now, “because of course I’m glad Eddie’s alive and all I really want is for him to be okay, and I know the nurse said he should remember eventually, but there’s still some sick part of me that thinks maybe it would’ve hurt less if he had just died.”
“I don’t think that makes you a horrible person,” Robin assures him as she settles next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I think you’re just grieving, and grief is weird sometimes.”
“It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt,” he mutters, “when he looked at me without recognition. To see it on his face, just the- the absence of everything that we’d built. I’ve never felt so- so- I don’t know, it was like I couldn’t breathe. He just- he doesn’t know that I love him. He…he doesn’t know that he loved me...” 
Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s lost someone that he loves, it’s that he’s lost someone who loves him. Because Eddie’s not gone, just his love for Steve is, and that’s what’s tearing him apart. It’s the fact that there’s one less person in the world who loves him. It’s the fact that Steve’s got this big gaping hole inside of him that’s always made him so desperate to be loved, liked, wanted, needed; and his biggest fucking fear is becoming obsolete. He could probably trace it back to his parents, the first to forget him, the first to stop loving him, but the fact remains that now Eddie has fulfilled that fear too. Now Eddie has carved that pit a little deeper, a little darker, validating the voice that whispers within it and tells Steve that he is forgettable, unlovable, so easy to abandon and erase. 
“Well, I love you,” Robin tells him, like she can read his mind (which, at this point, she probably can). She slides an arm around his shoulders, hugs him close. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 
Fragile as he is right now, Steve falls apart again in her arms, and she holds him together. Because she knows him, because she loves him.
It’s a quieter cry this time, soft and sniffly. Whereas the last one wracked through his body and left him fatigued, this one flows from him almost gently, and when his tears finally subside and he lifts his head from where it had been buried in his friend’s shoulder, Steve actually feels a little bit better, a little bit stronger. Which is good, because he’s gonna have to face Eddie again soon. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly as he pulls away from Robin, wiping at his eyes and glancing at the clock on her nightstand. It’s definitely been an hour by now, probably more. He stands. “I have to go, I promised the kids I’d take them to see Eddie.” 
“Then I’m coming too.” Robin stands with him. “For moral support.” 
Steve gives her a grateful smile. “I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 
“Yeah.” She grins at him. “I know.” 
The nurses have changed his bandages and upped his morphine, so Eddie’s considerably hazy now but at least he can raise his headrest and prop himself up a bit without nearly blacking out from pain. He’s boredly flicking through channels on the shitty TV in front of him, alone since Wayne had to leave for work, when Harrington returns followed by a very unexpected group consisting of Robin Buckley and four strange children. 
“Sorry,” Harrington announces their presence with an apologetic shrug, “I know you don’t know them anymore, but they insisted.” 
“Eddie!” a pudgy, curly-haired kid shouts before Eddie can even react, coming barrelling towards him and trying to hug him. 
“Ow!” Eddie yelps, pain flaring even through the extra morphine. “Fucking Christ, kid! Be careful!” 
The kid jumps back immediately, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry.” 
“S’fine,” Eddie grumbles.
The kid looks at him expectantly for a moment before seeming to realize, “Oh, right, you don’t remember me. I’m Dustin.” 
“Ah, so you’re the guy I sacrificed myself for,” Eddie mutters, and Dustin looks a little sheepish. That means these must be ‘the kids’ Harrington had been talking about earlier. He surveys the group for a second. “Actually, I think we have met before,” he tells Dustin. “And you too.” He glances at a pale, dark-haired kid. The other two - a Black boy with a flat-top and a younger Black girl - look less familiar, though. “There was this, uh, open day thing at the high school for next year’s incoming freshmen; I talked to you about Hellfire.”
“Yeah!” Dustin’s whole face lights up, so bright and infectious it makes Eddie grin too. “Yeah, you did!” 
“So you guys joined the club, then?” 
This sparks a very animated conversation about D&D, the rest of the kids (Mike, Lucas, and Erica, as they soon reintroduce themselves) gathering around his bed now too to join in. It makes him feel a bit more like himself again, familiar, normal. Except, of course, for the fact that they’re not only talking about how they defeated Vecna in Eddie’s “totally epic” and “sadistic” campaign (adjectives courtesy of Dustin and Mike respectively), but also filling in more pieces of the story of how they defeated him in real life too. Still, it’s nice, fun. He totally understands how he could’ve gotten attached to these kids.
At some point, Eddie glances over to find Harrington hanging back and just watching them talk, fondly, wistfully. Robin whispers something to him and he sort of smiles, just a trace, and whispers something back. They seem close, intimate. Eddie wonders if they’re dating, and then he wonders why that thought makes him feel a bit sick. He waves them over. Harrington looks like he’s about to protest, but Robin gives him a Look and he allows her to grab his hand and drag him to join the crowd around Eddie’s bed. 
“So, what’s your deal, Buckley?” Eddie asks her. He doesn’t know her very well, they’ve only crossed paths a few times in the bandroom, but right now that makes her the most familiar person in the room to him. “Are you and Harrington a thing now? Is that how you’re involved in all this?” 
Robin wrinkles her nose and drops Harrington’s hand. “Ew, no. Definitely not.” 
“She’s my best friend,” Harrington says. 
Eddie snorts, doesn’t know why he finds that so comical. (He’s starting to get tired and it’s making him loopy. Or maybe it’s just the morphine.) “You've got a funny choice of friends nowadays, don’t you? Me and band geek Buckley and a bunch of nerdy freshmen.” He looks at Harrington with incredulous amusement. “Who would've thought, huh? Steve Harrington, collector of geeks and freaks.” 
Harrington doesn’t seem to find it as funny. He shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s better than King Steve, collector of asshole bullies and shallow one-night stands.” 
“Yeah, ‘course it is,” Eddie agrees through another huff of laughter that breaks off into a yawn. “Didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Stevie. Was a compliment.” 
“Alright.” The barest hint of a smile flickers across Harrington’s face now, but then he’s looking away and corralling the kids and saying, “We should head out, let you get some rest.” 
And Eddie kind of wishes he’d stay.
(part three!)
taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy (only tagged people who explicitly asked to be tagged; if you would like to be added or removed from this list please lmk!)
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dumplingsjinson · 7 months
Text
List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 2)
“If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad.”
“I wanted the thrill of the chase more than I wanted you.” 
“You really couldn’t have been any more obvious.” “That’s because I didn’t have anything to hide. I was being obvious, because I needed you to know, without a doubt, that I love you.” 
“This is literally the worst moment for me to be saying this but considering how we could die at any second, I need to get this off my chest before I become buried six feet under, without a chance to say any of this to you: I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’ve loved you every second of my life; from the moment when I knew what loving someone really meant.” 
“I kinda knew I lost all feelings for you when I realised I didn’t want to communicate with you about the problems that were happening between us. I became complaisant.” 
“Loving you is as easy as overthinking everything.” 
“It’s… easy with you. Nice. I don’t have to be someone else to impress you, because I know you love me for me.”
“There are parts of me I’d never thought I’d show to anyone else, but then… You came along, and for some reason, you made me want to be honest with you; bare my soul to you.”
“So what in the hell are we? I’m not doing this unless we’re on the same page.” 
“Please don’t tell me we’re nothing to you… That I mean nothing after everything’s that happened.”
“You’re my emotional support human, and I love you so, so much.”
“If you ever need me, I’ll be right here. Just as I’ve always been.” 
“I’d let you break my heart, if it means I’d get to have you for even a day.” 
“You make me feel like dancing in the pouring rain wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” 
“You’re astoundingly unhealthy for me, but do I care? No, because I wouldn’t have fallen if I cared, especially when I’m someone who’s usually so careful with whom I give my heart to.”
“…I didn’t drunk call you. It wasn’t a drunk call. I called you, perfectly sober.” 
“You’re someone I want to tell things to.”
“What’s more important to me is that I’m your last love.” 
“This… This hurts me more than it hurts you.”
“Falling in love wasn’t on the agenda.” “Do you mean falling in love with me out of all people wasn’t on the agenda?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m kind of in love?”
“…I want all of you. On top, under, whatever — I don’t care, I just want you.”
“Maybe I can help you forget about them.”
“It’s easier to pretend I’m still in love with them, than leave them in that state.” “You know you basically lying to them about your feelings is gonna hurt them more in the long run, right?” 
“Why does it have to be them? Why can’t it be me?”
“I’ll give you two seconds to take that back.” 
“You gotta work for it, love.” 
“We can pretend that didn’t happen.” “I’m sorry, but I’m not as good of an actor as you are.”
“I don’t know how to… I’ve never done this before.” “Then follow my lead, okay?”
“I’m someone who falls in love easily, but I’m also someone who can’t get over someone as easily.”
“I want to make this work, because I don’t— I don’t want to— I can’t lose you.” 
“You make me want to be a better version of myself.”
“I don’t wanna mess this up with you.” “You won’t. I promise, you won’t, so just… Do whatever. I trust you.”  
“Why are you smiling at your phone?” “…I was looking at the mail app, and uh… Received some good news?”
“Because love isn’t linear. You know that, right?”
“I’m not doing this for you — I’m doing this for myself.” 
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person for you.”
“I’m here to stay. At least until you want me gone, which I hope is never.” 
“Chasing you is like chasing the rainbow… It’s impossible. You’re always slipping away no matter how fast I run after you.”
“Don’t give me that it’s not you, it’s me bullcrap. It’s us both. We’re both at fault for this relationship breakdown.” 
“God, I just like you so, so much.” 
“I think I need to get over you for me to feel better again.” 
“You and your stupid smile… Stop that.” 
“I just need you in me somehow, please—”
“I really hope you realised they were flirting with you.” “…They were?”
“I’ve caught feelings for you, and I know you don’t like me back that way so I just… Wanted to tell you, before I decide to let you go.”
“I’ll be here to pick up the broken pieces if that’s what you want me to do, but I’ll leave if you’re not ready for that… For something more with me.” 
“I love you, but I… I don’t think I see a future with you.” 
“Give me a week. A week, and I’ll be back to normal. A week, and I’ll… I’ll be over you. Just a week and you’ll have the old me back. It’s that easy, I promise.”
“I kinda wanna give myself a concussion so I can forget about you and not think about you twenty-four-seven.” 
(pt. 1) | (pt. 3)
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
Text
...
#somethings gotta give. bc the way i exist now is not sustainable. i mean. it is but like at what cost ya kno#i just want to clean my apartment and go to the dentist. thats all i want. and that makes me so sad#my mum texted me today like pls work on a xmas list and literally i dont want anything i just wanna clean my apartment#and like not hate everything i have to do on a regular basis. and to b able to concentrate and not be paralyzed by everything#which is to say i need to be medicated but that's just another thing on a growing list of things that needs to happen so like cool great#mayne itll be better once i start taking measures. it wont. i know it wont but maybe it'll at least b terrible in a different way#bc im tired of this way. and im pretty sure my boss thinks im having a breakdown and like shes not really wrong but its still annoying#i should also get tickets home for winter break. but the mental math i have to do to convince myself i can take time off is exhausting#i should probably go for like a full 2 weeks. and hope it heals me even tho none of the breaks ive had this year have healed me#just take 2 weeks and get a game on steam and just not do anything as i agonize over all my applications#and agonize over the fact i probably have to be here doing this for at least another 7 or 8 months#i should have left last year. ugh. i should have done a lot of things. i should b working on my manuscripts right now#or doing something productive. im just tired. and i dont want to meet with ppl tomorrow. i just wanna sleep#unrelated
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satoruwiki · 2 months
Note
Roommate gojo stealing your plushies to hump them
⊹ ˚˖ ▹ MODERN PROBLEMS, MODERN SOLUTIONS!
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MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI.
content: nsfw; smut; afab!f!reader; pervy!gojo; roommate!au; masturbation
w.c: 0.9k
n/a: somebody get this man a fleshlight before he makes a hole on your stuff 😭lol. any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3 previously on pervy roommate!gojo.
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Since the 'pillow incident,' as you called it, you stopped Satoru from doing your laundry.
"Why? Did I ruin one of your clothes?" He asked, his eyes wide like the ones of a puppy being scolded.
You bit back from saying 'yes,' unsure of how to address the situation, "No, it's just... I've been thinking that maybe it's a little weird for you, a guy, to wash my clothes, y'know?"
"I really appreciate your help, 'toru, but I feel a little awkward to have you wash my underwear. It'd be best if I did it myself."
Doubt gnawed at his mind. Had you seen him without him noticing? If so, when? How could he know? To try to talk about it even in passing would be like walking on a landmine; it would raise suspicions in case his theory was false. Satoru had not perceived any anomaly in your attitude -except for the latter- nor in your relationship with him, so what motivated you to suddenly make such a decision?
Whatever the reason, you had deprived him of a means to yearn for you, as he liked to describe it. Now that he had no reason to enter your room without permission and apparent reason, he must either make do or come up with another idea. You may not have known it yet, but Satoru was persistent and determined.
"Stop! It's not funny!" you giggled, throwing your plushie back at him, "you're gonna mess up my hair. It took me hours to get it right," you turned back to your vanity mirror, finishing your makeup with a fine coat of lip gloss on your lips.
Satoru gave you a funny look. "It did not take you hours," he said incredulously.
"It did, but you would not know that because you're a man, and guys don't know the real struggles of making yourself pretty," you answered matter-of-factly, "I almost had a breakdown getting these fuckers to look even," you pointed to your eyeliner.
"Anyway, I gotta go now. Text me if you're gonna bring a girl here; I wouldn't want to walk on you like last time," you said, heading out.
Satoru rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn that you remembered that little incident. "That was months ago!" you heard before closing the door behind you.
Okay, maybe it wasn't totally an accident; he just wanted to see what would be your reaction if you caught him having sex with another girl. He felt very disappointed when you were so chill about it; it made him feel dumb to think his genius plan would work.
"My god, why does she always remember the embarrassing bits?" Satoru groaned under his breath with shame in his words, bringing his hands to his face, trying to hide from his embarrassment.
Satoru felt a whirlwind of nerves and frustration inside him. He wondered how much longer he could stand hiding his feelings from you. It felt like the more he spent time with you, the harder it got. How much more could he take without you? Without embracing your silky soft lips against his, without exploring the curves of your body and discovering what makes you reach ecstasy, without marking your skin with tokens of love and hearing those honey-sweet sounds that ring like an unparalleled symphony to his ears.
"Fuck," Satoru whined, closing his lips shut to stifle his sounds as he palmed his pulsing hard cock over his tented pants, his mind wandering off in libidinous places. 
Satoru cursed; he couldn't use your pillow or your underwear to relieve his cock, not without risking your suspicions raising. He moaned in discomfort; he needed something that belonged to you (or that at least had your scent on), or he couldn't tame down his libido.
His hand brushed against the soft texture of the plushie, causing his eyes to pry open. He gazed at the cuddly plush creature and hesitated; should he profane something so adorable? It still had traces of your perfume on it...
He hoped you could forgive him if you ever find out what happened, he implored mentally, inhaling your fragrance from the poor cuddly toy. Soft whimpers escaped him, feeling close... to you. Sometimes, he liked to pretend you were watching him or were actively participating, that his hand wasn't his and was your warm fingers palming his cock instead, talking him through it with that velvety voice of yours. "Fuck, yes baby, I love you so, so much," he babbled, grinding over the soft toy.
Satoru hovered over the plushie and humped it with abandon, the wet patch on his pants getting larger and larger the more he sought friction with the inanimate toy and chased his climax. He wrinkled the sheets underneath him by fisting them tightly, panting and babbling nonsense about you and the things he'd do to you if you just gave him a chance.
His muscles tensed and his body writhed, his orgasm drawing a strangled noise out of him. Satoru let his body plop on the mattress, his chest heaving and eyes lidded, blissed out and tired. His gaze slowly drifted to the toy in his hand, and he mentally cursed himself, watching it now soiled with translucent, slimy fluid.
"Smells like detergent, did you clean it?" You asked, sniffing on the toy that usually sat on your bed, now smelling like fresh linen instead of its usual scent.
Satoru twiddled his fingers, giving you an apologetic look. "Yeah, sorry, I accidentally spilled something on it."
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lilyarchived · 9 months
Text
behind closed doors [simon "ghost" riley]
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a/n: URGH this idea literally came from a silly twitter picture, PLEASE SEND ASKS YOU CAN SEE HOW DESPERATE I AM FOR IDEAS!! Also thank you for the love on my first post, you guys are awesome!
warnings: gn! reader, reader has a breakdown, jealousy, cursing, angst (to fluff), 0.7k words.
summary: you overheard a conversation that included you, and it wasn't a positive talk.
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"Ghost, please. leave me alone." you whimper as you walk away from your lieutenant just following behind you. “Not until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” he replies in that same old gruff voice since the day you met. 
You were wandering through the base, having done all the tasks Price had assigned ya. Hearing a familiar deep voice in one of the rooms, you were about to enter but a flash of hesitation hit you once you heard your name. “[mumbled] and what [scrambled] about [scrambled] [Y/N]?” muttered soap, his voice an unserious tone. You gulp, wondering if the context was negative or positive. “What about them?” your heart drops, did he really think nothing of you? Of course not, you were overthinking, you assure yourself this was just ghost being ghost. “I don’t mean to pry ya, lad. Don’t you and [mumbled] have something going on?” your smile reappears after soap’s suspicion. You were about to burst in, smiling, before hearing ghost’s voice once more. “What? No. There was never ‘anything’ between us.”
 Oh. Oh.  tears blur your vision before hearing soap say “Ah. So you’re pretty serious about this partner you’ve been talking to, huh?” running away before your heart shatters even more.
“Don’t bullshit me ghost. I heard you in there with soap.” you finally turn around once you’re out in the training field, only this time it was empty. You’ve never seen it this empty. What a strange sight. You bring your hands up to your head, fuzzying your hair as you scoff and fold your arms, waiting for ghost to respond. He just looks at you with those same deadpanned eyes, only this time it was laced with a confused look. “What?” he voices in a hushed manner.
 You could only fall to the rough ground as you broke down in an out-of-breath manner. Hearing Simon's footstep’s rummage through and leveling with you to hold you in his arms, his grasp tight as he hushes your cries.
“[Y/N], did you get those files i asked yo-” he barely got to finish his sentence before you dropped them at his hands and began to make your way out. “Gotta go, I'll see you later, gaz.” you utter, quickly shutting the door behind you. “What’s up with them?” ghost asked gaz, eyes wide with how the normally-clingy [Y/N] was now being avoidant. “You cannot be that fucking stupid.” gaz remarked. “What?” ghost asked, voice slightly raised now. Gaz scoffs, “you shit talked them to soap, you think they wouldn’t find out?” he added. “I never said anythi- fuck. I wasn’t-” gaz just raised an eyebrow, letting his lieutenant explain himself. “I was telling soap how much i like them.” gaz drops his pen, clearly intrigued now. “Go after them, dumbass!” he yells, and ghost bolts outside, in search of you.
And now here you were, in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. ‘How pathetic.’ you think. “Do I mean nothing to you? All those nights, those- stupid breaks I spent with you, getting to know you, nothing?” Ghost’s heart aches as he hears your broken voice, feeling immense guilt creep up. “[Y/N], I was telling soap how I wanted to be with you.” your sobs quiet down, trying to process what he just said. “There’s no one else?” you whisper, silent cries slipping.
What really happened was, “really? And what about that chick you were talking to, Sarah? still want [Y/N]?” – “I don’t mean to pry ya, lad. Don’t you and Sarah have something going on?”
Oh. he was denying ever having ‘something’ with a different girl. It all seems foolishly funny now. You laugh through your tear stained cheeks as you punch Ghost on the chest playfully. "you scared me." your voice softer than before, if that were even possible. “It’s you, it’s always been you.” he explained, in that same old gruff voice since the day you met. Only this time, it held more emotion than ever.
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zoeykallus · 1 month
Note
Look, sweetheart, I need Crosshair back with the batch. I need him to just find out about Tech. And I need him to come not only back to the batch, but too his lover (fem reader), and while they are having a rather hot reunion, he suddenly has a breakdown, trying to cope the news that Tech is gone. Reader comforts him, of course, catching him. Crosshair NEEDS a moment like that. Pretty please...
Aloha!
Yet another ancient request that slipped through the cracks. I'm so so so so sorry you had to wait so long for this. But I gotta tell you, I really like the scene that's just now unfolding in my head. Here we go, finally!
Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-shot - Don't Let Go Of Me
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Warnings: 18+ (?) Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Strongly Suggestive/Sexual Themes/Fluff
_________
Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
_________
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"But, where is Tech? Why isn't he chewing my ear off with his latest findings yet?" It quietens down completely in the cockpit of the Marauder. Only the soft hum of the shuttle can be heard. Every single one of you has known from the start, that this question would come sooner or later, but it still hits you like a sledgehammer. Hunter is the only one who manages to meet Crosshair's gaze. "Things went wrong during our first attempt to free you" You see Crosshair slowly frowning critically. As if to brace yourself, you slowly take a deep breath and exhale again, as if it's you hearing this news for the first time, not him. Shrugging his shoulders, the Sniper asks, "So, what does that mean?" "Tech didn't make it back. We'd all be dead without him. Plan 99," Echo says quietly. You see Crosshair swallow. A tremor runs through his hands for a moment, then he is completely motionless again. The Sniper avoids your gaze, not looking at you once. He knows how well you know him, that you can see his every emotion, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, and right now it's unsettling him far too much.
Crosshair blinks, his expression stony, he doesn't move a muscle. A long, awkward moment of silence ensues, no one says a word. But then, just as you expected, Crosshair immediately switches from sadness to anger. His gaze could have cut dura steel as he sets his sights on Hunter. His voice isn't loud, but it's cutting as he speaks, "Why? Why the hell did you even try this! I sent you this message to keep you away, to hide, to keep Omega safe!" Hunter grinds his teeth, clearly preoccupied with staying calm. He has enough guilt without Crosshair putting his finger on it. "Tech could still be alive if you'd just done the right thing once," the Sniper snarls, digging his finger into Hunter's chest, "Just one fucking time" You see Hunter grit his teeth, the tension beneath his surface. Echo pushes Crosshair's outstretched arm aside and says, "Hunter was against getting you. Tech and Omega insisted we try" Crossshair gruffly pushes Echo aside and snaps, "Doesn't matter," turning to Hunter he says, "You're the squad leader, you have the final say and you should have decided differently" Hunter growls softly, "I'm painfully aware of that"
Omega, who has been watching quietly until now, says quietly but clearly, "Tech and I insisted, we would never have given in" Crosshair snorts, pushing past Wrecker towards the ramp. "Where are you going?" asks Hunter. " Out of here, I can't breathe in here," the Sniper grumbles and disappears from your sight. Wrecker sighs, "Well, that went as well as expected" You pat Hunter gently on the shoulder and say, "You did the right thing, if it wasn't for Saw none of this would have happened. It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't Tech's or Omega's either" Hunter sighs wistfully and says, "Maybe" "Give Crosshair some time, he's just hearing this for the first time, he needs to digest the whole thing before he can deal with it properly," you tell him encouragingly.
Hunter growls, "He should pull himself together sooner or later, we all mourn Tech, he wasn't just his brother" After a sigh he adds, "Keep an eye on him please" You nod and say, "I'll give him some time alone, then I'll follow him"
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You wait almost two hours before following Crosshair to the beach. Omega had already wanted to follow him, but you asked her to stay away from him for now and leave you to it. The girl reluctantly agreed, only when Hunter told her to stay in the ship did she let you go alone. As if the weather were adjusting to the general mood, dark clouds gather over Pabuu. In the distance, you hear a low rumble of thunder. Shortly afterward, it starts to rain, and not just a little. You sigh and continue walking towards the beach. As expected, you find Crosshair there, on a rockier part of the beach, with his rifle, firing at makeshift targets consisting of glass bottles and various stones. You don't have to watch him for long to realize that he is anything but at the top of his game. He repeatedly misses shots that he would normally hit at any time, regardless of the weather conditions.
The wind carries his growls, his half-suppressed curses to your ear and you sigh softly. He is completely agitated, no wonder he can't concentrate. As you get closer, you see the trembling in his hands, which he repeatedly clenches into fists, shakes and tries to relax before he takes his next shot. But suddenly he stops. You know he has sensed your presence. His head slowly turns in your direction. As you stand next to him, he growls, "I was wondering what was keeping you" "I thought I'd give you a little space before I ambush you" "Hmm," he grumbles quietly, puts the Firepuncher back in the holster on his back, and sits down on one of the wet rocks nearby. As you try to sit down next to him, he stops you, shaking his head, "The rocks are wet and freezing, you're sure to catch a cold if you sit on them for any length of time" "You sit on them too" He raises his eyebrows and says, "I'm a clone, Kitten, besides, I have my armor on, I don't get sick easily"
With a sigh, you put your hands in your jacket pockets. Your clothes are already soaked, you don't think it really matters whether you sit down on the cold stone or not, but you stand still. Somehow you had imagined the reunion between you two to be different. You know that he is not the type for exuberant emotional exchanges, but still. The euphoria you felt when you realized he was back, which you actually still feel, you wish you could see some of it in him. At the moment, you're not quite sure where you both stand. You don't quite know if he wants to hear it, but you say it anyway, "I missed you" He looks up at you from his seated position, his gaze strangely scrutinizing, then his eyes wander back to the horizon over the sea in the distance. "Not as much as I missed you," he mumbles softly, so softly that his words are almost drowned out by the sound of the rain. You're so surprised you don't know what to reply, but maybe no response is necessary for now. Crosshair licks his lips, wipes rainwater from his face, and looks up at you again.
"Is there a place here where we can be alone and undisturbed?" "We are alone" Crosshair rolls his eyes and says, "No we're not, Omega is sneaking around back there, behind the rocks" You sigh, turn around and shout, "Omega, go back to the ship!" "How did you see me?" the girl shouts back in disbelief. "I didn't. Please go back to Hunter, I have everything under control here" After Omega leaves, Crosshair looks at you, a barely noticeable smirk at the corner of his mouth. "So you have everything under control here?" You shrug your shoulders. "More or less." He chuckles. "Now is there somewhere we can be undisturbed and maybe get out of the rain?" the Sniper asks.
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Crosshair takes off the Firepuncher, removes his gloves and takes off his chest plate as he looks around. "So this is where you live now?" "When we're not traveling, yes" The little cottage is nothing particularly meaningful, you don't actually spend much time here, there's hardly any decoration or features worth mentioning. But he does notice one thing. You follow his gaze as you notice that it lingers in one place for a long time. There's a target hanging at the head of your bed. "You really still have that thing?" He steps closer to the bed, his fingers gliding over the burn holes from blaster shots in the target hanging above it, over the initials you both carved into it after your first training session together. He laughs softly and says, "You were as happy as a baby when you got to use the Firepuncher" "I remember," you reply quietly.
You swallow and finally explain, still quietly, "When I realized you weren't coming back, that you were staying with the Empire, I dug out the target from my old stuff and hung it up. Most of our things were destroyed on Kamino, so I didn't have any pictures or anything of you. It was just my way of remembering you and dealing with the fact that you were gone" He sighs softly, gazing at the strange decoration above your bed for quite a while before turning to you. "I never left you" "Yes, you very much did. You knew I couldn't follow you on your path with the Empire, if only because of my political past. When you decided to stay there, you left me." He shakes his head and sighs again. "It's not that simple" You shrug your shoulders impatiently, you don't want to argue right now, not at all. "Does it matter? I don't expect an apology or an explanation. You did what you thought was right at the time, and at some point you realized it was wrong. These things happen," you say, peeling yourself out of your completely soaked jacket and throwing it on the floor.
"You just let me off the hook like that? I'd be pissed if I were you" You laugh humorlessly, "Yeah, I know you hold grudges" Crosshair comes over with a sigh and picks up your jacket from the floor. "Don't you have a hamper?" You laugh again. "Still such a neat freak? No, I don't, I don't spend too much time here" With another sigh, Crosshair lets the jacket fall to the floor again. "You're completely soaked," he notes. "It's raining," you say dryly. You're only wearing a tank top, which is also soaked, and a pair of shorts under your jacket. His fingers graze your shoulders, which immediately makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. "Your skin is all chilled out, take off the rest of your wet clothes"
You laugh softly and say, "You just want to see me naked" He nods and admits, "That too, yes. But you're really chilled out." Crosshair watches you unabashedly as you take off the rest of your clothes, including your underwear, and finally stand naked in front of him. He takes a deep breath and finally says, "It's been a long time since I've seen anything so beautiful" The next moment your lips meet, they are as soft and warm as you remember them. The moment as you get closer, as his face approaches yours, is somehow a blur, as if it never happened, as if his lips had simply always been on yours. You help Crosshair out of his armor and blacks, the pieces flying carelessly to the floor on your way to bed. You roll through the sheets, hands and lips everywhere. If you're not mistaken, you can feel one of his hands shaking occasionally, but you're not really in a position to pay much attention to it at the moment. His fingers trail down your body, as do his lips, reaching for your body, pressing against you, naked and ravenous. Crosshair seems so greedy, almost desperate, as he caresses you, moaning under your every touch as if it's the first time anyone has touched him like this.
He's honest with you, direct. "It's been a long time since I've been able to relieve myself, I don't know how long I can last today" Your lips graze along his lower jaw and elicit an excited sigh. "You know that doesn't matter to me, being this intimate with you is enough for me" Crosshair rolls his eyes, but then says, "I know, but you also know that it matters to me that you get what you need. But right now... I just don't know how long this will last, and I need you now, your body, your closeness" You feel his hard cock twitch as it rests on your pubic area and open your thighs a little wider. "You're safe here, Crosshair, I love you. Come here, melt into me" The look he gives you is enough, he doesn't need to say the words back, the relief, the gratitude, the depth of affection in those otherwise serious eyes is worth a thousand words.
As he enters your body, his hard length stretching and filling your wet heat, you let out a deep, relieved sigh from your lungs. You've missed this feeling so much. It's strange, you feel much less arousal at the moment, more deep relief, a strange euphoria and affection. You smile rapturously as Crosshair climaxes, as expected, after a relatively short time and a few intense thrusts into your pussy. The sound that leaves his throat is both a moan and a whimper, it sounds relieved, surprised and in a strange way... desperate. Concerned, you gently stroke his bare back with your fingertips. He remains lying on top of you, most of his weight resting on his forearms, his head buried in the hollow between your head and shoulder. Then you feel it. A slight tremor goes through his upper body, especially through his shoulders, his breathing is heavy, irregular. A quiet sob, half smothered by your neck and the pillow. Holy shit, is all you can think right now. Crosshair has shown himself vulnerable to you before, in his, odd, often reluctant way, but this is new.
Silently, you draw gentle, soothing circles on his back while his tears wet your neck. There are no correct words now, you realize, this is something that needs to come out of him, uncommented. You don't know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or two. Crosshair is getting heavier on you. You don't want to bother him, don't want to push him away, but slowly you can barely breathe. "Cross," you say softly, a little breathlessly, "I can barely catch my breath" He straightens up with such a sudden jolt that you startle a little. "Sorry," he mumbles, hastily wipes his still tear-streaked face and starts to get dressed. His eyes are all red and swollen, you've never seen him like this before. Quietly, secretly, your heart breaks at the sight. You wish you could do something, but you know you can't force your care on him, that's not how Crosshair works. You have to offer him opportunities that he can take on his own terms and as he feels. "There's no need to apologize," you say gently. Crosshair sighs softly, "I know it's not particularly romantic to just leave after what we just did, but I need some fresh air, alone"
So he withdraws, again. Actually, you're not surprised. A relationship with Crosshair is sometimes a bit like a game of tug-of-war or patience. You stifle a sigh and continue to smile at him. "That's okay. You know where to find me whenever you need me." Crosshair sighs in relief, he didn't really expect you to make a scene. But the circumstances are a little different compared to normal, and basically he couldn't have blamed you if you'd been angry that he wanted to leave, he's aware of that. "Thank you," he says quietly, almost in a whisper, before opening the door and walking out into the rain. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom, clean yourself up and finally lie back in bed when there is a sudden knock at the door. "Who is it?" The door opens very slowly and Crosshair sticks his head in. "Cross?" you ask in surprise. "Yeah... I've changed my mind," he says a little uncertainly, entering the room and closing the door behind him again, "I don't think I want to be alone after all, I've been alone long enough, and I feel better with you."
Your eyes widen in surprise, but then you give him a warm smile. Crosshair clears his throat a little awkwardly and asks, "Would you mind if I stayed the night?" Your smile widens, and you say, "You know very well that you can stay here every night for all I care" A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. You reach out to him and Crosshair hurriedly takes off his gear, crawls under the covers and into your arms, wrapping his own arms around your body. With a deep sigh of relief, he leans his head against your chest and whispers so softly it's almost not even a whisper anymore, "I love you, don't let go of me" At the same volume, you whisper back, "Never" and feel him wrap his arms a little tighter around you.
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