#it’s screwing with my mental health too much

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Autumn has been introduced to the world but there’s something more special for a first appearance: Monaco GP Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff WC: 3.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go || One || Two

The white noise in the nursery threatened to put you to sleep too but there were still dozens of messages to get through. There had been a constant stream of well wishes to your inbox since the announcement to the world but one had been left on read for three days now and a little rage built each time you reread it.

It didn’t take long for new ‘exclusive’ information to pop up in the gossip pages, along with the photo you had taken and sent to Jos. It wasn’t a surprise at all, but it still hurt to read what he had said. Trusted sources close to Y/N say she is being monitored for Post Natal Depression and Psychosis, as it is no secret she has had trouble with mental health in the past.

“You are lucky, my love,” you whispered to your daughter who slept soundly in your arms. “Your fathers love you so much.”

You carefully stood up from the rocking chair beside her cot but the moment you started to lower her to the mattress she began to stir.

“Already a little arm princess, aren’t you?” you chuckled, settling back into the chair to start rocking again.

You didn’t mind getting these rare moments alone with her, even if you were exhausted from waking up to breastfeed her all through the night. As soon as Charles and Lando finished their Zoom Meetings with their teams they would be stealing her away for their own snuggles. It was safe to say everyone was smitten with her. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. The front door barely closed before another visitor came, and Max had taken up permanent residence on the couch when he wasn’t needed elsewhere.

“Is she sleeping?” P whispered loudly as she stuck her head in the door.

“She is, but you can come in.”

Max trailed in after her having let himself in the apartment with his spare key. Your mother was out grocery shopping again so she could do more baking for the visitors of the day. You had told her she didn’t need to but she was enjoying the company and feeding a small army.

“Have you eaten?” Max asked as he knelt down beside P who gently stroked the blanket Autumn was swaddled in.

“You’re as bad as my mother.”

“I’m just checking. Kel said everyone comes to see the baby but no one asks how the mum is doing. I want to make sure my sister is okay too.”

“Now you’ve done it,” you croaked as you started to cry. “I’m over these damn hormones. I was fine until you arrived.”

Max laughed and rocked side to side. “You’ll get over it. Should we go to the living room or do you like sitting in the dark?”

You accepted his hand and let him pull you to your feet since he had long ago mastered the art of carrying a baby one-handed. “You’re going to have your hands full when Vicki drops.”

“I have two arms. Unless you're planning on having another one right away?”

“Max, I love you, but I will punch you if you ask that again. I am still having to sit on ice pads because no one warned me about the goddamn haemorrhoids-”

“Okay, okay, fuck, stop!” he begged with a disgusted look on his screwed up face. 

Satisfied he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, you went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water and a juice box for Penelope. 

“So Toto still hasn’t confirmed anyone for Lewis’ seat next year,” you said, passing him one bottle before taking a seat with P. 

“You’ve been talking to him?”

“And others,” you admitted. A few more of the Team Principals had sent their congratulations and the ones with empty seats for 2025 expressed an interest, asking what your plans were. “As soon as my six week check up gets signed off Kristian is going to become my worst nightmare again.”

“Do your boyfriends know that’s your plan?”

You shrugged. It had been spoken about before Autumn was born but they all thought having her in your arms would change your mind about returning to racing. None of the other parents on the grid gave up their careers to grow their families, and while there were still empty seats in the teams you were going to shoot your shot until every last one was taken. 

“Never let them know your next move,” you joked before sobering up and sighing. “Working mums are normal in every other business. Plus, I’m only talking about sim racing this year and if I can impress someone with the data then we can go from there.”

Max nodded along as his eyes traced over Autumn’s features, finding Charles’ dimples when her lips pursed with a soft whimper in her sleep. Penelope had finished her drink and turned all her attention to your daughter, giggling whenever Autumn sucked on her own lip.

“Can I have a baby sister?” she asked Max with bright, hopeful eyes.

“Maybe one day, P. You would make a great big sister.” She grinned at the compliment and snuggled closer until she was half on Max’s lap and holding Autumn too.

Monaco GP

“Ma fifille, tellement belle,” Charles gushed as Lando stepped out of the nursery with Autumn in his arms. She smelt sweet from the baby oil that hydrated her skin and fresh since Lando had changed her diaper before finding the prettiest dress in her closet for her first paddock entrance.

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to sneak her into McLaren gear,” you commented as you packed the baby bag with extra supplies for the day. Gone were the days of arriving at the paddock with just your phone, now there were a million things to remember since no one wanted to try to return home with the insane traffic that came with the road closures for the Monaco race.

“I hid them all,” Charles confessed with a sly smile before stealing a kiss from Lando’s pouting lips. “If she can’t wear Ferrari then she definitely isn’t wearing McLaren, mon cher.”

“One day when you are at Maranello…” Lando warned with a wink.

“You can finish this squabble later, we have a whole camera crew waiting outside.” The tone wasn’t quite as light as you hoped and it drew the attention of both of them straight to you. The joking smiles fell and Lando lay Autumn in her stroller and clipped in the buckles with a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

“You only gave birth four weeks ago, love, it’s okay if you’re not ready to go to the track yet.”

“We wouldn’t be upset if you watched from here,” Charles added.

“It’s Monaco and I am fine, just a little nervous.” Your blasé shrug didn’t fool either of them.

“Of what?”

Charles took over rocking the stroller back and forth so Lando could pull you into his arms. The warmth and security of his embrace was always enough to spill whatever was on your mind.

“The crowd, the cameras, your fans - take your pick.” You looked down at your clothes. They weren’t the designer dresses the other women would wear to the paddock but the maternity jeans and breastfeeding friendly shirt were tidy enough. You couldn’t help noticing the pouch where your belly sagged like a deflated balloon.

“Hey,” Lando murmured, catching your chin with his finger and guiding your head back up to face him. “Do we need to remind you how beautiful we think you are? I don’t mind being late. Charles?”

“I am more than happy to take a penalty.”

You chuckled at the enthusiasm but shook your head. “I would love nothing more than to drag you both back to the bedroom but save it for the six week sign off, you horny devils.”

“We can still show you how sexy we find you without fucking you,” Lando whispered in your ear and Charles’ eyes darkened at the little catch in your breathing.

“Don’t tempt me, but there’s still the problem of the camera crew outside and you’d be on your own explaining to them why we were late.”

“Mon amour, that is the man who asked Stroll if he could wank after breaking his wrists. Would you really trust him with that task?”

“I mean…I would find it funny. Zak might blow a gasket though,” you admitted with a grin. Feeling a bit more at ease after a laugh, you stepped out of Lando’s arms and took a steadying breath. “I’m going to grab a hoodie and we can go.”

Neither commented as you hid your body in an oversized Quadrant hoodie despite the summer heat but you barely made it halfway down the street before you asked Charles if you could push the stroller. There were too many people and too many screams for autographs that your heart started to beat erratically and your breath burned in your lungs.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked, ignoring the people beyond the security team that surrounded your group.

“Let her push, Charles,” Lando urged as he saw a sight he was familiar with in the mirror. It was rare for him in recent years now that he had you and Charles but he could remember the feeling of being out of control and the panic that came with it.

You grabbed the handlebar of the stroller and held on with a death grip in case someone broke through the security guards and knocked into it. Your knuckles changed colour from how tight you handled it and your legs pumped faster with the urge to get to the track and inside the walls of a team hospitality.

From the corner of your eye a shadow slipped through the bodies and your elbow flew out as your mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Was it an overzealous fan wanting a picture or a fanatic wanting to hurt your family?

“Ow, zusje, what the fuck?” Max asked as he rubbed at his ribs.

“Jesus Christ, Max, what are you doing? Don’t jump out at me like that.”

“She’s a little on edge right now,” Charles said quietly, acutely aware of all the cameras pointed their way.

“I can see that. Is it the crowd? Do you want me to call in reinforcements?”

Charles shook his head and walked quicker to catch back up to you. “We would probably be there by the time anyone came.”

Lactic acid burned your calves and reminded you just how hard you were going to have to work to get back to your pre-baby fitness but it felt good too. It brought you back to yourself in a way you had forgotten since becoming a mother and the endorphins from the exercise began to relax your body and mind.

Your pace began to slow and Lando smiled proudly like you had won a world championship. “Now can I hold your hand, love?”

You shifted your hold to the centre of the handlebar so you could still navigate the stroller and placed your hand in his. “Thank you,” you murmured as he kissed your knuckles.

“I would tell you not to worry but I don’t think it will make a difference,” he replied between waving to his fans.

“Aren’t you worried? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”

Lando stopped and turned with a serious look on his face that was only softened by the untamed curl that fell over his brow. “Of course I’m worried too, babe, this is our family and Autumn is the most precious part of it. But, I have to trust that we have done enough to protect her and you and Charles,” he said with a wave towards the security guards. “Do you remember how nervous you were before your first race? You could barely keep your food down and Pierre thought you were actually going to pass out during the Anthem.”

You rolled your eyes but a small smile leaked through. “Don’t remind me.”

“I would have caught you.”

“You were six inches shorter than me.”

Lando stood straighter and looked down at you. “That’s beside the point, I’ve more than made up for it now.”

“Yes, you have,” you said with a wink. “Much more than six inches.”

Charles interrupted the appreciative gaze you dragged over your boyfriend’s body. “Will you two please behave?”

A devilish smirk grew on Lando’s face. “Never, but I will go and sign some autographs before I get in more trouble.”

“Is it me or is he even more cocky?”

“Winning does that to a guy.”

Charles scoffed and curled an arm around your waist. “I will have to remind him what second place feels like, it’s my turn to win Monaco.”

Max laughed, reminding you that he was still there as you approached the paddock gates. “Half the grid thinks the same thing.”

“Well they have a chance with you starting P2,” you teased your brother before grinning at Charles who took pole position. “Take that chequered flag.”

You scanned your ID and the pass for Autumn too as everyone else did and clustered together on the other side again.

“Where are you going to be watching from?” Max asked as you approached his hospitality first.

“Homeboys box, but Toto wants a word so I’ll take bub there first.”

Max looked like he wanted to say something but his name was called out from his team waiting by the dark blue entrance. Instead he stepped forward and kissed your cheek before kissing Autumn’s and tickling her toes. “Tot zeins, mooi meisje.”

“She’s going to speak Dutch before me at this rate,” you complained as he walked away, still not knowing what he said to her.

“Learn quicker then.”

You threw him the middle finger that made him laugh before he disappeared and then it was your turn to say goodbye. Mercedes was the next garage followed by Ferrari then McLaren.

“We will see you before the race,” you promised as you unbuckled Autumn from her stroller and held her to your chest. The garages were tight enough as it was without trying to fit the pram inside too. “Say bye-bye daddy,” you said with a wave of Autumn’s little hand as she woke from her nap. “Love you.”

Charles and Lando both kissed her cheeks and said their goodbye before you received your own chaste kiss on the lips. “Call us if you need anything, I will keep my phone with me,” Charles promised before stepping away.

“Same, and these guys are going with you too,” Lando said with a nod to the security shadowing your sides. Your entourage joined you in Mercedes but thankfully took a wider perimeter since there was a fairly strict policy in who could enter the garages. Toto didn’t seem to mind the additions since you came bearing a pretty great gift.

“You are a beautiful time waster,” he said sweetly as he cradled Autumn to his chest. “I have work to do, little lady, yes, I do, but I’m not ready to hand you over, no, I am not.”

“I get the feeling that Jack will be getting a sibling soon enough,” you said to Lewis who swung back and forth on his chair with his headphones half on his head.

“I don’t think it’s Toto that needs convincing,” he said with a laugh. “It’s not his career that goes on hold, you know that.”

“I never would have said it before, but she’s worth it,” you admitted. “Still not sold on doing it again though, got one more championship to win.”

“I know that feeling,” he said wistfully. “Charles had better bring her to Maranello too.”

“I don’t think much work would get done if she was there,” you pointed out. “And like you said, you have a championship to win.”

Autumn suddenly decided that she was starving and started to cry as she nuzzled into Toto’s shirt and you laughed as you got up to retrieve her. “Sorry, bub, there’s no milk in those titties,” you teased as you picked her up. “Is there somewhere I can feed her?”

Toto looked around and shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable. There’s rooms down the hall if you want.”

“I’ve learned it’s not about my own comfort.”

“If anyone’s got a problem they are free to leave,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear and return to their work.

You took your seat again beside Lewis and unzipped the discrete opening on your shirt before unclipping the small window on your bra.

“Come on, man, she’s just trying to feed her baby. Get those cameras out of here,” Lewis said as he blocked the lens and started to herd the Netflix crew back out of the garage.

It had taken a week of trial and error before mastering the art of latching but now you had a routine and Autumn quickly fell back to sleep despite trying to keep her awake. Lando had joked he would sleep better if that was his routine too, at least you thought he was joking.

“Can you hold her please?”

Lewis didn’t need to be asked, he had been patiently waiting his turn since you walked in the garage. He even knew to draw soothing circles and pat her back to bring up her wind. “There’s those famous Uncle skills you bragged about.”

“Told you, I’m just down the road if you guys want a babysitter for date night.”

“I might take you up on that in a few weeks.” You looked over to Toto who was speaking to Bono and jutted your chin his way. “Has he mentioned anything about who’s in line for your seat?”

“Nothing set in stone, just lots of talk - or at least that’s what he told me.”

“Fair enough, you’re the enemy now,” you teased.

“Netflix is going to love this season. Did you see Nando re-signed?”

“Mhmm, I sent him a pot plant and instructions to wipe the floor with Lance. I think he’s taken it on board.” Fernando already had nearly four times as many points in the driver championship so far and you expected that to increase after the race.

“There’s rumours Lance is going to WEC next year, maybe there'll be another seat opening.”

“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “If I get a seat it’s going to be with a team that has some sense of loyalty. I’m sick of being dropped like a hot potato the second anything goes wrong. I’m desperate, but not that desperate.”

Lewis was about to be called for the driver parade and you realised just how quickly time had passed. “I should let you finish your rituals, we still have a few stops to make before the race.”

He handed Autumn back and gave you a hug. “Don’t lose that glow stressing about getting a seat, mama, enjoy your time with this little beauty. Che sarà, sarà.”

“Practising Italian already, huh?” you teased as you buckled Autumn into the stroller where she promptly fell asleep after the movement disturbed her. “I will keep your wise words in mind.”

The paddock was quieter as you made your way down the line of garages. Most guests would already be in the viewing spaces above the pit lane to watch the drivers parade so there weren’t many people for security to part.

“Ma’am,” the head guard called as he stood in front of an imposing suited figure. “He wants a word.”

You nodded your head and he moved to let the man through. “I’m kind of running late, Lawrence.”

“I just want to say congratulations,” your old boss said as he looked into the stroller and removed his sunglasses. “She’s very cute, you must be proud.”

“You could have sent a text message.”

Lawrence sighed at the frosty tone. “In hindsight things may have been handled a little callously but you should understand it was for your own good. This isn’t an office job that can be worked while pregnant, it would have been irresponsible as an employer.”

“I understand that, it was the fact you fired me without even talking to me first - I had to find out through the tabloids - and before that the way you let your son get away with treating his team is actually despicable.”

Lawrence pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned his glasses as he stared off into the distance. “You’re not wrong, but we are working on his attitude and behaviour - discreetly.”

You raised an eyebrow but he wasn’t going to share anything further, instead he took one last look at Autumn and put the aviators back on his nose. Maybe there was some weight behind the rumours.

“Hopefully we’ll see you back on the grid at some point. You were one hell of a racer.”

“Am, Mr Stroll,” you corrected as you turned the brake off the pram. “I am one hell of a racer.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader

[void-tiger]

Well…if there’s one (1) good thing about having a crush, it’s that when I’m (for the moment anyway) not worrying about the other person’s boundaries and terror about whether I’ve stomped on them or not + my own frustration at how slow things are to just communicate verbally and directly instead of constantly dancing around nonverbal reads (that are two-way, I suppose but still no substitute, can still mean just about anything)…

…yeah. I do let myself be selfish. Acknowledge what I want instead of burying it so deeply away from my consciousness to not “take up space” I suppose. Finally give myself some damn permission to fall in love with another person “despite” being ace, and “despite” being chronically ill and struggling with my mental health.

And what is it I want?

To feel cared for. Cherished. By someone here. To wake up and have someone greet me with a gentle embrace mindful of the constant chronic pain especially in the mornings to not accidentally pinch things, but not treating me like glass, either. To be given autonomy instead of having it taken away—to do things together, FUN things, without being made to feel guilty about that “taking away” spoons from chores or “well why won’t you just work a job then!” but also respecting my need to rest periodically or take a longer rest after the fact.

To feel heard. To trust that there’s love enough for us to disagree and feel angry and frustrated and sad around eachother and with eachother without judgement, without the risk that things are forever one disagreement or misunderstanding away from falling apart completely or worse.

And please tease me. Teasing is a love language just as much as communication and encouragement and acts of service and finally being held. It’s verbal play, and I trust you to not bully me.

And…I’ve shown as much as I can, I think. I know you’re trying to mirror at least some of it. And I think I’m reading you correctly, but I wish I understood why you seem so terrified to talk directly to me.

#tiger’s musing #screw it. ‘don’t say i’m in love’ or whatever #and well. it will fade eventually. and I am very practiced at Behaving and keeping my feelings to myself #legit always have to do that the very few times I’m liked someone This Ain’t ‘Just’ Platonic Is It #because…guess what. the other person’s comfort and boundaries matters more to me #and friendships aren’t a ‘consolation prize.’ they’re the Good Shit #it’s…just that much harder when there isn’t that Direct Communication With Frequency for me #…bUT!! if he didn’t like me…why does he keep looking at me Like That?! #…right. hang in there for a few more weeks. I did hand over a script as.. #…yeah. wonder if he realized /he’s/ the reason I finally found my nerve to write it the way I want #and for all my current ‘will you just RELAX and TALK to me yET?!’ frustration? he’s my muse for joseph! #I needed to see what a GOOD man even remotely looks like just as much as I needed someone like him #to accidentally or intentionally show interest (look. if ya gripe about wanting to do something. PUBLICALLY #(and it’s within my skills to make it available. guess what. I’m gonna call your bluff #(I’m too much of a writer and actress. if I see Checkov’s Gun I’m firing it!) #…does he realize that I basically told everyone off for pressuring him via social media and semi privately? #that the only reason why I started using facebook again was to get people to leave him alone? #(who knows. but that + him…kinda witnessing just How Bad my mental health is? is…when I think there was a turning point. maybe. probably.) #…I suck at socializing in Initial Stages. so much. it’s so uncomfortable #but…screw it. I’ve learned that I’ll use what power I have to change environments and make opportunities #even when it’s (deeply) uncomfortable for me to do so #…because sometimes you gotta blink first to make someone else feel safe. and hopefully latch onto that #and…yeah. guess I am patient. but also griping the entire time

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Anyway things will probably be a little better once I stop having zoloft withdrawal side effects.

#I get dizzy when I move my head around too much #and I'm already *less* lethargic #I should probably stop trying to walk the whole mile and do some chair exercises #trying to go the whole 9 yards is so often where I screw myself over #and I think a lot of suggestions about mental health expect you to do the whole nine yards immediately #which probably trips a lot of people up

[paintalyx]

girl help a guy who is messaging me is all but having a mental breakdown over cheating on a colloquium and he chose to confide in me about it like i didn't cheat and lie my way through high school and every single job i ever applied to and like i don't actively advocate for screwing the system over at every and any given opportunity

#my stuff #i simply don't believe in conforming to the system that ruined my mental and physical health #not a shred of pity for those who enforce it #college demands way too much money for bad textbooks and poorly maintained classrooms #and minimum wage doesn't even cover the cost of living anymore #i'm sorry to anyone who still has the goody two shoes mindset but no institution will be bending over backwards to help you #if only you follow its rules #there are good people that might do so but the institution itself would never #so just screw them over as much as you legally can without harming other people

[alymccart]

[Click image > right click > "open image in new tab" for higher res]

Alright, uh. Screw it. Let's dust off this account. I was embarrassed about even drawing this, and especially about sharing it publicly, but I'm slapping it up here. Why not. Been extremely burnt out lately, doing art professionally has pretty much killed my desire to do art for the sake of enjoying it (sorry, fans of my dead comic). Mental health has been shoddy. Actual health is eh, as well. I've been too busy to really think and have been so guilty about there being so much stuff to do in my life still that I haven't really afforded myself time to relax or unwind. My enthusiasm for anything has been in the dumps for years. I don't think I've drawn more than a handful of fanart pieces in over a decade (what you see on here is pretty much it), and I've certainly never drawn something like... this. Obviously, I watched Hazbin finally (didn't even realize the show was an actual thing now, though I did love the pilot eons ago; I don't tend to traverse into fandom discussion and discourse so I've been out of the loop). I'm actually nearing double-digit rewatches... and the OST has been on repeat for weeks. Well animated, beautifully written adult cartoons? I'm here for it. Musicals? Oh yeeahhhhh! A well animated, beautifully written adult cartoon that is also a musical??? *teakettle noises*

I'm ace as hell, but wholesome, loving, devoted relationships like this in fiction seem to hit me right at my core. I also cry at heartwarming videos and movies, but that's beside the point... I just... hrrrnnnnggg... Charlie and Vaggie's relationship has SENT ME. It has an iron grip on my soul and I cannot stop it. I feel like i'm 14 years old again. I want to write fanfiction. Is it 2004?? Where am I????? What the fffffasdfasfagghfgfjhdd????????!!!! Aannnyyyyywayyyy.... This art gave me stomach butterflies the entire time I worked on it, as well as an immense amount of joy, and I really hope this can maybe do that for others. And I still have... so many ideas........ so many....

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #hazbin spoilers #spoilers maybe??? #digital art #art by me

[queenofcoquette]

where to start

introduction:

self-improvement looks very simple on paper. eat better, workout, have a skin care and hair care routine. lower your screentime, study, be organized, have hobbies. but trust me i know how difficult it is to actually DO the things you talk about doing. how hard it is to even know where to start, and how to stay consistent. roadblocks also happen, things out of your control. but ultimately you can make change in your life, just little by little.

planning:

during this stage you need to think of what you want to accomplish and creating an action plan full of steps that can get you there. i've provided my own example too :)

prioritize your physical and mental health. when those things are improving then pretty much everything else in your life will start to follow. just look at yourself now and think 'what can i do better? how can i be happier & healthier?'

write down your goals.

create an action plan for each goal. what steps can you take to achieve this goal? make a step by step plan.

come up with things you can do everyday to reach that goal. what adjustments can you make in your everyday routine that'll help you get there? for example, i want to make an etsy shop so i sew for 20+ minutes a day on weekends, and sew 30 minutes on weekdays.

excecuting:

the most important part is slowly easing into your new habits. look at your goals and think 'what steps am i taking to reach it?'

meeting your basic needs. before you even think about self improvement make sure you're taking care of your health and hygeine. this means eating enough, being hydrated, taking care of your hygeine. always make sure that your core needsre met consistently before you even begin.

start small. once you've gotten consistent with meeting your basic needs then start making small changes. (ex. exercising for 10 minutes, reading for 10 minutes, start small with the habits you planned) dont overwhelm yourself!

have a fluid plan. be open to change- if something really isn't working then adjust it! and, when you continue to do something for a while, start doing it longer- i used to walk around 1.5 miles daily for almost a month and then started doing 2.5. keep increasing until you're at a healthy point.

having a good mindset. as always make sure your mindset is good. remember that progress isn't linear- you're going to screw up sometimes and get off track. just make sure you learn from every experience.

conclusion:

no matter what there ARE going to be problems or things that don't go your way, things that aren't in your control. since my 15th birthday i've been applying to jobs left and right, over 30 or so, and it's been 5 months of rejection due to my age (15 year olds can only work 3 hours in a row and most places need more). since i can't control that i just keep applying and in the mean time i focus on the other aspects of my life! it can be really frustrating but you just have to keep pushing.

#that girl #self improvement #glow up #pink pilates princess #queenofcoquette #healthy habits #it girl

[prozach27]

.

#it’s weird figuring out balance right now #like after getting through such an extremely dark period I still feel awkward sometimes #or maybe too apologetic #and the prevailing advice is to just kinda. not discuss it again #but that feels weirdly inauthentic and I’m proud of the fact I’ve overcome so much #at the same time I don’t want to be a broken record talking about mental health #at the SAME same time I’ve got a full team of medical professionals plus a therapist and psychiatrist working with me #like I’m in intensive outpatient just a step below hospitalization #and while I’m stoked that I’ve been improving so much and im doing so much better than ever before #it’s honestly just scary and frustrating some times #i sometimes feel a little crazy #which was always my biggest number one fear #and like I’ll suck it up and be totally fine - im med compliant and never miss an appointment and am putting in all the work and then some #not to mention additional work to sort out my new diagnosis and get psychoeducation on it plus combat my own stigma of it #I guess it’s just? isolating? knowing that this is something I probably shouldn’t talk about. I’ve never really experienced that before #I’ve always been able to wear my heart on my sleeve and talk about whatever. but I think people will definitely change the way they see me #if they hear my diagnosis? like… meaningless quirks will now be viewed as due to my diagnosis and not because it’s just me lol #I’ve lived a ridiculous and wild life and that was fun but I’m ready to calm down and now I feel like that life would be viewed as like.. #untreated mental health. and not just a ridiculous old chapter of my life we can all laugh at together #I’m not interested in mental health being the focal point of my life yet when it’s the key thing screwing your life up what else do you do #catch 22. if I talk about what I go through I’m crazy or focused on mental health and if I don’t talk about it then I’m flakey / unreliable #because they don’t get what’s going on. there’s just like… zero winning. and I have to re-evaluate so much I take for granted #while also balancing an extremely stressful grad program and piss poor wages in a failing economy #I’ll be totally fine. like not even kidding it’s all gonna work out and I’ll be okay. but today I’m just feeling frustrated and overwhelmed #so it doesn’t hurt to vent for a minute. get it off my chest and then whatever #delete later

[httpskuzuu]

Please, Fedya

idk why, but I'm very embarrassed to publish this

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes.

tw: kidnapping, yandere, mention of: broken bones, abuse, isolation, bad mental health, punishment and escape attempt (nothing explicit really), stockholm syndrome, fyodor is a general tw

Your life with Fyodor had been good, as good as a life with a kidnapper could be, but you would never admit that out loud, it would be too hard a blow to your dignity.

At first everything was hell, Fyodor was the definition of cruel, it took you months to be able to get out of the 4 walls where he locked you up, in complete darkness. It screwed up your eyesight, your sleep and your overall health, physical and mental. He at least fixed those problems, paid for your eye surgery, gave you vitamin D supplements, helped you by fixing your sleep schedule, etc.

It wasn't so bad, except that not all the issues could be fixed, your mental health was horrible, it still is, you doubted he could fix that.

Before you had all that help Fyodor gave you, you had to change your behavior, you were always a fighter and with Fyodor it would be no exception. The turning point of your behavior was the night you tried to escape. He caught you, as punishment he broke both your legs and your fingers, he also left you in complete isolation, you don't know for how long. Since that punishment, you never disobeyed Fyodor again, not intentionally at least.

As time went by, and when he saw that your meek behavior was not a lie, he began to give you more liberties. One of the most important for you was the freedom to go outside, obviously accompanied by Fyodor.

Also, with that freedom to go out, you realized that Fyodor liked to treat you like a doll. Every time he allowed you to go out he was the one who dressed you, you had no voice or vote in that.

On those outings, you realized that the place you were in was Russia, you didn't know specifically which part. Before arriving in Russia, you had never seen snow in person, so it was beautiful the first time.

Today was one of those days that Fyodor allowed you to go out.

He dressed you in warm clothes and took you to a coffee shop. It was nicer than you thought it would be, not only because you went outside, but because your talks with Fyodor were pleasant.

By the time you left the coffee shop, it was getting dark, but you convinced Fyodor to go to a local bookstore and buy some books. It wasn't for you to read it (you didn't understand Russian and Fyodor had never tried to teach you so you couldn't communicate with others), it was for Fyodor to read it to you, it was an activity that, surprisingly, you enjoyed very much. You left the bookstore with a book of poems whose cover caught your attention.

Walking on your way home you heard high-pitched meowing coming from an alley, you stopped your steps and, consequently, to Fyodor, who was holding your hand.

"What is it, милый?"

"I heard meowing." Your gaze did not move from the alley.

You let go of Fyodor's hand and headed down the alley, Fyodor followed you closely until you reached a cardboard box lying on the ground.

You bent down and opened the box to find an orange furred cat, it was about the size of your hand and very thin. You wondered what kind of horrible person had abandoned such a cat.

You petted it and the cat reacted affectionately, rubbing its head against your hand. You laughed at the action and turned your head to see Fyodor standing behind you, still standing. "Please, Fedya, let's keep him."

Fyodor wasn't a big fan of cats, or animals in general, it wasn't that he hated them, but he preferred not to have pets. But there you were, begging him for an abandoned cat, and, well, you were being on excellent behavior, so he needed to give you a reward, right?

"Okay, but you'll be the one to take care of it." You nodded quickly as you grabbed the cat, pulled him against your chest, and covered him up as best you could with your coat.

The two of you walked out of the alley, you were petting the cat's little head as you smiled. Fyodor just looked at you, appreciating how cute you looked when you were happy. He thought that, perhaps, he could do more things to see that smile of yours more often.

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fyodor #fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #yandere fyodor #yandere #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

[risustravelogue]

In the psychiatrist's waiting room and thinking about Wriothesley finally finding out what your regular visits to the surface is all about.

cw. mental health issues, specifically bipolar II disorder. contains heavy lore of my s/i (f!reader, she/her pronouns used).

You've told Wriothesley during your job interview that you'd require once-a-month visits to the surface if he were to employ you. He agreed without prying further, much to your relief.

Sigewinne had known from the start, of course—it's her duty to know everything about the people in her care, after all. Yet, she passed your files over to the Duke anyway, because she knew he'd grant you, the most excellent apprentice of Estelle's, this small relief. The only thing she told him was "she needs to maintain her health, but it's out of the scope of my knowledge of human well-being."

He'd lie if he said he wasn't curious about Sigewinne's words, but his need of a mechanic to maintain and improve his gauntlets was greater. And so he stayed out of the issue... until he decides to confess his attraction for you.

He doesn't even try persuading Sigewinne to tell him about your issues, knowing how strict she is with doctor-patient confidentiality. So after a few private investigations, he decides to go straight to the source.

That afternoon, he welcomes you to his office. He sits on his desk with the sound of soft piano—your favorite piece—flowing from his gramophone.

"I need to talk about your monthly visits to the surface," he says, and your gaze goes downward to your shifting feet, your fingers fidgeting behind your back.

Sensing your nervous energy, he smiles and says, "Relax. I'm not going to fire you or anything like that. A small issue like this won't affect what I think about you."

You chuckle derisively. "That's what they all say before rejecting my job application," you say. "And it's not exactly a 'small' issue. It affects everything you know about me."

"Try me," he says, sipping his tea. "Please."

"... I guess you're going to find out sooner or later..." you mumble. You inhale and exhale, your breath trembling in fear of being rejected by him.

"I have... depression. Specifically, bipolar two disorder. That's why I seem more irritable some days and like I've lost interest in everything on others," you blurt out. "I've been on both medication and counseling, so it doesn't stand out too much anymore, but it still gets in the way of my work sometimes. That's why I need to visit my doctor on the surface once a month. Believe me when I said this is not the worst I've been—"

You stop speaking when you realize that your boss is staring at you in sympathy.

"I—I'm sorry. For rambling," you mutter.

"No, no," he says with a sigh. "If anything, I'm sorry for not asking sooner."

"Sure... well. Are you still not going to fire me?" you ask bluntly.

Wriothesley's eyes soften.

"No. Why would I? I love you."

"... What?"

"I love you," he repeats as he steps closer to you. Your heart beats loud and fast from the adrenaline, thoughts racing through your head: screw this, screw everything, if I'm going to lose him, might as well be now—

"I... I don't... My ex dumped me when I told him this," you ramble, tears welling up in your eyes. "You– you're sure? You don't... see me as someone problematic? You don't... hate me?"

His fingers rest on your chin as he lifts your face. You instinctively gasp and close your eyes at his touch, only to feel his soft, warm lips meeting yours in a chaste kiss.

"I'm glad you're able to be honest with me," he says against your lips. His breath smells like the tea he just sipped, and somehow it's so intoxicating this way—

"I love you," he says again, his icy blue eyes now gazing softly into yours. "And I don't mind being a place for you to rest, your home in this foreign country. Will you allow me to be such?"

"Y– you would?" you stutter, the good kind of disbelief flooding your chest with warmth. "I... would love for you to be my home," you say with a grin. "I love you, too."

"Good," he breathes, his arms pulling your body flush against his. You feel your worries melt away as he kisses you in his embrace.

"Very good... my love."

© @risustravelogue 2023 • no to reposting, yes to reblogging. feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. :)

#astronetwrk #wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #cw depression #cw bipolar #kurisu's thoughts #kurisu writes #wrisu #uhuh yep another waiting room thought hehe

[usedtobecooler]

Oh my fuck if you used your writerly powers for Billy Knight *chews on pillow*

How about making Billy come twice, he'd be so desperate to be good for you but overstimulated and a mess. Can be from riding him until he's hard again, sucking him off, idk my eyeballs are gonna explode if I think about it too much 😱

Pairing | Billy Knight x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), handjobs (not really, it's over his pants lol), oral m receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), dubious content (possibly? it's very much wanted but billy doesn't voice his consent), premature ejaculation, overstimulation, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of medication, mention of physical ticks, health facility setting, fluff, angst, billy is incredibly touch starved.

Word Count | 3k

A/N | this was purely self-indulgent because i love billy so much, i've not proofread it so if you see any mistakes no you didn't

"Bill, how longs it been since a girl touched you?" You ask quietly, leaning out to rest your hand on his knee. You don't miss the way his leg jerks a little under the touch, like you'd burned him with a match.

"I don't - I don't know. Not since I was in school, a while ago." Billy's voice is thick, wet, accent shining through with every word he speaks. You can tell he's mortified by your question, the way his tick kicks up a little after being stagnant the whole of your visit so far, the constant swiping of his nose turning it red raw.

You wince a little at his confession, can't help but screw your face up - it's obvious that you look sad for him. He hadn't had it easy his whole adulthood, really, being constantly in and out of hospital for various mental health disorders meant that he was starved in the affection department, too busy trying to get better before he could focus on a girl.

He looks like he's getting better, that you can tell. He was finally allowed visitors in his room, not in the mess hall, which meant he was being trusted alone without constant supervision. He also just looked cleaner cut; the black Henley adorning his toned torso suited him so much better than the baggy grey hoodie he always wore. His hair was neat, combed back, though his stubbly beard still remained.

He looked nicer with it, you thought. Not so much like a scared schoolboy, it made him look older in a more masculine way. He'd told you the medication was helping, too, that he was sleep schedule was improving and he wasn't so anxiety ridden all the time, scared that somebody was coming to get him.

This private place had been better than anywhere the NHS had sent him, clearly having money was the big factor in whether mental health sufferers really ever got the help they needed. You didn't pry him on where the money came from to pay for the treatment, sometimes it was better to stay out of the Knights' business.

"Where were you, uh, going with this?" Billy's shaky voice snaps you out of your trance, and you realise you'd been staring back and forth between his face, chest and crotch unabashedly this entire time. Your cheeks heat up, and you glance away to look at the clock ticking behind his head, suddenly becoming so interesting.

"You'll think I'm being so silly," You sputter, subtly fanning your face with your hand that wasn't still slapped on Billy's knee, in a bid to cool down a little, embarrassment taking over your whole body, "I just thought that, maybe, it'd help you relax a little if you, or if I helped you... take the edge off."

Billy cocks his head to the side, confusion etching onto his features before it dawns on him exactly what you meant. He flushes a deep red, "Oh, um. The prescription pills they have me on s-sort of... stop me from being able to f-finish, uh, lot of the time."

You're the reason he's stuttering, you know that and it's making you want to lunge at him and wrap him up in a big hug to calm him down. You've clearly mortified him with your question, too forward and full on for somebody who may as well still have been a virgin with the amount of time that'd gone by since he'd last been in any sexual encounter that wasn't with his own right hand.

"I can... well I can try?" You say it like it's a question, eyes flitting back to look at him once more, the heat on his face making him look even more endearing, his long dark lashes fanning across the tips of his cheeks as he closes his eyes and sucks in a sharp breath.

Your hand had inched further up his thigh without you even realizing, and you gasp when the back of your hand brushes against his obvious erection through his dark jogging bottoms. You question now if it's not actually embarrassment that's making him flush so dark - but arousal instead.

"You'll tell me if I'm reading this wrong, yeah?" You ask him gently, voice barely above a whisper as you slide your palm over his cock through the thick material of his pants, clear outline making it obvious he had no underwear on underneath. Your breath hitches as you go to curl your hand around his length, so thick that your fingers can't wrap around it fully.

You're watching in awe as a wet patch starts to form on the soft cotton, dampening it until it's stained darker, whilst you go between ghosting your hand up and down gently and squeezing softly. Billy can't rip his eyes away from you, drifting back and forth between your shocked face and your hand grasping at him.

"I'm gonna cum, darlin'. Sorry, shit," Billy's hand claws onto the leather arm of his chair and he's hunching in on himself, coming with a low, gruff moan, painting the inside of his sweatpants with his release.

Your eyes widen in shock, a gasp escaping your lips as you sit back and take in what just happened. Your thighs clench, a wave of heat overcoming your body at the thought of him coming undone so easily under your touch.

"M'sorry, this is so embarrassing." Billy's whiny little voice breaks the silence, he throws his head back and rubs at his face with his hands. They're big enough that they completely engulf his features, making his head seem small in comparison. In that split second, you decide you want - no, need to have his hands all over you. You needed to show him what it was like to touch a girl, feel her go pliant under his touch.

"It's not." You say it all too quick, hand tearing away from his crotch to grab at his arm and pull his hands away from his face so he could look at you properly. His eyes are watering, big brown orbs clearly showing his distress and it makes your heart ache, "It's not embarrassing, Bill. It's normal, you've not been touched by another person in, what, seven years? Maybe longer? Don't feel like you should be better at this."

You slip out of your own chair across from Billy, sliding onto your knees in front of him with a dull thud, shuffling between his spread legs, "Can I touch you again? Proper this time?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, batting your lashes at him prettily, "I promise I'll make it good for you."

Billy shakes out a stuttered sigh, cock already kicking up again in interest at the thought of your bare flesh connecting with his own. You're so gorgeous, he's thought about you in this way for so long, but he always thought you'd do better than him. That you could do better than him.

He thought you were only still friendly with him out of pity, at the end of the day you had been Jimmy's friend first. You hadn't had any dealings with Jimmy in years, yet you always still checked in with Billy, visited often. Maybe it was because you knew he didn't really have any other friends, nobody to look out for him but you.

Billy hazards a glance down at you when he feels your fingers brush over the waistband of his soiled sweats, helps you by lifting his hips up when you tug at them to pull them down. You leave them to pool at his ankles, no patience to take them off completely.

He's fully hard again just at the sight of you on your knees in front of him, leaky tip slapping against his belly, his previous load still glistening down his shaft, perfect for using to lube him up.

"Can I put my mouth on you?" You ask tentatively, fingers ghosting over his balls, up his shaft to wrap deftly around the tip. You pull his foreskin down a little to reveal the mushroom shaped head, another blurt of precum shooting out of his slit and coating your thumb.

Billy never does reply to you, too entranced with the look of your hand on his bare skin, your own flesh feeling so hot it almost burns, searing through his sensitive spots.

You shuffle forward a bit more, mouth hovering over the head of his cock so you can spit a glob of saliva onto it for extra lubricant. Billy hisses, big doe eyes staring at you, unblinking, in awe of you and what you're doing for him.

When your lips finally wrap around the tip, you can't help the moan that leaves you. He tastes salty but clean as you suck and lick at him, heady in such a delicious way it intoxicates you, clouds your senses. You move your hand a bit lower so you can take more of him in, having to bring up your other hand to wrap with it so you can cover his shaft properly.

He's so thick, stretching your mouth wide and cracking your lips. You sink down a bit further, taking more of his cock in until you're gagging, throat closing up around him.

You can hear Billy's fingernails scratching at the leather of the chair, his hips stuttering up into your mouth in a telltale sign that he's close to coming already. His belly is shaking, moans escaping him in quick presession like he can't contain them.

You can't let him come like this; you had to have his cock in you before your visit was over, your core ached for it, your panties feeling damp just from touching him. Billy consumed your entire being, had you feeling needy and desperate.

When you release his dick with a 'pop' he sputters out a little whine, a clear sign that he was so close to the edge before you finished what you were doing.

You look up at him through wet lashes, his face burning a deep purple and the veins on his neck popping from the strain of him struggling not to come. You get up off your knees, pulling your tights down your legs along with your panties so that you're bare from the bottom down, sliding your shirt up over your head to just leave you in a bra on top.

"What're you, shit," Billy struggles to get his words out, ticking and wiping his nose with the backs of his fingers, "what're you doing?"

"Can I ride you?" You ask gently, edging closer to him and kicking his feet until his legs are a bit closer together. Billy nods, and you take that as permission to mount him, spread legs bracketing his hairy thighs.

You flip your skirt up a little, reaching behind you to grab at the base of Billy's cock. You rub the tip in between your folds, all whilst watching him and you don't miss the way his eyes roll back, head tipping so his stubbly neck is bared to you.

You take it slowly, sliding down inch by inch until your cunt is nestled against his groin, thatch of dark pubes tickling your delicate skin. You feel so full it's delicious, his thick cock feeling like it was made to be nestled deep in you.

Billy instinctively reaches out to grab at your hips, stilling you from moving until he got used to the feeling of your soaking wet cunt enveloping him. He breathes in and out deeply, not even baring to look at you, worried he'd blow his load immediately if he did.

You bring your hands out to gently brush over his cheeks, silently forcing him to look at you, which he does eventually. He's just so pretty, his big brown orbs watery and bloodshot, his plump red lips bitten, his cute nose darkened from the constant rubbing as he ticked.

He was so perfect you couldn't fucking stand it. You let your knees do some work for you, finally lifting up a few inches and sinking back down to the hilt. Billy's eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched moan leaving him, the feeling of your sopping, gummy cunt tightening around him feeling fucking heavenly.

You pick up a steady pace quickly, letting yourself be consumed by Billy completely. His big hands running up and down from your waist to your hips and back again, his moans and whimpers clouding your head, his thick cock nudging at your insides so deliciously it made you ache.

You remove your hands from his face, reaching to unclasp your bra and let it fall, baring your tits to him. You shake him gently to make him open his eyes, so he can get a good eyeful. What you don't expect is for him to lean forward immediately and latch onto your left nipple, suckling gently.

"Oh, Billy," You're a moaning mess above him, your cunt feeling so full, whole body on fire with the feeling of his body hard pressed against yours. He's mouthing at your breasts, sucking on your nipples as if his life depended on it.

He's whining, hips stuttering up against yours to meet your bounces. There's no real rhythm to it, his inexperience clear as day, but you're struggling to care with how good he's making you feel. The catch and drag of the head of his cock brushing your spongey spot, making your pussy slicker than before.

"God, darling, I'm so sorry," Billy groans, letting go of your nipple and kissing along the swell of your tit instead, whining out as you speed up a little, helping him chase his orgasm, "I'm gonna cum, fuck."

"Do it, babe, s'okay," You moan, tugging at his hair a little to get him to crane his neck up, to finally press a kiss to his lips. That's what does it for him, has his hips stuttering against yours as he comes deep inside of you.

He opens his mouth to moan, and you take that as your opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to lap lazily against his own. He shudders through his orgasm, your hips slowing down to a stop when he starts to shake with overstimulation.

He's not very good at kissing, but his plump lips and wide tongue make up for it. You find your cunt fluttering at the feeling, clamping down around his cock to milk the final bit of come out of him. You try not to be disappointed that you haven't been able to chase your own release, too focused on making Billy feel good.

You're not sure when you stop kissing, but when you do and you open your eyes again, you notice Billy's eyes are wet and his cheeks are stained with tear marks. You wipe his tears away with your thumb, smiling at him until he's forced to smile back.

"Good?" You ask gently, hips rocking subtly, his soft cock still nudging slightly against your soft spot. You try not to be pushy, knowing he'd be sensitive, but you can't help but want to do it again, the coil in your gut still wound tight with need.

Billy nods, huffing out a little, "I can - I can feel that, you know?" He says, nodding towards your soft hips moving, "It's - it's really sensitive, God."

You continue moving your hips in silence, squeezing your cunt around him, feeling his dick throbbing inside of you like it's trying to pique interest again. You really hope it does, you need to do this for a little longer, just a little.

"You can come again though, right? Let me try, please?" You're basically begging him, forehead to forehead and circling your hips back and forth on his already half hard cock and he's crying again, overcome with pleasure and sensitivity, struggling to think straight through the feeling of you on top of him.

Billy nods anyway, a silent yes and you use the leverage of your knees on the hard material of the chair to rise back up again, sinking back down softly. You do it like this until he's fully hard again, up down, up down, up down, your nails digging into the skin of his neck to keep yourself stable.

His hot hands on your waist make your skin feel like it's on fire, has your tummy coiling even tighter, the telltale sign of your own orgasm beginning to wash over you with every drag of his cock head against your gummy walls.

"That's it, Bill, God, your cock feels so good." You cry out, chasing your high until your cunt spasms around him and you feel the white-hot waves of pleasure crashing around you. A gush of slick comes from you, making your pussy impossibly wetter, so wet you feel it drip down your inner thighs onto Billy's own.

You feel like you black out for a second, only coming to when you feel Billy's hands grip onto your hips impossibly tighter so he can fuck up into you from below, his wet moans telling you he's close to coming again, too.

"Fuck, I love you, darling, shit. Love you, always have, m'so sorry, fuckfuck," Billy's hands slide up your back, tugging you until you're impaled on his cock impossibly deeper, chest pressed flush to his own as he comes for the third time, face buried into your neck tightly.

Your heart swells at his words, face flushing dark at the confession. Your insides bloom warmly, consumed with the sheer love you have for him, "I love you too, Bill. Loved you forever, was it not obvious?"

Billy's crying against your chest, hot tears spilling onto your bare chest, "No, I didn't, God, why didn't you tell me?"

"You needed to get better first, Bill." Your voice is soft, hand deftly running over his hair soothingly, "You're getting better now, though. It was time. I'm here forever, I'm not going anywhere."

You whisper encouraging words into his skin until his cries come to a stop, his shuddering body finally stilling. He'd finish his treatment, get the fuck out of here and you could start your life together.

It was the only thing keeping him focused on getting better - he needed to, to go out and see the world with you by his side.

#i'm gonna gnaw my fucking arm off by the way #i have felt so many things writing this it's not even funny omg #billy knight #billy knight fic #billy knight strike #billy knight x reader #billy knight fluff #billy knight smut #billy knight x female reader #billy knight x fem!reader #cb strike #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x female reader #my fanfic #mine

[kitorin]

boyfriend headcanons ! itoshi rin

contents. how you met, how you got to know each other, when he realized he liked you, how you started dating, dates, all fluff

warning. rin backstory spoilers, i can't write kiss scenes either, written with all lowercase intended, it's word vomit bc school has screwed me up mentally and i can't think properly atp lmao

a/n. reo, rensuke and yoichi ver coming soon, was supposed to be all four of them but tumblr didn't save some stuff so i lost motivation and i probably wrote too much for rin anyways

how you met

you were invited to hang out with a group of friends, but ended up hating it since you were basically invisible, since everyone else were talking about a common interest you didn't have

you ended up walking away, finding somewhere actually interesting, and found a muji store (minimalist retailer that sells a lot of household items and more), and had your own fun, looking through stationary, skin care, nice clothes, and more.

you were having a great time until you heard someone from the hangout looking for you and calling

rin who notices your panic right next to him, questions what's wrong (not necessarily out of concern, honestly probably because he may have found it slightly irritating)

after you explain your situation briefly, he nods and finds you somewhere to hide, and goes to deal with your friend

he's got perfect control over his facial expressions, he'd easily lie and even if your friend was persistent, he'd still scare him away

"haven't seen them in here, they left a while ago and you better stop yelling,"

"are you sure-?"

"yes. now piss off and stop disturbing everyone here,"

once he's sure your friend's gone, he goes back to where he instructed you to hide, giving you the clear

"i hope that lukewarm asshole wasn't your ex."

you're slightly amused at the word 'lukewarm' it wasn't a typical description you'd hear often. "nope, i'd never date him. thank you so much though. i really appreciate it, please let me do a favor for you"

before he can object, you grab a sample pen, scrawling your number on his hand, "send me a text and i'll do my best to help you with anything okay?" you send him a smile as his eyes widen in shock, "bye kind stranger, have a great day," and before he could respond, you were gone, rushing out the store out of embarrassment for not being able to slip away from your friend uncaught.

how he got to know you

[unknown number] : i really don't need a favor you know?

i hated that idiot anyways, loud and annoying

[you] : don't careeee, i want to make it up to you somehow, please?

i'm y/n, you?

[unknown number] : rin, itoshi rin

after he gave in to your offer, you ended up tutoring him, he didn't care about grades but his high school had a rule of requiring a certain standard of grades to compete in tournaments

turns out he wasn't even a bad student, he's diligent and consistent, he only needed a little bit of guidance and advice, with math being the exception

in between sessions, during breaks and outside of your tuition you'd talk a lot, considering how rin has no friends ("neither do you, your toxic ass friends shouldn't count" he replies when you realize it) and you're patient enough to deal with his personality

even after he has his grades up you still hangout with each other, watching horror movies, playing horror games, reading horror novels / comics (you introduced him to junji ito), and he'd even teach you some soccer when you visit his training. he also tries out all your hobbies and favourite things to do and eat

you two spend so much time together, simply because one has no other friends and the other has no healthy friendships

how he knew he liked you

BRO WAS IN DENIAL. FOR. SO. FUCKING. LONG.

he thought he had a health problem or fever when he felt his face getting hot, or that odd sensation in his stomach, or his heart relentlessly pounding against his chest

he tries to research it, doesn't believe it when he sees all those love related posts, so he literally goes to a doctor

his doctor probably almost instantly realized, and had to deal with rin's denial

"you experience these 'symptoms' with a certain someone, don't you?" the doctor doesn't even bother with noting down anything, he's 100% sure and knows it's perfectly in character for rin to do something like this

"that's not possible- that doesn't make se-," he pauses, and recalls that he only felt that way when it came to you, "... yes," he's sort of bashful, slightly embarrassed but quickly composes himself again. 'i apologise for doubting you, please continue,"

"no worries," with a grin, his doctor prepared leave and meet his next patient, "i diagnose you with love sickness,"

when i tell you, this man fucking asked him what meds to take and what to do as self treatment

his poor doctor mentally face palmed himself, sat himself back down and had a (long) talk with this emotionally repressed boy

rin still insists it's something medically wrong, but he's soon shoo-ed out of the office, while hastily being told to make sure he's honest with his feelings, otherwise it never goes right

back at home, he's lying in bed, revising what his doctor said

"rin you need to learn how to acknowledge your emotions. i understand they're confusing and i'm not a therapist, but you can't keep denying it. it's just as unhealthy to neglect your emotions as it is to ignore an injury,"

...

denial huh?

he thinks of you and his heart once again can't calm down, his face burns and his stomach is doing somersaults. he buries his face in his palm, groaning. he hated anything unfamiliar, anything that he couldn't navigate with confidence, or fully comprehend.

"do you really despise it? or do you refuse to acknowledge your feelings because you've never experienced something like this,"

his doctor's advice comes back to him, and he thinks.

if he truly loathed how you made him feel, why is he still hanging out with you, why is he still investing his time into you, why do you make him so damn happy?

he passed out eventually completely lost in thought

how you ended up dating

some time passes and you finally have the courage to confess to him only to receive a cold "i don't feel the same way," a complete lie

accepting his emotions was one thing, accepting a relationship is another. he could immediately feel regret clawing at his stomach, he wanted to tell you. badly, how much he likes you, your patience, intelligence, your kindness, literally everything

yet nothing comes out. only his stoic and stupid facade's character

you walk away after mumbling out an apology for making things awkward, and rin's left there standing, finger nails digging crescents of frustration into his palm

he's overwhelmed with his thoughts, some insisting for him to give up and accept that he fucked up, others demanding him to move and fix things

what would be worse than losing you, anyways?

and that last thought was the final push, he's basically sprinting towards you, soon his arms are wrapped around you, releasing a gasp of surprise from you.

"ri-?"

"i lied," rin blurts, internally screaming at himself to just say it, "i lied, i know i shouldn't have and i'm sorry. but i like you too much, i can't express or understand my feelings, i don't know anything about relationships or love either, and i wanted to hide how i felt so i wouldn't get hurt,"

"rin-," he doesn't let you finish, ignoring your whisper.

"but i don't care, i like you so much that i'm willing to risk hurting myself, anything's worth it if i can be with you, spend time with you, and love you. if it's for you i'd overcome all my fears of love. i can't afford love, but if it's for you i don't care anymore,"

"you're perfect, you always have been," he concludes his speech, almost breathless from how rushed it was. scarlet was dusted all over his face, teal eyes wide open.

that fact rin, someone who's never been good at communication, went this far to express how he feels for you, warms your heart even more.

"rin?"

"yes?"

"may i kiss you?"

somehow, he blushes even more, and as he nods your lips press together.

dates + other headcanons

MOVIE NIGHTS !! not at cinemas though since he prefers the comfort and privacy of his room, and doesn't like how loud or dirty cinemas can get

doesn't want to force you into anything too scary, but he secretly enjoys it when you end up clinging onto him

since he struggles with articulating his emotions, he likes using playlists and songs to (die for you - weeknd, shinunoga iiwa - fujii kaze, love, maybe - melomance, sweet - cigarettes after sex, COME INSIDE OF MY HEART - IV SPADES SUITS HIM SO WELL)

he's not a fan of pda, yet he wants to show you off to everyone he knows

if you genuinely like soccer and have an interest in it (obviously doesn't want to force you to watch 90 minutes of a sport you don't like) he'd watch his favourite games with you, even books tickets for the both of you if there are any good teams competing nearby

also takes great interest in your sports !! reads a lot about them so he can discuss them with you, and if you also compete in sports he puts together a training routine for you and asks to go to the gym together (say yes dumbass)

SURFINGGGG !! since he grew up in kamakura, he loves the beach and went to swim and surf a lot as a kid and would love to do it again with you, even if he hasn't done it in ten years (same rin, same). same with hiking too (kamakura's also famous for it as well)

visits the store with you where he always bought ice blocks with sae, the same lady who worked there when sae and rin still got around is still there, congratulates him for getting a partner, is proud of him

he's a great listener too, he prefers it over speaking a lot and you can talk to him about anything, whether you're talking shit about someone (he'd join in and start swearing) and or you're hyperfixating on your interests

whenever he gets a question related to his love life he takes a moment to blush when he thinks of you, pauses to compose himself (keeps you a secret for your privacy from the media), then says with a straight face that soccer is a priority, but everyone knows he's lying

©kouyun : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

#itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin blue lock #fluff #headcanons #blue lock headcanons #blue lock

[apieceofmi]

STRANGERS… or not

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: a stranger in a train that captive her heart, never seen him again… but his face was familiar, maybe that was more than just a connection, maybe she already saw him somewhere. A lot of research and… oh, yeah, she really sees his face before, her and millions of people… it's just sad that he seems so untouchable. Right?

Author’s note: Okay, so part 2 was unexpected, but It's here!! And now I have a few more ideas for this same couple and context… I think there are more coming. Anyway, hope you like it! xx

Part One (You don't have to necessarily read the first part to understand this one, it's up to you)

__________________________________________________________

Just when I thought that my chances are over, I found him. The stranger I’ve met in a train coming back from my hometown months ago, talked for hours and I left without knowing his name.

I took the same train and visit my parents more times than is good for my mental health, I sat there and wait for him, but got nothing. Then I searched in social media, everywhere I could think of, but it is so difficult to search for something - someone in this case - that you know nothing about. I have an image in my mind, the sound of a laugh, and nothing more. We shared so much that day, but as the days passed it seemed like nothing. Then, when I gave up and convinced myself that I was making it bigger than it should have been, when I accepted that it had become just a great memory, exactly how I wanted it, I found him.

Screaming in my phone, I'm not the only one that think he's a cool guy. I feel kind of stupid when I realize that he's not just an ordinary person, and that's probably why I thought I already knew him that day on the train.

Not a surprise, just me romanticizing my life again.

And maybe that is the reason why I'm doing it again, because I swear that I feel something more around this - him. In my delusion mind, you don't meet someone by chance. You don't screw up the chance you have to really know someone when you feel a special connection with them. Not like I did. Maybe that's the reason that I feel the necessity to just see him again. I don't know what I expect of this, and maybe I should just let it go, but I have friends that are delusional like me, and they support me with this crazy feeling… So, yeah, I listened to all of his band's albums and came to a show - just because it was in my city. It's not like I fight for tickets when I found out that they would be here. Not at all. 

Everything was good, and I was already feeling that coming to the show was the closure that I need to this history when my friend Anna, that came with me, grab my hand while we're exiting the venue.

“Let's wait outside. I know some fans do it, sometimes they stop to take pictures and talk to them.”

I get nervous immediately. I've already seen him, discovered who he is and for me that's enough, I don't have the courage to be in front of him again. I don't want him to think that I'm stalking him and make this role thing uncomfortable. It was supposed to be something nice, just it. Actually, it was just supposed to be a memory. Everything that happened after I left that day shouldn't have happened, I didn't say my name because I didn't want anything to happen. I'm going further than I should, I'm exceeding the limit I drew for myself. It's more than enough.

“No! We can't wait for them!” I protest, thinking in an excuse when Anna looks at me, her eyes narrow, knowing me well enough. “I have to work in the morning.”

“You can miss one rehearsal.”

“I have class tomorrow. I can't miss it, I'm the teacher.” I say, but Anna doesn't take me serious, she knows that I'm having a meltdown right now. “What if they don't even came out? We’re just going to lose time waiting here.”

Squeezing my hand, she smiles at me.

“Then at least you tried.”

So we wait, talk with some people that are waiting there too and it's cool. It's nice. But I can't stop feeling that I'm doing something wrong being here. I don't know, betraying the universe, maybe? I made my choice that day and just because I regret it now, can I just switch sides? 

Uh, no, I don't think so. 

Maybe it's supposed to be just like it was, some nice exchange in the train between strangers. Maybe it supposed for me not saying my name.

I'm almost given up and going home when I see them coming in our direction. Anna has a big smile in her face, her eyes shinning, and I almost can hear her saying - he's here! He's here! - but I just look at her and then at him approaching the others, and I freeze, taking a step back. 

There's another member of the band with him - with I know now that his name is Nicholas - and they start to talking with the little crowed waiting for them. I stay in the corner with Anna, without a clue to how to start this interaction without being a weirdo.

I'm still considering running out of here when his eyes catch me one time. Two times. A little frowning in his face in the third time. What if he doesn't remember me? 

“I know you” he says, his eyes studying mine, coming closer.

“We met at…” But I don't need to finish when his faces changes. He recognizes me. 

“Yes, I remember” he smiles. “You found me.”

I let out a small nervous breath, forcing it into a weak smile.

“It took long enough, but yes. I did found you.”

There’s a grin that won't leave his lips, and I cannot stop staring at it. 

“What's your name?” Yeah, here's the million dollars question.

I finally tell him my name, answering the question I should have answered months ago when I had the opportunity, then had to beg the universe for another chance.

“Well, I’m Noah” he says next.

“Nice to meet you.” I chuckled nervously.

I already know his name, but him saying it to me feels more legit. I think I can finally stop referring to this man in my mind as him or the stranger.

He finally has a name.

“You liked the show?” Noah asks.

“Yes! It was so great!” I rejoiced. “You guys are so talented! I was shocked when I was listening the albums, I'm just… I became a fan.”

The smile in Noah’s lips grows and the shy look in his eyes makes strange things happen in my stomach. I really hope that's not butterflies. It's like something frozen at the moment, at the same time suddenly I'm well aware of the people still around us, hoping for a little more time with the members of the band they came to see. 

Noah gives me a little embrace, catching me off guard when I hear his voice so close.

“You found me, now it's my time” he whispers in my ear.

“I follow you” I replied, the words coming out my mouth like it's an urgency. 

“Great.” he says, stepping back and giving attention to the person next to us.

I look around for Anna, who I didn't even see leaving, she's back at my side in a second.

“How it was?” she asks as we leave. 

“He said he's going to find me” I chuckle. “ I think on social media? I don't know.”

“It would be suspicious if he asked for your number in front of everyone.” She considers. “Or even invite you for, I don't know… their bus” Anna makes a funny face, giving me a side look. “I wouldn’t let you leave with him like that anyway, he’s cute and talented, but he’s still a man.”

I laugh, loving her a little more for taking care of me.

“I wouldn’t abandon you like that.” I say. “Thank you for coming with me.”

"Of course. As if I would miss the chance to help my best friend meet her train crush, who happened to be a fucking rock star." She rolls her eyes, getting into the car.

“It don't even make sense.” I let out a disbelief laugh. “Did you see how many people were there today? This is like impossible, he's famous, a celebrity, I'm not the kind of person…”

“Stop it right now.” She interrupts me. “He's a person just like you are. Yes, he's talented and is in a band that obviously is getting bigger every second, but it doesn't mean anything. He's human. You're human. It's all we need.”

“You're right, I'm thinking too much again.” I say, starting the car. “At least I tried.”

I'm already home getting ready to sleep when a notification came on my phone. A message on Instagram from an account with a peculiar profile pic. I don't make a ceremony and open it right away.

“I can't believe that I spend two hours talking with you that day and don't ask your name first thing!” 

“I swear, I'm not like this in normal situations”

“You got me nervous”

I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from smiling.

“I'm sorry for not saying my name when you asked. I regret it every day since I left.” 

“Two fools”

“How did you found me? I tried to look for you but get nothing”

“Well, I'm not as popular as you”

“A video of the band randomly appeared on my timeline, I think I talked about the guy on the train so much to my friends that the algorithm took pity on me and threw it in my face.”

“For once social media did something right”

“So… You're going to stay in town or…?”

“No. We already left”

“I didn't want to expose you out there earlier, but if you get me your number, I can let you know when I'm around?”

“I'll understand if you don't want to, my life can be a little crazy sometimes.”

There's no hesitation in my answer.

“I really want to know better the guy that I met on the train three months ago and can't stop wondering about, so… Yes, If that's okay for you.”

“Great. I've searched for you in every city that we go to since that day, can't wait to properly get to know you too, stranger.”

So I sent my number.

And God, I should have known I was in trouble the moment I got that first message from him. As the days went by, I realized that I was crazy to think that Noah was untouchable just because of what he does for a living, he has become the funniest and sweetest person I know.

We're definitely not strangers anymore.

Not when we talk every day now.

Not when I learned all his favorites.

Not when I’m counting days to see Noah in person again.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens x reader #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fluff

[sweetlittlegingy]

I Don't Need Your Closure

✦ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother

✦Word Count: 8.5K

✦Warnings: Fluff, Angst, mentions of SA (previous relationship), self-hate, nightmares, deployment, anxiety, slight smut, shower smut.

✦A/n: This was sitting in my drafts for the past 5 days, I couldn't write the end... but now it's here, thank the gods.

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

You couldn’t stop pacing; not since you woke up this morning, and you had continuously been on the move ever since. You’d woke up this morning, after tossing and turning all night, brain buzzing like a live wire.  

Your sleep pattern had been erratic ever since Jake got deployed, the short two months had turned into eight months, and you were exhausted. It wasn't like you and Jake slept together; heck you weren't even actually together, but it was knowing that he was close that let you sleep, and with him gone… well your sleep disappeared too. 

The two of you had been left in this weird, awkward phase after the incident happened.  God, you couldn’t even think about, let alone talk about. You hadn’t told anyone what happened, and well, you and Jake hadn’t discussed it either.  

I mean that could have partially been your fault, given that any time Jake called you made sure that Mathew was in the room, so he couldn't bring it up. But how else were you supposed to process it… Jake wasn’t here and well; you were so damaged that you weren’t even sure if you knew how to do the whole “relationship” thing anymore.  

Though you have been having trouble sleeping in the last eight months, last night it was on a whole new level. You didn’t even know if you could consider your sleep last night, even sleeping. Given the fact that you would fall asleep for 30 minutes and then wake back up, your mind was on a constant loop that you couldn’t shut off. Not only were the nightmares insistent on ruining the state of your current mental health, but the added anxiety had completely screwed you over. 

It was the constant flood of nagging questions, anxiety, confusion, and the overall terrifying feeling that your and Jake’s relationship might be forever changed after today.  

Their deployment was finally up and the whole Dagger Squad was coming home today. But with the deployment ending, that meant Jake was home, and with Jake home that meant you had to have a conversation about the incident, and you just couldn't do it. Because that conversation was going to change everything.  

It would change things in a way that terrified you; in a way that could mean losing Jake Seresin forever. If that was the outcome, well, you don’t think you could live through that kind of loss.  

The kind of loss that was from losing the man that you think you love, but don't know how to love. Losing the one person that made you finally see the light of day. The man that had already come in and picked up all the pieces of your heart. Who had formed an amazing relationship with your son. Who loved and was loved by your son. Who had changed you so exponentially and erratically, that a life without him wouldn't be a life you wanted to live. That kind of loss would be the end of you.  

When you finally left Adam, it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. The ending of that relationship was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you, like you finally had a chance to restart and build a life for you and Mathew. Where you would both be safe and loved, to start anew.  

But the idea of losing Jake, you were sure that outcome would destroy you. Not only you but also Mathew, the four-year-old had grown insanely attached to Jake. So much so that even with this deployment, Mathew was always asking about him and got the chance to talk to him at least once every two weeks, if not once a week. 

You finally place the last book on the shelf, taking a step back, and glance to the “new spot” in which you'd place the bookshelf. You'd moved it around three times already this morning, the redecoration of your office had been the chosen form of distraction, and the new spot was technically the spot in which it started, but the activity had kept you busy, and truth be told that's the only thing keeping you at work.  

You technically didn't need to be here today at all, but you wanted to finish up on paperwork for a new set of incoming recruits. Though, those plans quickly went out the window when you looked at the paperwork and all you saw was Jake. They hadn’t even been touched, which was saying a lot, given that you got here at 6:00 AM.  

No one was in the office, given that the squadron was coming home. You shouldn't have even been in the office, but it was better to be here. With your mind radically spiraling, then in your own home where you saw Jake everywhere. Technically he was here too, but at least work was filled with formal Jake. Home was filled with cuddly Jake, and amazing with Mathew, Jake. It was just a lot of Jake, that made you feel things you shouldn’t.  

“If you move that again, I'm calling the psychiatric doctor.”  

The voice startles you and makes you jump slightly; your hard gaze crosses the room to find your sister resting against the doorway to your office.  

“Yeah, I don't know how you didn't hear me or see me. I've been here since the second move of that shelf and I'm a little bit worried about you.” Her tone had remained teasing until she caught the way you couldn't stop fidgeting, and the downfall of your eyes cast to the ground.  

Penny is at your side before you can even glance back up at her. Both her hands rest against your arms and rub up and down in a comforting manner.  

“Y/n, what’s going on?”  

You're shoulders slightly relax in her hold, though the tight smile that you try and give her only makes her worry about you more. You don't know how to talk about it, how are you supposed to tell Penny that you've been keeping a massive secret from her for eight months. 

You can't help it when you start pacing again, brushing her hands off you, only to receive a loud sigh in reaction. You glance back at Penny and find her resting against your desk, silently waiting for you to tell her what the hell was going on. 

The dramatic sigh you release would have been hilarious if it wasn't so serious. Deciding that it's better to just rip the Band-Aid off; quick and easy. You come to stand in front of your sister, hands resting on your hips, back straight, and trying to remain as calm as possible. 

Penny gives you a reassuring smile and patiently waits for you to continue. With a deep sigh, words start tumbling out of your mouth before you can even comprehend what you're saying.  

“Everything would’ve been fine; it could’ve been fine if he hadn’t kissed me. If after that first weekend that Jake met Mathew, I buried feelings and emotions and hid them deep within the ground.” You don't even realize that you've started pacing again, and the wide eyes from Penny, clearly mean she had no idea about what was going on. Your anxious pacing certainly isn’t helping her as she tries to process your words, just as fast as you say them.    

“I could have hidden them and continued to have an amazing friendship with Jake. Not the relationship I want and hoped for, but at least a friendship. At least a life where Jake was a part of mine and Mathew’s everyday routine.”  

And you had, you really had. You’ve done so good at hiding it, any and every emotion that wasn’t friendship, you had been able to hide from Jake for a year and a half. It killed you not to be able to hug him, love him, and express emotions like you wanted, but you weren’t sure if he liked you like that.  

After that long weekend, you slowly started to pull back, well aware of every moment in which you were in each other's arms. It had been hard, but pulling away was easier than free-falling, and Jake had never said anything. He hadn't commented on how you started drifting apart. He’d never shown any emotion or any signs that he wanted anything else, anything more with you.  

And now… 

Your friendship had turned utterly grey when it should’ve been black and white. When you should’ve been able to separate your emotions and feelings. Not with Jake though, everything with him bled it into a mess of colors. Lines a mess, stripped and running through each other. Nowhere near the nice perfect picture you wanted; with colors that stayed in the lines and didn’t bleed.       

The life that had you and Jake in the same picture, even if there was a large line separating you. Because even with that vast wasted space in between you, you still had each other. You never had to worry about stepping on each other’s toes, or whether he would get annoyed with you, or hate you, or not like you, or not love you…    

Tears fall from your eyes, without you noticing. You've been so worked up that you hadn't noticed how your body started to shake and that barely any of your words were audible. That it was only a mumbled mess, and Penny had only been able to pick of random words in it.  

“Hey, it’s okay sweetie.”  

The heaving of your chest doesn't slow as Penny pulls you into her, rocking you slightly like she used to when you were little. One hand grasping at your back, while the other brushes your hair slightly, as she continually says that everything is going to be okay in your ear. Though it doesn't feel okay. All it feels like is that you're completely overwhelmed, and you don't know how to process it. Like your walls were caving in and no matter how hard you tried, it was going to collapse on top of you. 

Like the last eight months, you've spent burying everything was for nothing because now it's all wide open for everybody to see. 

“I just don't know what to do Pen. He came to say goodbye the night before his deployment, and he kissed me. He kissed me and it felt like everything was right and perfect, and then he just left. He didn't say anything; just turned and left.” 

You hate the stare of pity that you get from Penny, she looks at you like if she says the wrong thing it's going to completely break you. Which it might, but that doesn't mean you want her to walk on eggshells around you. 

“I’m sure he was just scared.”  

You scoff slightly and your eyes roll, nearly touching the back of your head. 

“This is Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, we're talking about Pen. I've seen that man do terrifying shit, believe me when I tell you he was not scared. I don't know what he was…” 

This time it's Pennys turned to scoff at you, before going into full mom mode. 

“Sweetheart, there is so much that you don't see, and you really need to talk to Jake about this.” The thought of having THIS conversation with Jake makes your anxiety spike again, and you're surprised that your bottom lip hasn't split open from the way that you've chewed on it. 

“You don’t get it Pen, the only time I was able to sleep soundly was when he was in the house. When he was close by. The last eight months have been hell for me, because every night I wake up screaming. And sometimes it’s memories, but other times its Mav coming to tell me that he’s not here anymore. That something went wrong, and that Jake died. And those dreams, those are so much worse than the memories… and that’s saying something when you’ve been through everything I have.” 

Your breathing doesn't slow, as you start pacing again, the onset of your panic attack is noticeable, but you can't stop it. Your glossed-over eyes don't know where to look because everything's a blur, and you can't stop the tears from running down your face. The slight shake of your arms has you gripping your shoulders, as you kneel down against the wall, back pressed in trying to ground yourself.  

The continuous audio in your head of Adam screaming at you, and telling you how you weren't worth loving. That no one would ever love you, and that you were a waste of space. The emotions and feelings seep back in, of how he hurt you. How the bruises and cuts might have been healed, but your heart had never healed. Sure, Jake picked up the pieces and glued you back together, but he didn't understand the real damage. The internal damage that kept you lying awake at night. It was incessant and ever-looming, just waiting for the right moment.  

You are damaged beyond repair, and you couldn't understand why everybody in your life claimed to love you, when you couldn't even love yourself. And if you couldn't even love yourself, how could Jake ever. But even if he ever did, you couldn’t let him see the real you, because the real you wasn’t worth it. 

The shuttering in your shoulders hadn't stopped, but the tears had finally stopped falling and as you look up at Penny who has tears in her own eyes, the only emotion you can feel is vacancy.  

“I love Jake, but I don’t know how to be loved or love anymore. That part of me hid away a long time ago, and I'm terrified that I'm never going to get it back.” 

It's a number of sweet nothings that fall from Penny's lips, as she grasps onto you and pulls you into her chest. The both of you calming, safely resting in your big sister’s arms. The anxiety and stress drain from your body, though an overwhelming tiredness consumes you, and at some point, you fall asleep.  

A welcomed dreamless sleep, one that you don't wake up screaming from. 

… 

“I haven’t seen her like this since we were kids. She used to have really bad nightmares when dad got deployed, but this … It scared me.” 

Jake's eyes cast back to your sleeping form on the floor of your office, the setting sun peers through the window and even in your current state, Jake still thought you looked absolutely gorgeous. 

“Is this the only breakdown she's had?” He doesn't mean for his tone to come off harsh, but he's a man in love and insanely protective.  

“She said that she's been having nightmares again, but the way she described them… it's been bad Jake and she's been doing it alone. Because she doesn't think she's worth telling anyone.”  

Penny can't stop the onset of tears, as she watches her baby sister sleep. Still reeling from the information that she learned and wondering what in the world your ex had done to you, that made you think so harshly about yourself. 

“I don't know what happened to her in Florida, but when Bradley brought her home, she didn't talk for a week, and when she finally did start talking it was like nothing happened.” 

The new information makes Jake's breath hitch slightly; Rooster hadn't gone into direct details about what happened when he brought you home. Jake knew it was bad, but to hear the raw details like that, felt like a knife had been plunged through his chest.  

“I didn't see my little sister for months, she was only a shell of the girl she used to be, and then you show up. Whatever you did brought back a light in her. But after what I just saw, just heard, I’m terrified that it is, or it already has completely gone out.”  

Penny's gaze cuts back from you to Jake, and her eyes pierce through his soul. He'd never seen Penny so heartbroken; in all the time he's been a Top Gun, Jake had never seen the oldest Benjamin so lost.  

“I don't know all the details of what happened between you two, but she thinks that you don't have any feelings for her. Which I know is a goddamn lie, but she believes with her whole heart that she is not worth it. That she doesn’t deserve to be loved.” Penny breathes in a shattered breath as she tries to collect her thoughts, eyes closing for a moment still processing all the new information.  

“I know that you can't make her change your mind, but she needs to know. Because right now she's terrified of losing you, and that thought alone has sent her spiraling, so deep into a black hole that she can't dig herself out. So, you have to, and if you can't, you need to tell me right now.”  

The overwhelming sense of love and pure heartache that echo through the hollows of Jake’s heart, has the lump in his throat catching. A silver mist of tears lines his eyes, begging to fall, and as he watches the steady breathing flow in and out of your chest, they do. A sharp breath is sucked in, his hand quick to wipe away the stray tear, and his eyes never leave your broken form. 

“She’s, my girl.” The statement has a shutter breath gasping from his chest, “guess it’s time I buck up and make it official.”  

The harsh laugh that falls from Jake’s chest, is only to hide the pain he feels. The pain that he's caused you, not only the kiss but waiting so long. The time that he spent waiting for you to make the move when in reality you needed him to make it. To tell you that you were enough and that you were worth the love. 

“Umm… Do you know where Maty is?”  

A happy laugh falls from Penny’s chest as Jake asks the question, of course, Matthew was the main priority right up next to you. 

“Yeah, he’s with mom and dad, but Amelia wanted to watch him tonight. I can go over and pick him up, don't worry about him.” Penny sees the slight apprehension on Jake's face.  

“I always worry about him.” His statement is firm and not meant to be questioned. 

Eye contact between the two is understanding, Jake had worried about Mathew just as much as Penny ever worried about Amelia. Penny knew then, that whether Mathew was blood-related or not to Jake, he was his son.  

“I know, but I can handle tonight. I just need you to be there for Y/n.”  

The gentle squeeze of the hand that Penny gives Jake, is a silent welcome. It was like at that moment before anyone else knew, Penny had declared Jake a part of the Benjamin family. 

… 

The soft stroke of your hair pulls you from the deep sleep, and your headaches slightly from the tears that you had shed. You're unsure if it's your mind playing tricks on you, or if he's actually here, if he is actually back. These last eight months have been rough, and your mind had started playing games on you.  

Nights that you thought that he was with you, were only a harsh reminder to you when you woke up, and he was gone still. Though the familiar smell of jet fuel mixed in with his cologne is lulling you into a false state of comfort and ease.  

The clench of your eyes shut tighter, gives you away, signally that you were awake. Though you were too afraid to open your eyes, too scared that the presence you thought was there would disappear. That Jake would still be gone. Though you're even more scared of the conversation that's sure to ensue if the presence really is Jake.  

“Sweets, wake up for me baby.”  

The sound of his voice has you gasping, as your eyes fly open, and once again tears stream down your face. The choked sound of the sob that leaves your chest, is more than enough motivation for Jake to grip onto you and pull you to him.  

“I’m here, Sweets.”  

And though the statement should comfort you, it only has your tears falling harder and faster. And even though you know you shouldn't, even though you're terrified of the outcome, you can't stop your hands from gripping onto his shirt. You hold on to him like he could slip between your fingers and fade away at any moment. 

The stroke of Jake's hand through your hair and the tracing of his finger up your spine comforts you. Soothing your sobs momentarily as the both of you sit in silence, clinging to one another. If only, for just this moment. 

… 

You're not sure how much time has passed, but you know that your knees ache from the kneeling position that you're in. You know that it had to be a substantial amount of time as the white tee shirt you're pressed into against jake's chest, is completely soaked with your tears.  

Even though you don't want to, even though you wish that you could stay in this specific moment forever, you pull away. Your eyes focus and you find his emerald, green pair watching you.  

Though they don't hold the same light happy nature you're used to, tears streamed down from his face and that emerald green that's usually so bright and happy is surrounded by sorrow and sadness. A pain that strikes you right to your core. 

“Jake” His name barely slips past your lips before you're gasping for breath and crying again, your chest shuddering and shaking as your emotions take over once again. Though this time it's not Penny trying to smooth you.  

It's Jake, your Jake.  

Who has been gone so long, but now is here in your arms holding you and pressing gentle kisses against the crown of your head. He was actually home.  

Even though your mind is screaming at you to pull away, to pull up the walls once again. Your heart craves Jake, and you can’t stop yourself from melting in his hold. 

“Sweets, let’s go home.”  

You pull away from Jake before quietly questioning him, “Together?”  

The pain is clear in your voice, and the sight of your near-trembling lip would break Jake altogether. But he finally had your tears subsiding, and he wasn’t going to risk you getting triggered by his own tears.  

“Of course.”  

His voice is steady and calming, as his hand comes up to brush a stray hair from your face, you can’t stop yourself from nuzzling into his palm.  

“Darlin’ home is wherever, as long as it’s with you.”  

His words sink deep in your chest, and you wonder if he means them, the same way that you do, when you mutter, ‘You are my home’ quietly against his palm.  

Jake helps you up, the waver in your legs would send you tumbling if Jake's hands weren’t securely wrapped around your waist. 

Though as if your standing, triggered the fog filling your mind to fade away, a harsh gasp slips from your lips, and you’re consumed with guilt.  

“Mathew, oh my god..”  

Before you can once again tumble into despair, Jake softly lifts your chin, and your eyes meet.  

“Already taken care of darin’.”  

The question of how forms on your lips, but is forgotten as Jake places a kiss on your forehead.  

“He’s staying the night at Penny’s, he was my top priority, right next to you.” 

He’s words warm your chest, and once again you remember why you, quite possibly love this man. Though your mind hastily ignores the thought, as it enters your mind.  

“I miss the bug, but getting to have you to myself for one night is worth it.”  

“Jake –” 

“Not till we get home, Sweets.”  

… 

The drive home passes quickly with Jake driving your car, and you can't help but feel slightly bad, after all, he just got back from an 8-month deployment. You’re positive that he is shattered, considering the dark circles under his eyes, and you know that he came straight to you, considering the fact that his pack is now in your back seat, and he is still in his flight suit.  

The feeling doesn't sit well in the base of your gut, and the anxiety of once again, of not being enough circulated through your mind. If you wouldn’t have been such a mess, then Jake wouldn’t need to be taking care of you. He shouldn’t have to be away for months on end, working his ass off, and have to come home to this.  

You should be taking care of Jake. You should have been driving him home and already had dinner ready, but instead, you’ve failed once again. Only proving that each comment Adam ever said to you was true.  

Jake pulls into your drive, and you’re so consumed with your doubt that you don’t even notice that you’ve parked until Jake opens your door. His palm faces up and waits for you to grasp it. When you do, Jake is quick to shut your door and rest you back against it. His eyes hold nothing but warmth and concern for you, though you can’t see it.  

“Darlin’ you’re thinkin’ so loud, it’s given me a headache.”  

At the sound of you causing him stress, your head snaps up and you start profusely apologizing. Which only concerns Jake more, you were usually always snapping back at his sarcasm, and given the way you’ve continued to mutter apologies at him, he knows that you’ve fallen in deep.  

The quiet drive home didn’t sit well with him, it was unusually tense and not the peaceful silence that was always between the two of you.  

No, this silence was heavy and made him feel like you were slowly slipping away. Forgoing grabbing his pack, Jake slips his hand in your own and tugs you up the walk. Unlocking the door with the keys, he had gotten from you back on base and ushers you into the kitchen. The continued silence worries him, Penny’s words ringing loud in his ear.  

She didn’t talk for a week, then it was as if nothing happened. 

He can't handle the thought of you going silent on him, of you in so much pain that speaking is too much work. You stand there so still and silent in the middle of the kitchen, completely numb and unmoving to the outside world.  

“Sweets?” His soft voice and the brush of his hand against your cheek pulls you out of the daze. A soft hum falls from your lips in acknowledgment, though you say nothing else.  

“Baby, what do you need? Please talk to me.”  

You'd never heard Jake sound so desperate, like whatever you said to him would either make or break him.  

“I … I –” 

It doesn't surprise you when both of Jake's hands come to rest against your cheeks, tilting your head up so you're looking him directly in the eyes. He can see it in your eyes, the pain that you're swimming in, practically drowning.  

“Darlin’ what do you need, ignore the thoughts, and the outside world. Baby, it's just us.” 

Your eyes never falter as you stare at Jake, his presence automatically calmed you after the last eight months, and suddenly you don't care.  

Your mind had been too much and all you wanted was Jake. You know it'll kill you tomorrow when you've got a clear mind, but in this moment you can't care. Because of the way you are spiraling, the hateful words and memories from your past we're consuming you, if you didn't stop it, it would only lead to disaster.  

For the first time tonight, a small glint in your eye reappears. A small hope for Jake that you would be okay. 

“I need you.”  

And without a second thought for the repercussions, your arms wrap around Jake’s neck and pull his lips down to slot against your own. Eight months had been a long time, but his lips against yours felt just like you remembered. They fit perfectly against your own, though now slightly chapped, no doubt from the incessant way that he licked his lips when they started to dry.  

And just as quick as it started, Jake was pulling away. His hands remained on your hips, keeping you close but far enough away that he could look you in the eyes. He almost feels like an asshole, when a flash of pain crosses your face, and you start pulling farther away from him.  

“Nope, no. Darlin’ look at me, we're fixing this right now.”  

The harsh tone of his voice makes you whimper, and Jake actively curses himself for using such a rough tone with you, but he needed your attention, he needed you to listen. One of his hands leaves your hips and comes to rest just under your chin, which had settled facing downward. Jake's thumb and forefinger gently nip at your chin before tilting it up, giving you no choice but to look at him.  

“This is in no way how I wanted to go about this, but Penny told me some things darlin’ and I can't leave words left unsaid anymore. Not when you're in pain because of me.”  

The only thoughts passing through your mind are, ‘this is it, this is the end…’ The pain of the thought is too much, and your lip starts to slightly tremble as you wait for Jake to make the final blow.  

“Sweetheart, when I kissed you right before we left, it wasn't some quick decision. I kissed you because I couldn't take the risk of dying, and never knowing what we felt like.” The sharp intake of air you breathe has Jake worried and his own follows suit. If he hadn’t been clutching onto you for dear life, he was sure that he would’ve been pacing. His own anxiety trigging his hand to brush back through his hair, before settling. “And damn it, you felt like utter perfection against me, but then I realized how I'd broken a promise. A promise I made to never rush you into anything or throw my feelings at you, without you doing it first, and so, I left. Like a damn idiot, I left.”  

The tremble of your lips only quickens, as your once slackened hands raise up to brush against Jake's cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that have fallen. He nuzzles into the palm of your hand only slightly, before placing a quick kiss on it.  

“Sweets… I decided then, that if I died, it would be okay. Because at least for a moment, no matter how small it was, I had perfection.”  

The statement makes your heart speed, the realization slowly setting in that the kiss wasn’t a fluke, and that Jake had meant it. That everything you felt wasn’t one-sided, and it should have been enough to stop you from the slew of harsh words racing through your mind. The fact that Jake liked you should have been able to pull you out of the darkness, but it hadn’t.  

“You don’t want me, Jake.” The harsh gasp that leaves your chest turns into a failed laugh and Jake had never seen you so in doubt of yourself. “I’m so fucking broken, and I don’t know if I can be fixed.”  

 The palm that rests against your cheek flexes momentarily. Jake hated everything you just said, you had no right to tell him whether he wanted you or not.  

“Darlin’ I will always want you.”  

“You shouldn’t have to be with damaged goods, you’re worth more than that.”  

You would have been scared if he was Adam because the noise that releases from Jake’s chest is full of anger and pain. The fire reignites in his eyes, and even if you wanted to look away you couldn’t. Not when his eyes watched you with such passion.  

“Y/n Charlotte Benjamin, I don’t care if you have never listened to me or if you never listen to me again, but you will listen to me right now.” The authority in his voice has you reaching out to him, grasping his left hand in between your own and you give him a nod to continue. “You and Mathew are the best thing that has ever happened to me, over my career and my rank, against everything you are the best.  Now, I don’t know everything that happened to you, and I will never make you tell me, but darlin’ I will spend the rest of my life making sure you realize your worth.” His words pause for a moment, caught in his throat as Jake tries to hold himself together. “Sweets, you might be broken, but mosaics are some of the most beautiful pieces of work.”  

This time Jake doesn’t pull away when you kiss him. His arms wrap around your waist, grasping at your form in any way, and needing to pull you into him. To consume you whole, and never let go.  

The kiss is slow and thought out, every move of the lips is like a dance between the two of you. The softness with which you started to kiss is completely forgotten, as your arms wrap around Jake’s neck and pull him in closer. With everything in your being, you hope that those words that you can’t say yet are passing through and that Jake understands.  

Your fingers card through the hair at the base of his neck and tug, and your toes curl at the moan that Jake releases against your lips. A matching moan falls from you, when Jake nips at your bottom lip, before moving from your lips and kissing down your jawline.  

Your head tips back in delight and your eyes roll closed, overwhelmed with Jake, but also needing more. The whine that leaves your lips as Jake pulls away is loud and causes Jake to smirk down at you. Causing the blush on your cheeks to deepen, and the warmth from your face slides down, burning into your skin like a wildfire consumes the brush.  

Jake’s breath pants out against your lips, unsteady as he leans his forehead against your own. His hands rub up and down your arms, squeezing gently as they go, and his eyes watch you. Patiently waiting to see if you’ll pull away, or if you wanted this just as much as he did.  

Jake finds no trace of doubt in your mind, you still weren’t his bubbly girl, that teased and poked at him, but you were here. 

Here with him, and no longer pulling away.  

“Darlin’ we need to get you in the shower,” His hand comes up to brush along your brow, before placing a kiss where his thumb had just been. “You go and relax, wash everything down the drain, and I’ll find a movie for after.”  

The thought of a shower sounded like heaven, your skin had gotten slightly sticky after the cold sweat that broke out across your body, but you didn’t want to leave Jake right now. You couldn’t leave Jake right now; you were sure that your body and mind wouldn’t allow it.  

“Want you.” The statement is so quiet and simple, but the way you look at Jake makes him easily complaint. 

“I know sweets, but you need to wash up. I promise after you get out, that you can have me all you want.”  

“No,” You’re stubborn and for a moment Jake expects you to stomp your foot, “I want you to come with me, don’t wanna be away from you.” 

His eyes watch you, waiting for you to realize what you’re asking for, then to backtrack, but you don’t. Your eyes stay firmly on him, waiting for him to answer.  

“Sweets, you want me to come in the shower with you?”  

A nod against his chest is the only answer Jake gets before you pull him with you toward the bathroom. You couldn’t understand it, but deep within you, you need Jake next to you. Not just in the house, but his skin on yours, constantly touching.  

It might have been needy of you and moving way too fast, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.  

Jake shuts the door behind both of you and reaches into the shower to turn it on. Your form stays stationed in the middle of the bathroom, and you watch his movements with a slight pout. You had never been the type that liked to be babied, but all you wanted was for Jake to take care of you. To focus all of his attention on you, and you, alone.  

You follow his movements around the bathroom, the stretch of the white tee shirt against his back has a heat pooling in your core. One that most defiantly shouldn’t be there, not at a time like this, when you had been bawling for the past twelve hours. But the way in which Jake tied his flight suit around his waist and with his usually perfect hair is a mess, from Jake raking his hand through it, sets off a deep need within you.  

“Sweets, you need to get naked if you’re getting in.” The glance over his shoulder stops the teasing tone in its tracks. Jake's words fail him, as he sees the look in your eyes. It’s the same one that you had when you got drunk and kissed him. He knew that look and lord, it was going to take all of his strength not to take you.  

A groan falls from his lips, as you lift your arms and mutter out a ‘you’ to him. You stay still, waiting for him to come to you and comply with your demand. He walks towards you so slowly that you think you may burst, though when Jake’s hands find your hips, the hum you give him in return is enough of a go-ahead for him to pull the shirt from your body.  His eyes never leave your own, though your chest slightly heaves in anticipation of being with Jake like this. So bare and exposed, in more ways than the literal sense. 

Your hair is a mess upon your head, the strand falling around your face with the removal of your shirt. Jake's hand comes up to brush a few strands from your face before his palm finds home on your cheek again and his thumb creases over your lips.  

It’s soft and delicate, he’s trying to be the perfect gentleman with you. Though it’s like you’ve lost complete control of your body, and even if you wanted to stop it, which you don’t, you couldn’t. As Jake smooths his thumb over your bottom lip for the last stroke, your lips slip open, and you take his thumb into your mouth. Your lips close around him, eyes fluttering closed, and suck.  

“Fuck”  

The curse is enough for your eyes to open, though you don’t release his thumb. As your eyes flutter up to meet his piercing green ones, you scrap your teeth gently over the pad of his thumb, then suck again to soothe it.  

The grunt that echoes through the steamed bathroom makes your toes curl, and as you pull your mouth off Jake, the sweetest smile graces your face, your bottom lip bitten and yet so innocent.  

“Hi.”  

The straps of your bra slip from your shoulders, and while holding the front to you, you reach behind you to flick the band open. The sound has Jake’s eyes moving down momentarily before he corrects himself and stares into your eyes.  

“Darlin’.”  

The warning tone only makes you giggle, as you drop the bra to the ground, and take a step closer to Jake, tugging at his white shirt.   “Maybe you should take the shower alone, Sweets.” 

Jake's eyes settle on the wall just above your head, his hands no longer sit at your hips, but clenched in fists at his sides. The smile on your face instantly drops at his words, your hands move to cover your chest, and you instantly feel unwanted once again. You shake your head, appalled at your stupidity. You've clearly taken it too far when you didn't mean to, and you can feel yourself shrink back. Embarrassed about how you've just acted and wishing that you were just invisible. 

“I'm really sorry, I just –” the words catch in your throat and make you feel even more pitiful. “I don't know what came over me. I just needed you…” you stutter slightly tripping over your words, and as Jake lifts your chin to look at him the tears fall.  

“Oh, sweetheart.”  

Jake steps forward to pull you into his chest though before he can grab you, you're stepping back, and a flash of hurt crosses his face. 

“I can't talk when you're holding me, you make me feel things and everything gets all discombobulated in my head.” 

Jake only relaxes slightly, as he moves back to lean against the door and gives you as much space as possible. His brow furors and the lines on his forehead crease, a clear indication that his mind is running wild, just as fast as yours.  

“I needed you… I need you. It’s this deep ache in my chest, one that I need you to fix, but I don’t know how. Things happened; he did things that are still burned into my skin, I can still feel him, and I hate it.”  

If you hadn’t been so hyper-aware, you would have missed the way Jake stiffened. Not at your need for him, but when you mention Adam and what happened.   

“Sweets, if I could erase everything that he did to you I would. You’ve no idea how bad I want to kill him–” 

Jake cuts himself off before he can be consumed with rage and moves toward you again. This time you don’t move and welcome the hand that comes to brush against your cheek. Your eyes fall shut, as Jake wraps you in his arms and tucks you safely into his chest. 

“I don’t know how to be loved, Jake.” Your voice is muffled into his shirt, but he still hears you.  

“I know, Sweets.”  

The hand tracing up and down your spine never falters, though the words aren’t what you want to hear.  

“No Jake, I don’t know how.” You pull back from him so that he can see the desperation, and need in your eyes. “But I… I want to love you.”  

“Okay, then let me take the pain. Please darlin’. Let me replace all of those bad memories and those feelings that are burned into your skin. Baby please, just let me erase the pain.”  

“And tomorrow, we can talk about everything else.”  

Without a second thought, your head nods, wanting nothing more than for Jake to encase you completely. You needed him to replace the pain and ghost of unwanted hands; to be the remedy to your broken shell.  

The hand grasping at your back moves up, slowly tracing your bare skin and memorizing every dip and divot. As if it was the first time that Jake had ever touched you, had ever truly got to breathe you in. Your breath only picks up slightly, as your forehead rests against his chest, and quiet pants fall from your lips and into his chest. The both of your breaths sync in pace, as goose bumps line your skin.  

Your once-dormant hands rise and grip onto Jake's white shirt. You twist the material in your hands, and it strains across Jake’s chest, the conscious part of your brain grasping at anything to ground yourself. Though the ghost of his lips over your neck, has a whimper leaving your lips as your head dips back and exposes your neck to Jake. 

The drag of Jake’s nose against your neck has your toes curling. His breathing, is hot against your neck as he litters it with delicate kisses, pausing occasionally to place open-mouth kisses on your pulse point.  

Though the kisses are sweet, the occasional nip of his teeth confirms that he is leaving marks along his path. Though you can’t find it in yourself to tell Jake to stop, even if it was against work policy, you would never stop Jake from marring your skin.  

No, these ones you wanted. You craved the way in which they healed you.  

Your need to touch Jake is no longer fulfilled by the soft cotton wrapped tightly around your hands. You tug up on the fabric, and Jake's tan skin peeks out as a tease, taunting you. Though Jake is quick to tug his shirt up and off when a whine falls from your lips.  

Jake watches as your hands make contact with his stomach muscles, and a soft smile forms on your face as you trace the ridges. The sharp breath Jake sucks in when you trace along his pant line, causes you to giggle and trace along his v-line once more.  

The light filling your eyes as you glance back up to Jake has his heart clenching. The steam of the shower surrounds you both and your hair is slightly damp, sticking to your face in places. It was too early, too fast, for Jake to utter that four-letter word to you, but he’d never been more sure than in that moment.  

The smile creasing your face only widens, when Jake’s hands slip up to your cheeks. Cupping them and tugging you up slightly, as he dips to meet your lips in a passionate kiss. Only pulling back when you both have to gasp for breath, though neither of your gazes leaves the other.  

The green of Jake’s eyes had never appeared so bright as they did now, resting against each other’s foreheads and inhaling the importance of each other’s presence. The kiss that Jake brushes against your brow, is more than enough to confirm that the feeling you share is real. That for once, you both are exposing yourselves completely and surrendering, only to be met with a returned passion, one that could no longer be hidden.  

“My girl.”  

The statement is muttered against your lips, as one of Jake's hands comes up to trace patterns along your cheek. Though you had heard Jake say it about you an endless number of times, this one wasn’t just a statement, but a defined claim over your mind, body, and soul.  

“Yours, for as long as you want me.”  

“Darlin’ I want you for eternity, and then some.”  

… 

You couldn’t remember how either of you got out of the rest of your clothes and into the shower, but the cascade of warm water against your back has you melting. Your hand remains intertwined in Jake's hair, gives a slight tug, and has Jake falling into the water with you. Your lips never separate, as you relinquish all control over to Jake, and the dip of his tongue into your mouth has your toes curling.  

Jake’s hands slowly wander, no longer held by the confines of your clothing, and adamant about familiarizing himself with every part of you. The ghost of his fingertips sliding up between your thighs, has a gasp falling from your lips. The sound is devoured by Jake’s lips, as he grazes your heat, teasingly tracing and collecting your slick. Before he finds purchase on your clit and rolls the nub in gentle figure eights.  

Your head falls back against the tile, disconnecting your lips as the pleasure consumes you, and you find a smirking Jake watching you. Words try and form on your lips, though the increase of speed, only has incoherent mumbles bubbling from your chest. Your body tenses against the wall, the extension of your toes has you rising, and Jake settles an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.  

You hadn’t been intimate with anyone since Adam, and as you watch Jake, you’re thankful that you finally coming apart is at his hands. The green of his eye’s never wavering from your own, as your breathing becomes erratic and the one hand around your waist rises to crease your cheek.  

“I’ve got you, Sweets. Let go.”  

You hadn’t realized you needed it, but the reassurance from Jake has you crashing into the waves. A gasp and partial cry leave your chest and has you grasping onto Jake. Your hands shake as you grasp onto his shoulders, the hand that had been between your legs wraps around you and tugs you fully into his chest.  

Your tears mix with the water as it washes over the both of you, and Jake's hold tightens on you as he feels your chest shake against his own. You can’t get close enough to him, and as you nuzzle into Jake’s neck, he notices your slight whimpers. His hands slip from your waist and tap lightly at your butt, a silent request that you happily comply with.  

Your arms wrap tightly around Jake's neck, as he holds you as if you weigh nothing, before turning the shower off. You pull back from the comfort of his neck and receive a sweet gentle kiss, your lips crease each other and work in slow tandem.  

Pulling back from the kiss, you giggle slightly as Jake peppers kisses across your cheeks and nose. He only stops when a full laugh falls from your chest and you beg him to stop. The cheeky smirk that he gives you warms your heart, and you decide that it’s one of your favorite looks on Jake.  

Jake easily removes you both from the shower, never faltering as he heads back into your room and delicately sets you on the bed. He moves to grab you a towel, though you don’t miss the fact that he is excruciatingly hard. The fact isn’t hidden well when Jake shows up with a towel now around his waist and wraps another around you.  

Your hand creeps up to rest at the top of Jake's towel and give it a tug, as his form stands over you, while you kneel on your bed. A light chuckle bubbles from Jake, and his free hand comes to cup your cheek, lovingly tracing tiny patterns.  

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, Sweets. Right now, I just want to hold my girl.”  

You nuzzle into his hands and place a kiss in the palm, before glancing back up and only finding love in Jake’s eyes.  

“Thank you.”  

No reply is given to you, other than a soft kiss and Jake crawling into your bed, pulling you up with him to lay against his chest. His arms wrap around you, and the warmth of his body relaxes you, like an invisible shield of protection.  

“Sleep darlin', I’m home.”  

 For the first time in eight months, you slept peacefully through the night; nightmares and memories evading you completely.  

#jake seresin x you #better man universe #better man updates #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin angst #hangman x reader #hangman top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #top gun imagine

[writefightandflightclub]

“Yes man” (Cecil Dennis {fuck me, how did I get here} x fem!reader)

Summary: Blurby McBlurbFace. Mainly chat, slight fluff, smut, pining / friends to lovers vibes.

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Warnings: alcohol consumption; drug use mentions (weed); smoking; dumbification of Cecil, I guess. Mommy kink if you squint. Public erections / handjob sorta, premature ejaculation / cum in pants. Mentions of dead fish but no fish were harmed. Actually, a surprising number of animal metaphors. Oops. Rimming I’m sorry that one snuck in very last minute Omg.

A/n: having a shitty mental health day (boo) and this Cecil blurb (whilst not my best) is my self-care ☺️ I don’t remember his character well aside from wet bloody cat boy, but I’m damn sure not rewatching that again so this will have to do 😅. Feedback appreciated! 🧡 (Is the rimming too much? 🙈) Not proofed and I’m almost positive autocorrect will have screwed me over.

Also totally inspired by @my-secret-shame’s meme and @foxilayde’s amazing blurb. I will not pretend to have had an original idea! 🧡

“Come onnnn, Cecil,” you whine, poking him in his soft belly with your index finger. He giggles lightly, almost like a hiccough. “It’s always me coming up with the ideas. What do you wanna do next?”

He turns his head as though in slow motion. Moves as if he’s underwater, this one - at least when he’s got food and several beers in him (which is most of the time). He looks up. Blinks at you; dumbly. “What do you mean?”

Eh. You’d really thought your statement had been quite clear.

You resist the urge to pinch his cheek and tell him It’s a good job you’re pretty.

“I mean, that I suggest things, and you go along with them.”

He blinks again. It’s like everything is just a little slower in Cecil’s world. Takes a little longer to filter through. It’s refreshing, in a way. He’s in no rush, and it encourages you to slow down too. To smell the roses.

Cecil is beyond easy-going, come to think of it. Goes with the flow like a dead fish. You’re pretty sure, in fact, that he’d go along with just about anything. With just about anybody’s hare-brained schemes, without once thinking through a single one of the potential consequences.

Scratch that - he probably already has done just that; which would explain a lot of the trouble he’s routinely gotten himself into since you’ve known him.

Though, you suppose, in a way that’s refreshing too. You always did worry too much.

Besides, he always seems to muddle through, somehow. Though quite how has you stumped. It’s hardly due to his charm or his smarts, now, is it? Even so, despite whatever attributes he is lacking in, you can’t deny that he must be doing something right. Trouble simply seems to slide right off the man’s back. Like water off a… well. A dead fish, you guess. What a versatile metaphor.

He blinks at you again. Maybe those big pretty cow eyes help, just a teency bit, to get him out of trouble, you would wager.

Look at him though. You’ve never seen anyone more relaxed. Practically horizontal as he’s hunkered down in the booth, seated next to you in the corner of your usual dive bar. Maybe there’s something to be said for all the pot and seedy hotel room fucks he indulges in. You bet his shoulders are inordinately loose. Maybe he really does have it all figured out, despite appearances.

As you ponder this, Cecil -eventually- makes a non-committal noise, before his bloodshot, glassy eyes flick back to the TV hung up on the wall. He is barely even watching it. Just letting it happen to him, like he does with most everything else.

That’s probably why you’ve never fucked him, you realise, like a bolt out of the blue. He’s pretty, sure. But you wouldn’t.

You don’t mind control - that’s not it. You don’t mind taking charge. But with Cecil? You think he’d take it lying down - a little too literally. If you’d ever suggested you and he fool around, you’d never know for sure. Never know if it really was his idea - a thought or desire he’d ever had before - or if he was simply far too agreeable and opportunistic to decline. So agreeable, that he’d let you ease your vagina up and down on his cock until you came on him. You were intrigued by the thought, sure. But you refused to go there simply because Cecil couldn’t come up with anything better to do.

You look at him, and immediately bat that thought - the vagina all over cock one - away though, as you regard his complete lack of gumption. It’s tangible. Look at him now, for example. He’d seemed to like the way the air from his non-committal noise had filtered over the neck of his bottle, tucked under his folded chin. Indeed, he is now pursing his full, curvy lips, and blowing over the mouth of it until a soft series of “hoots” fill your booth.

You fold your arms and sigh.

You reckon that will amuse him for the next ten minutes at least, so clearly, once again, Cecil’s not the one coming up with a plan for the remainder of this evening.

It’s not that you ever really have to do anything with Cecil to have a good time. It’s just that, tonight, you’re antsy, and it’s making your thoughts wander in directions. Down below his zipper directions, so help you.

“Beer’s empty,” Cecil states flatly, finally noticing after sucking on the bottle for a mo, poking his wet pink tongue around the rim like the little wet cat boy he is. Cute though. Does things to you.

Anyway. You register his statement, but you observe that no action follows. He doesn’t look at all like he plans to do a damn thing about it.

You decide to test your theory, then. Your theory that Cecil’s simply a dead fish swept along in your river. That maybe he doesn’t even want to be here at all. Never did. That you are just another something that happened to happen to him.

“Do you wanna go get Mexican?” you offer, with ulterior motives Cecil is not shrewd enough to pick up on.

His eyes tick back from the captivating, shifting lights of the TV. “Sure,” he smiles softly at you, perfectly content, it seems - and yet, you are less than satisfied.

“See!” You smack the palms of your hands together in triumph, and he jumps. Pushes himself up a little straighter in the seat, his palms disappearing into the worn, lumpy upholstery. “See what I mean?”

He blinks at you blankly. Again.

Clearly not, then?

“You just go along with anything I say. We ate two hours ago, Cecil,” you complain, recalling the all you can eat Chinese buffet you and he had gorged on with two coupons you’d cut out of the newspaper. You drop your hands to your lap, dejectedly. You’re getting agitated with him, which surprises you, in truth. And still… there Cecil is. Unflappable. Calm. Constant. There are pros to his cons, for sure. “I just… I never know if you actually like what we’re doing, you know?”

“But. You always suggest things I like. So why would I say no?” He shrugs a little. “Tacos are good. I like tacos. I like…” he hoots into his bottle again as he says the word. “You-ooooooh.”

You hate to admit it, but his answer has you stumped for a moment. Cecil’s statements may generally be simple. Uncomplicated. But they can be oddly profound at times.

Christ. Maybe… Does the man actually have a valid point? Or, perhaps you’re looking too hard for meaning in his words - it’s possible. You feel like you’ve spent a lot of time lately looking hard at Cecil, perhaps to justify your bizarre and inexplicable feelings.

Possibly you’re even projecting. His seeming lack of independent willpower would certainly make that easy enough to do.

Maybe the man has a point though. Maybe he’s not as “easy-going” as you think he is. Maybe you’re just coincidentally so attuned to his desires that he’s never had cause to deny you. Maybe you are aligned with his desires. One and the same. “What if I asked you to do something you didn’t like, then?”

You slurp up the dregs of melted ice through your straw and Cecil blinks again as though it’s taking all of his processing power. Damn, though. You’re surprised that the fanning of those endlessly long cow lashes didn’t cause the curtains behind you to billow in the breeze they threw up. “Like what?”

You shake your head. Touch his arm to placate him. “Never mind, Cecil.” Christ. If he can’t even think of a single Thing He Wouldn’t Like, maybe you can safely stick to your dead fish hypothesis. It’s all the same to him. Just happening to him. He’s not choosing you.

That particular thought, when it arrives, niggles you more than expected, but you quash the growing agitation which rides in alongside it.

Meanwhile, Cecil looks around, quite visibly thinking. “I wouldn’t get up outta this seat,” he states adamantly, his voice croaked from all the blunts he’s worked through today. “I wouldn’t like that.”

You believe him. He’s practically sliding down to become a puddle on the floor. Dissolving into the bar furniture; becoming one with the upholstery.

Your lips curl up into a tender smile, remembering one particularly ridiculous night at Cecil’s. The night involving a 3am bong sesh, culminating in him genuinely believing he had merged with the couch, becoming a half-human half-upholstery monstrosity. He had waved the two huge, puffy couch cushions around as though they were his arms, and he’d grabbed you up in the middle of them like a grilled cheese, sandwiching you and taking you down to the floor where the two of you had rolled and laughed until you’d cried.

When the laughter had subsided to only the odd titter here and there, and you had lain on his disgusting rug almost nose to nose? That’s the first time you’d wanted to kiss him, and it turned out not to have been the last.

Fuck. You are rather fond of this idiot, aren’t you? How the fuck did that happen?

Engaged fully now though - slightly more lucid than your fond memory- Cecil sits up. Still slouched but this time over the table, his forearms bracing him against the surface. As he moves, you get a waft of his layered, stale cigarette smell. It’s… confusing, in its appeal. Should be off-putting, but you find, in fact, that it’s a comfort.

“No? You don’t wanna?”

With a rush of affection you link your arm through Cecil’s, and he slumps his head on to your shoulder as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You weren’t ready for the way his knotted curls brush your cheek, and it inspires a similarly dense and tangled knot to form in your middle.

“No.” It’s the most sure you’ve ever heard him sound. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“A minute ago we were going for Mexican food, Cecil.” There’s a beat. “That kinda involves movement, you realise?

He swivels his head towards you then, gaze all doe-eyed and pathetic, and the proximity of him parroting on your shoulder knocks you for six. “You mad at me or something, Hottie from Walmart?”

You snort. He doesn’t always pull out that nickname for you - how you’d been known to him before you had been known to him - but it always makes you sentimental when he does.

He shifts from you then, tilting his body towards you. Scrutinising you with apprehension in his sweet face.

Fuck him actually, and fuck his pouty beautiful kissable lips most of all.

You sigh, and you deliberately soften your face. He’s easy-going, sure, but he’s sensitive. Trouble slides off of his back, but other things… other things don’t slip off quite so well, and he often gets like this. Like he’s done something wrong, when he hasn’t.

You actively resist the urge to coddle him. To tenderly rake his somewhat grimy but beautiful curls off of his forehead.

You hardly want to examine the fact he brings out your… motherly instincts; but it doesn’t escape your attention that he always seems like he’s craving just a little nurturing. You want to take your thumb and smooth out the creases in his troubled brow.

“No, Cecil. I’m not mad at you. I’d tell you if I was and we’d talk about it.”

He nods.

You’re not mad at him. Really. And so, you take pause to wonder why this happy-go-lucky trait of his is particularly irking you today. “It’s mostly a good thing, I promise.”

“It is?”

“Yeah.”

He looks pleased for a minute and then: “Wait. What’s a good thing?”

You want to kiss his stupid mouth until he can’t think. Which you don’t think would take long at all, actually.

“That…” You think about how to phrase it, and it quickly occurs to you. “That. You’re my ‘yes man’.” He is expressionless for a moment, and you wait for comprehension to slowly crawl over him. “I mean, Cecil,” you take his clammy hand in yours. “That it’s always fun with you. I mean that you never shoot down my ideas. Even when you probably should.”

His face splits with a brief - goofy, but wholly endearing - smile. “You have fun with me?”

His big cow eyes go all soft and wet.

Oh boy. This idiot. If you didn’t have fun with him, even just sitting on his grotty couch, what other reason could you possibly have to hang out with him, huh?

You open your mouth to say as much before thinking better of it, but for once Cecil beats you to it.

“I have fun with you too, Hottie.”

It’s another one of those moments of levity that you’ve experienced surprisingly often with Cecil. One of those moments where everything feels a just little more profound. A little more magical. Sometimes, Cecil gets you in the gut just a little harder than expected.

Great. And now you’re thinking of Cecil all up in your guts.

“I should think so - I’m awesome. But, right now? All I’m saying is…” You tap your noggin. “Tank empty. No ideas. It’s your turn to decide what we do tonight? Okay?”

You search his eyes. His big, beautiful, sincere and secretless eyes. You silently ask the true question you want to ask him. I want to know what you want.

You’re not yet ready to admit the questions buried right beneath that one: do you want me back? Could you? Would you, Cecil?

“Yeah?” Cecil responds, unsure, and you immediately worry that you have, in fact, given him too much responsibility. His expression compresses in a frown of deep, deep concentration. Like he’s really wrestling with this.

You watch with bated breath, dying to see what he comes up with - if anything at all.

And then - aha - he finally has it.

“I could jerk off.”

“Wha-?” You playfully bat him in the arm, aghast. “Cecil!!”

“What?” A surprised, contrite laugh bobs in his throat.

“I mean.” You swallow. “How is that an idea for both of us?”

Oh that’s your problem with his idea?

That it’s not participatory enough?

“You could help.”

Your jaw drops open. “Cecil! I’m not gonna-” you switch to a loud whisper “-jerk you off!”

He blinks again, his eyes glinting with a gentle - ever so gentle - flicker of amusement. “You’re not a yes man,” he complains softly, his curly lips sneaking up into a curly smile. “Always shooting down my ideas.”

He bats his lashes at you and oh boy - even Cecil must be starting to figure out that you’re a sucker for those big, pretty brown eyes. Your one true weakness.

“That’s really what you want?” you ask, trying to keep things light. To keep your tone jokey and jovial, like always, despite the rising tremor in your voice. “It would involve getting up, you realise?”

He winks at you - a gesture which seems entirely unlike him and yet somehow works - and smirks down at his crotch. “Already am.”

“If you’re really so uncontrollably horny, why don’t you get someone else around here to help you, huh?” Your heart skips a beat. “Why me?”

He’s looking at you like he wants you but… he’s an opportunistic guy. Goes with the flow. That’s how things come to him; he’ll take his cigarettes and beers and fucks wherever and whenever he can get them.

He unceremoniously pulls out a rolled blunt and lights it up, the filter end pressed between his plush pink lips.

“No.” It bobs as he talks and he takes little, peppered drags to get the burn going.

“No?”

You blink at him dumbly now.

“No. I only want you.”

Correction. That’s the most sure of anything you’ve ever heard him.

He slips forward, exhaling his smoke into your mouth as his lips caress yours. “Come on,” he encourages. “Get going. Before my penis turns into a couch cushion.”

He kisses your laugh, and as his tongue slides hungrily against yours suddenly it isn’t quite so funny. Suddenly, you feel like maybe Cecil has the best ideas.

“Right here?” You reach down, and you smooth your palm over the clothed bulge at his crotch. “In the booth?”

“I’m already barred. Heh. What are they gonna do?”

You smile at him, licking your lips as Cecil bucks up into your hand, his head lolling back against the lip of his seat, and his pretty eyes fluttering closed.

He groans, as your fingers snake to tease open the button at his fly.

“Oops,” Cecil whispers contritely, almost immediately, his cheeks and his ears darkening with a deep crimson flush as he looks over to you. “I just… I…”

Oh God. He just came in his pants, didn’t he? Oh Lord that makes you inexplicably hot.

His big, pretty eyes are wet with apology. “Are you mad?”

“No, Cecil.” Poor baby. “I just think I should take you home and get you cleaned up, hmm?” You next words all run into one, as you struggle to get your new genius plan out of your mouth. “Mayberimyoualittlewhatdoyousay?”

Did you actually just suggest that you take him home to rim him? Good Lord.

He blinks rapidly, the colour in his cheeks flowering more, like a beautiful rose unfurling. “Y-Yes. I say yes.”

It’s a hare-brained plan, for sure, but you decide that for once,

you might as well just…

go with the flow.

It certainly works for Cecil.

#I bet I cave and watch it again #cecil dennis x reader #cecil dennis #Oscar Isaac

[yallemagne]

Luthur (Lucy/Arthur) Propaganda

I'm writing this with all the pent-up rage of an entire year of seeing "Lucy's so dumb, she should have picked my favourite suitor" posts and "who should Lucy have chosen?" polls that always result in practically no votes for Arthur.

This is not an anti-Jack or anti-Quincey post by any means, though it may come across as defensive. It is just a pro-let-Lucy-choose-for-herself post. And yes, letting her choose for herself even includes letting her be monogamous when she has made the conscious decision to remain monogamous.

So, to the proposal descriptions--

Seward tries to hide his anxiety by putting up a front of sternness. From how Lucy describes it, it sounds like he's negotiating a contract:

He spoke to me, Mina, very straightforwardly. He told me how dear I was to him, though he had known me so little, and what his life would be with me to help and cheer him. He was going to tell me how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but when he saw me cry he said that he was a brute and would not add to my present trouble. Then he broke off and asked if I could love him in time; and when I shook my head his hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me if I cared already for any one else. He put it very nicely, saying that he did not want to wring my confidence from me, but only to know, because if a woman's heart was free a man might have hope. And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one. I only told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.

Sounds like he hardly popped the question so much as stated: "I would be honoured to have you (I need you I need you I need you I need you) as my wife. If you don't love me back, I will die."

This proposal comes across as very neurodivergent to me. He goes into it thinking mostly about what he wants from Lucy and how good the marriage would be for his mental health, not stopping to consider if she's already seeing someone (literally the man who introduced them) or just maybe... that he's putting too much of a burden on her with this style of proposal. This approach would work better with another no-nonsense B, but Lucy is overwhelmed. He didn't think of her feelings in the matter because he was too busy schooling his own emotions so he wouldn't screw it all up. It comes across as very scripted until he sees that he's upset Lucy-- that is when we get a glimpse of his care for her. But then he's back to his bullet points of "but could you love me one day? do you love another now? on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate this interaction?"

Lucy gets through Seward's entire proposal without getting carried away and writing about Arthur instead, but with Quincey--

I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him. I know now what I would do if I were a man and wanted to make a girl love me. No, I don't, for there was Mr. Morris telling us his stories, and Arthur never told any, and yet—— My dear, I am somewhat previous.

She certainly finds Quincey charming, but she cuts herself off to talk about Arthur. While she momentarily thinks that telling adventurous tales would win a woman's heart, she says that it didn't win her own. There's a sort of peacocking going on with Quincey prefacing his proposal with tales of his adventures. It's very much like Seward's stoic attempt but with far more confidence and pizzazz.

Mr. Quincey P. Morris found me alone. It seems that a man always does find a girl alone. No, he doesn't, for Arthur tried twice to make a chance, and I helping him all I could; I am not ashamed to say it now. 

Quincey "found [her] alone". Now, before, she said "Mr. Morris was telling us his stories"-- who is us? I am guessing that perhaps Lucy's mother or someone else was sitting in as a chaperone? And then Quincey found an opportunity to talk to her in private?

Again, she drifts off talking about Arthur while she's trying to explain Quincey. "Arthur tried twice to make a chance"-- my best guess for what this means is that Arthur has tried to have un-chaperoned time with Lucy twice before in order to propose to her, but he never succeeded despite her attempts to aid him.

Which makes this all so much funnier? Some joke that the Suitors probably arranged it all, but this hints that Arthur has been trying his damndest to propose, but the one day he actually gets a chance to, he finds out his two friends proposed to her first! Those dogs!!

I do not know myself if I shall ever speak slang; I do not know if Arthur likes it, as I have never heard him use any as yet.

Lucy interrupts her "haha the silly American talks silly American gibberish" with "would Arthur like it if I spoke this way?" Gah, she's so in love with him. It's funny that she says she's never heard him use slang considering she's already mentioned "Dress is a bore." which she even called slang.

Well, he did look so good-humoured and so jolly that it didn't seem half so hard to refuse him as it did poor Dr. Seward; so I said, as lightly as I could, that I did not know anything of hitching, and that I wasn't broken to harness at all yet. Then he said that he had spoken in a light manner, and he hoped that if he had made a mistake in doing so on so grave, so momentous, an occasion for him, I would forgive him. [...] And then, my dear, before I could say a word he began pouring out a perfect torrent of love-making, laying his very heart and soul at my feet. He looked so earnest over it that I shall never again think that a man must be playful always, and never earnest, because he is merry at times. I suppose he saw something in my face which checked him, for he suddenly stopped, and said with a sort of manly fervour that I could have loved him for if I had been free...

She remarks that Quincey's more light-hearted nature makes him easier to refuse than Seward. However, she finds it harder to reject him when he drops the act and starts behaving more earnestly. She finds it easier to imagine loving him when he's being sincere. She doesn't have this same thought with Seward because, unfortunately, even when he snapped out of his legal negotiation of the potential marriage, he still kept himself emotionally guarded through the rest of the interaction.

Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble? But this is heresy, and I must not say it.

I must say... Lucy here is not saying "I want a harem of men.". Stop. Just stop saying that she is. That interpretation has led to every single adaptation that brands her an insincere cheater who strings along men and deserves to be punished by the narrative. Just stop. What she is expressing here is guilt at not having an option that would please all parties involved. She's been raised as a people-pleaser, but in this scenario, there is no choice she could make that wouldn't lead to someone being hurt. So, she makes the decision to follow her heart rather than her guilty conscience.

And think, just earlier, Jack planted this seed of insecurity by saying that he'll be upset if she does not love him. And then goes even further to imply her loving another robs him of his hope. It makes it so that, even when Quincey is more gracious in accepting her refusal, she can't help but beat herself up for practically destroying these men's lives (hyperbole, of course) all for her own happiness!!

Lucy clearly displays polyamorous traits. She laments that, if she did not love Arthur so much, she could love Quincey (rip Seward). But she has chosen not to explore those feelings. Part of her cutting herself off while writing about Quincey to talk about Arthur could be subconsciously reminding herself: "nope, there is no chance with him, I want Arthur". She compares the two constantly as if to remind herself she made the right choice. There's also her love for Mina, but she has plausible deniability in this era and can claim that as just classic girl love.

But when she considers a woman marrying "as many men as want her" it is not reflective of her being polyamorous because she doesn't have this thought out of "I love these three men enough to marry them" but "I feel guilty about being loved by three men at once, and I have to repay the favour somehow, but I can't". She does not say "as many men as she wants" because it's not about the woman's feelings but about the feelings of the men that surround her. But you know what? She showed agency when she picked the man she wanted and didn't bow and pick the man who would be the most devastated upon being rejected, and I'm proud of her.

Lucy is incredibly brief when describing Arthur's proposal, but let's. just. think about this. Previously, she has tried to hold back her overwhelming love for Arthur in her writing to Mina (she failed, lol). Other than wanting to be discreet, she explains:

My dear, this quite upset me, and I feel I cannot write of happiness just at once, after telling you of it; and I don't wish to tell of the number three until it can be all happy.

She doesn't want to taint her happy feelings with bitterness about how "oh, I'm so horrible and selfish for picking the man I love! I don't deserve to be loved by anyone!" And even then, she goes into a bit more detail in her post-script:

P.S.—Oh, about number Three—I needn't tell you of number Three, need I? Besides, it was all so confused; it seemed only a moment from his coming into the room till both his arms were round me, and he was kissing me. I am very, very happy, and I don't know what I have done to deserve it. I must only try in the future to show that I am not ungrateful to God for all His goodness to me in sending to me such a lover, such a husband, and such a friend.

Such a friend. Before this, Seward and Quincey were not friends of Lucy's. They were acquaintances that knew her through Arthur (though she does not explicitly state this about Quincey, so she could have met him somewhere else?), and upon being rejected romantically, they swore friendship to her. Before then, they saw her as a potential bride.

But Arthur was already a friend to Lucy. They have been close for longer than she's known either of her other suitors, and while they'd never said the L-word (love) to each other before, I think what wins Lucy's heart is that Arthur is genuine with her. We don't get to see it (she teases us!! how dare!!), but that feels like the most plausible thing that would set him apart from Seward and Quincey. Now, the other two are honest men (we see it when they comfort her), but they both initially put up a front to impress/entertain Lucy. Meanwhile, Arthur doesn't bother with that. He comes into the room, and she's practically already in his arms! It's so effortless with him. She doesn't have to imagine herself being happy and in love with him because she already is.

#dracula #dracula daily #re: dracula #lucy westenra #john seward #jack seward #quincey p morris #quincey morris #lucy x arthur #arthur x lucy #luthur #may 24 #wrote this like a few nights ago lol #just had to

[ending-the-cycle-ask]

Hey Mxs.(I think that's what you liked to go by, sorry of not) Mello, I just wanted to ask, you are ok, right? I don't know you too much but you have not gone two months without posting I don't think, not even just personal asks. I assume you are working on the next panels and stuff but I just want to make sure you are still here and ok.

Yes, don’t worry, I’m doing just fine :) August was hectic, as it is every year, and I recently started college! So I’ve been very busy ^^; We have made some good progress on panels recently, though! Sketches are just about done, so I’ll be able to get to lining and coloring once I get some free time. Working on my passion project sounds like a nice break.

College has been a lot of busywork, but I’ve been absolutely thriving :) I’ve always loved learning, and being in school again has been so liberating. After being pretty much stuck at home for 3 years, due to the current state of the world screwing me over, (thanks 2020,) then mental health issues on top of that, (namely depression,) it’s just. So nice to be up and about again. I honestly think the only reason I’ve survived these past 3 excruciating years has been because of this comic, and you, the wonderful community, who found worth in me and this silly ask blog I made to tide over my boredom. So thank you, sincerely. I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us!

-Mod Mello 💕

#askmodmello #etc etcetera #ask #askblog #ending the cycle #life updates