#that was a one-week special from the depths of my depressed brain

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - Holiday Special

Happy holidays, my friends! I know a lot of us spend the holidays with more free time than normal, and I thought I’d put together a list of very long fic for you to indulge in during your down time--enjoy and be sure to give your author a comment/kudos if you enjoy it! 

~ 

[Podfic of] When The Lights Go On Again by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid, kalakirya, KD reads (KDHeart), lattice_frames, lavenderfrost, miss_marina95, Opalsong, paraka, Superstitiousme, vassalady

Aliens have invaded earth, and the Avengers are scattered. While Steve leads the resistance, Tony once again finds himself playing captive scientist. In the midst of a violent alien regime, separated by seemingly insurmountable boundaries, Steve and Tony have nothing to keep themselves going but each other.

Note: This was 19hours of FANTASTIC story--highly recommend it if you’ve got a long drive or time off. 

One-Man Army by Captain_Panda

Takes place immediately after the Chitauri attack in Avengers 1.

Steve is running himself into the ground. Tony notices.

Then Steve gets knocked down hard. And Tony intervenes.

Note: I’ve rec’ed this before. It’s delightfully long and nearly perfect--there’s very little downtime in the way of weakness with the pacing and writing, which is a feat in and of itself at over 600k. 

America Isn't Chicken by Amuly 

After a Civil War, death, rebirth, a takeover by Osborn, brain deletion, and the fall of Asgard, Steve and Tony might just be starting to get back on solid ground with one another. Things aren't perfect, not yet, but they can be in the same room as each other without resorting to violence, and they've even managed to share a smile or two.

Seems like the perfect time, then, for Tony to try and fuck it all up with a stupid game of gay chicken.

Meanwhile, as if he didn't have enough to worry about, Tony realizes some kind of supervillainous trouble is brewing when increasingly advanced armors start popping up all over Manhattan, looking strangely reminiscent of his tech. On the other side of the world, Steve gets news that Zola is on the move in Russia, with some sort of nefarious plan at work.

Which will ruin them first? Will it be this unknown armored villain who is after Tony's tech? Or will it be Zola unleashing his mysterious plan on the world? Or will Steve and Tony prove to be their own worst enemies, destroying the tentative truce they managed to forge with their own stubbornness?

Note: Just really delightful 616 fic. It’s a comfort read, tbh. 

Data is King by Amuly

In a cyberpunk dystopia, all the wealth is concentrated in New Versailles and the majority live in impoverished ghettos outside. Prosthetics are strictly prohibited, though many of the poor have body modifications to help them live. Steve Rogers is an idealistic young man who raids the storerooms of New Versailles with his best friend Bucky Barnes, to bring food and medicine to the poor. But when tragedy strikes, Steve is inspired by Dr. Erskine to go seek out the notorious slumlord/black market trader Tony Stark. Rumor has it that Tony used to be a member of New Versailles, but left to make his fortune off the backs of the working man... or was he kicked out? Although they don't hit it off at first, Steve and Tony must work together.

They have some help. The Three Fates are women who control information. Steve's friends from his old life are good people on the fringes of society because of their prosthetic enhancements. And there's Tony's network of resources and connections, not to mention his brilliant engineering mind that helped him build his empire.

But when Steve and Tony finally manage to put their differences aside and rise up against New Versailles... not everything is as simple as it seemed.

Note: So I haven’t actually read this one--but it’s on my list for the week I’m off so I’m sharing it with ya’ll now. 

Maybe Tomorrow by scifigrl47

Tony Stark may well be the richest man in America. In the depths of the Great Depression, that's no small claim. When a plot is hatched for him to take in an orphan for a week, everyone knows it's a publicity stunt. No one knows it better than Officer Steve Rogers, but he's got a job to do, and he's going to do it. Doesn't mean he's going to approve.

Yes, it's an Annie AU.

Yes. That Annie.

Note: I’m a huge fan of scifigrl47 and this fic is all of the reasons why--excellent storytelling, relationships and kids interacting and Stevetony being amazing. 

Forty-Seven Flat by geekymoviemom

Steve Rogers was on the top of the world. He was one of the top students in his class, a world-class athlete, and had a man who loved him. Winning an Olympic Gold Medal seemed like the perfect addition to his picture-perfect life.

But only four years later, Steve’s entire world has come crashing down around him, leaving defending his Olympic title the only thing lying between him and utter ruin.

And then, the unthinkable happens.

Note: I really love sports AU, and this one was just a lot of fun. 

Celestial Navigation by sabrecmc 

Celestial Navigation: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.

By request, here is CN in one place without other stories and artwork.

Note: I love this fic. It’s probably one of my top 10 fav stevetony fics, because it’s just so good. The slow burn and Steve’s slow devotion is just--so lovely. 

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep by Mizzy

Years after Tony Stark saved the universe, the Avengers realize there’s a major problem: his body has gone missing. And he isn’t the only one. Fallen heroes all over the galaxy have had their graves pillaged.

An old foe is stealing the bodies of fallen warriors, but for what nefarious reason? There’s only one solution. To find out why it’s happening, Steve’s gotta die.

He probably shouldn’t be so eager to do that.

Note: I really love the set up of this fic, the way it leans into canon MCU and still gives us Stevetony. Also--worms. 

Deep in the Heart of Me by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

Veteran single dad Steve runs a tattoo shop. Pepper arranges for Tony to get that tattoo he always wanted, and he winds up with the mother of all crushes instead. Jumping out of airplanes is one thing, but love requires real courage. Steve struggles with letting someone into his life. Tony tries to keep his heart intact while Steve works on his issues.

Craving a realistic depiction of a romantic relationship featuring PTSD, mental health issues, and characters who discuss their problems? This might be for you. No magic fixes here but a happy ending is guaranteed!

Note: I love this fic because it’s so realistic--the way Steve protects Peter from his new relationship is the most realistic depiction of good parenting I’ve ever seen in fic, and I ADORE it. Tony’s patience and hurt and sweetness is everything to me. 

A Higher Form of War by sabrecmc 

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

Basically one of those bodice-ripping romance novels I don't read (ahem) but with far more gay.

Note: It’s amazing. It’s slow and beautiful and I love Steve so much I can’t even. 

#stevetony weekly #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #stony #iron man #captain america #stevetony fic #stony fic #fic rec

[90363462]

Getty Images

7 Mothers Share Their Postpartum Sex Experiences

Spoiler alert: It's not all bad.

Kiarra Sylvester

May. 02, 2022 05:05PM EST

Because I’m not having sex, I haven’t given much thought to how sex after I deliver my little seed will be. Out of sight, out of mind, ya know? It wasn't until a friend randomly reached out to me, more excited for the postpartum sex that stood ahead of me than I knew to be possible. I was curious, to say the least. Where was this burst of energy for my postpartum sex life coming from? Apparently, she had just had mind-blowing sex with her man but this wasn’t the first time she mentioned this – she had once shared the exhilaration she felt during sex in a normal girl chat. But I wasn’t pregnant then so I hadn’t thought much of it. 

However, this time around, my brain was most definitely activated. The one thing that stood out to me was the pleasure she seemed to derive from her postpartum sex life! Mostly, because this had been so unheard of. Perhaps it’s because I didn’t care to speak to my mother in-depth prior to my own little seed being implanted in me. Nevertheless, I had only ever heard of negative postpartum sex experiences. Women went from being the top-flight security, maintaining the secrecy of the motherhood journey, not speaking of anything but the joy of baby and baby alone to now, where we’ve seen a shift in women trying to sprinkle some realness in the mix – warning us of the potential woes of motherhood. 

I mention this because motherhood has become saturated with changing the narrative to a more realistic one and, in turn, it can induce more fear than not knowing. It seems once we were released from the shackles of silence, it turned out that everyone was experiencing ass tears and postpartum depression, and if you’re a Black woman, you might not even live to tell about any of those experiences. 

Giphy

I guess what I’m saying was it was refreshing to have someone share a positive about giving birth to a child – one that I most definitely value and one that skews the narrative to remind us that in all actuality: every experience is different! And in us trying to make up for the myths of motherhood being all peachy keen, we’ve forgotten what balance looks like – going from sunshine and roses to hellfire and misery.

As far as the sex component goes, we have truly only ever heard the bottom of the barrel! Men talking about how "loose" women allegedly are after having a child and TikTok highlighting the potential for what is known as a husband stitch, which ensures you go back to maximum tightness after tearing. (Also, unethical to perform without patient permission apparently). 

Nevertheless, it made me curious to speak with other women about their postpartum sex experience and I was happy to find that there were more women out there who were experiencing good sex, and for various reasons! Here’s what 8 women had to say about postpartum sex.

Sex was different... in the best way possible.

"I have to say I didn't have the confidence or drive to have sex immediately after a vaginal birth (both times). But [around four to six] weeks after, sex for me was way better than before having a baby. It felt more intimate, more connected, and somewhat special to be having sex so soon after having a baby. Not many women talk about this, do they? But I don't think it's a big secret personally. Every woman has a different experience, and for me, it was good." 

– Sophie

i.gifer.com

I'm more in tune with my body more than I've ever been.

“I'm a mom of two with my youngest being four months old. My postpartum sex experience has been amazing. I opted for a natural birth with a midwife and doula as a result my recovery was really quick. Since giving birth I've been really in tune with my body and been wowed at what a woman's body is able to do. I wouldn't describe myself as a very sexual person but since giving birth, my desire to have sex and my natural lubrication has increased tremendously.

"I've also been taking ashwagandha and maca root to support my breastfeeding journey. An added benefit [of taking them] was increased libido [and] not just around the ovulation period. My husband is very happy, to say the least.”

– Jasmine

Sex after delivery helped with my PPD.

“I have two young children under the age of eight years old and I could certainly say right away that postpartum sex is by far much much better than sex prior to having children for several reasons. Not only has perhaps my confidence elevated, but most importantly, it’s also much less tricky in terms of stimulation. In addition, it is much easier to switch positions and perform the act as there is rarely if ever any discomfort due to that tightness perhaps felt in the beginning. Sex after delivery was also very beneficial as I suffered from PPD for a couple of months after my first delivery. Sex in a way was perhaps a reward for that after waiting six weeks after giving birth.”

– Vanessa

media2.giphy.com

It was the last piece of intimacy we had been missing.

"I had a C-section so I was told to wait at least six weeks before having sex. I feel like the wait time just added to the anticipation and excitement. The postpartum period is obviously crazy with a newborn and the lack of sleep for the first month or so (sex was the last thing on my mind). However, as the weeks went on and we spent time in our own little bubble with this perfect little person we created, the feelings started creeping up again. I feel like you just fall deeper in love when you see your man taking care of and loving your tiny human. It's next-level sexy! I couldn't wait to show him just how much. We were literally counting down the days until the mandatory six weeks were up. 

"All that waiting makes it almost as exciting as the first time again. We went all out and set up a special date night with dinner, wine, and new lingerie, the works! In one word: fireworks! It was perfect! It was that one piece of intimacy we had been missing and we held on to each other long after it was over. I think it's important to talk to your partner and make sure you're both on the same page. I expressed my concerns about possible pain (and hormones and dealing with this new postpartum body that I wasn't used to) so we took things slow and he checked with me throughout to make sure I was okay. All in all, it was a wonderful experience that actually made me feel sexy again.” 

– Cendu

media3.giphy.com

Antidepressants I take for my hormonal-induced depression impacted my sex drive.

“I get so fricking excited when someone asks about postpartum women. It was a period of my life that was insanely difficult and I feel like my overall experience was very different from most women's. I've always had a great sex drive, before, during, and after pregnancy. Then I started taking antidepressants about six weeks after birth and my libido hit rock bottom. Almost four years later and I still haven't gone back to my regular levels, but it's either that or hormonal-induced depression. If you want a little more information, we both enjoy 'doggystyle' since I had our children. If I had to guess, it's because of the deeper penetration level.” 

– Bethany

Amazing sex wasn't in the cards for me for several months after giving birth.

“I felt well prepared for the months following my baby's birth. After all, I had been a mother-baby nurse for years. When my OBGYN looked at me and said, ‘Rachel, six weeks is not a magic number. You probably aren't going to feel like your pre-pregnant self when having sex,’ she did me a huge favor. Otherwise, I would have felt something was wrong with me. I experienced a second-degree tearwith my baby and it took me several months for the soreness to completely heal. I was shocked the first time I had sex and it was so uncomfortable. Had my doctor not warned me, I would have thought there was something wrong with me. 

"It was six months after giving birth that I was able to experience sex that felt good and didn't hurt my repair. Between the soreness and my breast milk letting down during sex, it was quite the experience. I don't wish to relive those months, but my husband and I can now look back at those times and laugh. Amazing sex was not in the cards for me for several months following childbirth. Women who do not experience a tear, episiotomy, or who have a C-section may well experience great postpartum sex while their progesterone levels are high.” 

– Rachel

Postpartum sex wasn't different for me physically, but it was emotionally.

“I want to start by saying that my daughters are now 17 and 20; both were vaginal births. I think that once the initial trepidation passed — meaning, the 'first-time sex' after the six-week follow-up and the all-clear from my doctor — postpartum sex wasn’t noticeably 'better.' It wasn’t worse, either. If anything, what made it great was knowing I had bounced back and everything was indeed okay. There is a HUGE amount of concern over not just your own desirability as a new mom because your body has changed so much, but you worry that it’ll hurt, or you won’t feel things as you did before. You also worry about what your partner will be thinking, especially if they were in the delivery room. 

"It sounds silly, but that was something I thought about. My husband had seen all manner of things during the delivery (including poop because let’s face it, that’s really common during vaginal births) so as a new mom facing sex again, you struggle with knowing this person saw you at one of the most vulnerable moments imaginable. So naturally, you worry they’re thinking about that the first time you have sex after giving birth… or at least I did. The relief that came after that first time back in the saddle — it was palpable, at least for me. I think, too, that while postpartum sex didn’t feel better physically, it was better emotionally — it was almost like our bond was stronger if that makes sense? That’s what made postpartum sex amazing.” 

– Alison

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[dinobobwhereheshouldntbe]

I kind of miss Brunt, FCA

#sorry! #that was a one-week special from the depths of my depressed brain #that being said.... i could edit bob into more brunt pics

[thespoonisvictory]

Please explain why Schlatt is the best character on the SMP.

(Alternatively, I would be really interested in hearing more about your dislike for Quackity's produced lore. Personally, I love it, so I'm really intrigued whenever someone says that they're not fond of it).

as much as I love schlatt, I think I'll answer the quackity question, because I've been meaning to.

first of all, I think I should clarify that I'm definitely biased, because my favorite streamers, outside of the dsmp universe, tend towards semi lore, or, at least, not whatever quackity's doing. I'm used to it, and people tend to not like change lol.

second of all, I really do like quackity's produced lore, but I don't like certain aspects of it, and find myself preferring semi lore in general. I don't think he should stop doing it so much as I think he should use it as an occasional technique rather than conveying near 100% of his story with it. big q is very talented and I commend him for taking such a bold approach, which I think pays off in some ways.

third, to me, semi lore is any lore that breaks the fourth wall in that it isn't trying to be something other than a minecraft stream, it's all in first person, and none of it is prerecorded. for example: most of wilbur's pogtopia streams are semi (or casual) lore to me, because he'll thank subs and joke with schlatt about getting techno a girlfriend, but it's still largely in canon.

anyway, in true jenny nicholson fashion, let's kick off with a numbered list.

1. this post, by patches, explains a bit of why the lore streams can get a bit disconcerting to me. the dsmp have always had a bit of charming awkwardness in their improv, because these are for the most part just Some Guys acting, and under the guise of a stream where it's just a Streamer Playing Minecraft, it fits. but the highly produced nature just- creates such a disparity between the quality of the cinematography and the acting that it's a little weird, y'know?

2. in some cases, semi lore allows for dread to be built in a unique way. during the exile arc, tommy would have lighthearted streamer jokes and bits, shout out subs, pretend like things were normal. he never acknowledges that his situation is messed up, that his condition is getting worse, that things are falling apart. it's a quiet, sinking, horror that creeps along over the course of weeks. it's important to the viewer that we are there every day to see the slow progress, to understand why tommy gets pushed so far down. besides the impracticality of 14 highly produced lore streams, you would lose a lot of the subtlety there.

the smp is such a unique medium in that the stream style itself is so telling. when tommy actively doesn't acknowledge what's happening, it makes the abuse that's occurring seem so much worse. when wilbur drops little hits about his depression or his plans in between lighthearted, ooc jokes, it lulls the audience into a false sense of security.

imagine a version of the 'forming las nevadas' story where quackity does it over the course of four nights. the slow realization of his manipulation tactics disguised by an unassuming stream format, because it's still quackity, joking around and laughing until he approaches the next person and he shifts into his 'persona'. when he finishes the conversation, we watch his face fall, his smile fade, as he walks back to an empty las nevadas. it would build hype, not to mention taking less work, and letting the audience see a bit more of quackity's humanity.

3. I mentioned it before, but it just straight up takes less time. I'm willing to wait, of course, but there's something to be said about the merits of pacing and being able to throw together a lore stream last minute. take, for example, tommy's death. it wouldn't have been nearly as impactful without the rushed, oddly somber flurry of livestreams that came after. jack didn't need a highly produced montage of him standing by tommy's grave as the seasons passed, of his planting flowers everyday. what turned out to be effective was just- him, walking around, coming to terms with his grief, completely silent for periods of time.

it was mourning. plain and simple, with no embellishment or evil villain music, shockingly earnest.

I don't think you could replicate that raw, undone feeling with a prerecorded, pre-produced, semi-movie. it feels like all of a sudden jack's pov was important enough that he had to stream, and there it was.

you could argue that this could be planned beforehand, but I think more often than not, that's a. not really feasible, and b. going to take away from the organic nature.

we all like candid shots, 'authentic' vlogs and influencers. to me, this is just one more extension of that rule.

4. under the same idea, you can make more. we spend more time with the streamers, and therefore the characters, and get to know their more human side. wilbur, for example, is deeply humanized by little things that you just couldn't really fit into a lore stream: his dynamic with niki, all his little moments of hesitation, his banter with tommy and his true love for l'manburg. who c!wilbur is is built up over hours and hours of comments and suggestions and one-off statements, and we just don't have time for that in quackity's lore. the transitions are snappy, filled with beautiful shots, but they don't allow for as much depth of character as that awkward little walk from place to place, that quiet monologue they do to themselves.

it's not impossible for you to do that, as with c!quackity and c!charlie serving as a 'morality pet', but at this risk of repeating myself endlessly, it's more earnest and organic in a sense.

5. last, I just really like multiple povs. one of my favorite bits from s1 is the fundy spy arc, because of how effectively multiple povs are used. streams where wilbur is deeply, deeply distraught over fundy's betrayal but thinks fundy doesn't care, while fundy is deeply, deeply distraught over wilbur's prior treatment of him but thinks he doesn't care. and you could watch both at the same time! quackity's pov isn't as personal when it uses third person, which is a bit sad because I think it's a unique aspect of livestreaming every perspective.

(I'm so sorry if this isn't coherent or makes any sense I'm very brain dead and tired from speedrunning three essays yesterday)

basically, I think quackity's lore style is good for big, grand events, occasionally. it's very cool to watch, definitely builds hype, and can make certain things easier, such as coordinating a bunch of people or doing special effects.

but for building a plot and establishing character dynamics, I really prefer semi/casual lore.

#asks #dream smp #dsmp analysis #dsmp meta #if this doesn't make sense I can clarify more lmao #also this is barely proof read #I'm so sorry

[acklesterritory]

That Kind of Love Never Dies_Chapter 1

Hey guys, Now that more voted to split my fictions in 2 parts, I'm back with the first part. I hope you like it. Don't forget to leave me feedbacks. I'll always appreciate them. Love you all.

This is for writing event @tvdspngirl314

My quote is "That kind of love never dies"

Dean x Reader series (just 2 parts)

This chapter words: ~5k

Series warning:

Angst, fluf, smut, angry Dean, hurt Reader, hurt Dean, there's some more but I hate spoilers so I insist on "Angst & Hurt"

It all started with a stupid argument at home. What was it? Three months ago? Sam couldn't remember the exact date but after years, it was the first time this awkward coldness between Dean and Y/n had started to build. He could remember the first time he and his brother came across Y/n like it was yesterday, they were hunting a very nasty creature who used to kidnap young and lonely women at night, then got them wrapped in ropes and ties on a bed in a warehouse to rape, torture and feed on their blood until the victim either died or accepted to turn into one of his kind.

Sam could remember the helplessness in people's eyes too. The pain of the victims' families, the frustration and anger on cops' faces when no one could find the criminal yet, even after the sixth missing girl.

"Sammy, he just kidnapped another girl. And I think I know where he's gonna take her. Let's hunt this son of a bitch."

When Dean was saying that, Sam never expected him to fall in love with the woman they would save that night. Well, unfortunately they weren't fast enough to prevent any harm to the girl. When they arrived and Dean killed the nasty creature, Y/n was almost dead. The monster had already raped her, tortured her … and when he felt the hunters enter the place, he drank almost all of her blood, to gain more energy to fight. So as always, Dean was up to blaming himself. Of course only in his own eyes, not anyone else's.

"Call Cas to come home. Tell him it's an emergency."

Dean told his brother when he finally could get Y/n out of those ropes. And Sam knew he was right. At that point, no one could save Y/n unless God or his angels. Maybe she was not so lucky coming across a nasty supernatural creature like that but she was lucky enough that Cas arrived just on time and healed her. However, angels can only heal physical wounds. But Y/n was hurt much more than that. She couldn't just move on from the things that the bastard had put her through. Even after Cas tricked her brain to forget some certain things, she still had bad nightmares and had this dark shade of hopelessness in her eyes. Soon, she started to eat and talk less and less. And Dean just couldn't let her go. He really wanted to fix all of that for her but she kept shutting him out… until the depression hit her. It was so bad that Cas felt the need to tell them to prepare themselves for her death. Because after all those days and unlike everything else in their lives, The Winchesters were already used to her presence around them; like the way a lonely person can get used to a wounded cat more and faster than anyone else.

"I'm not gonna hunt until I'm sure she can live her normal life." When Dean stated that, Sam really thought he was joking. But after a few days he started to believe it. Dean truly would do anything to keep her alive. From cooking vegetables to laughing at his own dad jokes in front of Y/n to make her smile. That was when Sam started to feel that they can be more than a random hunter/rescued victim relationship! It felt like his brother had finally found his motivation in life: "Saving Y/n."

Gradually Y/n started to respond to this special attention from Dean with trust and smiles. Soon they became a power couple that could motivate each other so easily that sometimes Charlie would call them out. And honestly Sam had no problem with it. In fact Y/n had become his other sister.

"My God, Dean! You're burning up!" It was two day after a werewolf hunt in which Dean had got hurt. At first it was just some scratches on his arms and chest. Yet as the time passed, more symptoms started to appear: headache, pain, fever, cold sweat, even nose bleeding and before they could figure it out, Dean fell unconscious. Apparently the claws of the werewolf were poisonous. However Sam wasn't sure. The only thing he got no doubts about was the fact that it was already too late. Dean couldn't make it to the hospital. So either Sam had to do anything possible to save him or Cas should've picked up his God damn phone.

"No. no, no, no, no. Dean … Dean!!!"

That was when Sam got to hear Y/n's helpless cry and see her true feelings. She was already in love with his brother.

Luckily, unlike typical love stories; no one died that night. Sam's antidote worked. And Dean opened his eyes an hour later.

"Sammy … Y/n?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Y/n grabbed his face and put her thirsty lips on her beloved hunter's, letting the tears stream down on her face… and then his.

"Never do that again." She begged, breaking the kiss, her trembling hands holding Dean's face so she could look into his eyes.

Sam couldn't stop his smile remembering how cute they were. Y/n literally had Dean wrapped around her little finger, to the point he accepted to teach her how to hunt and soon she was part of their team too. Until … a few months ago. After two years of them being constantly close to each other, Sam could tell something was off when Dean started to go out without eating breakfast with Y/n. Of course she got suspicious after the third time and that was when their endless arguments started.

"Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Because nothing is wrong, Y/n."

Actually there was. Something was VERY wrong. Anyone could tell that just by the change in Dean's eyes whenever he wanted to look at Y/n. Day by day he was getting more quiet and cold. Now they didn't even eat pie together or watch movies late at night. And Sam couldn't ignore his brother being grumpy or drunk on hunts, not anymore.

"Ok man, I've had enough. You either tell me what's wrong with you or next time I won't make any excuses so you can leave Y/n out of our hunt plans. I'm serious, Dean, I'll tell her the truth." He finally said, when they were alone in the impala, on their way to do their next hunt.

"She wants more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Sometimes it's like she sees more in me. She thinks we can have a different life. There's no need for any saying, I can see it in her eyes whenever we accidentally come across some family at a diner that try to feed their kids or people's wedding photos whenever we go to talk with some witnesses or whoever during the research! Sometimes she even looks up wedding dresses or kid stuff on the net!" Dean blew his anger out of his nostrils and sighed, shaking his head.

"Wow." Sam couldn't find the proper word to say but he couldn't hide his surprised face either.

"What?" Dean gave him an annoyed look.

"I mean …" Sam chuckled. "… are you telling me you're actually angry with her for imagining the things you always dream about?!"

"Sam …"

"No, really. I'm just curious. What's wrong with you, man?" Sam asked genuinely, waiting for an answer.

"What's wrong with me?! You think something is wrong with me just because I'm the rational one in this relationship; who's actually able to see the difference between a dream and the reality?"

Yeah, anyone could take that earnest speech, but not Sam. He'd seen and knew enough about his brother.

"What's the reality? Aren't you and Y/N living that dream life already?"

"What?! No. No … that's not the same." Dean shook his head.

"Really? How is it not? It's been two years, Dean. You two are constantly with and/or around each other. Always worried when the other one is in trouble and still looking at one another like there is nothing in the world that can make you happy as much as this relationship. So … excuse me if I won't buy your pretty speech; man ." Sam said, Rolling his eyes.

"Ok, let's say you're right but ... is it gonna be like that forever? With all the supernatural crap that we have to take care of … and the constant danger and chaos in this hunter life we have… I …"

"You what?" Sam asked when Dean didn't finish his sentence. He was lost in his thoughts, staring at this unknown point in the depth of the road. Finally he blew out his despair.

"I just can't let her fall for the things I know I can't provide for her. It's not fair, Sammy. It's not fair to lock her up in this dark life with me just because she loves me … especially while I know there is a whole bright future out there waiting for her."

"Here we go, the old Dean's self-doubt" Sam thought to himself as he took a deep breath before finding the best words to wake his brother up from this nightmare

"Yeah, I know but I don't think it's your call. If Y/n wants to go to hell with you instead of living in heaven with someone else, it's her choice. Not your responsibility. Right?"

Dean shook his head while his lips curved up a little to fake a smile but he never answered or said anything about that conversation ever again. He kept his silence for like three weeks … until someone new showed up: "Gary Smith". A tall man with the most stylish haircut and the most perfect teeth and smile.

They saw him for the first time at their hangout bar, as the new bartender who almost jumped in Y/n's way as soon as they entered the bar.

"Oh my God, bunny! Is this really you?" He said, pulling her in his embrace. Like she was the long time missing piece of his beloved puzzle!

"Bonny? You're wrong. Her name is Y/n." Dean said, pretty annoyed by the way Gary tightened his arms around Y/n's little shoulders, making him chuckle.

"No, uh … it's just a nickname." Y/n said as soon as the guy let her go.

"Yeah, actually the most fitting nickname that I could think of. I mean … you have to agree. She got the most cute little ears in the world." The guy explained, chuckling and pulling on her little star earring. Well, if Sam wanted to be honest, he had to agree with him. He never paid any attention to it before but now that Gary mentioned it, he could tell Y/n's ears were truly small.

"I see … So … I guess this means you were close friends?" Dean said, already hating the way Y/n e's blushed with hearing her old nickname.

"Uh … well, no. Actually more than that." The guy grinned, ruffling his own hair while he was awkwardly laughing and looking at Y/n. Just like a proud embarrassed teen!

"We used to date." Y/n said.

*oh* Sam tried his best not to let that stupid grin sit on his lips but Dean's frown and his sudden heavy silence didn't let him do so.

"Yeah. We are kinda each other's first. Like … you know? prom date." The man added, giving Y/n a wink while Dean's gaze was still locked on his large arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah. It's been years, Gary."

"I know. But believe me, bunny. you still look the same." He said, bending to put a kiss on her right cheek.

Dean would kill him. Sam just knew that. Because his brother's eyes were already burning with jealousy.

"By the way, don't you wanna tell me who these gentlemen are ?" The guy asked Y/n, giving her his softest smile.

"Of course. This is Sam and this is Dean. My colleagues who are my friends now. I live in their place."

After they met, everything got even more complicated. Y/n, the girl who was still trying to get old-happy-days Dean back suddenly stopped whatever she used to do. No more complains, no waiting at nights to see Dean before going to bed, no more effort to get involved in hunts, no nothing. And despite what Dean had claimed before, it was making Dean even more frustrated. Day to day he and Y/n were getting colder towards each other and there was nothing he could do to fix it. That was what made him even more furious. Sam already knew all of that and he still had to live with both of those grumpy faces. So last night when they began to fight, he could see this was coming: Y/n left the bunker after Dean let some hurtful things out of his mouth, just because he didn't know how to deal with all the heartache anymore. He now was convinced that Y/n didn't love him anymore. Yet the next day after drinking whatever strong drink they had, he begged Sam to come with him. Apparently Jodie texted Dean about Y/n being in her place for that night. Just to make sure that her crazy step son won't sell his soul over a tracking spell! So Dean almost begged his brother to be there with him, cause Dean believed that as much as Y/n didn't care about him, she still respected Sam and cared about him. Like a little sister and her elder brother.

So here they were, In Jodie's living room, in front of her and Y/n.

"Considering your sleepy eyes, I think we caught you at bed time, huh?" Sam asked, checking Y/n's obvious eye bags.

"Who says that? I'm totally good, Sam."

She said with a small smile, looking much more in control and stronger than before. So Sam knew it was a lie. Y/n Just had made her peace with what had happened last night. The realization۹ kicked Dean in the gut. Y/n always used to be stronger and bolder when she got hurt.

"I'm gonna make some coffee for us. Why don't you guys take a seat till I come back?"

Jodie interrupted, to ease the heavy and sharp silence that suddenly had fallen over all of them.

Y/n gave her a smile.

"Of course."

It was so fake. Her smile didn't even curl her lips completely. She was still badly hurting.

Sam swore in his head when he looked over his brother who sank silently into the nearest seat at the end of the table like a broken shell that he was too . One of Dean's hands was in the pocket of his jacket, the other formed a fist on the table. Sam was sure Dean knew it too. He knew everything was almost past saving. "Almost". Sam tried to stick to their small chance.

"So …" He cleared his voice before he put some (semi fake) hope into his words."You're … you're gonna come back home today or did Alex and Claire made you promise them otherwise?" He laughed and tried to make it funny but the truth was he asked this for Dean's sake, knowing he already was struggling to find the words … to let Y/n know how much he wanted her back … to ask her to come back.

"To be honest … I don't think I can live in the bunker anymore." Y/n said and as Dean's head snapped up to look at her in horror, she raised her hand to stop his (likely) protests.

"I applied for a job 3 weeks ago and to my surprise they called me this morning to tell me I'd actually got it."

*What?*

No one had to ask it. The question was already hung in the air. She snored mockingly in her nose. "Perfect timing, right?"

She moved her gaze from her interlocked fingers on the table to Dean's eyes.

He didn't answer, he didn't move but he got tense. Still staring back at Y/n.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked, once again saving Dean from asking the question he was itching to ask with some other words that for sure couldn't be nice.

"I wanted to but I didn't think I could actually get it and even if I did, I never figured out how to tell you. Besides, I never considered the "move out" option before..." She looked at Sam for a second before she turned her gaze on Dean. "... But I actually appreciate that you bring it up. I think now I can take the advice. I'm gonna move on."

Sam's heart dropped in his stomach when he heard those words. Because he knew what this meant. It felt something like having to watch Dean get stabbed in the heart.

"Is this … because of that Bartender?" Dean asked, staring deadly at Y/n with his bloodshot eyes. He was already chewing on his bottom lip. And Sam knew a heavy storm was on its way to hit them.

"I don't want to answer that question."

*shit*

"Why? Because you can't just simply say no?" Dean scolded and Sam could see how it pushed on Y/n boundaries.

"No. Because it's not your fucking business and it's not Gary's business either. But at least he knows his limits."

*well, fuck*

"By "limits" you mean when he drools on you just because for God knows whatever the reason, you started to wear leather jackets when we go there?"

"WHAT?!"

*Oh, fuck* Sam thought to himself, watching Y/n rise from her seat.

"You think … you really think that I …" she laughed nervously and Sam could tell she would punch Dean in the face if she wasn't a sweet, super nice person.

"How you can even …"

"I can even what, Y/n? Are we now going to pretend like I'm a blind man who can't see how you got attracted to your ex again? Did you really think I couldn't see how your hands were shaking when his filthy face lighted up by seeing you for the first time after all these years?"

Sam wanted to interrupt him or at least leave the room but everything was happening so fast.

"So what? Why and since when you care about my private life?"

"Since you stopped drinking bunker's beers just because you rather drink those crappy poisonous cocktails he makes at the bar!"

Dean was on his feet now as well. And despite his will, Sam couldn't stop his smile. He never saw his brother this jealous before. It was fun.

"Poisonous? … You … of all people, you are the one who says this? cause as much as I know, you're the one who puts dormitives in my guest's food so the poor guy gets tired and can't spend his time with me!"

"Yeah, because your poor guy is not welcomed in MY PLACE!" Dean yelled, punching the table with so much power that made everyone almost jump out of their skins.

"Dean!" Finally Sam interrupted but as soon as he stood up, someone rang the doorbell and Sam could hear Jodie welcoming someone inside.

"Guys … I know it's not my place to interfere but you two really need to sort things out somewhere private … of course that's when both of you can be much calmer than this."

"No, we have nothing to say or to talk about, anymore. Your brother was clear enough when he said he wants me to move out, so I'll move out. And that's it."

Y/n declared, looking at Sam to resist any eye contact with Dean, probably to make him even more crazy.

"And that's it? You wanna ignore that part where you were too eager and ready to accept that suggestion and leave the bunker instantly like your pants were on fire?!"

Dean retorted while Y/n was shaking her head like she couldn't believe him.

"Whose pants are on fire?" Jodie interrupted as soon as she re-entered the room with the coffees she'd made, this time a man was with her. Y/n's guy. The famous bartender.

*Oh, No!*

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a second so the guy couldn't read his face.

"Obviously not mine." Dean hissed through his teeth, looking first at the guy and then at Y/n with such a disappointment and rage that no one could ignore.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The guy asked, choosing the worst spot to stand on: right next to Y/n.

"My typical life I guess. Nothing's new." She mumbled in reply to him but her eyes were still on Dean.

"No, nothing is wrong with your life, Y/n. It's about your choices. That's what's wrong with you. As always." Dean said bitterly. As sharp as a knife, as cold as ice. Sam could see how it drained color from Y/n's face.

"You better watch your mouth, buddy." The Gary guy warned Dean and Sam could tell that if it wasn't for the sudden thud sound that stole everyone's attention, Dean would throw a fight right there. But …

"Y/n!" Jodie almost screamed. Y/n was laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

"Oh, God." Sam said as Jodie rushed to her.

"Y/n? … Y/n can you hear me?"

As she sat next to her, Gary's fingers already were on Y/n's carotid pulse point. So Sam couldn't stop himself from looking up at his brother, who was still standing where he was. In shock.

"Oh, shit!" Gary's worried voice made Sam check Y/n's pale face again but Jodie was the one to dare ask the question which was on everyone's minds.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Her pulse ... too faint." He said before turning to Dean: "Is she bleeding?"

"Bleeding?" Dean blinked and mumbled in confusion.

If it was up to Sam, he'd ask *What bleeding?* & *Why are you asking this from my brother?*

"Oh my. You still don't know. Do you?" Gary sneered.

"Know what? What's happening?" Jodie was freaking out now and Sam actually felt the same. He didn't like the way this stranger pretended like he knew her better than them. However what happened next was much more unexpected. And … rude!

To everyone's surprise, the guy reached out to Y/n's jeans and drew his hand between her legs but before anyone could react, he spread her legs open so it could be possible for everyone to see that big red stain there. Then he raised his hand. It was all wet and red in blood!

"She's having a miscarriage." He revealed.

Sam's gaze instantly caught Dean's ... Burning. Dean was burning inside with his heavy silence.

"Don't you worry. It's not mine." Gary added more fuel to that hell with such a mocking tone, staring right back at Dean's eyes.

Now Sam could feel it. The storm was there: rising in his brother's roar!

Before Sam could've moved any muscles, Gary was already pinned to the wall, Dean's hands on his now-ripped-out collar.

"Dean, no!" Sam jumped in, trying to catch his brother's arm before his fist make any contact with the guy's nose but all he could do was changing the direction of the punch which landed on Gary's shoulder, making a painful cracking sound.

"I said no … Dean, stop it." Sam had to literally cage Dean in his arms so the furious man couldn't tear Gary apart.

"Get off me, Sam. This son of a bitch has to learn his place."

"Enough!" As Dean just broke himself free, Jodie's scream stopped everyone in their tracks.

"It's enough!" Jodie warned all three men, pointing at them one by one.

"You want to fight? Not here. Not in my house!"

"But ..."

As soon as Dean opened his mouth to protest, Jodie cut him:

"And you … you should know Y/n is pregnant with your twins. So … you'll be a responsible man who will try his best to save them or you can get the hell out of here and never come back!"

"What?" Sam was too shocked to suppress his reaction while Dean couldn't even find any words to say. His confused look darted between Jodie's face and Y/n's figure while his parted lips kept moving without making any noise, just like a dying fish on the shore!

"I promised her not to tell anyone but it was a promise under normal conditions, not this." Jodie sighed, struggling to keep her emotions under control. Sam saw the worry in her frown. Like a real mother, worried for her children. However it was nothing in comparison to his brother's blank eyes and pale face.

"Dean, It's ok. We just need to take her to hospital. … it's ok, man. I promise."

He had to grab Dean by his jacket, as his brother was struggling to process all of these in his head.

"Come on, man. We got no time. Do I need to do this alone or you'll …"

"Get the car, Sammy."

It was just a simple sentence. Yet it had enough power to make Sam's heart sank. Since Dean had put the car keys in his hand saying that, Sam couldn't stop thinking about that tone. Dean never had called Baby a "car" In years. And Sam had never heard that crack in his voice since their Dad's death.

"You ok?" He finally let himself ask, two hours after they arrived at the hospital.

"I want to be." Dean closed his eyes and put his head against the cold wall, letting the dim light to darken the shadows under his eyes.

"I'm sure she'll be good. She's strong, Dean. You know that."

He smiled and Sam looked away not to watch him. He knew that smile. Dean used to give him that, whenever everything was gone so wrong that Dean couldn't promise him anything good. Like when both of them were still kids. Hungry, cold and all alone in a rusty motel room where John had left them on their own for a one day long hunt but then a heavy snow had crashed the roads and kept them apart for half a week. So Dean had to wash the dishes and do the laundry in the motel to rent the room for another day and provide some snacks so they wouldn't starve to death. But after three days, the hotel managers didn't want them to be around. And Sam could vividly remember that smile on his brother's face when he asked: *Where should we go then?*

"You were always such a father material. You know?"

Sam admitted with a broken smile on his face.

"You were always responsible, kind and caring with me as a kid. And I can't imagine anyone who deserves to be a father more than you."

Dean took a deep breath and opened his eyes without looking at him: "But I don't want ... I really can't, Sammy."

All, it certainly wasn't the response Sam had expected. He used to believe that Dean would never turn down any chance to start a family with Y/n. Especially after everything in the world was back to normal.

"Are you kidding me? You always wanted this."

"No …" Dean finally turned his gaze to meet his brother's confused eyes. "No, Sammy. Not like this. I don't want to raise another kid without his mom. I'm not that strong anymore."

Dang. Once again Sam's heart dropped in his stomach. Dean was really helpless.

"Mr. Winchester?"

Dean was on his feet as Sam just realized the doctor's presence.

"It's me."

Sam prayed for any good news as doctor took a glance of Dean and fixed his glasses on his face …

"To be continued …"

READ CHAPTER 2 HERE

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The next and also ultimate chapter will post on Sunday, April 25. Thanks for reading.

Feedback are always appreciated.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x ofc #dean x you #dean winchester #allyswritingevent #Acklesterritory #dean winchester x ofc #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you

[cle1024]

beyond the silver horizon | lfl

member: lee felix 

genre: angst 

summary: everything you told me, the words you whispered into that stinging winter atmosphere, was spoken far too late.  mafia!au 

warnings: violence, death 

a/n: an anon requested mafia angst with felix, i hope this lives up to expectations <3 i got inspiration for this story after listening to seventeen from the heathers and watching a quiet place, i didn’t think a horror movie could make me that sad but i’m also a notorious crier! also i’m very sorry i disappear for such long periods of time i’m in my final year of school and suck at time management anyway love you 

The sky pooled with the blue of faded jeans and snowcloud grey, the abysmal winter taking the common popularity far from the sandy miles and crashing tides. It was at its peak in winter, despite being a beach. It flawlessly transformed from a bustling getaway to a tranquil sanctuary, one you had come to share with another. Felix’s silver hair often matched that of the beyond skyline, the sun’s muted rays being overpowered by cool-toned clouds. Words often went unexchanged in such moments, as the two of you preferred to bask in all the peace and serenity. In those moments, you would feel free—no longer looking over your shoulder with caution, watching your friends walk out of doors they may never walk through again. Instead, it was just waves. Crashing water flowing back and forth, back and forth. They never went away. Felix had never spoken many words while you found yourselves sat on the cold sand together, though the few he aired always stuck in your mind. They were words you’d unknowingly yearned to hear, words that allowed you to escape to a fantasy each night as your eyes closed until the morning. 

“Someday, we’ll go far beyond that silver horizon,” he had promised you, “we’ll leave it all behind for a new beginning.” 

“You really think so?” 

He smiled at you reassuringly as he nodded gently, “I know we will.” 

The day Felix met you wasn’t unusual, nor was it anything special at the time. He couldn’t remember how he found himself caught up in the world of drug lords and shady business, but he remembered exactly when he laid eyes on you — four in the afternoon he witnessed Minho leading you to Chan’s office, neither of you with pleasant facial expressions. Minho looked bored, you looked irritated, he didn’t want to know how Chan looked. As much as he expected to watch you disappear into the confines of his boss’ office and never reappear, at five o’clock he observed you leaving the office with Chan, the man smiling with satisfaction, victorious. Felix could remember watching you navigate your way around the base for a few days before Changbin grew tired of the male’s intense observation, said he looked like he was “trying to turn the damn kid into ice!” 

From what he understood, though never confirmed, you were down on your luck, broke, and made the mistake of robbing Minho—successfully, much to the dismay of the male’s ego. It didn’t take the bright haired male long to track you down and drag you back to base, not with the expectation of grievous punishment, but with the intention of acquiring you a job. Minho was frequently forgiving, unlike most, and considered you lucky to have chosen him instead of someone else—someone much more ruthless, bloodthirsty. Chan wasn’t hesitant in persuading you to join, Minho was one of the most perceptive people he’d ever met; he was observant, strong-minded, soft-spoken and thought in ways he had never once considered. And he was usually right, but Chan didn’t want to inflate his ego too much. 

Three months into the job, as unconventional as it was, you spoke your first words to Felix. They were words he’d heard in countless variations prior, yet something about your voice resonated deep within him, almost as if a ray of moonlight had struck his soul and encased it. 

“Chan said we have business together, can I trust you?” 

“Always.” 

Felix didn’t question you back, despite tradition. Somehow, he knew you’d give the same answer. It was laced in the gentle smile you futilely suppressed. 

Trickling down the glass windows, beads of perspiration and rain water scattered across the window pane. Your eyes watched the droplets slide from their original position on the glass to the bottom, replaced by another splash of crystal liquid. Felix glanced at you momentarily; it was bizarre how things had changed so swiftly. Three months since the first time you spoke — the same amount of time it took the two of you to verbally communicate for the first time — yet it felt as if you were engaged in a three year long friendship. The two of you had found freedom, paradise, in the sandy shores of an unpatrolled beach, no matter how abysmal in appearance. The two of you were yet to experience a beach in nice weather, together at least, instead sticking to the depressing atmosphere of chilled winter days, the scenery a colour scheme suitable to Felix’s ash blonde, white, or silver strands of hair. It was coincidental to begin with, then it became an innocent rendezvous requested in moments of loneliness and exhaustion. The freckled male wished he could take credit for the organisation of such ‘bonding’, so to speak, but it was your proposal, spoken as poetically as ever — “perhaps we should make this our own utopia, hey? Watch the oscillation of murky water plunge into abysmal depths.” Felix wasn’t sure how to respond the first time around, the eloquence of your words stunning him momentarily. All his brain could think was: “yeah, whatever that means.” He had simply nodded instead. Though, truthfully, he didn’t really care what it meant. If it granted him time with you, he would be willing to make it a tradition. 

That beach became your utopia, a hideaway from the consequences of the lifestyle the two of you found yourselves entangled in. Whether you sat under the shelter of Felix’s clunky black buick or amongst the scattered sand grains, the soothing sound of crashing waves washing the shoreline put the two of you at ease. It was escapism at its finest. Even when the topic of your line of work—if it could even be considered a form of employment—was brought up, it felt as if it were a hypothetical scenario. “If you were a part of the mafia, would you want to escape?” rather than “do you think we could ever escape being in the mafia?” You always answered no while Felix maintained hope, but you both seldomly pondered how you could escape a lifestyle that was so omnipresent. 

The pair of you found yourselves sat within the same clean car three weeks later, travelling down a long stretch of smoothly paved highway with obscured chatter being emitted from the silver radio. It wasn’t for a blissful escape this time. Rather, a job—or mission, you still didn’t know how to appropriately refer to the actions you were sent out to perform. Felix knew more of the situation than you knew, mainly because you zoned out halfway through Changbin’s explanation of the whole situation. Then again, you didn’t really care to know the extensive reasoning Changbin had for why certain things had to be done, as long as you got the job done and weren’t fucking murdered for not doing so, you didn’t really care. You’d spent the majority of the four hour car ride staring out the window, watching cars wizz past at illegal speeds, even for a highway, and trees blur into green masses of indistinct leaves and skinny branches. It only became evident that you had reached some form of civilisation when the pine trees evolved into small convenience stores and quaint homes, then towering skyscrapers and elegant apartments. The buzz of the radio, a sound you’d become accustomed to over the hours, was intercepted by Felix’s deep voice, “we’ll have to leave for the museum at six tomorrow evening. I’ll explain the situation on the way, I know you weren’t listening,” he teased cheekily. 

You smiled mildly with a roll of your eyes, “you’re the boss—oh, wait.” 

Felix scoffed and smacked your shoulder lightly, “get out of my car before I throw you out and leave.” 

“Shut it, Lix’. You love me.” 

A shit-eating grin was spread across your face as you took your gym bag from the boot, turning on your foot to enter the luxurious hotel. Felix smiled fondly at you—shit. Perhaps he did. 

The hotel room was what Changbin would describe as ‘comfortable’, but that chandelier-swinging prick was born into a lengthy ancestry of money—and criminal activity, though you supposed that was irrelevant. It wasn’t really, but it was a four-hour presentation you didn’t want to mentally sit through. Instead, you took in the opulent hotel room with awe and appreciation. White marble tiles spread along the floor, a light gold chandelier adorned with rhinestones dangled over the large dining table. The room was overboard in every possible way, though Chan had brushed it off as “getting into character”. You supposed that it would be more covert to retreat into a hotel equally lavish to the gala the two of you planned to intrude on. That part had almost slipped your mind—the whole criminal part of it. He’d subconsciously experienced the trip as a getaway. It wasn’t a work expense, it was a sumptuous getaway to escape that lifestyle, ignoring the stress of money, drugs, and being tailed by the police. It was freedom—except it wasn’t. It was nothing more than business; everything was just business. Felix, on the other hand, was painfully aware of the situation, in a way that you didn’t know or understand—not yet, at least. The male didn’t hold contempt towards the situation for being ‘just business’, he held contempt for what it should have been. It wasn’t the kind of goodbye he’d wanted to give you, sitting in an over-the-top hotel room preparing for a mission before leaving, for good. He had it all planned out, people who would help him—even Chan knew about the whole plot, for goodness sake, he’d sworn to cover it up as an untimely death. Though, as it drew closer, Felix couldn’t help reject the original plan. It was a solid plan, but it didn’t include you. How could he ever leave without you? 

Felix, foolish as it was, didn’t sleep that night. Tossing and turning around in the silky blue sheets, feeling them twist around his bare torso, felt much more comforting than sleeping—despite the fact he would escape from the thoughts he felt tormented by. At one point he’d left the room entirely, standing on the balcony as the cold air pricked at his exposed skin. It was winter, how fitting. He’d watched you lay peacefully in the sheets for a few moments, the steady rising of your chest putting him at ease momentarily, until those thoughts came creeping in again. In all honesty, he hadn’t even planned on telling you—or anyone. He would just slip away into the night, run as if his life depended on it—it did, he supposed. With a sigh, the male slipped back into the warmth of the hotel room, sliding the glass door closed to forbid the frosty air from plaguing the room and ruining your peaceful slumber. Fuck, he really couldn’t leave you behind. The frosty bathroom tiled stung the soles of his feet as he splashed water on his face, patting the freckled skin dry with the lightest touch possible, as if he would break if too much force was used. Felix had never felt so close to the edge — the edge of what, he wasn’t certain yet, but something told him he’d understand soon enough. 

The sun was steadily disappearing behind the uneven horizon, and you were taking advantage of the last pungent rays of sunlight to prepare for the gala night—you supposed it was better to be early hours before you had to leave instead of minutes. Plus, Felix had encouraged you to do so and he had far more experience than you. He also had ulterior motives in the form of telling you heavy news and a proposal he prayed you wouldn’t reject. Truthfully, he hadn’t even considered how to approach the topic. Did he just spit it out: “I’m leaving”, or was that too harsh? Why did it even matter? It’s not like he would be around to watch the fall out—that didn’t make it any better, though. 

“What time do we leave?” Felix’s thoughts were intruded by your querying voice. His head turned in your direction and, fuck, you looked beautiful. 

“Uh- seven. Weren’t you listening to Chan?” The slight teasing edge of his voice prompted a playful smile to stretch across your face as you raised an eyebrow. 

“When have I ever listened to Chan?” A deep chuckle vibrated in Felix’s chest as he shook his head gently. Of course you hadn’t, you remained as independent as ever, “besides,” you sigh gently as you move to sit next to him on the unmade bed, “the stuff he says just reminds me of the shitty situation I’m in.” 

“What do you mean?” The freckled male raised an eyebrow in question. You laughed bitterly. 

“The fact I’m a dimestore criminal and always will be. The only time it will end is when I’m thrown in prison—and I’d still be bloody miserable,” your words hung heavy in the air as Felix chewed on his plush lower lip. Fuck it. 

“We could leave, together. You know. Start a new life, be happy.” 

A sigh passed your lips, a mix of exasperation and misery, “Felix, you know this isn’t the kind of life you can just run away from.” 

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? Don’t you want to be free?” 

“Living in fear isn’t living freely!” with slumped shoulders, a posture of defeat, the exasperation dissipated from your face, “you should know that by now.” 

Mustering up the necessary courage, Felix allowed his deep voice to break through the tense atmosphere, “well—I’m leaving.” 

You visibly froze, shoulders rigid and jaw tense as the news simmered in the air. The silence was thick, Felix could feel it melting through his skin and coating his bones, “I’m leaving tomorrow night,” it was the affirmation you didn’t want to hear. The news that, no, this wasn’t some sick joke, this was real fucking life and Felix was leaving you, “I know some people that can help me out, but—” he sighed with hesitance, “I’ll stay if I’m what you choose.” 

Felix failed to realise it at the time, but from this distance, painfully aware of the emptiness of the grey grains of sand, Felix knew that the sandy shores were never his idea of paradise. It was the person who sat beside him, enduring the cold weather in a comfortable silence. 

It was easier to put on a happy face than either of you had expected. Though, thinking about it, you weren’t sure why you had such little faith in your acting skills—you’d managed to hide your criminal occupation under a law-abiding facade, after all. Felix had briefly run through the plan, meaning he had told you to keep a low profile and follow his lead. You had assumed it was an ordinary job—steal their stash, take out anyone who got in your way, get the fuck out of there. Suffice it to say, you found yourself in awe at the beauty surrounding you. The museum was painted in tones of gold and white, with lush velvet lounges and curtains showcasing the large pristine glass windows. All exhibits were on display, allowing the museum to brag its gorgeous vintage paintings and unique bone collections — you were pretty sure you’d heard Minho brag the same thing, and you were absolutely certain you didn’t let him explain it any further than that. Feeling Felix’s hand brush gently against your arm, you turned your attention to the silver-haired male, suppressing the attraction blooming in your eyes. He looked marvelous. Hair swept back effortlessly with a crisp suit adorning his slim frame. To say he didn’t look intimidating would be a blatant lie, and to act as if you weren’t already immensely attracted to him would be pointless. With an internal reprimand, you raised an eyebrow at Felix, inviting him to proceed with his words. 

“Just mingle for a little bit. Go through that door,” he discretely gestured his head towards a set of large dark oak doors, “about ten minutes after I do. Wait in the hall, and if anyone asks, you needed a break from socialising.” 

Nodding with understanding, you watched as Felix sent a reassuring smile your way before sauntering across the large room, smiling and greeting other primly dressed men he probably didn’t know. An unpleasant thought plagued your mind, one you desperately wanted to push away from contemplation: as soon as this mission was over and you returned to the base you called home, you would have to watch as he walked away once again, a stride towards freedom. It was something he so desperately craved, you couldn’t bring yourself to take that away from him—no matter how much you wanted to. The sound of the ebony wooden grandfather clock was lost in the sound of absent-minded chatter and fake laughter, yet the hands still moved as each second, minute, passed by. Five minutes had passed. What was Felix doing? Six minutes had passed. Why did you have to wait so long? Seven minutes had passed. Was he in danger? Eight minutes had passed. Would you see him again? Nine minutes had passed. Why didn’t you agree to leave with him? Ten minutes had passed. You were tired of this life. The thought struck you as you clandestinely stride towards the large doors Felix had disappeared behind, pacing a few strides down the hall before leaning against the wall, waiting. 

How much time had passed? You weren’t certain, it felt as if time had stopped moving since you leaned against the wallpaper-covered surface. Footsteps alerted you to another’s presence, your head turning in the direction to scope out a potential threat — though your shoulders relaxed as the familiar chocolate eyes of Felix met your own. Fixing your posture, you waited until he was standing beside you, “we happy?” 

Felix smiled gently at your Pulp Fiction reference, “yeah, we’re happy. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

Placing his hand on the small of your back, he prepared to escort you from the grand location, all the while you pondered why Felix needed a partner when he did everything alone. Though, your questions were answered. 

“Not so fast, pal,” you had often feared being murdered by Changbin for not completing a mission, yet for some reason you didn’t fear the potential of being shot in the head by a rival gang. 

“Ah, Mr. Hyunsuk, what a pleasure it is,” the freckled male’s response was short yet polite, a false smile stretched upon his face. How did he still look so angelic in the face of death? 

“Yongbok,” Felix’s smile faltered, “let’s not pretend. Just return whatever you’ve taken from us and everyone will leave here safely.” 

“With all due respect, I believe you’re wrong,” you spoke up — that was your job — “we’ll be keeping our new possessions and leave safely,” to jump in recklessly when things began going sideways. Then, guns were drawn. You can’t recall who drew first, who shot first, but you knew you and Felix had split up to take different vantage points. Peeking from behind the cabinet you crouched behind, you fired a shot towards the muscular bald man shooting in Felix’s direction, who narrowly avoided a bullet between his eyes. How many people had come? You weren’t sure, you weren’t counting. It was pure adrenaline, shooting almost blindly at those who threatened the success of your job. The sound of a gun jamming snapped you out of your daze, forcing you to watch as Felix struggled to identify the problem with his gun. Ah shit, you supposed it was time to do your job. Leaping from behind the bullet-riddled cabinet, you fired towards the moving human targets in rapid succession. One down, two down, a bullet fired into Hyunsuk’s knee, another into his hip. Another gun joined you, Felix’s pistol shooting at the men attempting to pull their boss from the fray. 

The pain shot through you before you could process what was happening. It was searing, a deep burning sensation that had you clutching the spot in agony, struggling to stay on your feet. Vaguely, as if rooms away, you heard Felix’s gunfire halt as a thud echoed from the other side of the hall, then you heard footsteps against the polished floor. Rapid, either rushing to help someone or rushing to take their last breath. A pair of arms snaked around your waist and supported your back as you swayed, disoriented. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Felix’s gentle hold on you prevented further stumbling on your behalf. The words couldn’t form upon your lips, your eyes glancing around haphazardly, as if blinking more would help you process the situation you were in. His eyes trailed downwards, widening as he finally noticed the hand haphazardly clutching your abdomen. 

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” his speech was rapid, his gravelly voice coming out in a corybantic manner as he struggled to find the right action to take. There was a short period where he struggled, laying you down as he attempted to assess the bloody patch hiding beneath your stained hand. Weakened, you found yourself unable to fight off Felix’s movements as he peeled your hand away delicately, breath quickening at the extent of your wound. If he didn’t get you help in the next minute, he knew you wouldn’t make it, “ah, okay—shit. Just—keep your hand on there, pressure, yeah?” 

There was no effort to move on your behalf, thus Felix’s hand found its way pressing atop your bleeding injury. Though, your fingers wrapped around his wrist as you smiled gently towards him, “don’t.” 

Confusion laced his eyes, “don’t? Y/N, I’m not going to let you bleed out here. I’m not going to let you die!” 

You only nodded slightly, “you are. You have to.” 

His eyesight grew blurry, his stomach twisted in knots, the croaks of sobs were climbing up his throat as he mulled over your words. His voice quivered, “b-but, I can’t let you die. I need you.” 

There were no words to respond to his statement, just a weak and gentle hand caressing his cheek. He could hear footsteps approaching, but he couldn’t find it in him to look away from you—he didn’t care if it was a fatal mistake or not. A deep breath filled your lungs, a stray tear leaking from your eye and sliding down your temple as you mustered up the strength to breathe out the confession you’d been suppressing for years. 

It was gentle, angelic in the other’s ears, the words the both of you wished you’d said earlier, “you’re the one I choose.” 

Not every story has a happy ending, but at least they have an ending. Even if it tore the soul from someone and stomped on it, that sense of finality was necessary. Felix had seen a lot of pain in his life, far too much loss, yet the final chapter of a story involving him—your story—had never felt so… wrong. Out of place, missing. It wasn’t the ending he wanted for you, though who was he to change fate? There was nothing Felix could do to go back to that time, to redo anything and everything to fix the ending. All he could do was think of how much he loved and lost in a matter of moments. 

Sighing as he watched the waves carry your ashes past the skyline, Felix’s voice broke into the crisp air, “one day, I’ll meet you beyond that silver horizon,” he sniffled slightly as the autumn breeze caressed his face, “I know I will.” 

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids angst #lee felix #lee yongbok #felix #skz #lee felix angst #felix angst #lee felix scenarios #felix scenarios #felix imagine #felix imagines #lee felix imagine #lee felix imagines #angst #skz scenarios #skz angst #kpop scenarios #kpop #stray kids lee felix #stray kids felix #stray kids lee yongbok #stray kids felix lee

[geometricalien]

U bet I'm gonna ask for my boys Aomine & Kagami!!

Hey!!!!!! I will gladly talk about your boys!! I LOVE YOU, thank you for the ask sweetheart <3

Kagami

Why I like them - He’s great, just great. His fire and passion. The fact that he gets so excited about playing a match that he can’t fall asleep. He’s scared of doggos, that’s adorable! His extra two toned hair and split eyebrows. The fact that he’s just so cool. I think about him growing up gay in california alot. God what a great character, so much to play with

Why I don’t - I j-just said that I like him?? OH I don’t like the fact that he leaves after The Last Game (I do though because it creates a fun long distance dynamic which could be fun for ships, you know long distance pining and then a reunion at long last, but I also hate it which I will get in below)

Favorite episode (scene if movie) - Hmmm I’m not sure… I don’t think I can pin point an exact episode, I really love his moves in the Seirin vs Rakuzan match, like covering the key like Akashi did and when Akashi steps in he steps back and passes the ball off because thats a hard nope, the moment he fucking dunks on Akashi with Meteor Jam. I love seeing him in the zone, it's so entertaining

Favorite season/movie - Maybe the first season?? Because you are still getting introduced to him and who he is as a character

Favorite line - “Life is all about challenges, there’s no point in living if there’s no one strong to play with, it’s better if I can’t win.”  (tell me that him and Aomine aren’t soulmates, I dare you, they are literally foils for each other, they truly understand each other and complete each other)

Favorite outfit - I don’t remember if it's when he leaves for training in America or he leaves to go back to America, but he’s wearing a hoodie and headphones. Those headphones make him feel so real?? You know??? I want to know what he listens to

OTP - AoKaga

Brotp - (can I say AoKaga again??? fjdsaljf) If not, Kagami and Himuro, obviously jfdklaj

Head Canon - After his mom died (maybe she left?) Kagami took it on to learn how to cook because his dad worked late. He still can’t get her katsudon quite right. 

Unpopular opinion (I don’t really have an unpopular opinion, so this is kinda a surprising Head Canon) - Kuroko would successfully get him used to dogs and then he would adopt 2 big ole doggos

A wish - I really hope he makes it into the NBA, its my favorite career for him

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen - Leave Japan after The Last Game…. OKAY HEAR ME OUT, what happens if Kagami leaves? Huh? If we are being frank here, Seirin doesn’t do well at nationals (assuming they qualify if they don’t go against other GOM teams) because yeah, they got like 2nd in Nationals when it was just the senpais, but we have the monsters from Teiko now and without another monster to combat them in some way it's a landslide in points. But Rachel, Kuroko is a GoM! You’re right! And he would definitely help them get points, but my point still stands, Kuroko is a support/booster who can’t even be in the entire match. AND THEN they won’t be able to beat Touou, at all! AND THEN IT WILL ONLY BE WORSE WHEN THE GOM ARE 3rD YEARS! Secondly, Aomine…. I fear the fact that they separate from each other. Because it's so easy for Aomine to slip back into his depression, But Rachel, Kise is still in Japan! He would be a good competition for Aomine! You are right, that’s assuming he actually could beat him But Kise has finally broken the ideology that Aomine is special and can’t be copied! And I say again, you are right. Give me this fic. I want this fic. Please make your words a reality, otherwise I won’t accept this. Because Aomine will be left alone with no strong fiery companion to fight against, and it's easy to slip into old thought habits when your brain follows the same path… SO PLEASE SEND ME A LINK TO A AOKISE FIC WITH THIS PREMISE

5 words to best describe them - Passionate. Stupid. Heart-of-gold. Determined. Tiger-man.

My nickname for them - ….. Kagami…. I know I’m so smart. Besides that, Basketball Idiot #1

Aomine

Why I like them - Have you seen him??? He’s so hot and slick, I fall in love a bit and bit more when I watch him play basketball. No but really, I love his more childlike innocent playful side. Even when he’s sarcastic slinging an arm over his boyfriend Kagami’s shoulder. Like, What are you doing here bitch? He’s fun, and has a lot of depth

Why I don’t - He’s crass?? Like in irl, I would either be deeply scandalized by him or he would make me laugh uncontrollably while transforming into a tomato, no inbetween

Favorite episode (scene if movie) - I think… oooo, I really love the first 1 on 1 between him and Kagami, “Your light is too dim” because he was looking for a light for himself too. Someone who would push himself to being better, to bring him out of the darkness. BUT, him in the zone and dancing with Kagami is also really good. I watch those amvs every other week

Favorite season/movie - hmmm the second Seirin vs Touou match, BECAUSE THEY’RE DANCING, THEY COULD DANCE ALL DAY try to catch me try to catch me, im sorry I had to

Favorite line - “That’s it, show some spirit so you can entertain me, even a little.” The sexual tension when he drops his arm over Kagami’s shoulder, and like… that’s definitely something you could read in a smut fic jfdklsj

Favorite outfit - HIS ASS KICKING OUTFIT. I love his parka 

OTP - AoKaga

Brotp - AOMINE AND MOMOI!!!! THE BEST OF FRIENDS, I THINK ABOUT THEM PLAYING IN SANDBOXES AND ON THE BASKETBALL COURT AS BABIES AND MY HEART GETS SOFT

Head Canon - He fell down a lot as a child and has many scars on his legs. 

Unpopular opinion (I don’t really have an unpopular opinion, so this is kinda a surprising Head Canon)- I guess, he plays 1 on 1s with Kagami every Saturday at sunset and they go to Maji afterwards until it causes a hefty dent in his wallet and hangs off of Kagami to get him to cook for him. Also, they get some other GoM’s to join in their weekly fun matches, Kuroko, Kise, and Momoi

A wish - He also goes to NBA :)))

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen - He fucks up his leg and isn’t able to play basketball anymore, too tragic for me to even think about

5 words to best describe them - Depressed. Let-down. Child-like. Intense. Feral energy.

My nickname for them - Ahomine (yes I stole it) and Basketball Idiot #2

[arrivalation]

2020: An Account

This year has been a nonstop, off-the-rails bullet train ride into what looked at first like chaos, but ultimately was a tearing down and reconstruction of my entire being. Because I know myself and I know I won’t remember much of this later, I’m recording it here. It’s hard to put some of this information out, but the universe regularly urges me to be more open. So here I go.

January

I got married.

It was, without contest, the absolute best day of my life. I’ve known since I was real little that I wanted to be married, that I wanted to be loved the way M loves me and to love someone just as much. I don’t know how to explain the feeling of having achieved that, and being able to share that with my entire circle. @abyssalsun​ made it down!! (my only regret is that @ladyoriza​ couldn’t make it, but I’m still so glad we got to make it to theirs). As often as I can, I revisit the memory of going to @chromecutie​’s house afterward, thinking it’d just be the four of us there, and opening the door to find a whole impromptu surprise party happening. Everyone cheered for us when we came in. I played CAH with Mordred, my brother and his wife, and several friends from out of town. By all accounts, these people would never have been in the same room together, but they were, and it was transcendent. It’s been almost a year, and I still haven’t recovered from all the planning and stress; but now that I’m past it, I can say with relief that it was 100% worth it.

February

We bought a house.

Up until this point, I’d been planning a wedding, participating in house-buying stuff as best I could, interviewing for a job I ended up not taking, and dealing with life-long mental illness that was festering and reaching critical mass. But then stuff started wrapping up. The wedding happened. The house was ours. We moved in. I could finally fucking breathe. LMAO bitch you thought.

March

The pandemic reached us.

I guess by this point it had probably already been in the US for a couple months, idr. But it wasn’t until March that things really started happening. People started dying in droves. New cases spread like wildfire. I remember thinking that this would be the zombie apocalypse, because at this point, I don’t think the CDC knew much about the virus. In my anxious mind, that was a completely reasonable assumption. My boss had us all start working from home. We all thought it’d be just a couple weeks.

April

I settled into working from home.

It didn’t take me long to get used to it, maybe a week. I hadn’t yet gotten used to my new hour-long commute from the new house to work, and so working from home quickly became my new normal. But I didn’t know yet why working from home was so good for me. All I knew was that I now had the brain-space to process things. I had the energy to do yoga and cook and do hobbies, and the time to appreciate and care for the home I lived in. I could think more clearly because there was no one else around to distract me. There was sunlight I could bask in. I felt human for once, and that became vitally important and infinitely valuable to me. Despite that, I still struggled with extreme anxiety, panic attacks, and some of the worst depression I’ve suffered through since I was a teenager. Outside my house, everything was a fucking mess and no one had their shit together.

May

I went back to the office for a few weeks.

There was a lull in pandemic activity. My boss had us all start coming back to the office again. At this point, I couldn’t make heads or tails of reality anymore. Everything was changing, nothing was stable. I desperately needed to stay working from home, because that was the one thing that felt Good and Right, but I had no real argument other than, 'I just need to.' So imagine me, at this point a soggy, run-over sloppy joe, attempting to return to normal. As you might think, it was... bad. I cried and hurt all the time. I think I really freaked out my boss with the way I reacted to coming back to the office. But then the second wave hit, and we all went back to working from home again.

June

Uncle Mike died on the first day of the month.

My uncle had been sick for a while, but no one was expecting him to die so suddenly. None of us were ready for it.

I also died that day.

It might sound dramatic, but I mean it quite literally and honestly. Over the years, I had gained suspicion that I was on the autism spectrum. M graciously found me a psychiatrist that took my insurance (and happened to be right next door). I wasn’t even going in for that - I was seeking treatment for my anxiety and depression. But I had amassed a (very long) list of my symptoms, and I brought it with me and read it to my doctor. I wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the list when he stopped me. I’m paraphrasing here, but in effect, he said, “No, yeah, you’re definitely autistic.”

I remember the way my body felt. Like someone had detonated a bundle of TNT in my chest, and I was burning from the inside out. At the time, I didn’t realize this emotional immolation was purposeful and executed by the universe to get rid of this old structure and build a newer, better, stronger one. For about fifteen seconds after he said that, I was relieved that it had been that easy, that there was an explanation for everything that my ADHD didn’t explain. It made a ton of sense why my environment was so important to me. And then I felt something unnameable. It was obvious to my doctor that I was autistic. Had it been obvious to everyone else? Why hadn’t it been obvious to me? I read the rest of my symptoms to him in a daze. I don’t remember how the rest of the appointment went.

And then I burned quietly and ungracefully until I was a pile of ashes. I didn’t know this at the time, but apparently it’s common for newly-diagnosed autistic people to have such dramatic and painful reactions, especially if they weren’t well-informed on the condition. Which I wasn’t.

I started therapy.

I also started learning about my “flavor” of autism. It was arduous, embarrassing, isolating, and ugly. I became aware that I had been masking my whole life, and I was astounded by just how often I did so. What really crushed me was knowing that I’d always have to mask to protect myself. I also became hyper-aware of the things that made me Feel Bad. Inexplicably, I stopped being able to react to those things the way I used to. Previously, if something made a loud and unexpected sound, I would suppress my reaction, because it’s not cool to get mad about it. But I found I couldn’t do that anymore. I had no choice but to react the way I needed to react. I realize now that this was to make me aware of what things make me feel a certain way so I can either avoid them or learn better tools to deal with them.

The therapist I saw wasn’t specialized in autism, and she wasn’t any help in that area, but she did teach me some important things. Like, “Is it reasonable for me to feel ____?”

July

Black hole.

I don’t remember a whole lot from this month, except sifting my own ashes through my fingers and crying. Every day brought a new revelation, a new thing that clicked. All of it was helpful and very painful. My psychiatrist recommended medication, but I’d had a bad and long-lasting experience with medication as a teenager, so I suffered through the pain on my own.

I shouldn’t have. I got so low I didn’t want to be alive anymore. But I think it took reaching the bottom and feeling that much pain for me to get over my fear of pharmaceuticals. 

I got into astrology.

I had been interested in it for most of my life, but it wasn’t until this point that I started studying it in depth. I discovered it was a language that I could use to translate so many things about my own life that I didn’t understand. It was a rulebook in a time when I desperately needed rules - but one just flexible enough that it taught me how to stop thinking in binary.

August

I got medicated.

There was a big adjustment period, of course. It didn’t cure me. But it did start to make things easier. And it helped to know that, even if I didn’t believe it at the time, I deserved to rest. I deserved not to feel so much emotional pain all the time.

I turned 30.

It was easily the second best day of my life. I learned a lot of important things, like that it’s important to be present, that I’m seen and loved (just the way I am!!), and that I deserve good things. M planned a whole day of surprises:

I woke up at my leisure and we had coffee on the couch. He got me a cute card with one of our inside jokes inside - I still have it.

We went to our favorite combination lunch place and bakery, which I believe was our first real outing since the pandemic started.

We stopped by a tattoo place. I almost got a tattoo.

He set me loose in Texas Art Supply.

We got dim sum for dinner.

We had a lovely virtual cocktail hour with @chromecutie.

He bought me an ipad!!

I became Spiritual™.

I had been agnostic for the past decade or so, slowly and subtly slipping into nihilism, without realizing how detrimental those ideas were to me. I’m not sure what I thought spirituality was before, but I wasn’t into it. I had always rolled my eyes at people who talked about “a higher power”, auras, and spirit guides, until I became that person.

My psychiatrist introduced some powerful ideas to me, ones that meshed well with my previously-existing idea of how the universe worked. I won’t get into details here. That’s a whole other post. Ask me though - I’d love to talk about it.

Anyway, I started (intermittently) meditating. I learned some exceptionally powerful stuff. I felt my scaffolding being erected.

September

I started learning who I am and why I am this way.

I started seeing a new therapist. She thinks like me. She follows my erratic, forking trains of thought. She sees me and offers real, actionable feedback and solutions. Working with her, I’ve gained the ability to see my life from a 30,000-foot view. I can see now why I’ve felt so lonely my whole life. I understand how my family’s dysfunction has shaped me. I know now that I have the opposite of a victim complex - by default, I believe I am so awful that I feel sorry for everyone who has to deal with me. Because that’s what I was taught to believe. Learning that I deserve to take up space, set boundaries, say no, and be wrong sometimes is still a hard lesson for me. But most days, I believe it now. It takes other people believing it and convincing me. I still need that reassurance often.

My parents sold my childhood home.

Mentally, emotionally, I still lived there. I was still the inverted victim, still beholden to my stepdad’s whims and my mom’s complete cognitive dissonance. This was a blinking neon sign from the universe that it was time to move out. My mom told me when the closing date was so I’d have time to drive down and look at the house one last time. I didn’t go, and I still don’t regret it.

I started learning my boundaries.

After my spiritual move-out, I learned I don’t have to jump when my stepdad holds out the little circus hoop. When he otherwise shows zero interest in my life but still baits me with passive-aggressive texts, I don’t have to answer!! What a concept! I don’t have to feel guilty for not talking to my mom more than I do. We have very little in common, and I still have a lot of things to work through regarding her.

I learned how not to be so reactive.

Or rather, I’m still learning. Something else I learned in therapy is that over the course of my life, I’ve developed a desperate need to defend myself and to justify every action or thought I have, even to myself. It’d been especially troubling at work. My RSD led me to felt stupid, incompetent, and unseen daily; if my boss complimented someone, I believed it also meant he thought I was stupid and bad and wrong, otherwise he would have complimented me too. If my boss said something that even remotely sounded like I’d done something wrong, I’d race to build an impenetrable defense: “This is the reason I did that. Here’s my line of thinking. Do you understand? Can you please understand?”

Now I know that so little of what everything everyone says or does at work is about me. I can appreciate a coworker’s accomplishment and also realize it doesn’t take away anything from me. I’m not stupid or incompetent, and I’m a valuable part of the team. A lot of times, my boss and I are on two different wavelengths - that’s because I think a lot faster, which can be frustrating for him sometimes. He doesn’t fully understand me, but that doesn’t mean I’m doing anything wrong.

October

I let go of an old friend.

This was especially hard, because I had known this person for years. We’d gone through a lot together, and we’d shared some really important and emotional story plots and characters. I had agonized over whether I was truly important to her or not. It didn’t matter how much I loved her as a friend, or how badly I wanted us to be close again and remain close. I had learned to read the universe’s signs, and it was clear it was time to move on.

November

The election happened.

I was expecting things to turn out badly, but I still hoped for something good. And then something good did happen. I cried watching Harris’ speech. I felt a tenuous hope that things might finally start looking up, societally. I still haven’t really let myself fully embrace that hope, but every time I see a court shoot down another lawsuit, or hear about trump’s own conservative republican supporters tell him, “Okay, buddy, it’s time to step down,” I feel a little better. 

M and I went non-monogamous.

There’s so much I want to say about this, but it’s for another post. Suffice it to say that like every other experience this year, it has been unexpectedly challenging and ultimately a catalyst for  priceless growth. I’m unfathomably grateful that we’re doing this together, for the things we’ve learned so far, and for how much closer this experience has made us, even when I didn’t think we could get any closer. 

Turns out I’m not gray-ace.

I had identified as such for a couple years, which was why we wanted to try non-monogamy in the first place. On the surface, it perfectly explained my sexual personality. But every time I told someone my identity, I felt inexplicably sad. When I read about others having “normal” sex drives and “normal” relations with their spouses, I felt jealous.

Turns out I’m just traumatized, lol. Walking along this non-mono path has unearthed a lot of things, including this gem.

December

This was our first married christmas in our new house.

One of the handful of good things the pandemic has done for me was allowing me to back up my boundaries with hard evidence. It’s been difficult dealing with my stepdad bullying me about not coming over for thanksgiving, and having my mom subtly guilt me into making plans for next year already. But what I needed this year was a quiet holiday, instead of the usual weeks-long chaos, and I got it. And it was fucking delightful. I’ve dreamed of days exactly like that one - spending a tranquil morning with my spouse, sipping coffee and listening to music and eating treats. Deciding exactly how we want our holidays to be, because we deserve to.

I’m scared of what’s to come in the new year. I’m still an anxious mess, and some days I’m not strong enough to pull myself out of the spirals I throw myself into. I’ve gotten used to the pandemic holding my hand, allowing me to shelter in my home, helping me enforce my boundaries, teaching me who I am. When it’s over, I don’t know what will happen or how I’ll react or what I’ll learn next. I’m not finished rebuilding, but I don’t think that’s the point. I’ll never be fully rebuilt. But at least I’m figuring out the new layout.

#personal #void-Avatar

[biorusted]

Precipice (Or: I could love you)

Out of the depths of my brine pool I come baring an actual, honest to God fanfic. And a smut one at that. 2020 is full of surprises.

Thank you @soulswimmr keeping my soul tethered to this mortal plane and for prof reading this fic.

Fandom: Satan and Me -- Pairing: GabeMike -- Words: 5510 (and no its not 10 pages of intercourse there are other things that happen)

If I had a AO3 account I would tag this fic as: Explicit! Panic attack tw, anxiety and depression tw, messy feelings, Hurt/Comfort, porn with plot, First times, cis gay sex, under negotiated kinks, (as in *slaps roof of fanfic* this baby can fit SO MUCH under negotiated kinks) light Bondage, light impact play, Dom/Sub tendencies, aftercare. yeehaw.

Summery: Michael accidentally confesses his love to Gabriel. Putting it lightly, it doesnt go well. But then Gabe shows up later that day and makes amends. (they boink)

Edit - 9/29 (michaelmas) Added a NSFW pic inspired by the fic (at the bottom)

Michael had no idea how he got here.

Well, no, of course he did; he was there when it happened. But to say that the day began with him nearly falling over the edge into despair to having Gabriel grinding up against him, pressing hot kisses to his neck and chest, toying with his body… well no one could have possible seen that coming. Except God, but he wasn’t really thinking of Him at this time.

Theres no way to track how This started. It could go back way before the Fall, to when Michael was first discovering that he liked Gabriel more than others. But that was normal, right? People had their favorites so why was this any different? Just because he leaned in closer whenever Gabriel spoke, or found him smiling like the sun whenever Gabe leaned up against him while they were on break, didn’t mean it was anything special. Besides, Gabriel had Anthea. Gabriel didn’t know he had Anthea at first, but Michael wasnt that blind. So he didn’t say anything to dissuade Gabriel from going after her. He didn’t encourage it either, though. Even after the Fall, he didn’t say anything, he himself just lost Lucifer so any chastising or encouragement would have been hypocritical, but eventually he’d thought that Gabriel would let go of her.

He never did though. And Michael never got rid of his feeling for Gabriel either. It grew, in fact. Slowly, like a vine coming around to choke the statues in the gardens, wholly unnoticed until there is nothing to do about it. Every laugh, ever tired roll of the eyes, every unexpected yawn would bring about a new leaf that would suffocate Michael if he wasn’t already doing everything he could to push his feelings down. He didn’t have time for whatever he felt for Gabriel. There were things to do on the surface, troops to train in Heaven and he, being the one on the pedestal, had to be perfect. And feelings were messy.

The point is, as much as he wanted to run his fingers through Gabriel’s curly red hair and kiss him on warm summer nights, he couldn’t do it. Would never do it.

And then the prophecy child came along. The end officially started, Michael got stabbed by his sister, contracted to a human, poisoned by his brother, sold off as a bartering chip to War, lost his physician, pulled some strings and brought a spirit back to earth, pulled some more strings to keep Gabriel from getting to irreversible trouble (but still had him sent to the tank for two weeks), finally saw God after years of radio silence, met his literal doppelganger, got formerly-mentioned-brother’s wings sent to him as sick gift and, quite frankly, was at the end of his rope. Everything was just happening too fast and no one seemed to care. The air was tight whenever he was with the other Archangels. It felt like he didn’t really know any of them anymore. Not even Gabriel, though his heart begged for that not to be the case.

Oh, right. Anthea had also died. So there’s that too. See? Messy.

All of that was basically to say, that when Gabriel made the snide comment that he, Michael, couldn’t possible know what it was like to truly love someone other than himself (which wasn’t even true, Michael did, in fact, hate himself immensely) Michael wasn’t planning to confirm or deny it.  However, after the initial shock – Did Gabriel really think him that heartless? – and feeling everyone’s eyes on him – all the other archangels were in the room, plus some other guards – he did answer. It came out like a holy confession, a whisper accompanied by searing hot tears.

I love you. He said.

Michael couldn’t breathe in the silence that followed, which made Gabriel’s laugh, a cruel sounding thing, even harder to take. Michael choked on air and when Gabriel turned to leave, but when he made to follow, maybe to explain himself more? To apologize? Anything but be alone with his thoughts or worse, alone in a room full of people, Gabriel slapped him.

Gabriel said something to him, but he didn’t catch it. All he felt was stinging on his cheek and embarrassment crushing his chest. Michael didn’t know how long he stood there, cradling his face and trying to think, but not comprehending anything around him, but eventually his brain caught up and he realized he did not want to be in that room right then. So, he ran.

--

Raphael had taught him some breathing techniques to help with panic attacks, but he couldn’t remember them. He guessed he actually had to breathe for them, which he wasn’t doing. All he was doing was sitting in a ball on the floor of his room trying to crush his feeling out. How typical of him, really, to fuck everything up. Now what? He had just cut ties with the only other person he felt a true connection with and now he was well and truly going to die lonely when The End came. That was always the plan; a murder suicide with Lucifer, but he’d thought there would be some pride when he went? Someone who he was fighting for? He didn’t know. He did know it was all his fault. Everything was his fault, no matter who he assigned blame to.

When he finally stopped crying, Michael sat very still. The apathy that came after such a strong release was always welcome. He breathed. And then he got up, washed his face and then went to his personal office to get some work done. He was nothing if not a good angel. Perfect in the eyes of the public.

Numb to everything that wasn’t directly in front of him, Michael actually got a lot done. The shuffling of paper and scratching of his pen was a pleasant relief compared to the chaos of his own thoughts that he was used to. He didn’t even hear the door to his office open, didn’t feel the presence of someone else in the room until they came to where he was organizing paperwork into the proper bins and gently grabbed both of his arms.

Oh, Michael could recognize Gabriel’s hands anywhere. They were hands he trusted completely with everything from a nice manicure to executing an offender of the faith. The only problem was he didn’t know what Gabriel was going to do with those hands. So, he stood completely still at Gabriel’s mercy for the second time that day.

“Turn around.” Gabriel said, taking the rest of the files from Michael and tossing them out of reach. Michael couldn’t discern anything from his voice, really only comprehending that he was very close to his ears, so, he did what he was told.

“Look at me.” he said next, as Michael found the trinkets on his desk a better study. When he didn’t listen, Gabe let go of the shelving he was pining him to and put one hand on the side of his face. It didn’t take a lot of pressure to tilt his head so their eyes met. It frightened Michael to see how stormy Gabriel’s eyes were. Dark, alluring, and troubled were not something he’d normally say about Gabriel, but now only those words applied. There was something else too, his jaw was clenched, as if he were holding his tongue, or arguing with himself.

Michael never got the chance to ask about it, because Gabriel leaned in, parted his lips, closed his eyes and kissed him.  The fog of apathy flushed out of him immediately and he felt everything; the warmth of Gabe’s hands on his cheek, the way his other hand lifted from the table and came to rest on his waist, the smooth silk of his own clothes against his body, heat coming from everywhere and, oh lord, his lips. The clouds couldn’t compare to the softness of Gabe’s lips on his, he could spend an eternity in this moment and it would never be enough.

The kiss (they’re first kiss), of course, did not last an eternity. It was only when Gabe moved away from him that Michael realized he didn’t close his eyes, or move towards him or do… anything. Kisses always looked magnetic, so why didn’t it fix everything between them? Michael felt a knot forming in his stomach and it only grew heavier as Gabe opened his eyes to gauge his reaction.

They were still standing so close that their breaths were shared. So, Michael only had to whisper when he said;

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you want to?” Gabe quipped back, tilting his head to the side. He was being completely serious.

“Wh-What?” He really wished his eyes were the bright emerald green they were usually.

Gabe’s grip on Michael’s waist tightened and the storm behind his eyes grew. “Do you want to understand?”

Of course he did. His cheek still burned from where Gabe hit him and the shaking anxiety from his panic attack never left completely, if he understood then maybe they really could make this work. Whatever this could be. Or he could fuck it up.

“No.” He said, and closed the gap between them.

Almost immediately he was shoved back into the shelving with Gabe’s hands clawing at his skin and teeth biting his lips. Heat rushed through his entire body as Gabe pressed up against him, ground up against him leaving his full intent out into the open.

God, since when could he move like that? Michael thought as he opened his mouth and let Gabriel’s tongue meet his own. Gabe’s piercing clicked on his teeth, setting off another wave of heat down his spine. He’d always wondered what it would be like to feel Gabe’s piercing in his mouth. One of his own hands slipped behind Gabe’s chiton and laid flat against his chest while the other raked through his hair. He almost wished Gabriel hadn’t cut his hair short, he would have love to pull on the curls, but the deep moan that came out of him made up for it.

Gabriel’s tongue was on his lips, and then his lips were on his jaw, kissing a line up and then down his neck, Michael could barely catch his breath, the way he gasped at every press of his mouth on sensitive skin. Even when Gabe slowed down to focus on a spot at the base of his neck, Michael didn’t complain, especially as Gabe’s leg pressed in between his own. Michael didn’t realize how hot his body felt, certainly didn’t realize how hard he was, how hard both of them were, but it was all he could think about as Gabe’s hands slid lower and started groping his ass, gathering the fabric of his skirt between his fingers.

Humans always made this stuff look strange, Michael didn’t get all the moaning and begging and crying out. The ‘losing control’ part never made sense to him either, but there was nothing controlled about the sounds he made now; broken whispers begging to be understood as wanting more. He wanted more of this, whatever this ended up being and he wanted Gabriel there to guide him through it all.

Naturally, that’s when Gabriel pulled away. Michael didn’t think he could fall for him anymore, but the vines he always compared his love to bloomed in such a vivid way. The messed up hair, the dilated pupils, the reddened lips, the way he dragged his eyes down every inch of him; it could have destroyed him and made him whole all at once.

“Tonight.” Gabe said. “I’ll meet you in your room.” It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t a statement either.

“Yes.” He nodded, but when he felt Gabriel leaning away from him, asked “But why?”

He straightened himself up, making eye contact as he grazed his crotch and nodded towards his desk. “You still have work to do.”

--

The afternoon passed as quickly as he’d expected it to, which is not very quick at all. After getting himself fixed up, Michael found he could not possibly focus on anything other than events prior. It didn’t matter what he put in front of himself, all he could think about was how this whole thing wasn’t good. It’s exactly want he wanted in his deepest and most sinful dreams; a physical relationship with his millennia-long love—but he’d only let himself pin for a romantic one, chaste save for a few kisses. They both were angels after all. This… This wasn’t even love, he thought. Especially not in the way silence grew serious between them when they parted. Lovers didn’t do that… they talked at the very least.

No. This was lust. And he found that he was ok with it… he wanted to be ok with it.

Eventually he got up and left his office. The empty hallways of his home echoing his footsteps, he tried not to think about it. He paced around his room a bit, wishing Gabriel had been more exact about ‘tonight.’ Did he mean at sunset? Or closer to midnight? Were they just… going to get straight to it? Or… what? Was Michael expecting to be taken out on a date? Please. Gabe was probably just going to get off and then leave. He would be lucky if it was a mutual thing.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking. How would it happen? Was he expected to do anything? How did Gabriel know how to move his body like that? Eventually, just about when he thought he’d lose it, Michael caved and looked up what to expect.

The internet was, as usual, very helpful, but by the end of his searching his mind was even more frayed than before. He decided to take a shower. A long one just to calm himself down and … maybe to… test some of the things he read.

By the time Gabriel arrived, Michael had taken a long shower, dried and dressed himself and even put on what he hoped was subtle perfume and straightened up his room. Everything was, hopefully, perfect. He was halfway through setting up two glasses of wine --because he did keep wine in his room now-- when the knock came.

“Come in,” He said casually, almost forgetting the situation they were in.

He heard the door open and close, but there came no greeting, so when Michael turned around to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, he was surprised to find Gabriel outright staring at him. He looked the same as he did before, except now he carried a bag with him. Michael, however, did dress up. Or down. It depends on how you look at it. He still wore his chiton, but in a more traditional way that showed off more of his chest and thighs. He also wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

He swallowed and turned back to the wine, wishing his body didn’t blush so much under Gabriel’s intense stare. But he faced it again, this time with a bottle of wine in his hands.

“I thought that we could have a drink?” His voice faltered and he stood rather awkwardly and small.

That seemed to break Gabe out of his trance. He dropped off his bag on the bed and approached him with an even gaze. Stopping right in front of him, he took the bottle from his hands and set it down.

“No… No more wine.” He said in that deep tone that put butterflies in his stomach. Upon seeing his reaction, Gabe added, “I’d rather have you right now.”

And to that Michael could only say one thing.

“Please.”

--

And now here they were, Gabriel leaving bite marks and hickeys on his neck while he pushed up against him so that every nerve was on fire, begging for more. Michael twisted and strained on the ropes tying his wrists to the bedposts, trying to catch his breath. But whenever he did manage a moment clarity, Gabriel would do something else to make him jump and moan beneath him. He was playing with his nipples now and dragging his fingernails down his sides. He still hadn’t taken off his clothes yet, but by now they might as well be ruined, soaked through with each other’s sweat and precum. Michael moaned again as Gabe slapped his thighs, by now he wasn’t afraid of being loud, he wanted Gabe to know exactly what he felt.

“Please.” He begged again, not expecting an answer but praying for one anyway. His legs shook underneath Gabe’s firm hands as he kept them pressed to the bed, no matter how many times he coaxed Gabe forward, to rub their cocks together, for any friction at all, he still denied him.

“Please, what?” he said into his ear, “Aren’t I giving you everything you want?” The honey in his voice made Michael shiver.

“Yes, God yes! But please… fuck- please touch me. I need you.” He captured his lips again for a messy kiss.

Gabe pulled away. “Greedy, much?” He kissed a line down his body, then above his navel, “You really are a whore.”

Michael gasped as the sash at his hips was untied and thrown aside. His whole body throbbed with need at the silent promise. “Only for you.”

Gabe lifted the remaining fabric and breathed in the wet spot where his precum soaked through. “Is that so? All of this is for me?” He gently pulled the fabric away from his body, finally leaving Michael bare and spread wide for him. His dick fully erect, leaking and red, begging for release by any means.

Michael shifted under his gaze, looking down on him like he owned him. He only hoped he looked as beautifully desperate as Gabriel did. “Of course.”

Gabe nodded and took off the rest of his own clothes. His hands traveled up and down his glistening tan body, fulfilling a desire that Michael wished he could do instead. How many times had Michael wanted to run his fingers up and down the curves of Gabriel’s toned body? He couldn’t remember at that moment. If he didn’t like his wrists being tied up so much, he might have asked to be untied.

When he got to his dick though, he only traced light lines with his fingertips, moaning and biting his lips in pure ecstasy. It was a sight to behold, the lines of precum hanging on his fingers, the trail of ginger hair cropping his dick. ‘Heavenly’ could hardly cover it.

Michael let out a groan and Gabe stopped, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“My eyes are up here.”

“Fuck me already.”

That earned him another slap on the inside of his thighs, he bucked and noted the way his cock bounced in the air. Did everything have to be so erotic? Gabriel reached back to the bag he brought, the one that also had the rope, and pulled out a small bottle of lube and a condom. Now that they were on track, Gabe wasted no time in slicking his fingers up, propping up Michael’s legs and sliding said fingers up and down his ass, even grabbing his balls for good measure. Michael thought about biting into his own arm to stop from crying out too loud, but instead just lifted his legs higher. The house was empty anyway.

Gabe let out a satisfying hum and pressed a finger inside him. It felt as strange as it did when he practiced in the shower, but god was it so much better.

“Take deep breaths. I’m just stretching you out now.” He said, smiling to himself and kissing Michael’s calf. “It would be a shame if you finished now.”

“It wouldn’t be my fault. I didn’t know how much you liked teasing.” Or slapping or bondage or powerplay or literally anything. Then again, he himself didn’t realize how much he’d like those things too, much less being on the receiving end. He took a deep breath. And another. Then, the question that was haunting him slipped from his mouth. “How do you know how to do this?” he blurted out.

“Hm?” Gabriel looked away from him, suddenly abashed, as if he wasn’t massaging his asshole for his pleasure and use. “I uh. I watched some videos.”

And to that Michael laughed, more genuine than he had in a while.

“What?” Gabe took the opportunity to insert another finger, stopping his laughter with pain and pleasure. How cruel!

“Nothing! I just…” He turned his head to hide his face in is arms. “I watched some videos too.”

“Really?” The quality in his voice changed. It had been changing from when they made out in his office to now… it felt like they were talking normally with each other, like friends… or, well, like lovers. It helped that he was smiling now, not quite a joyful or mischievous smile, but a quaint one. As if they both were taking each other in with a new light.

“Yeah… I practiced some too.” He could share that, right?

“Oh… did you…?”

“No. I was… saving that for you.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, hiding his quiet delight behind adding in another finger inside of him.

They stayed like that for a while, Gabe stretching him out gently while Michael sighed and kept his breathing relaxed. Gabe never pushed his fingers in deep, even though Michael thrusted his thighs up, trying to convince Gabe to finger fuck him a little. After a few minutes, Michael was craving for something thicker and longer. Even so, he was not ready for how cold, empty and gapping he’d feel when Gabe’s fingers left him.

“Ready?” Gabe asked as he slid the condom on and poured more lube onto his hand. He bit his swollen lips and he slicked up his shaft; he wasn’t the only one that was denied.

“More than.” He angled himself up more and welcomed Gabe’s steady hand bracing on his red thighs. There was a moment of blissful silence as Gabe lined himself up, only broken by the feeling on his head pressing up against his hole and pushing in. They both moaned.

Gabe was gentle going in, pushing forward and pulling back bit by bit. His whole body jerked as he guessed his prostate was hit, he read that it felt like sparks shooting across the body and by God was that right. He rocked his hips up even harder now. Michael had never felt so full, never felt the need to be, but when Gabe bottomed out and rutted against his hips, he felt as if he’d need this the rest of his life. Is this what it felt like to be truly connected? To be full and content with your lover? It felt cheesy to even think, but he imagined soulmates felt like this.

Michael moaned even louder as Gabe pulled halfway out and slid down faster. Again and again he felt sparks as his lover’s wet hips slammed into his own. The noises they made were obscene and only made worse when Gabe leaned over him to get a better angle. Now he could feel Gabe’s hot breath on his face and see just how gone he was, which made the heat pooling in his own stomach twist and flood his senses. This was started to be too much.

“Touch me!” He begged, straining on his wrists again. “Oh, please I want to come. Please let me come.” He had to have this, he’d waited so long; Michael needed this.

“Oh fuck.” Gabe moaned and leaned down to bite at his neck once more. “Beg for me. I’m so close.”

“Please, Gabriel, I wanna… I wanna feel you come inside me, I want your hands pumping my dick until I scream. I want you. I need you Please. Please. Please!”

Michael’s breathy cries grew more erratic along with Gabriel’s pace. The wet slapping of skin filled the room until Gabe cried out and shook with his orgasm. Michael pushed up against him, writhing around his partner’s twitching cock, until Gabe collapsed onto him and gasping for breath, oversensitive and spent.

“Fuck.” He gasped as he lifted himself up and crashed his mouth on Michael’s. His lips screamed desperation. His hands trembled as he grabbed Michael’s cock and pumped at a horrifically fast pace. Michael gasped against his mouth and bucked, arching his back as much as he could. When his orgasm hit, he froze, coming quickly in Gabe’s hand before opening his eyes again and melting into the bed. Only then did Gabe slide out of him and collapse. He couldn’t breathe for a moment, and then the only thing he could do was breathe. His mind and body spent.

They laid together for a few minutes, Gabe resting on top of him, both of them basking in the afterglow. Michael felt sticky and sore and empty but didn’t feel like moving, and honestly, if they laid like that for the rest of the night, he would be completely fine with that.

As if reading his thoughts, Gabriel kissed his jaw and lifted himself up. How he went from blitzed out to composed Michael couldn’t guess, but he noted the way Gabe still trembled. “We should… clean up.” He emphasized this by taking his hand—still covered in Michael’s cum – and dragged his tongue up his index finger. He made a face and shrugged, “It doesn’t taste that good.”

Michael huffed. “I’m sorry I’m not made of sugar.”

“Hm. But those noises you made were so sweet.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Untie me, please.” He didn’t thing he could play anymore games.

“Just a second.” He peeled off the condom and made to get off the bed.

“Where are you going?” A bolt of dread shot up his spine; he wasn’t leaving, was he? Not tied up to the bed and out in the open?

“Bathroom, Michael. Getting a towel and washing my hands. Also, you’re sticky.”

“And whose fault is that?” he tried shove his anxiety back into its box.

He didn’t get a reply, just a hum and a good view of Gabe’s back side as he walked to the room adjacent and cleaned himself up. He wasn’t even out of sight, keeping the bathroom door wide open, but Michael still felt tendrils of doubt writhe in his chest.

He put on a smile as he walked back holding two warm towelette—because yes, Michael had towelettes on hand. They’re nice to have— He was still surprised when Gabriel cleaned him instead of just untying his wrists and letting him handle his own ‘sticky’ body. Somehow this seemed more intimate than what they just finished doing, especially how gentle Gabe lifted his legs to get a better angle. The warm towel felt wonderful on his abused butt and dick, more so than he thought it would. After getting his lower half he used the other towelette to press on his neck, which had much the same effect. Michael didn’t think that a warm towelette would make the deep bite marks and bruises heal right away, but it was like a gentle kiss. He didn’t think Gabe would be so kind to him.

“Whats wrong, Michael?” Gabe’s calm voice cut through the silence. He didn’t meet his eyes as he asked.

What should he say to that? Everything was wrong, they just—they just had sex! They didn’t even talk about it before hand they just… did it! And this morning he was pretty sure Gabe hated him and Michael… he didn’t know what he wanted to do with anything. No one could find out, he was sure of that… but did that mean he had to forget this whole night happened? All in all his life was falling apart! He didn’t want to push his last lifeline away.

“I’m fine.” He smiled. He tried not to panic as the mood shifted over Gabriel. He could see the clouds over his eyes again. Shit shit shit of course he’d ruin it. “I-“ He started, frantically thinking about what would make this right. “I just want you to stay.” Pathetic.

That seemed to work, though it hurt to say, but he didn’t get an answer right away. Instead, Gabe moved up to his arms and finally undid the rope. Michael hissed as he moved his freed wrists again.

“Oh, I brought something for that.” Gabe said, reaching for his bag once again. He produced a bottle of lotion and applied some to his hands before taking one of Michael’s and massaging it. It felt good, though much like the towel still at his neck, he didn’t think it would do much. They fell into a lull again. Michael felt as if he could fall sleep, if not for the unanswered question weighing on his mind.

“What do you want to do with the cover?”

“Hm?”

“The duvet is… wet.”

“Oh… just throw it to the ground, I’ll clean it tomorrow.” Or he’ll just burn it, whatever.

“Ok.” Gabe let go of his hands and began to pull back the blanket beneath them. Ideally, they should have taken it off beforehand, but they weren’t really thinking logically then, just about how to make each other shake with pleasure. Michael sat up and helped kick the thick blanket to the ground. His ass hurt and his whole body was sore, scratched up and bruised, but at least he was clean-ish. He had honestly never felt so… exhausted before. Satisfied but still so wanting. Maybe he was a selfish whore. He pulled back more blankets from the front of the bed and crawled underneath him, not caring to put on clothes or turn off the dim lights still illuminating his room.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the heaviness he felt all around him versus the sounds of Gabriel sliding off the bed and walking away. It didn’t really work, he still felt hot tears behind his eyes and tried biting the inside of his lip to keep from making noise. If Gabriel wanted to leave, then who was he to stop him? He knew this wasn’t good. He should be happy that he got to have sex with him at all. A check off the bucket list and all that.

But he didn’t leave. Michaels eyes snaped open as he felt a thumb wipe away his tears. Gabe was hovering above him, looking somewhere between tired and concerned; he’d just turn off the lights. Michael wanted to laugh because of how ridiculous he was being. Or cry.

But he didn’t. He shifted over and let Gabriel slide under the covers with him. It was awkward, they were both naked and wasn’t sure how get comfortable like this, but they soon settled down where Michael was laying on Gabe’s chest and they were tracing shapes on each other’s arms.

He was about to drift off when Gabe muttered, half to himself, “I could love you.”

That didn’t feel as bad as it could to Michael. “That’s all I need.” His words slurred together before he dropped into darkness. He’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.

--

Gabriel didn’t know why he did this anymore than Michael probably did. All Gabe wanted was a release, something he thought he could only have with Anthea. A stress reliever, maybe. A good fuck before the world went to shit. He tried to ignore the darker thoughts he had that day, where he pushed Michael over the edge and left him to shatter on the ground. Or the ones where he’d hurt Michael outright to finally get across all of the hurt he’d experienced at his now-lover’s hands. But there was something—a spark? – when they kissed, and a shift when they actually talked to each other. No masks, no pretenses. Just feelings; whatever they happened to be.

And Gabe remembered how Michael used to be. Fun, genuine, loving. He remembered the quiet nights where they watched the sky and how Michael would, very obviously, check him out. The way he always seemed to prefer either him or Lucifer. This whole thing was ridiculous; of course Michael loved him, it was so obvious. So why did Gabe react like that this morning? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it anymore than he already had.

Gabe wasn’t lying when he said he could love him, but he wouldn’t lie and say that he loved him now. His heart was recently broken and, the tattoo of Anthea’s name was barely over a month old. Before today, he believed it too soon for anything new. Obviously, another part of him disagreed, but he would save those thoughts for another time. Gabriel kissed Michael’s head and fell asleep with him in his arms. He’ll have to see what the next day brought.

____

a doodle:

#satan and me #naughtysam #gabemike #my writing #dam im proud of this #i actually wrote a boink #huh #miracles do happen

[carolinesbookworld]

tagged by @kabeswaters and @swellwriting <3

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? 0

describe yourself in a hashtag? very similar to @fortisfiliae #stressedanddepressed

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? Harrison Osterfield

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? prepare for disaster

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? um...idk my boyfriend knows basically everything about me sooooooo

what’s your wake up ritual? wake up, turn off alarm (bc with this at-home learning stuff i’ve been waking up like literally 1 min before my alarm goes off???), text good morning to my bf, snapchat, discord bc moonlit fam talks allll night, tumblr, get out of bed, wash face, get dressed, coffee and breakfast it’s very specific

what’s your go to bed ritual? wash glasses and face bc my skin is soo oily by the end of the day so you best believe my glasses be needing washing everyday, shower, say goodnight to fam, text bf for like 15 mins or until he says goodnight, turn alarm on, plug in phone, go to sleep

what’s your favorite time of day? morning but specifically from 7:30 until 9  

your go to for having a good laugh? FRIENDS as in the show

dream country to visit? Australia bc my dad once got to hold a baby koala there and i wanna do that so bad

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? so my family moved before my sophomore year so me and my bff started trying to surprise each other whenever one of us came to visit and the weekend of my birthday, she skypes me as she’s walking around what i thought was her house and then i start hearing an echo and next thing i know she’s standing in the doorway of my room and that was pretty much the best surprise ever

heels or flats/sneakers? sneakers converse

vintage or new? new but i love vintage aesthetic i just couldn’t live with it

who do you want to write your obituary? karli @swellwriting bc she is my brain twin and i would be mocking her horrible grammar and spelling from my grave and we would both get a good laugh about it in the afterlife

style icon? the mom i babysit for haha she’s like one of my best friends tho which sounds really weird but it’s true

what are three things you cannot live without? books, dogs, days that are exactly 65 degrees

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? um idk chocolate??

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? Sarah J. Maas, Eddie Redmayne, my boyfriend bc i haven’t had dinner with him for 47 days

what’s your biggest fear in life? losing the people i love...and spiders

window or aisle seat? window bc aisle makes me anxious that i’m in people’s way

what’s your current tv obsession? the cw’s nancy drew it’s so good please go watch it

favorite app? instagram, discord, or tumblr, depends on my mood

secret talent? um idk i can draw very realistic portraits of people when i take the time to

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? okay so technically this wasn’t me who did it but i was part of the adventure. when me and my boyfriend were just “friends” ie. liked each other and knew we liked each other but were too scared to admit it. anyway, we had this elaborate plan to shave our youth group leader’s head if we were able to bring in a certain amount of food for the food drive during vbs week. so yeah we spent like three days planning the whole thing out and then decided to go price shopping at walmart with all of our younger siblings bc we needed supervision or something lol to see how many individual things of food we could buy with $20 each we ended up just getting like 20 huge boxes of ramen and then his sister ended up throwing up so we took her home and then went back to church where my car was parked but instead of turning to get to church my boyfriend decides to go straight through the stop light (it was green okay) and spontaneously drive up into the foothills. well we get to the top of the foothills and we’re at the lake and we all get out to look at the city and my boyfriend claims that we need to document this moment so he takes a selfie with all of us and we somehow ended up right next to each other in it and i only found this out like three months ago (this happened back in june) that he only took the picture because he wanted one of us together in case we didn’t start dating lol so sweet and yeah, that was a very long story but i needed context instead of just saying “yeah we drove up a mountain”

how would you define yourself in three words? loyal, anxious, passionate

favorite piece of clothing you own? this dark coral dress that makes my eyes and hair look really pretty

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? a hoodie

a superpower you would want? i want to be able to project my thoughts into someone else’s mind bc i’m so bad at explaining stuff sometimes especially when it comes to how i feel

what’s inspiring you in life right now? ACOTAR series by Sarah J. Maas, highly recommend

best piece of advice you’ve received? opening up to more than one person is important because if you lose that person then you’ve lost all your support

best advice you’d give your teenage self? the friends who have stuck around this long are the ones you want to hang onto and the ones that you need are the ones you don’t always see

a book everyone should read? The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

what would you like to be remembered for? being a crazy dog mama

how do you define beauty? confidence in yourself and not caring what others think about you

what do you love most about your body? my metabolism

best way to take a rest/decompress? open a window to feel the breeze and listen to Islands by Hey Ocean! which is so calming to me

favorite place to view art? nature or tumblr

if your life was a song, what would the title be? we’re going with a fob/p!atd theme here and calling it “depression screwed me over so i screwed it back and ended up worse off”

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? probably on my forearm or by my left hip

dolphins or koalas? koalas did i mention that i want to hold a baby koala

what’s an animal that represents you? great dane puppy ie. very excitable but will also take a four hour nap when tired

best gift you’ve ever received? my best friend made this photo collage for me when i moved that is hanging in my room and it has a bunch of pictures of me and her over the years and i just love it

best gift you’ve given? for christmas i gave my boyfriend a hammock and the bookshelf addition of clue, two things he had no idea i would remember him mentioning and his face was priceless. also i made my mom a cake for her birthday this year and she was so happy and said it made her feel very special <3

what’s your favorite board game? clue or ticket to ride (specifically nordic countries)

what’s your favorite color? currently a pale turquoise

least favorite color? any shade of light brown

diamond or pearls? diamonds

drugstore makeup or designer? drugstore bc i don’t wear makeup enough to validate buying designer, also i don’t really care

pilates or yoga? yoga

coffee or tea? coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee cof-

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? palindrome is wild because it means a word spelled the same way forwards and backwards but it itself is not one such word

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? milk

stairs or elevators? stairs

summer or winter? summer but like, only june

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? panera mac n cheese

a dessert you don’t like? red velvet cake which btw is not red-colored chocolate cake as many would have you believe

a skill you’re working on mastering? writing

best thing to happen to you today? i got to put all of my new plants in my windowsill and i named one of them (its name is albert in case you were wondering)

worst thing to happen to you today? idk today’s been pretty good as far as quarantine goes

best compliment you’ve ever received? my boyfriend calls me beautiful all the time and he always reminds me that that is describing looks and personality

favorite smell? coffee or my boyfriend’s sweatshirt for the week after i steal it

hugs or kisses? can i choose both?? depends on my mood mostly but i guess hugs if i just had to pick one

if you made a documentary, would it be about? literally anything relating to the mcu

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? a court of wings and ruin by sjm

lipstick or lipgloss? lipstick

sweet or savory? sweet

girl crush? literally any female in the teen wolf cast

how do you know you’re in love? hahahaha haha what's love

a song you can listen to on repeat? we fall apart by we as human or uma thurman by fob

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? idk my boyfriend probably, this is something we have discussed in depth

what are you most excited for/about this time in your life? for life to go back to normal

tagging @finnofamerica @woakiees @beskarjedi @outerlacy @swanimagines hahahahaha have funnnnn this took me an hour to answer

#about me #tag game

[90363462]

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7 Mothers Share Their Postpartum Sex Experiences

Spoiler alert: It's not all bad.

Kiarra Sylvester

May. 02, 2022 05:05PM EST

Because I’m not having sex, I haven’t given much thought to how sex after I deliver my little seed will be. Out of sight, out of mind, ya know? It wasn't until a friend randomly reached out to me, more excited for the postpartum sex that stood ahead of me than I knew to be possible. I was curious, to say the least. Where was this burst of energy for my postpartum sex life coming from? Apparently, she had just had mind-blowing sex with her man but this wasn’t the first time she mentioned this – she had once shared the exhilaration she felt during sex in a normal girl chat. But I wasn’t pregnant then so I hadn’t thought much of it. 

However, this time around, my brain was most definitely activated. The one thing that stood out to me was the pleasure she seemed to derive from her postpartum sex life! Mostly, because this had been so unheard of. Perhaps it’s because I didn’t care to speak to my mother in-depth prior to my own little seed being implanted in me. Nevertheless, I had only ever heard of negative postpartum sex experiences. Women went from being the top-flight security, maintaining the secrecy of the motherhood journey, not speaking of anything but the joy of baby and baby alone to now, where we’ve seen a shift in women trying to sprinkle some realness in the mix – warning us of the potential woes of motherhood. 

I mention this because motherhood has become saturated with changing the narrative to a more realistic one and, in turn, it can induce more fear than not knowing. It seems once we were released from the shackles of silence, it turned out that everyone was experiencing ass tears and postpartum depression, and if you’re a Black woman, you might not even live to tell about any of those experiences. 

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I guess what I’m saying was it was refreshing to have someone share a positive about giving birth to a child – one that I most definitely value and one that skews the narrative to remind us that in all actuality: every experience is different! And in us trying to make up for the myths of motherhood being all peachy keen, we’ve forgotten what balance looks like – going from sunshine and roses to hellfire and misery.

As far as the sex component goes, we have truly only ever heard the bottom of the barrel! Men talking about how "loose" women allegedly are after having a child and TikTok highlighting the potential for what is known as a husband stitch, which ensures you go back to maximum tightness after tearing. (Also, unethical to perform without patient permission apparently). 

Nevertheless, it made me curious to speak with other women about their postpartum sex experience and I was happy to find that there were more women out there who were experiencing good sex, and for various reasons! Here’s what 8 women had to say about postpartum sex.

Sex was different... in the best way possible.

"I have to say I didn't have the confidence or drive to have sex immediately after a vaginal birth (both times). But [around four to six] weeks after, sex for me was way better than before having a baby. It felt more intimate, more connected, and somewhat special to be having sex so soon after having a baby. Not many women talk about this, do they? But I don't think it's a big secret personally. Every woman has a different experience, and for me, it was good." 

– Sophie

i.gifer.com

I'm more in tune with my body more than I've ever been.

“I'm a mom of two with my youngest being four months old. My postpartum sex experience has been amazing. I opted for a natural birth with a midwife and doula as a result my recovery was really quick. Since giving birth I've been really in tune with my body and been wowed at what a woman's body is able to do. I wouldn't describe myself as a very sexual person but since giving birth, my desire to have sex and my natural lubrication has increased tremendously.

"I've also been taking ashwagandha and maca root to support my breastfeeding journey. An added benefit [of taking them] was increased libido [and] not just around the ovulation period. My husband is very happy, to say the least.”

– Jasmine

Sex after delivery helped with my PPD.

“I have two young children under the age of eight years old and I could certainly say right away that postpartum sex is by far much much better than sex prior to having children for several reasons. Not only has perhaps my confidence elevated, but most importantly, it’s also much less tricky in terms of stimulation. In addition, it is much easier to switch positions and perform the act as there is rarely if ever any discomfort due to that tightness perhaps felt in the beginning. Sex after delivery was also very beneficial as I suffered from PPD for a couple of months after my first delivery. Sex in a way was perhaps a reward for that after waiting six weeks after giving birth.”

– Vanessa

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It was the last piece of intimacy we had been missing.

"I had a C-section so I was told to wait at least six weeks before having sex. I feel like the wait time just added to the anticipation and excitement. The postpartum period is obviously crazy with a newborn and the lack of sleep for the first month or so (sex was the last thing on my mind). However, as the weeks went on and we spent time in our own little bubble with this perfect little person we created, the feelings started creeping up again. I feel like you just fall deeper in love when you see your man taking care of and loving your tiny human. It's next-level sexy! I couldn't wait to show him just how much. We were literally counting down the days until the mandatory six weeks were up. 

"All that waiting makes it almost as exciting as the first time again. We went all out and set up a special date night with dinner, wine, and new lingerie, the works! In one word: fireworks! It was perfect! It was that one piece of intimacy we had been missing and we held on to each other long after it was over. I think it's important to talk to your partner and make sure you're both on the same page. I expressed my concerns about possible pain (and hormones and dealing with this new postpartum body that I wasn't used to) so we took things slow and he checked with me throughout to make sure I was okay. All in all, it was a wonderful experience that actually made me feel sexy again.” 

– Cendu

Postpartum sex wasn't different for me physically, but it was emotionally.

“I want to start by saying that my daughters are now 17 and 20; both were vaginal births. I think that once the initial trepidation passed — meaning, the 'first-time sex' after the six-week follow-up and the all-clear from my doctor — postpartum sex wasn’t noticeably 'better.' It wasn’t worse, either. If anything, what made it great was knowing I had bounced back and everything was indeed okay. There is a HUGE amount of concern over not just your own desirability as a new mom because your body has changed so much, but you worry that it’ll hurt, or you won’t feel things as you did before. You also worry about what your partner will be thinking, especially if they were in the delivery room. 

"It sounds silly, but that was something I thought about. My husband had seen all manner of things during the delivery (including poop because let’s face it, that’s really common during vaginal births) so as a new mom facing sex again, you struggle with knowing this person saw you at one of the most vulnerable moments imaginable. So naturally, you worry they’re thinking about that the first time you have sex after giving birth… or at least I did. The relief that came after that first time back in the saddle — it was palpable, at least for me. I think, too, that while postpartum sex didn’t feel better physically, it was better emotionally — it was almost like our bond was stronger if that makes sense? That’s what made postpartum sex amazing.” 

– Alison

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My story: Having sex for the first time post-partum | Tommy's ›

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[baek-byunies]

love me tender | a kyungsoo drabble;

romance, kyungsoo + reader, saying goodbye.

a/n: this is a gift to dia, @kyungseokie. it’s very simple and not exactly a birthday drabble, but it’s something i’ve been thinking about for a while; i thought maybe giving you a somewhat proper goodbye to ksoo would work as nice gift. it’s also my first time ever posting any of my works here, but you deserve it. so, here it is. i’m sorry if it’s a bit sad, lmao. happy birthday bby, i love you.

also tagging @yeoldotcom (thanks for the support, bubs).

On busy days like this, you’d usually forget about it. To be quite honest, you were used to the idea of farewells by now. For almost three years, you often had to watch him walk out the door and not come back for months. After the first time, you’d realized that would be your routine as a couple; he’d be travelling around the world, doing what the loved, and you’d be waiting for him to return, trying to keep yourself occupied so time would fly by faster. Spending your days away from him wasn’t an easy task - not at all, and some nights were rougher than others, but if that’s what it took for you to be together, then you’d try and accept it as happily as you could.

Nevertheless, on this particular saturday night, with problems from work still weighing down on your tired mind, you caught yourself swallowing an annoying, bitter bulge that quickly made its way up inside your throat after glancing at the bright screen of your cell phone. As you drove yourself back home, the device vibrated against the leather seat beside you to show a new incoming message: “okay, i’ll be waiting for you. come back safely”. Right above it, big white letters made sure to indicate the undeniable truth: July 29th, 2019. You had less than 48 hours together before bidding farewells once again. It was never easy to go through the exact moment of saying goodbye to the love of your life; the last kiss, the teary eyes, the click of the door knob and the suffocating pain that bruised against your rib cage during the first hours, but you had seen it happen enough times for you to make peace with its inevitability. This time, however, when you remembered what saying goodbye would really mean, all you could feel was a growing helplessness inside your chest. This time, you couldn’t control the despair that creeped its way inside your brain. This time, you weren’t ready at all. 

Two years. Not two weeks of promotions, not two months of touring. Two whole years. 24 months of his absence. Uncountable days of living without his fingers between yours, without staring at his shy sleepy eyes under the darkness of your shared bedroom, his arms around your waist, his warm skin against yours; without his soothing voice and caring words calming down your loud chaotic mind; without him throwing his head back to giggle at anything stupid you’d say just to watch your favorite open smile across his lips. You’d miss everything. Even the tiniest little things. Even his short temper, his quietness, his moody good mornings before coffee, his overly honest opinions, how he’d whine until you left the kitchen and let him cook in peace. 

It took you a few minutes to finally leave your car after already parking it on your apartment’s spot, holding the steering wheel a bit too tight and brainstorming on how to act normally around him and not burden his already busy mind with your depressing thoughts. He needed you, among all people, to respect and support his decision, and you’d been trying your best to show him that you did. It was the most difficult thing you had to come to terms with in your entire life, but you had to be the one to hold his hand and stand by him until the last minute without falter. You knew it was as hard for him to leave you as it was for you to watch him go.

The soft sound of the elevator landing on your floor was the only thing that managed to wake you up from your trance. Taking a step out of its steel walls, you inhaled a great amount of the hallway’s cold air. Although the only thing you needed to soothe your already aching heart was him, deep down your core you knew you were unconsciously postponing this moment; it’d mean you were closer to being with him for the last time. You couldn’t lie, you were afraid. Frightened. But you couldn’t let yourself waste any more seconds you’d regret not being by his side in the future. Realizing you somehow already had your keys against your palm, you faintly knocked on your shared apartment’s door to announce your arrival before unlocking and opening it.

“Honey?” closing the door behind you and entering the living room’s cozy atmosphere, you were immediately welcomed by his deep voice emerging from further inside the apartment. While your fingers already engaged on unlacing your pair of boots, you heard his light footsteps making their way towards you. “Welcome home.” As you kicked your shoes to the nearest corner, you lifted your eyes for your vision field to be filled with an approaching Kyungsoo and his sweet small smile. Affectionately staring down at you and taking a final step closer until you were a breath away from each other, he slid his hands under your coat, from your clothed collarbones to your shoulders, to gently take the garment off.

“Hello.” You whispered, your tone an octave weaker than expected, not wasting any minute on sneaking your arms around his torso and pinning your chest against his, deeply sighing against the woody scent of his perfume sprayed black sweater. After placing your coat on the wall hanger, he softly ran his palms against your back, stroking it tenderly while showering your forehead with light pecks. 

“Long day?” he asked, a soft chuckle vibrating off his ribcage as you weighed your tired body against his, snuggling your face against the crook of his neck and nodding discreetly. You couldn’t help but comfortably closing your eyes to his long awaited touch, focusing on absorbing the warmth that emanated from his bare skin against your cheek. 

“I’m sorry I had to work today.” You muttered after a few seconds of silence, your words muffled against his throat. Feeling a deep long sigh fanning against the crown of your head, you prayed he hadn’t realized you tried your utmost to conceal the irrepressible melancholic voice tone that came off your lips. 

“It’s okay. We can still enjoy our day together.” Cradling you tightly between his arms, his lips found their way to your ear shell, ghosting over your skin as he whispered, “look at me.” You knew he was aware of you hiding your face from his attentive gaze. You knew he could read through the veiled sadness in your eyes like an open book, as he would never fail to do, and you couldn’t let him. Not today. You tried your best not to think about how that would be the beginning of your last hours with him, but you couldn’t ignore the ticking clock inside your brain. And the last thing you wanted was to envenom him with your anxiety and sorrow. Leaning an inch away, he dragged his hands upwards from your waist, cupping your cheeks as he ever so lightly kissed your closed lids. “I have a surprise for you.” As he grabbed on one of your hands to take a step back and lead you along the corridor, you opened your eyes to his dark irises staring fondly at you. “Aren’t you curious?” He had nothing but a pleased, teasing smirk splattered across his heart-shaped lips; no sadness, no regret. 

“What do you mean a surprise?” You found yourself already inevitably smiling back, letting yourself be dragged by him. You could never resist the way his eyes would soften under half-moon lids as his smile grew wider, just like it was right now. As both of you turned around the end of the entrance corridor, he let you take the first step inside the living room ahead of him, lacing his arms around your waist as his body pressed against your back. 

“Kyungsoo-” You were not sure how you were expecting to spend that night with him, a little insecure about how you’d act around each other on your last couple days together, but you were definitely not expecting that. Your once almost unused dinner table adorned with the fanciest porcelain dish set you had stored in the depths of your cabinets, a crystal jar filled with freshly picked looking tulips and orchids on all shades of white and lilac, all glistening under the dim lights coming from a pair of silver candlesticks you had certainly never seen before. 

“I know we’ve been a little busy lately, and I feel like it’s been a while since I’ve cooked you something special... so I thought I’d make it a little fancier tonight.” His low-pitched voice reverberated against your ear lobe, and you could feel his lips shaped on a satisfied smile as they traced lazy little moistened kisses across the corner of your jawline.

“When did you get all that?” You spun on your feet to face him, the sparkles deep inside your dilated pupils dragging the corners of his mouth even further upwards. 

“Today, actually.” He answered, already leading you towards the table with a hand firmly against the small of your back. 

“You could’ve told me! I would’ve helped you get everything.” As you approached the only source of light in the room besides the stars and moon outside the glass walls, you realized your glasses were already half filled with a sweet smelling crimson liquid, and behind the flower jar, stood your favorite bottle of red wine. 

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?” Kyungsoo helped you sit on one of the two wooden chairs and you couldn’t help but giggle at his chivalry. He’d always been the kind of person to express his feelings through actions rather than words, and scared you’d shy him away, you’d always quietly enjoy his little caring gestures every now and then. Whether it was humming your favorite songs in your ear until you finally fell asleep on your worst insomniac nights, coming home from a tiring rehearsal day with a handful of your favorite cheap chocolates and ready to watch the cringiest dramas to brighten up your mood or quietly listening to you cry in his arms, holding you as if he’d never let go, he’d never fail to show you he’d be there to take care of you. But you weren’t expecting him to go that far today.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Coming back from the kitchen with a porcelain bowl on his hands, Kyungsoo carefully placed it on the table, right between your plates. With white twirls of steam still coming off the red sauce covered dish, your nostrils were immediately filled the sweet smell of freshly cooked tomatoes. “Your favorite.” He murmured, sitting across from you. 

With a gasp, you finally recognized the dish as Kyungsoo stirred it inside the bowl before serving you a couple spoonfuls. “Gnocchi! I thought you’d never give it a try just because of how much I used to nag you about it.” Laughing at your words as he served himself, Kyungsoo shook his head in small movements.

“It’s not exactly the easiest recipe if you actually do it from scratch, but I tried my best.” Folding his arms against his chest and resting his elbows on the edge of the table, he stared anxiously at you, waiting on your verdict. Kyungsoo loved cooking, especially for his loved ones, and he was nothing less than great at it, but he‘d still watch you take the first bite off his every dish in seek of your approval. This time, of course, it wasn’t any different. 

“God-“ You started, slowly chewing on the soft potato dumplings, the sauce the right amount of salty and sweet taking over your taste buds. “It’s perfect.” Kyungsoo’s shoulders relaxed as he exhaled deeply, a genuine happy smile creeping its way along his lips. 

“I’m glad you like it.” Reaching for his cutlery, Kyungsoo suddenly stopped midway, getting up from his seat with a swift movement. “I was almost forgetting something.” He muttered to himself, your eyes following as he took quick steps across the room towards his beloved old fashioned record player, lowering down its tone arm to meet the vinyl. The room was immediately filled with the first song of your favorite jazz and blues compilation as Kyungsoo already made his way back to his seat. 

“You really thought this whole thing through, didn’t you?” You said under a chuckle, taking a sip of your wine glass. 

“Maybe I did.” He shrugged his shoulders, cocking an amused eyebrow at your smirk.

For about twenty to thirty minutes, you really did forget about everything. You were unconsciously entirely involved by how it felt to be around Kyungsoo and his light, familiar, comforting aura; how your heart was used to being filled with the warmth of his presence. He was unusually talkative that night, and you, being used to taking that role in your daily lives, settled with quietly listening as he told you about his little adventure to the flower shop and how the owner, “a very sweet old lady”, had helped him make a good choice that wouldn’t seem too cliché, because he knew “you hated clichés”, then about how hard it was for him to find an actually good recipe for your beloved gnocchi, and even harder finding that dish set his mother had given him a couple years ago, right after you had moved in together, kept in the darkest corner of your cabinets. 

You had both finished your second plates of the dish, laughing about how he had to run and turn off all the lights as he heard you knock on the door, when the first chords of a certain song started coming off from the speakers. Taking the last gulp from his glass of wine, he promptly stood from his seat, offering you a stretched out hand. 

“Kyungsoo, you know I can’t dance.” You huffed under a chuckle, already enlancing your fingers with his, nevertheless. It was your song, and you could never deny him that moment. The first song he had sang you under the moonlight, on your first date out in the open together. With his face constantly all over Seoul’s billboards, you never had much opportunities to go out on casual, normal dates. On that day, however, Kyungsoo had gotten fed up with being a prisoner to his own house, not able to show you what a beautiful night it was outside. After driving to the farthest public park possible, way past midnight, you had laid down on the cold, dew sprinkled grass, watching as the stars sparkled against the navy blue sky. ‘Can you sing for me?’ you had whispered against the silent night atmosphere, still too embarrassed about being this close to him, your connected hands between your bodies. Lowering his black face mask, he turned to lay on his side, silently waiting for you to do the same. You still remember the boiling anxiety that twirled your insides as you gathered all the courage inside your being to face him, his eyes not even a couple inches away from yours. With a sigh, he closed his lids to start slowly whispering the lyrics you’d never forget after that moment. ‘Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go’.

You couldn’t have stopped yourself from kissing him if you tried. 

“And you know I don’t care.” Flushing your body against his, his hands gently pressing down on your hips, you rolled your eyes at him before lacing your arms around his neck. You slowly swayed around the wooden floor with small carefree steps, Kyungsoo staring deeply inside your eyes as a smile took over his plump lips.

“What?” You questioned, self-consciously hiding your face with one hand as he chuckled, already taking your palm between his fingers to reveal your soft pink stained cheeks to his gaze. “My makeup is smudged.” You huffed, pouting at his insistent stare. 

“I just want to look at you. And that’s how I like you,” he said, lightly tucking a strand of wild uncombed hair behind your ear, “real, mine” cupping your cheeks, he placed a soft kiss right on your cupid’s bow, “always mine.” Burying your face against his chest, you could already feel that overwhelming flood of closeted emotions you so hard tried to keep at bay making its way up from your heavy lungs to your tightly shut throat and then finally to your burning eyelids. 

“Love me tender, love me sweet, tell me you’re mine… i’ll be yours through all the years, till the end of time.” His voice, his sweet, loving voice against your ear was the last straw. You could never resist it. It brought you the most unique, truthful feelings you had ever experienced, and god, maybe you’d probably miss it the most. 

“I don’t want you to go-“ you were already sobbing as your muffled words collided against his chest, ripping their way across your stinging voice chords. You really tried your best not to crumble down in front of him, holding it back until he would he out the door. You really did try. But it was impossible. “I can’t... live without you-” echoing your thoughts, you tightly grabbed on the cloth of his sweater, twisting it between your fingers. And you let yourself cry. With your forehead pinned against his chest, facing the floor, your uncontrollable tears fell harshly against the wood tiles. 

“Sshhh, it’s okay, look at me. Y/n, look at me.” Kyungsoo whispered, gently trying to lift your head while cupping your wet cheeks with his warm palms. “It’s okay, baby, I know… I know.” Leaning down to level your eyes, he showered your flushed face with the sweetest butterfly pecks. “We can do this.” He murmured against your ear shell, trying hard not to let his choked up voice win him over. “I love you so, so much.” Wiping away the waterfall like tears making their way down to your chin with his fingers and lips, Kyungsoo stared at your swollen, still closed red lids.

“Kyungsoo,” you heavily let out under strangled breaths, “I’m sorry, I really-” your trail of words were interrupted by a loud sob, and you had to concentrate on inhaling and exhaling deeply before thinking of saying anything else.

“It’s okay, my love. I know. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said, stroking your feverish cheeks softly, “you’ve been so strong for me throughout all this, haven’t you?” with your lips tightly between your teeth, you still tried to control your breathing, the tears now silently rolling down your face. “Can you look at me now? Please.” Feeling the pain in his voice, you finally did as he asked you, opening your lids to Kyungsoo’s own teary eyes glistening against the candle light. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could blurt out. It was all too much for you, and you were legitimately starting to think that maybe you weren’t strong enough to take everything at once. 

“It’s okay, baby. I feel the same. I’m gonna miss you so, so much. I’ll miss you more than anything. I’ll think about you every second of every hour of every day. Whenever you think of me, I’ll be thinking of you, and I guess that way we’ll be closer, right? Our hearts will never be apart.” He still had that soft smile lingering on his lips, that same smile you were sure you couldn’t live without. “I know it’s a long time, but it’s not forever. And I’ll still be there to love you when it’s all over.” His sweet loving words weren’t making the tears go away, but the sound of his tender, calming voice, was the only thing that helped control your hitched breathing. “I have something for you.” 

While still holding your face tightly, Kyungsoo used one hand to search for something in the front pocket of his dark jeans. Under the weak lights and with your blurred sight and dazed brain, you couldn’t recognize the black object between his fingers. 

“I’ve thought about this for a while. You know how I tend to overthink about important things.” Taking a deep, long sigh, Kyungsoo moistened his red stained lips before continuing. “And you know I’m fine with the whole duty thing. Although I… believe we can do this, I know two years is… a long time.“ Playing with the object between his digits, he finally gave your cheek a hesitant, final stroke to hold the thing between both of his palms. “I hope someday you’ll get used to being without me, ‘cause I want you to be okay. I want you to enjoy your life, especially when I’m not here. I don’t think I can make it through if I know you’re not happy.” 

You couldn’t think of anything to say, and to be honest, your dizzy mind wasn’t really following what he tried telling you. “What is it, Kyungsoo?” with shaky words, you focused on what he hid between his hands. With a nervous chuckle, he fidgetly engaged on working on the object. It was a small, very simple velvet bag, and while he managed to untie the petit lace around it, Kyungsoo inhaled heavily before speaking again. 

“As I’ve said… it’ll be a long wait for both of us. I won’t have much room to change my mind, but you’ll be out here, living. And all I want for you is... happiness.” Turning the tiny bag upside down over his shell-shaped hand, two thin silver rings fell with silent clinks on his palm. “I’ll understand if you ever feel the need to step away from this, or if you, one day, maybe realize you’re not feeling the same way you once felt. I hope you don’t, but…” with another anxious little laugh, he stared gently at your wide eyes. “So… this is a promise. My promise to you. My feelings won’t change. And I’m… asking you to wait for me.” Lifting his eyes from the rings on his hand, he looked up at you once again. 

“Kyungsoo,” you felt speechless. You felt too much at once. And you were drunk with so many emotions trying to fit inside your swollen heart at the same time and how your ribcage felt small around it, pressing against your lungs. “There’s no one else for me. I couldn’t get over you if I tried.” But as you looked at his wide almond eyes, most of all, you felt love. And you felt loved. “I love you. With everything I have. And the thought of going on with my life, any life without you, is suffocating. And that’s frightening. But not waiting for you is simply not an option. So that’s all I’ll be doing for the next two years. Wait for you.” With your trembly fingers, you tightly held his hands with yours, hiding the rings between your sweaty skins. “I’ll be right here when you come back.” 

With a gentle kiss over the crown of your head, Kyungsoo took your left hand with both of his, silently sliding one the silver rings, the one with a single, small diamond on top, along your ring finger. Letting you do the same to him, Kyungsoo kept his eyes locked to yours as you stared at the metal sparkling under the lights. 

For now, away from the world’s curious eyes, he enjoyed the new, light weight of the ring against his finger. “I’ll wear mine here, always,” he said, with a fist over his chest, “and I’ll never let go.” You simply nodded, feeling your eyes stinging against your blinking lids once again. “I’m yours.” He whispered against your ear, involving your body between his arms with a desperate, strong hold. With him gently swaying you to side to side, you stood there, connected, body and soul. With no haste, he placed long lasting soft kisses from your temple, to your closed lids, eyebrows and cheeks, finally lingering on your lips. Pinning your foreheads together, you both stared at each other. With an amused side smirk and a confinding tone, he murmured, “and if it helps you stop crying, there’s flan in the oven.”

#exo scenarios #exo imagines #exo fluff #do kyungsoo #kyungsoo scenarios #kyungsoo imagines #kyungsoo fluff #exo #exo fanfic #i dont even know how to tag stuff istg #anyways it doesnt matter #its a simple gift but i hope you like it :/ dsajkda and its sad omg im sorry i hope you dont feel bad after reading it ajsdjasjaaaa :/ #dia 🐝

[rainydawgradioblog]

a covidsation with august

Max Moore is a Vashon Island based artist, who just released stunningly ethereal album called Trust under the moniker August. Check it out-- ya won’t regret it! Thank you so much to Max for taking time to answer these questions and providing wonderful insight on this crisis and how we can all support each other!

Lola Gil: Tell me about your project. How long have you been making music (as August, or otherwise)? Which artists are you most inspired by? How would you describe your sound?

Max Moore: i started making music under the name august only this year ! for a long time i have been searching for a project and creative space that felt both personal and truthful, it just happened to all come together with the release of my ep, trust, in february ! i have released music under many other names over the years as i experimented and dipped my toes into different sounds and styles, my first releases on the internet were from when i was like, 12 !!! as far as musical heroes, the list is long but at the top would be arthur russell, bjork, brian wilson, arca, nick drake, sophie, elliott smith, autechre, harry nilsson, burial ... i really could go on forever. i think a lot of people try to hide their true influences but i feel there is something sexy about putting it all out there and referencing them as would an author, filmmaker, painter etc. my "sound" these days seems to be quite amorphous, it really is shifting from minute to minute. i would like to think it would sound like some amalgamation of the artists i listed earlier but it's hard for me to tell. 

LG: How long was the process of making and producing your most recent album, Trust? How do you feel now that it’s out? Are you planning on releasing any new music soon?

MM: the process was looooong, like really long. i didn't release any music "seriously" for 3 or 4 years ! trust came out of a sudden, brief moment of clarity and surrender, as cheesy as that sounds. i was able to overcome a lot of the blockages i face in my creative process and just assemble this thing, and it just fell together ! i had all of these bits and pieces and sketches and ideas that never fully developed into anything, so i decided to compile them into one continuous piece of music. i was really into this idea of sonic miniatures or vignettes, short and sweet but with a depth that's only barely touched upon before moving on to the next. it was so incredibly therapeutic and wonderful to put it out into the world, so much support from friends and peers all around me. for now i'm still incubating but am hoping to see new music taking form this year :)

LG: As an artist, how have you been affected by COVID-19? You mentioned you had a handful of shows cancelled-- what has your experience been/what are your thoughts towards live streaming?

MM: like many artists in the community, i had a good handful of shows, contracted work, etc. canceled as a result of the virus. i am lucky enough to be in a position currently where i did not have to take a significant financial hit due to this (i work a day job at a record store & cafe) but i know many artists who now are struggling to make rent and stay safe through this pandemic. i think live streaming is a beautiful and special way for artists to connect with fans, especially in a time like this ! but there are so many aspects to a real, alive, performance that just can't exist in that digital space. for example, making friends and connections, selling merch, interacting face to face with fans, etc. though there is something beautiful about people from around the world being able to tune in to a livestream and make song requests, leave a nice comment, confess their love lol

LG: Apart from August, have you been involved in any other creative projects recently?

MM: recently i have been moving into more sound design work ! i was recording and mixing sounds for a play that was to run in june i believe, which just today was postponed until next year. that was my first *official* sound design job, i was really looking forward to it :(

LG: How have you been personally affected by COVID? What has your quarantine experience been like so far? 

MM: aside from being out of work, and not being able to connect with friends, i feel very privileged as i am with my family, in my home. i have had a lot of time to do things that normally i am barely able to squeeze into my day like journaling, going for walks, extensive music writing sessions, playing video games. i think a lot of us are facing serious anxiety and depression right now, so i am really prioritizing my mental health, and making sure my friends and family are well. also, this new animal crossing game really could not have come at a better time, i don't know where i would be right now without it to be honest. 

LG: What music have you been listening to recently? What has been your go-to quarantine album/song?

MM: in any times of crisis, confusion, sadness, happiness, really in any time at all i always turn to the same album: arthur russell's 'world of echo'. to me it is the perfect record, i aspire to make music that makes me feel the way that album does. it is a great listen if you need some time to reflect, or need something reflected back at you ! another favorite right now is bo en, he's done some incredible video game soundtracks (i'm playing through one right now called 'pikuniku', soooo sweet) and just has the most brilliant ideas. ooo and alice coltrane !!! special music only right now.

LG: Were there any spring shows that you were particularly looking forward to that got cancelled?

MM: i have been waiting to see arca in seattle since i was a sophomore in high school, and she announced a tour only a few weeks before all of this went down ! hopefully there will be a rescheduled date that i will be able to attend ... fingers crossed

LG: How do you think the Seattle/greater Seattle area music scene is going to shift post-COVID?

MM: i think coming out of this time we will see an enormous influx of events as we all recognize how special and necessary these sorts of things are. i know i will be so grateful to be able to run around and dance and meet up with friends, all of that good stuff. i am hoping that we will not forget these times though and can sustain that excitement, we really will need it moving forward. there will be many more bumps in the road and we need to be prepared (as a community) to address them together !!!

LG: In this era of social distancing, how do you think artists can support each other during these weird and difficult times? How do you think social media is facilitating and/or inhibiting connection within Seattle’s creative community?

MM: luckily thanks to the internet there are SO many ways to support our artist friends, if anybody is unsure of how to do so please reach out to me or any other artist, they will be so happy you asked ! whenever i can i try to purchase merch, support on websites like bandcamp where money goes (for the most part) directly to artists, and promote + support bipoc, trans, & queer artists. it never hurts to reach out, connection is so important to sustain any way possible right now. i think social media can be dangerous as far as connection goes, but right now i am seeing a lot of openness and offering of resources as we all wake up every day into the reality that there is this crazy virus taking over !!!!!! the internet and technology are completely shifting the direction of art and community, in some good ways and in some bad ways. we need to remember that social media is a tool and a resource firstly, and also that the people who designed these apps we use purposefully made them addicting, mostly through analyzing our own data and habits ! my hope is that as our brains gradually begin to adjust to these new devices and systems, we can let go of some of the isolation and anxiety that they bring up in us.

-Lola Gil

[starsbythepocketfulll]

okay I’ve never really done one of these long heartfelt posts about taylor but I’ve had like three frozen rosés tonight so here goes

my mural game is strong this month and... SO AM I

the last couple years... man you guys, I've gone through it.  I was in a work situation that ultimately proved to be pretty toxic for me, despite me believing it was a “dream job.”  My depression skyrocketed.  A little before (right when I finished grad school) I got my ASD diagnosis, and so much Made Sense.  Like all the time spent being the odd one out, the weird kid, the girl with no one to sit with at lunch tables.  For my whole goddamn life. Why I reacted so negatively to changes, whether in my routines or overall in life.  My sensory issues, my extremely passionate special interests (like Taylor!! for YEARS!!), my hyper-empathy, my aversion to social situations.... all these made sense.  And once I figured out it was the ASD and had that confirmed for me, everything just made sense.  I was excited so I started sharing this with people, and some of them reacted negatively.  So I faced that discrimination, people thinking I couldn’t do things and limiting my potential, while also judging me when I needed certain accommodations.  Like, I couldn’t win.  It sucked so, so much.  I fell into the most awful depressive episode I’d ever experienced in my life.  This lasted for a couple years.  I’m so thankful for my friends, especially my incredible fiance, for helping me get through it.

And most of all, I’m so thankful I had @taylorswift to help me through that.  In the last couple years, when life was the worst--I’d been depressed, was literally “cancelled” professionally--I had reputation.  and oh god, I’d never related to something so hard in my life.  Except for each previous Taylor album.  Because the thing is, Tay is about 2.5 years older than me.  So by the time her music comes out, it’s always been representative of the exact period I’m going through in my life at the time.  Since debut, she’s been my big sister.  

My mom bought debut right when it came out and played it all the time.  I was trying so, so hard to fit in so I played it cool, because none of my peers thought Taylor was cool.  And then she performed “Love Story” on the CMAs, and I was officially HOOKED.  I literally was crying watching that on my living room TV as a high schooler and just ascended into heaven.  She just has this ability to capture what I can’t communicate (hello, social disability!) and put into words all the feelings I can’t articulate.  @taylorswift you, more than almost everyone I’ve ever met, have helped me feel less alone in this world, for which I’ll be forever grateful.  Like when taylor released “ME!” this year, it was right at the time i was recovering from this depression and coming back into myself.  That song became my musical mantra.  Taylor literally lent a hand in pulling me out of that pit.  And if I call my mom and I’m like, “I feel bad, my brain hurts,” she’s just like, “Girl, put ‘Shake it Off’ on and have a dance party!!! You’ll feel better!!!!” And it always works.  Whether I’m sad and lonely and confused or happy and free, Taylor’s music is ALWAYS there for me.  As an autistic gal, this has so much more depth and meaning than a) I’ll be able to communicate and b) is so much stronger than anyone who’s not on the spectrum could really comprehend.

And in case anyone is wondering, I’m actually doing better than I ever was.  I feel more like “ME!” than I have in about 5 or 6 years.  Singing that song was like chanting a mantra--it helped me start to accept and celebrate myself for who I am, instead of what other people want me to be.  And this week, I started a brand new (remote, part time!) job.  My fiance and I are moving back to our hometown in NH (so taylor, I’ll see you at Gillette stadium ASAP, right??!?) and we’re so excited, so over the moon, to rejoin our community and be with people we love and who love us back.  No more of the toxicity and politics of living in Washington D.C.  We’re going to the woods but with wifi.  We have each other, this change is beautiful and good.  But as my fellow ASD folk know, change is really rough on our kind -- so even though it’s a good change, it’s a lot for my brain to process and transition to.  And yet again, Taylor is going to be there for me, because LOVER (2019) will come out right at the time we’re moving.  I just couldn’t be more grateful.

I love you so much, @taylorswift.  You have helped me to experience the world and love myself within it in ways that I can’t even describe. 

I can’t wait for lover!!! Sending my disabled community so much love and luck in the LOVER era!

@taylorswift @taylornation

thank you @swiftiesofcolor for hosting selfie nights, as always <3 this community has been such a beacon for me, and I appreciate you so much!

#taylor swift #swiftdisabledselfies #disabled swifties #disabled swiftie night #actually autistic #actually adhd #lover #selfie night #mine

[tcrmommabear]

Temporal Shift (TCR B-Day Bash)

Hey demons, it’s me, ya girl, coming back from the depths of depression and anxiety to throw this at you for TCR Week. In all seriousness, I’m finally in a really good place. It’s not all sunshine and roses, but for once in my life, I can actually think. I can actually love and enjoy things again.

But with that sappiness over with, I’m back, and better than ever, with some angst that’ll really kill ya ;)

For those familiar with Wolf 359, yes, I am giving you the AU you never knew you wanted, let alone was possible. To those not familiar with W359, it’s a space audio-log style podcast that @catsafarithewriter and I have been in love with lately. It’s funny, it’s dark, it’s exciting, it’s brilliant. If you don’t mind the spoilers, take a read down below! If you’re interested in it now, maybe skip this prompt until you get up to episode 47, past Special Episode “Change of Mind”.

For those who don’t care, enjoy down below :)

(Bonus: Here’s the song that Persephone listens to)

The station port creaked open, swinging in to reveal the deep expanse laid out before them. She stepped forward, trusting the heavy boots to hold her steady. There was no hesitation, the feeling of weight settled at her feet, the smell of stale, cycled air familiar.

Comforting.

She glanced back at her companion, watching as they took fearful steps forward, hesitating to lift and step. She laughed, stepping back to offer a hand. The other accepted, grip tight even between the stiff rubber gloves of their suits.

“So-o-o-o-o,” she began, breathless, never letting go of her hand, “how often do you do this?”

She shrugged, glancing back and meeting sapphire eyes. She flushed, nervous laughter tumbling out. “Oh, three or four times a week. Mostly when everyone is asleep.”

“I see,” the other hummed, grip tightening on her hand as they stopped walking.

“Louise,” she watched her jump, a smirk spreading, “is this your first space walk?”

She didn’t need much beyond the immediate silence, the way the taller tried to duck her head and hide.

“You were supposed to do ten hours our first week here!”

“I know, I know-!”

“Shock, scandal, utter betrayal!”

“Please don’t tell-!”

She waved a hand, cutting off Louise’s plea, “Your secret’s safe with me. So, let’s go.”

Louise paused, cocking her head. “Go where? What?”

She grinned, raising her hand to point at the stars. “Let’s go free float for a bit, c’mon.”

She smiled sheepishly, taking a step away from her. “You go ahead, Persephone. I’ll get there just… Not tonight.”

They shared a smile, though looked away when they felt each had stared a moment too long.

“Suit yourself,” she said, deactivating her boots. The sensation took her slowly, creeping upwards. She felt a tug, and realized her and Louise had never let go of each other. She twisted to face her, floating just barely above her. Louise reach her other hand out, which she easily took, their helmets gently knocking against each other.

Even as she was floating in space, she could have never felt so light, so free. She gave a giddy giggle, memorizing the pattern of her freckles, the way one eye looked greener than the other.

“Go on,” Louise breathed, “float with the rest of the stars.”

She could only nod, letting go, turning to face the vast expanse. Wolf 359 glowing, bright, shimmering. There was a crackle of music, her cassette playing through the comms. The only song that felt like home.

“So-o-o… What did we learn, Persephone?” he purred, creeping into the corner of her vision. She stood on her ship, never breaking eyes with the twirling ball of fire.

“You just… Had to ruin the moment, didn’t you, Duke?”

His suit was too finely pressed, the whites sharp enough to kill. He was difficult to look at, his voice really the only clue to who he was. He hummed, “Sorry. Just the way it goes, sometimes.”

She nodded, fists clenching. Let her chest expand, meeting eyes with her star. Fiery, bright, blinding.

“You know you can’t stay here…”

“I know,” she answered, firmly, “I just… Needed to remind myself of something. To see… To see her again.”

“But, humor me here, why this moment? Why here?”

“Maybe because… She was the real star. Because I knew, for sure, here. How much I would do for her.”

He was silent this time, watching as her star, out of focus and blurred, suddenly came into focus, stark and clear. Warping into a deep blue.

“It’s almost time,” he sing-songed, voice grating, tearing her further away from her moment, her precious memory.

“Was any of this real,” she suddenly asked, “Was this… Really mine? Or was this the story I was told so I’d think I-?”

“A question with an answer only you can determine for yourself, Persephone. Ready?”

She sighed, glaring, blurred as her world melted.

“I’m going to mess you-!”

“Clear!” giggled out.

Electricity surged through her, igniting her senses. The entirety of her body washed over her with the shock, washing away as quickly as it came. Another bolt, twice as strong, froze her in a snapshot, memories siphoning into her brain.

Moments of the life she lived.

Young, lips tight, fire in her eyes.

Nose bleeding, fist cocked, army written all over her.

Heart broken, family, friends, all lost, station echoing behind her.

Grim determination, false confidence, curling fear overtaken with frost from cryo.

Ice bathed in flames.

Electricity surged, surged, surged, overloaded her until she was hacking half her lungs out. Her world came to her in puzzle pieces and tsunami waves, understanding far from her mind. Voices called, pressure on her skull that she didn’t know how to process.

“I’d say we’re about… Half way there. After that kids? Training wheels come off.”

***

He locked Machida and Muta separately, hands still shaking as he entered the locking code. He took the long way through the station, working through the damaged and hollow halls until he came back to the medbay.

Persephone slept on the bed, chest rising and falling like it had never stopped. Like a bullet didn’t paint the back wall of the comms room with her grey matter. The shaking returned with fervor, but he sucked in an unsteady breath, digging his nails into the flesh of his palm. Let his chest expand.

No time for fear. No time for fear, for revulsion, for outright grief. He packed the feelings away, stored them in a little box out of sight, and set about to look for Haru. He scoured what remained of the ship, bunks, bathrooms, the mess, only to find her in the first place he thought she’d be, and the last place he wanted to find her.

Even with one less full body bag on the floor, the feeling of death weighed the room down heavy, obscuring the beauty of the stars with the cruelty on man. She didn’t look at him, staring out the observation deck window to the blue star haunting their station. He took a seat beside her, studying her face, following the tear tracks, examining the flecks of blood Persephone coughed onto her.

“Haru…” he began, but what do you say? What do you tell someone, when they’ve witnessed the craziest, most miraculous, most insane thing possible and called it their friend? Nothing. You say their name and sit like a fool with nothing to say. God, they needed to send out a better manual.

She turned to look at him, took in his own mess of an appearance, of a life, and turned away. Tried, measured, and found wanting.

“You can say it, you know…” she mumbled, never breaking eyes with the star.

“Say what?”

She laughed, rubbing her eyes as more tears began to build. “That… That all of this is my fault.”

He froze, heart cracking between his ribs. She watched as she started to cry anew, her hands pressing against her face. He packed everything away, his own sadness, his own guilt, his fiery rage at the world that’d make her feel like that. She was the only one that mattered.

“Haru, none of this is your fault!”

“I was the one who found the signal! The one who didn’t want to kill Toto, the one who got stranded and needed a dumb rescue, bringing the others here! It’s my fault she got shot!”

She wouldn’t- couldn’t- stop shaking, warmth and hope draining out her eyes and down to the floor.

“Stop that, stop that right now,” Yuki commanded, her sweet voice furious, echoing in the makeshift morgue. Haru jumped, looking around for the camera Yuki used to see.

“Yuki?” she called out.

“I won’t have my best friend thinking she’s the sole cause of this hell. It was all of us. It was none of us. It was a chain reaction of horrible decisions and the cruelty of monsters disguised as people. None of us could have prevented, or even predicted this. Not even me. It’s wasn’t you, Haru.”

“She’s right,” he jumped in, taking her hands between his, pulling her attention, “None of this is your fault. Persephone… Persephone made her choice. Machida, Muta, Hiromi… Toto… They all made their choices. You are not responsible for the actions of monsters.”

Haru hiccuped, gasping for breath to find an argument between their truths, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Haru, you are the bravest, the smartest, the kindest person I had the joy to meet. A regular, golden-orange sun will shine on us, one day.”

She nodded, and kept nodding, until he pulled her tight against his chest. He reached a hand, pressed it against the wall, hoping to do something to include Yuki in their human matters.

“I’ll get us all home safe,” he promised, “I’ll make Goddard pay for everything.”

She shook her head, pulling away. He saw the fury burning beneath her skin, jaw set in determination, “No, not before I burn them all to the ground.”

He nodded, rubbing his other hand down her back. She leaned back against him, warm and hurt and vulnerable.

“I’ll take care of you, Haru. And you, Yuki,” he said, confused when Haru pulled away again. Her hands found his cheeks, holding him in place, forcing him to look at her.

“Commander Baron, you can’t carry all of this yourself,” Yuki said, worry laced in her words. He sputtered, tried to reel back, prove he was fine, assure them that he could, but Haru stopped him.

“Baron,” she pleaded, soft, gentle, “let yourself grieve. Let it all process- Besides, I know about you and Toto.”

He jerked, glaring at Yuki’s camera accusingly. Her voice came out nervous, but not regretful.

“My duty is to protect my crew. And, according to my code that I had to bend for a loophole, that means spilling secrets to my best friend to keep her heart from breaking.”

“I pressed her for it, Baron,” she told him, tilting her head with a rueful smile. He didn’t like that look, that train of thought that’d keep him from… A wonderful chance, one day.

“Once, in the beginning, Haru. There was something, a wonderful and… Strange something. But that ended a long time ago. Died, when he hurt you and Yuki.”

She gave a shuddering sigh, shoulders sagging. She pulled him down, arms tight around her neck, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay, Baron,” she soothed, nervous laughter freezing in his throat. His breath hitched, lost in brown hair, the smell of metal and… That damn seaweed shampoo Toto made. The tears fell, Haru whispering kindly in his ear.

“Just let go.”

#the cat returns #tcr #cat returns #studio ghibli #wolf 359 au #the cat returns au #tcr au #tcr birthday bash 2019 #tcr birthday bash #neko no ongaeshi #temporal shift #tcrmommabear writes #tcrmommabear posts #tcrmommabear #angst #tw: gore #tw: death #hi ready to be broken hearted #hey look ma i made it

[ibitchytimemachine]

Author Showcase

Ok so for this first Author Showcase, I decided to review four of my favorite fics from an author who writes mostly one shots. I love so much of what she writes, and am so excited when she posts something new because I know it is going to be in depth, emotional, twisty and just everything I want out of a fic. So we will be diving into four fics from @blacksheep1105, Fine, Royal Jewelry, The Sweetest Dream and her newest fic, Within. You can click each of these titles to read the fics, or you can click the titles in the post to go to the works!! Thoughts below the cut!

Fine

So this fic is absolutely my favorite story from Sheep. I love the whole message behind it. Bulma is feeling pretty shit about something doesn't matter what it is, cause people get pissy about serious shit and stupid shit so it's realistic. Yamcha is a total douche to her, blowing her off and then momma briefs just blows her off too. BUT then here comes Vegeta and he offers her what she needed, a sounding board.

So firstly, i love this idea of Vegeta seeking Bulma out when she's upset because he realizes she's helped him after the GR explosion just cause she's a good person. And he kinda liked that… and he kinda wants to share that feeling back with her. I can see that as a legit like canon reason their whole friendship turn relationship begins. Sure Vegeta is OOC in this fic, but he needs to be to get the moral across so it doesn't bother me.

Sheep has fantastic characterizations of Yamcha and Panchy too. Yamcha is completely oblivious, and carefree and douchey. Panchy is also oblivious and too happy and whatever…. She is like a stepford wife wanting and needing everything to be perfect.

This is the best thing ever. I have crippling anxiety/depression. Sometimes i freak out about seemingly stupid things. Sometimes i just need people to notice me. I'm not one to scream and make a big deal about my feelings (especially online) but sometimes i just try to tell people.. hey im not ok. If you run into someone who is not ok - let them vent. Please dont tell them its ok. And this is advice i need to take too cause i suck at people, but just be there for them. And go read this one shot cause it is fantastic.

The Sweetest Dream

So I think this is the fic most people know by her, and rightfully so. One thing that Sheep does really well is creating an atmosphere. From the very beginning of the piece you can feel the tension in the air, Bulma’s complete despondency. The way she fixates on certain objects in the room and describes how Bulma walks by them and thinks about them really adds to the idea of a great obsession or depression. I like the bookending of the scenes with words, helps drive home this obsessive feeling. And Bulma is very obsessed at this point. Vegeta is lost to war and her life is once again thrown into turmoil.

Each scene drives home the fact that Bulma is basically killing herself with grief. Between the details of things that happened in the past, and sheer world building that takes place all in one room of the palace (and the world feels so much larger than the palace which is really special) the story feels rich. One of my favorite details is when the servant comes in and she is wearing golden chains because she is going to be around the royals, but that she will go back to wearing the iron (or steel) chains when she is relegated to the kitchens in the upcoming week.

It is really nice touch that you need to pay attention to the passage of time. I have to admit I had to read the story a few times before I actually understood what was happening, but only because I didn’t pay attention to the time stamps. The utter horror that you feel at the end of the piece is so heartbreaking. Bulma gets her world torn away from her, then its given back and hell if it isn’t torn away again. The emotion in the piece is fantastic. Speaking of emotion…. This last scene with the Beeps… fuck it is heartbreaking. Like I cry reading it. She keeps this Beep throughout the scene and it helps build the tension and takes the emotion to another level by having the reader focus on this sound that is driving Bulma out of her dreamland… and the last beep reverberates so much because it is like a blackout scene at the end of a TV show and it just fucking rings in the audiences brain… Just very very intelligently written.

Royal Jewelry

So this piece is the first I read from her and there are several things I really love about it.

The first is the humor in it. It is not a serious piece and it is written in the way that reminds us that it is not serious. She was so smart in the way she chose words to elicit a humorous response in the reader. Even in some of the smut there is an irreverent humor that is just really special and I think adds exponentially to the charm of the piece. Bulma is in the IDGAF stage of dealing with Vegeta and his sex bullshit, hell even the name of the piece is a wink and its almost puny which I adore a good pun so that always good.

The next thing is the smut. Its just a fantasy, but it is written really well. Vegeta is imagining all these things and who the hell knows if it is actually gonna happen, but it is pretty damn detailed. Her choice of terminology is fantastic and really feels dirty in the best way. Her descriptions of things like the way Bulma is shaved and how Vegeta will push her deeper into the bed as he fucks her is really really hot. Also, I can’t forget to mention my personal favorite, when Vegeta is imagining how his dick will spread her lips as he puts it inside her. The imagery is just on point and really stellar.

The last thing I want to talk about is the tone of this piece and the growth that I see from this piece to her most recent fic Within. This piece is astoundingly different in tone from the other pieces I have reviewed here. She has a talent for writing heavier pieces, but she also writes humor and light things just as well which I really can’t say for everyone. This piece is good - I genuinely enjoy it, but it is quite a bit more raw feeling than her most recent pieces. I completely blame that on practice, she has been writing in this way a lot longer and the growth is astounding between this first piece of hers and the new stuff. This last piece is so well put together and I can see how her writing is just getting better and better and better with each piece she puts out. I am genuinely astounded by how good she was when she started putting pieces out there, but then I think about how fantastic Within is and there is such a difference in her writing. So I commend her on working at getting better.

Within

So this is Sheep’s submission for the Vegebulocracy Mini Bang 2019. It is absolutely fantastic and combines all of the best things she does into one piece (minus smut, there are a few hot scenes, but if you are looking for smut, its not here). The freaking tension she builds in this piece is fantastic. You really have no clue what the end game of the piece is until the very end. And then when the twist hits you, it is insane. The way she has Vegeta use his sexuallity against Bulma is fantastic. There are two places he freaking plays with her sexual attraction to him just for shits and giggles. And hell the last time he flirts with her, he does it simply to knock Bulma off her guard so he can get the information he wants out of her.

This is her best work. I say that knowing just how fucking good The Sweetest Dream is, but the range of emotions in this piece is really fantastic. She writes this wonderful sexual tension, humor, anger. And they all fit within the piece in a fantastic way, but also they are so in character. She uses the same bookending device where she repeats a phrase at the beginning and end of a scene and it works so nicely to anchor the main theme of each section. This is a freaking complex one shot and it was quite ambitious of her to write this for something like the Mini Bang.

If you don’t read anything else by her, read this one. She captures such an amazing range of emotion in it.It has this beautiful plot that feels meandering, but all of a sudden all the parts fit together and you see what is happening, which makes second read throughs so nice.  

Something I really love about Sheep’s writing, is the uniqueness of her ideas. I would have never come up with the twists that she did in The Sweetest Dream or Within. They are truly fantastic story ideas and hell if they aren’t really really well written. One thing that I will say is that as I read through her pieces again, I see so much growth in her writing. She started with Royal Jewels, which is NICE, but then when you read some of her other pieces you see this wonderful Craftsman she is. Because she is not a native English speaker some words have contextual issues, but the main idea is always there. Some slight grammar things are in the pieces, but they are not issues that take away from the reading experience at all. It takes her a lot of time to write, partly because of the fact she is writing in English instead of German, but I whole heartedly believe that her pieces are worth the wait. They are super unique, the twists are fabulous, they are slightly dark (which I love), really well written and I gotta be honest, sometimes I want a really good story that doesnt take me a week to read cause it is 300,000 words. Please take some time to go read this awesome authors works, I 100 percent recommend the above ones, but she has others that are really really great too!!

If you liked this review, after you check this fic out, head over to my A03 and read some of my stuff! 

#BTM Fic Review #blacksheep115 #fanfic review #A03 #fanfic recommendation #go read these cause they are awesome #happy birthday girl