#madstrothought

[madstronaut]

word-tasting aka literary synaesthesia 101

when I tell you some of the best writing I've ever read are these promptfill drabble fics spurred by nothing but a few key words? this must be the closest equivalent of IRL witchcraft because damn! absolute magic in the kitchen with these challenges I would watch 24 seasons straight no breaks of cook-off competitions feasting solely off seasonal drabbles and prompt&challengefills alone that I've read across this hellscape

I have been meaning to go through some of my latter moots' works and this unusual omegaverse ficcy by syo absolutely arrested me

I actually started writing this little ramble back in August but due to some IRL loss/sad anniversaries of late, put a pin in it to resume ranting (affectionate) later and THE TIME IS NIGH folks

Reading: reminiscent by @syoddeye

reminiscent

my entry to @glitterypirateduck's ghost challenge. ~8k. prompts used: #83 caught in the rain/#54 omegaverse/brother's best friend replaced

ah where to even start? this brought out such a viscerally emotional reaction in me as I happened to be reading it during several very different seasons, namely - horny (before), grieving (after), acceptance (now). I will not elaborate further, yall know the drill.

During grieving I had a hard time recalling how excited I was in the before (I originally wrote 'when I was horny' and laughed my ass off) about all that this fic made me feel because in so many ways the emotions became too real for me instead of cathartic - I only say this as the highest of compliments to sy as a writer, tbh, as I feel a fic that makes me emote or gets a strong response/reaction out of me is high prose/praise in my book

sy has a way of writing to really not just bring our favorite broken boys to life but really let you walk in their skin, feel what they feel, see what they see, so to speak -

It takes a second. Simon shoots a look at Soap to silently convey incredulity, but he might as well take a blade to the neck. The seat across from him is empty. Before memory strikes, he’s on his feet,

my GOD the whiplash here is so, so familiar - just that raw grief of having those familiar habits built around someone being ripped away

The room reeks of damp earth and pine, a hearth in a lonely, snowed-in cabin. It gathers the force of an avalanche, pummeling into him and stealing his breath. It settles an invisible weight on his chest and limbs. Buried to his neck in memory, he forces himself to move. He’s dug himself out of the ground before. He’ll do it again.

I can smell this sentence and it smells like a masterpiece. I am not as eloquent as sy is here with their words but if that "buried to his neck in memory" line was a snack it would probably be those melt in your mouth non-chew luxury chocolates they sell at the seasonal bryant park holiday market that I buy and stash away so I can savor it slowly and greedily without sharing it

The days pass, surreal yet sharp and excruciating, as if he’s a surgical patient and the anesthesia didn’t take.

yes. this is too real. I described a grief season before as having my eyelids cut off and having to crying constantly to keep seeing - and to keep myself from seeing. I cried reading this sentence, because it made me feel seen. 100/10

I have a soft spot for omegaverse stories but I love this one in particular for all that it typically isn't - what happens if you lose a mate you never bonded with? how do you navigate the reality of what is really a horrific world if you get down to the tacks of what being so driven by instinct could really entail? what could CoD Omegaverse really be like if we just stopped being horny for like two sec- (can you tell I'm a sucker for AUs)

It gnaws and bites like flies to see former friends turn their noses up at you. Cracks and shifts your insides, uncovering anger as old and boiling as a deep-sea vent.

I am feasting on the angst here. how do you do it sy?! make pictures and scents and sounds and sensations of real memories?! an absolute masterchef of wordsmithing

He just lets you wail. In retrospect, it’s clear that he swapped a cudgel for a knife. Dissected your rage with a mind trained to defuse explosives.

once again, CoD writer characterizations are 😘👌 I think often of the roles given to johnny to fill both in the in-game lore/canon and in the myriad of amazing fics out there and the ones I love best are the ones that seem to really embody his spirit - even when the fic will deviate from canon details - and also honestly, seeing how much the writer loves and sees the character by how they're fleshed out through their eyes/writing - if you've ever seen a portrait of someone and noted the differences/touch-ups, only to realize you are seeing the person as the artist is seeing them - quite a similar experience I had reading this

The tide’s out, and you stand on shore, waiting for the crushing grief.

😭😭😭 once again noting reading this felt at turns raw and cathartic. incredible

The portrait of your best friend bears witness from atop the mantle. In uniform with a buzzed head and a serious expression, it’s him, yet nothing like him... As Johnny followed your parents into death, you’re left alone, subject to the whims and mercies of an aunt who sees only your designation. 

It's him, yet nothing like him.... *MW3 flashbacks*

also still entertaining a fanciful urge to write a small dissertation as a/b/o designation as allegory for going through life as female-presenting and/or oppressive societal/gender expectations-

Your nostrils flare at his vinegariness, the feeler he sends to test the waters

i fucking love that line. VINEGARINESS! truly feel this is what creepy would smell like

Familiar, somehow, and powerful... Citrus wrinkles your nose, beckoning you to relax.... Instincts like cicadas, buried to avoid that which would exploit them, dig their way out of the ground.

Cedar and myrrh, stone and soil—a burst potent enough to cow the eldest member of your family, forcing her to retreat a step. This close, your nose finds the word it was looking for. Sepulchral.

I read with baited breath anticipating simon and sister's meeting. unfffh physically shivered at how good these lines were. the angst! the suspense!

You refuse an obligatory invitation-

HAHAAHAHAHAHA i am also obsessed with the sister in this fic

also I learned the word spoor reading this fic and I have the biggest crush on fics that make me learn/look up new words (looking at you, yeyinde-)

Simon cloisters for two days. His scent returns to normal, slowly rolling over the house like a thick fog.

beginning to wonder if the sister has synaesthesia but in a/b/o - I actually had a friend in college who had synaesthesia (you would NEVER peg him as such, he was like a very chill buttoned-up finance/tax bro but once we coaxed this detail out of him he talked about how the word 'and' always felt 'purple' to him and he casually noted things like "you smell pink" or "you look blue/silver" - that last one he said of me which was very puzzling lol)

As if the house needs another ghost. 

me, reading this line:

The floor creaks under his foot, but he stops the second you tense. You hold the makeshift cold compress in place and apply pressure. Another stilted silence passes, and you catch a whiff of citrus. Simon’s eyes snap to you. “She’s cracked the case,” his hand creeps toward yours, giving you time to let go before he steals the compress and pulls away.

if this is not the most simon of simon things to do... obsessed with this grieving meek gentle giant

I love the made-up science of a/b/o and the backbending logic leaps fanfic writers do to create the wonderful word of sex pollen and heats and ruts and etc. but the hyperosmia...a new level of a/b/o horror!!! gah i loved this

All the scent blockers in the world cannot deter the repugnant or unscrupulous.

ah yes, when a/b/o is still rooted in reality in many ways...

It’s difficult to keep a straight face as Johnny scruffs the stranger, bringing him to heel. Your brother compels the miscreant to apologize and then sets him loose, satisfied he’s neutered the man.

it is a fact of life, i will be attracted to all shades of johnny canon and fanon - also the use of 'scruff' and 'neuter' here is just 😘👌

But has it ever occurred to you that I might want someone? That maybe this isn’t just about your life? That being saddled with you isn’t easy?

ugh this was so hard to read because i feel like as an eldest sibling it has stripped a very raw part of that part of me naked when reading this. i hate sometimes how painful it is to unleash inside thoughts in emotional moments, both for the speaker and listener. 100/10 writing once again

The impulse to apologize and flee attempts to puppet you,

unffffff how to word this? this is true for me in all the seasons i've re-read this so far - i find it ultimately incredibly cathartic to see these uncomfortable sensations and feelings put to paper. and yes i am gonna keep rating sy's writing 100/10 throughout this ramble, no one can stop me

Simon pokes through the shirt, face blank and mouth shut. Soap’s chewing on something. Rather, something’s chewing Soap.

hahahahaaha i loved this mental image

“No, you’re shutting me out. Goin’ away.” “‘I’m right here.” Soap frowns tiredly. “Why don’t you want to come? Meet my sister?”

i love how generally speaking soap is universally seen as very adept at reading the room/sensing emotions - we stan a self-aware king✨

“I want to be.” It’s not a whine; it’s hardly a complaint. It’s a statement of fact delivered with resignation.

🥺🥺🥺 yes this also made me cry lol, 10000/10

Simon admires the droop of Soap’s dark eyelashes on his skin and even breathing. Closest thing to heaven he’ll ever see, he thinks. 

i love secret romantic simon

Soap’s arm tightens its hold as he slightly flares his scent, a plume of woodfire as inviting as his words.

hmmmmm that's where simon learned it from

Soap can’t pin him on the sparring mat, but he can with a look. “Doesn’t have to mean anything.” To you. Doesn’t have to mean anything to you.

if it were an ao3 tag i would favorite 'mutual unfulfillable pining'

But poking through the thick, funereal brume is juniper and pine. The hours preceding heavy snowfall. It’s an odd combination, grounding and sharp, petrous and serene. A graveyard in the dead of winter.

once again absolutely shivering at all the synaesthesial descriptions. I can see these smells!!!!!!!!! also +2 for having me look up brume and petrous

The mirth bleeds from his eyes. “No, I’m realistic. Something funny in the MacTavish line. Fucking dreamers, the two of you. Wanting things you can’t have.”

screeeaaaming

He wordlessly moves so you can slide the lemon bars into the heat. You inhale deeply, drinking in the tart citrus as a palate cleanser, and shut the door.

i find it interesting the sister is baking treats that are citrusy, the scent associated with relaxation 🍋

Still. It crowbars a smile out of you. Reminds you of Johnny.

crowbars a smile- 🥹🥹🥹 a whole movie scene in a single verb, mwah mwah sy need to re-up my infinite supply of chef's kisses that are running low because of this fic-

also the very subtle song and dance of the second story being told through their scent interactions is once again just 😘👌

“She’s just late.” “Like Soap, then.” Price‘s posture is confident and easy. He’s handling this better than the sergeant. “Better.”

aWWWW SIMON YOU BIG-ASS SOFTIE YOU Even in death, his sergeant’s a solid bridge. The foundation of a fucked up home.  A familiar blend of heather and rain draws his attention to the entrance. In his chest, something settles. “It’s what he would’ve wanted.”

the ending here made me cry MULTIPLE times but all I'll say here is that as someone freshly and unexpectedly grieving, I found this fic supremely confronting, cathartic, and now comforting to see a world where broken promises can still be kept even after death and loss in its own way can still be transformed as a gift, even when you're unused to gifting - and receiving.

i wanted to write something more poetic and eloquent to honor the writing but all i will end with here is that this was supremely unique and beautiful and it is truly not even one of the most unique a/b/o fics but but one of the best pieces of writing I've seen across my many fandoms over the years... a billion kudos to you sy for this, and a special extra kudo for helping me in its own small way to navigate grief in the last few months 🫂🌱

[madstronaut]

truth can be stranger than fiction, but sometimes they also hold hands and kiss

I was gunning to post this in September but A Lot of Life™️ happened (and is still happening tbh) so despite me pouting at myself about skipping a month, without further ado - my 24th faficowrimo ramble~

every now and then, the fiction I read and my lived experiences tangle together in my head and coagulate into some interesting dreams...some of my favorites ofc are the smutty ones, what can I say I've always had an active imagination

Some of my beloved fics I note as comfort reads or cathartic reads, depending on how I'm feeling and the nature of the story...this falls squarely under cathartic for me

I will temporarily sidestep the mountain pile of naughty dreams to share of a recurring one that's always left me quite speechless that I have had the gift of dreaming about again brought on, in part, by the latest read of Service Dog Johnny by @void-my-warranty in a way that really just leaves me at a loss for words... if you'd like to get emotionally baja blasted (and also tbh once again hear me rant about my love for fanfic) with me, read on, my fellow taco bell enthusiast & traveler ✨🌮

also I am including this gif because I searched 'taco bell' as a joke and for some unexplainably fucked up reason this was one of the top gifs to show up in the list but also what a double-duty it serves as I talk about SERVICE DOG JOHNNY EH? reality sometimes really *is* stranger than fiction but also seriously wtf is going on here in this gif if you know pls DM me im afraid to google it

I started therapy a few years ago thanks to finally finding someone I trusted/specializing in my trauma cocktail *and* covered by my insurance (to my fellow americans: SHOCKER, I know, anyway fuck US healthcare and this economy but moving on) and I recall describing the early sessions to IRL beloveds/moots with some choice phrases, like:

having a sword tip poking my chest and being asked to walk further into the blade

having swallowed a large sack full of glass shards and instead of trying to remove them, realizing i have adjusted to have the bits piercing out of my body be less noticeable - not very sustainable personally speaking, let's be real

after some hard fucking work, sweat, tears put in I started dreaming about seeing that sword as a surgical scalpel instead, healing instead of harming, and that sack of glass filled with water and oil instead (really wanted to put a squirting/watersports joke here at voidy's expense but this is such a sacred thing to me but wait it's MY sacred thing and I can desecrate it for jokes IF I WANT TO OKAY) making me feel light and buoyant and seeing all my former open wounds now freshly scarred up. I'm honestly tearing up writing this out because I am very fucking proud of how far I have come... all this to say, brutal but rewarding. if you have the opp... 'walk towards the sword' my moots & beloveds 💝🫂

I have since ended regular therapy sessions and only go on the one-off times I really need the extra support, but a question I grappled with for a long time (and sometimes still do!) was "how do I know I'm healed?"

I used to think of healing as this near-mythical - and frankly, unreachable - final destination for me. but I'm learning it's more about the journey and companions along the way and the many signposts on the path marking how far I have come (and that I still have a ways to go). anyway I blabbered on here too long but my point is healing is hopefully a familiar (and necessary) journey for us all in so many ways, and I for one welcome the unexpected companions that help us take another step forward (and catch you when you falter back) *looking at you, fanfic my beloved* and SDJ was such a vivid reminder of all of this for me

I could fuck with concepts like protagonist/deuteragonist/tritagonist (had to look that third one up to see if a term even existed tbh) but the truth is for me, each of voidy's trio are written like living breathing dimensional beloveds to me in how broken and tender and loving and human and flawed and mysterious they are and each of them in their own way are so beloved to me.

I have been reading bell hook's we real cool: black men & masculinity lately (deeply enjoyed her books all about love and feminism is for everybody - i understand she is not free from controversy after having devoured a bunch of her writing but i deeply fuck with her main theories that being rooted and motivated to love and be loved at the core of our humanity needs to involve having our eyes, hearts, minds, ears, and hands open to the experiences of fellow humans, particularly marginalized + POC voices) and one of the passages discussing healing from abuse was very SDJ/simon-coded to me...

"Many males have experienced traumatic sexual abuse in childhood. It scars them for life. And when they receive the message from the culture that real men should be able to endure abuse as a rite of passage and emerge with their sexual agency intact, there is no cultural space for them to articulate that they were sexually abused, that they are damaged and in need of sexual healing."

I will say for myself, the culmination of the trio's journey so far in SDJ, simon in particular - with whom I unfortunately share some of his canon trauma and SDJ-flavored hangups and anxieties - has made me feel so loved and seen, like meeting a good samaritan (or perhaps a service dog johnny) on the road to hold my hand wordlessly saying "you too? me too." and walk part of the journey with me, even for a brief stretch.. a happy accident or eucatastrophe of meeting someone at the right place at the right time like reader and johnny have been for simon in SDJ ❤️‍🩹🫶🌿

I've heard an oft-cited statistic that in a random crowd at least a quarter if not more of the people around you, regardless of gender, have most likely experienced abuse and assault than not. Finding a space to be seen and heard re: sharing about abuse and trauma - and god forbid perhaps even healed? in the year of our lorde 2024? - has in many ways been delegated to avenues that aren't readily available to most, financially and socially and relationally speaking - even nowadays. I'm in my mid-30s and I was only able to afford therapy several years ago, despite finally mustering the courage to start looking after years of patient coaxing and support from IRL beloveds, because my workplace decided to expand our mental health benefits + insurance during covid.

beyond my IRL beloveds who have been absolutely incredible sources of support, I am not even fucking joking when I say fan-motherfuckin-fiction kept me afloat mentally spiritually socially since my madstroteens to help me feel seen, heard, loved, and healed - basically free therapy until I could afford the real thing...but even as I say "the real thing" there has been nothing fucking realer to me than the growth and beauty and joy and catharsis in reading life in its heights and valleys and finding a bit of myself in fanfic...

I've heard it said that the profound is lurking behind the absurd and I am 1000% serious when I say the very cathartic and moving tales and tragedies and romances and adventures and lessons and wisdom in FANFICTION (for CALL OF DUTY!!!!!!!!!!!! no less) is absolutely fucking priceless to me - the world didn't give it and the world can't take it away, as it says somewhere in some good books

these made up stories and characters and scenarios in our heads have held my hand, my head, my heart when I have needed it most - and helped me do so for others - and created the most expansive safe space to explore in a free and nonjudgmental way that I can't really think of a real-world equivalent other than actual therapy or times when I've felt a deeper peace and affection touch me in sacred settings or in nature or maybe playing D&D with my IRLs lol

so yes, I wholeheartedly agree that while some of the loveliest writings are drawn from lived experiences, exploring something new in fiction, like readers exploring sexuality through throuplegate tags ghoap fics or asks about aromanticism... or cathartic healing words and gestures they may have yet to hear or receive in reader's and johnny's stalwart and carefully mapped, but also spontaneous and artesian support and tender care for simon... can have just as real and powerful of an impact on reader & writer as well!

and it can be so clearly seen in the absolutely incredible reblogs, asks, comments, and headcanons and side drabbles shared if you go through voidy's SDJ tags which I also so enjoyed reading alongside the story; it reminds me of ye olden days when I was a rabid LOTR fan and I re-watched the extended versions of the trilogies in multiple iterations via the cast, director, and producer commentaries

ok before I lose my train of thought entirely here because I was supposed to rant about what I loved about SDJ and I've just been adding to this monster of a draft for weeks on end rambleranting on and on about fanfic-

the reader!!!! the reader. I have been brought to tears multiple times by her selfsacrificing affection and deep love for simon, as well as how well she is able to disarm him in the moment with her humor

the humor!!! the fucking weaponized use of humor as character tell and development in this fic... i feel (and personally use) humor as a way of visibly lowering and bypassing the armor and walls we put up around others as if to say 'see? it's safe! I feel safe around you enough to joke around and I want you to know that. i invite you into this safe space in me, with me.' and the way time and again reader, simon, and johnny uses it like a sniper shot is fucking brilliant

a random selection of some of (I write 'some' fully knowing I'm gonna just copypaste the entire fucking story) my favorite lines below:

He’s always been up front with you about his trauma, how he can’t stomach touch unless it’s non-sexual. You’ve always known it would just be only you taking care of your own needs, and it’s something you’re more than happy to accept, because you love him. But how could you even conceptualize doing something like that? Letting someone else touch you when you’re in love with Simon.

Lines like these above is what makes reader so human and real to me. 💋👌mwahmwah exponential chef kisses for your literary cookin voidy💋👌

God, why is he still talking to you like that? It’s really, really hot, but are you allowed to enjoy it? Surely you are.

right there with you dear reader, been there before 😵‍💫

His eyes are practically burning into you with some type of excitement, though he doesn't let the rest of his face betray it. It's only because you know him so well that you see the unusual gleam there, and suspect that if you put your hand on his chest right now, his heart would be hitting your palm in a gallop ... He's interacting with your sexual desire for the first time, running his thumb over the crown of your head and watching you so intently that the orgasm warming your legs is starting to feel unavoidable.

Simon's journey to re-experience sexual desire as safe and healthy and normal again...I do not have enough words 😭😭 anyway brb crying my heart goes out to SDJ simon so much i want to hold his face and dick(WHO SAID THAT) in my hands and cradle him gently and tenderly

“It won’t, love." He waits for your your fingers to find your clit again, and for your eyes to slide shut, and he whispers, "Someday very soon, you’re going to get to cum while you’re bent over the bed, and someone’s hand is keeping your head pressed nicely into the covers. You won’t have to think about anything but staying right there and getting fucked, and you’ll be able to just relax, and take it for as long as you’re meant to.”

SDJ simon, like many of us, also seems to find refuge and safe sexual expression in fantasy 👀👀

Simon just smiles at you in that warm way, the slight curve of his mouth that doesn’t have even a hint of malice or dishonesty behind it. You’ve grown to trust it implicitly. 

🥹🥹🥹 this is so tender and lovely. mwah mwah mwah I would attack with so many cheek kisses for simon and voidy ✨

“Dinnae misrepresent me to your woman. I’ve had my share of romance.” “Learned that word on the way here, did you? You know you’re supposed to keep your eyes on the road.”

I fucking live for simon and johnny roasting each other 😂😂😂

The look of adoration he’s giving you sends a burst of fuzzy pink warmth through your chest.

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

“Simon,” you gasp, and then frantically backtrack over your mistake. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean— oh-hhh my god.”

I looooved loved loved loved loved loved this slip of the tongue. one word speaks volumes <3

It’s glaringly obvious how wet you are, the bits of your underwear that stick to your ass as he works his hand against your cunt. 

ok I just want to say THIS IS SO REAL AND SO GODDAMN ANNOYING I HATE THAT FEELING LIKE THE OCEAN IS GIVING MY A WEDGIE where all my sometimes sensory issues girlies (gn) at

You figured out early on in the relationship that he loves affectionate threats of violence. 

me, recalling DMs with voidy: yes, yes this is also voidy

“He was just offered a shag, of course he is.”

😂😂😂

That gentle touch happens again, this time sending a wash of awareness though you, forcing you to look away from his eyes. You’re not allowed to feel like this when he’s touching you. This is forever off limits, that interested tingle between your legs.  Stop it, he’s just being sweet...“You’re turning me on,” you whisper. It’s what you’ve always done, any time he’s inadvertently touched you in a way that your body perceived as sexual. You always let him know, let him cut it out before it makes him feel a certain type of way. The last thing you want to do is find secret, perverted enjoyment in moments that would trigger him if he knew.  

sometimes I call reader 'saint' in my head, because I can't think of a better word to sum up her patience, love, sense of self-sacrifice, near catholic levels of guilt for feeling anything remotely self-focused, and desire to focus wholly on others' well-being before her own...and alternately, a saint is also usually a two-dimensional flat figure, devoid of needs and wants, there to absorb all the negative emotions and give, give, give...surely not a life fit for a regular-degular human girlfriend, dear reader 👀

This has never happened before. He’s never pushed himself this far, standing between your legs like this when you’re in your underwear. Why he’s doing it now, you can’t fathom, but this is his struggle. You have to trust that he won’t hold it against you if he gets too far past his limits.

me, screaming and gesticulating wildly: you can't fathom THAT SIMON LOVES YOU AND WANTS TO PUT HIMSELF OUT THERE FOR YOU TO TRY AND MEET YOU WHERE YOU'VE RETREATED LKE YOU HAVE DONE FOR HIM????

You know that’s not true. If anything, the deflection leads you to believe that he’s protecting Simon, like he told him something personal. 

something I find so interesting and perhaps a tad relatable - reader is a fucking psychic sometimes when it comes to reading others' intentions and feelings, and yet overly sus and cautious when it comes to seeing into herself (now why does that sound familar oh FUCK ITS-A ME, MARIO-)

He feels safe enough to touch himself with his friend here, but not when it’s just you? You glance back down to Johnny, heart galloping and anxiety expanding in your lungs as you make some unfortunate mental leaps.  Why did Simon choose Johnny for this? How can he be so very confident that he’ll take care of you? Has he done this before? Is this a thing they do? Simon gets a new girlfriend, and Johnny gets free sex? 

I've said this before somewhere but I theorize Johnny's presence for Simon make him feel safe for & from himself and sidenote: as a card-carrying woman I do not fault reader at. all. when it comes to her anxious spiral of thoughts here re: some men and their triflin ways

Maybe it’s just the post-nut clarity talking, but you realize for the first time that the reason isn’t because you want to keep him at arm’s length, it’s because you think you don’t deserve it.  This whole arrangement has felt like you’re living someone else’s life, someone who’s worth being looked after like this. It’s not something you’ve ever experienced before, and it feels so unsafe to venture into something new. It feels comfortable and familiar to decide that you can’t allow yourself to fully experience Johnny, that you must ration him instead, nibbling on little bits so you don’t grow too accustomed to the taste. You’ve been subconsciously depriving yourself, as if maintaining your unmet needs is crucial to making sure you don’t grow beyond the person you’ve always been. 

All of this + reader's reaction to perceiving crying as bad versus cathartic... early 20-something madstronaut, is that you

I have also wondered at the cost of arguably a huge part of herself (I believe we can and do change and accept ourselves and each other in and for love, kind of like moving but in tandem and rhythm, like a dance, but I'd argue reader in choosing simon and his particularities as her dance partner has also chosen to metaphorically tourniquet one of her limbs to do so) if maybe she is also crying out of personal grief and confusion as well. That razor-sharpness of post-nut clarity is too real... after deciding to give up her sex life as she knew it before for simon, then now suddenly exploring getting it back, and the whiplash of emotions while in an intense feedback loop of orgasms? gurrrrllll I would be bawling too, high-five

You think back over Johnny’s endless patience, how considerate and soft he’s been with you. How he went so slow the last time, giving you time to mentally prepare to be penetrated, making sure every touch was comfortable and enjoyable. And you consider for the first time that maybe Johnny isn’t just Simon-by-proxy for you. Maybe in a way, you are that, for Johnny. 

mmm, ghoapcrumbs WHO SAID THAT

Also honestly I love me some unreliable narrators (reader here imho isn't unreliable in her perspective being false or wrong but rather her deep deep love and devotion for simon can be almost blinding to other important perspectives like her own to also consider at times..) sometimes I just want to take her by her shoulders and stare her down and peptalk her aggressively just saying in increasingly louder volume "YOU ARE ALSO WORTHY OF LOVE, RESPECT, CARE, AND AFFECTION - THE SAME LEVEL, NOT NECESSARILY THE SAME WAY, YOU GIVE TO SIMON - AND THAT IS PERFECTLY FINE AND VALID"

Nine minutes and change later, you make the last turn and smile to see Johnny in sweat-soaked running clothes, propped up against a lamppost like he’s trying to pretend he’s there on purpose.

😂😂😂 "pretend he's there on purpose" WHO'S THE FUCKING DOBBER NOW

Johnny makes an acknowledging grunt and limps towards your car, and you swear his face looks a little more flushed than it was a minute ago....“Nah. Thanks for the lift.” Stubborn, and definitely embarrassed. 

oh look, pot, meet kettle...just two fucking dobbers (affectionate) who give like they have an infinite gaming glitch but hiss like those tiktok cats at the vet when they discover they *gasp* have their own needs

Johnny leans back on the couch to really look at you for the first time today, and it’s your turn to feel embarrassed. You feel like he’s somehow seeing more of you than is comfortable, and it makes you look away, towards the bright sky out the window.  “I should be getting back,” you deflect, tugging the keys out of your pocket. “I switched phones with him, and he might not like that when he wakes up.”

I can't explain how much I fucking love this first dynamic between reader and johnny sans simon. feels like watching a knifefight where their knives are their inability to just receive disguised as their sense of generosity and they keep holding themselves hostage hoping the other gives in/runs away lmao. also i'm re-reading this in later drafts and I have no idea if this makes sense sooo I apologize in advance for my latenight ramblin

You kiss him until you’re in love with his mouth...

🥰🥰🥰

also the flashback to their meet-cute (meet-wrestle?) is once again INCREDIBLE!!! as sex/touch-averse simon is, their body language speak volumes in those split-second matching responses to each others' reactions with the pendrop and the arm-wrestle tie. those magnetic "we click right away" interactions you have with certain folks is absolutely intoxicating

Simon’s not looking in your direction, but you can feel the ghost of his attention somehow, making you feel scrutinized and out of place here. You haven’t felt in place in so long, it’s like an ache in your chest.

I shivered at how good this line is!!!!! THE GHOST OF HIS ATTENTION- mmmpfffhhh

She proudly presents you with Simon’s number, scrawled in blue pen on her palm. And there, below it:  “You have lovely eyes”

my very first crush/love in high school also told me "I had lovely eyes" over AIM, made me very nostalgic 😂😂 Also can I just say laney you a real one; you went out of your way to go to bat for our girlie despite striking out yourself, a true sister indeed, pouring one out for you tonight

The sizzle of the onions begins to die as he closes the distance, and you shriek as he scoops you up into the air with a, “Where’s your fuckin knife now, you little ankle biter?”

i live for their horny-adjacent playfights

You wind back as far as you can, furiously smacking Simon’s ass with one solid hit, and you’re rewarded by his pained grunt and a satisfying sting to your palm.

fucking screeeeching

So, apparently Johnny is one of those absolute pieces of shit who can pick up any fine motor activity after the second or third try. 

I hate to expose myself like this but...*high-fives johnny*

It’s subdued now, in a way that would almost make you wonder if they’d been fighting about something, except that Simon still seems awfully relaxed. As he entwines your fingers, you realize it’s Johnny who’s bothered. Johnny, who's never bothered about anything, is now staring blankly at the TV, his eyes unmoving even though the players are darting across the field.

once again fascinated by the dynamic duos of this trio!!!! I told voidy once I read SDJ sometimes as a mystery/drama because I'm constantly edged kept in suspense about our trio's next moves and motivations

His fingers skim your jaw. “I don’t think you know… sort of… seeing how brave you are with all this. How much it helps.” 

my GOD. this plus my audible gasp when Simon finally touches reader sexually in ch. 10....beyond being incredibly sexy I also was very moved at the two (plus one) reaching this milestone and I have hornycried MULTIPLE times reading this fic

Everything these guys do feels sexy right now, and what’s worse is that Simon is sitting right across the table from you, and he’s thinking about you. It’s like he’s hit that sweet spot where he’s not so much in his head anymore, but he’s still a little turned on from what happened. You can feel it in his gaze, how it keeps wandering down the line of your shirt collar, keeps tracking the motion of your fingers while you hold your straw to drink. 

Being aware of anothers' attention and lust has got to be one of the most intoxicating and powerful feelings in the world 🥴

“Johnny,” you whine, desperate to get him to stop hurting himself. You need to stop enjoying this, you need to focus on his pain, but he’s making you forget yourself. He’s fucking you and holding your hand to the bed, and despite your best efforts, he’s making you need to cum. He’s making you hate your own pleasure, as it brings him more and more pain. 

the absolute deepdive into reader's psyche here in this little snippet is just *chef's french kiss*

When you get home that night, you take an everything shower. You paint your toenails and do your hair extra pretty, shave and lotion and basically make yourself as edible as you can be, because your baby’s coming home.  Suddenly you’re on your feet, sliding a little in your socks as you rush to meet him. He’s just finished flopping his bag onto the floor when your arms wrap around the most familiar, safe body you know, and then you’re home.

I get strong cuteness aggression vibes whenever I see reader being just absolutely adorable

You barely even comprehend how big he is, with how big this event feels in your heart.  So it’s bittersweet, seeing the aftermath of his success. You know it’s got to pain him, losing the control on his body and mind that he holds to such a standard in every other aspect of his life. He could have gone for years more, keeping a tight handle on things, dismissing the trauma and projecting that insecurity onto everyone else in unhealthy ways.  But he didn’t. He’s here, unable to even tolerate your touch just yet, with his lungs spasming and his eyes leaking in a way his father would find unforgivable. A grown man, coming to terms with his reality and letting others see his failings, people who love him. People he can depend on, not because of blood relation, but because he’s worked tirelessly to build and earn that deep kind of trust. 

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I basically cry-read this whole chappie and also stopped in my tracks and gasped out loud when simon asked to fuck reader and definitely got out of bed screeching victoriously with joy after they Finally Did The Deed

You gingerly sit up and do your best to keep the cum dripping down your thigh instead of onto the bed. God, that’s Simon’s cum. That’s the best cum in the world right there. 

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

You round the corner of the hall, only to see the door still wide open, and your boyfriend with his head bent down, resting on Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny has an arm wrapped around Simon’s head and another around his shoulders, fisting his shirt and holding him tight. “That wasn’t a small thing,” Johnny’s whispering, cheek to cheek with his friend. “That wasn’t a small thing, mate.”

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

I'll be quite honest if SDJ ended here with this incredible milestone I would've still been happy as a clam.. I believe all wins big and small are worth celebratin

It’s kind of weird that you’re here. Technically this is where you live, but all of a sudden you have this feeling of not belonging here, of being unnecessary in this moment. You feel like you’re just outside, looking in on Simon’s journey, without actually being too relevant to the path of it. It could have been anyone, really. Pretty much anybody with a heart would have given him the same kind of love, helped him get to this result. You just got lucky enough to come into his life first, but this would have played out the same with anyone. 

reader my sweet READER DID YOU NOT PAY ATTENTION TO MY EIGHT-PART PEP TALK WHITEBOARD POWERPOINT PRESENTATION OF HOW AMAZING YOU ARE? as painful it is for me to read how self-deprecating as she is here...her perspective also betrays truly how deeply she sees and loves simon in how lovable she perceives him to be (and how willing she is to give him the sort of patient, kind, long-suffering commitment and devotion I have heard mused and preached about that someone like simon, nay all of us need and want)

Okay, maybe that’s not entirely accurate. The truth is, you want to get used. You’re not even that horny anymore, you just need to feel like you’re desired and important and useful for something.

👀👀 the way voidy is fucking reading the writing on the wall of my brain/pussy is near psychic to me 👀👀

In a roundabout sort of way, being selfish right now and not worrying about anyone else might be what’s best for everybody. There’s only so much you can give. 

Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, with freshly moisturized skin and slightly tired eyes, and you have this unexpected wave of compassion for yourself. You’re only human. You had a big day, and a significant conversation, and you made it through the hard parts. Things are going to be okay now, because you chose right. You’ve poured yourself into people who actually deserve to have you, and it will all work out somehow in the end. 

🫂🫂🫂 i love this so much

He throws his legs over the side of the bed and stays there for a minute stretching his neck out, while you remain where you are, vibrating with anticipation. Finally he sighs and glances over his shoulder at you. “Suppose you’re allowed to get excited.”

the fucking GIGGLES that erupted from me... btw PSA if you haven't deduced it already i am madly in love with droll goofy SDJ simon and his dry-ass humor

You’re limp after that, merely a jellyfish washed up on the beach. Simon thinks it’s funny, keeps lifting your wrist in the air and then letting it flop to the mattress. He can’t even see it, but finds it entertaining all the same. 

god THIS FUCKIN SCENE i just fucking erupted in giggles but also teared at simon finding humor and joy and laughter in sex again

The anger is inescapable, bordering on full-on rage, though Soap’s face doesn’t move at all. He keeps it locked deep inside, reminding himself that this is good. This is healthy for Simon. This is what he’s always hoped for, companionship and romance for his large, quiet friend. The jealously is intrusive, and he doesn’t claim it as his own.

If I could I would happily spend hours picking through SDJ soap's brain like the basement book aisles at the strand bookstore.. I had a conversation with an IRL beloved recently about how we are only jealous with the things & people that matter most to us....oh johnny boy, don't be embarassed trying to dodge one of the most common and pervasive feelings known to humanity!!! follow the thread to your interior and let it show you something about yourself 👀 (or hell that's what I try to do when I've felt embarrassed about feeling jealous)

But the thing is, he doesn’t want to fuck anyone else. Everything here is so peaceful, even with the emotional turmoil. He can feel the acceptance in the air that these two have generated, soaking into his skin every time he visits here. Things aren’t okay, and that’s somehow okay. It boggles the mind.

ah what's the phrase, better the devil you know? I also fuck with the "finding comfort and familiarity in chaos" vibes though I am trying not to have that be my baseline norm of late

He hasn’t had a hookup since he started coming here. Far less sex than he’s grown used to, and yet he’s finding himself thinking about it less and less. It’s like the obsession with the chase and the release has finally lost its grip on him, and now the connection is what he finds himself thinking about. Fuck the connection. That’s the part that hurts people, and it honestly doesn’t make sense that he’s still feeling safe about it. It must be because they love each other. It’s a convenient buffer, the reason he decided to go through with this in the first place. The line has been drawn in the sand, and he just has to hope they’ll live up to their end of the bargain.

to this I'll just say my people, my IRL beloveds, are the people who saw and accepted me as I was, for who I am - and all my changing ebbs and flows throughout the years, even at my most broken and awful, and ironically their acceptance and love and care for me while I was at my lowest is what helped me more fully return to and be myself... I believe johnny is experiencing a glimpse of that here now 🥹 I am legally obligated to throw in one of my favorite quotes on this topic which I have mentioned before:

There is a twilight zone in our hearts that we ourselves cannot see. Even when we know quite a lot about ourselves-our gifts and weaknesses, our ambitions and aspirations, our motives and our drives-large parts of ourselves remain in the shadow of consciousness. This is a very good thing. We will always remain partially hidden to ourselves. Other people, especially those who love us, can often see our twilight zones better than we ourselves can. The way we are seen and understood by others is different from the way we see and understand ourselves. We will never fully know the significance of our presence in the lives of our friends. That's a grace, a grace that calls us not only to humility, but to a deep trust in those who love us. It is the twilight zones of our hearts where true friendships are born. - Henri Nouwen

Simon did it. It took years, and an angel of a girlfriend, but he fucking did it. It’s simply indescribable, the burst of hope flaming to life in Johnny’s chest. Good things can happen sometimes out of nowhere. Sometimes, in a random bed in a random city, the universe can push a piece back into place that was missing.

this has to be one of the most beautiful lines of prose I've ever read

You enjoy how safe your body feels with his touch, how it’s no longer a thought in your mind that he’s doing this out of pity. You’ve formed this strange sort of sexual bond, and friendship, and it makes sense to your pussy that he gets to touch it whenever he wants. 

ah, thinkin with the puss, we've all been there dear reader *pats the puss sagely* also such a simple sentence but one not to be taken for granted - no matter how hardcore the kink, feeling safety with your lover's touch is so so baseline important and crucial 💯

“Mhmm,” you tell Johnny, drawing out each syllable in a slow, breathy voice. “So sweet, and thoughtful, and you smell really… Mmmm... Really good.” Johnny raises his eyes to the ceiling, inhaling a long, frustrated breath. For what reason, you can’t imagine, because you’re certainly doing nothing wrong.

I am laughing my ass off because since first reading this voidy updated the chapter with the lovely @gorsime's incredible SDJ fanart and please, scroll down to the end of the chappie (ch 17) if you haven't seen it already

The guilt does start to hit a little, as you get dragged onto your actual boyfriendʼs lap, and a less-scruffy mouth presses to your cheek. You're being selfish. You've gotten too used to your wants being met, and you really need to dial it back down to just needs. This is simply a wakeup call, like hello, hereʼs reality, sometimes your own fingers are all you get, and thatʼs okay. 

I have wondered just how much of this was loosely choreographed & planned by johnny and simon for dear reader 👀

Up until now, sex with Johnny has been somewhat casual, and you haven’t embarrassed yourself too badly. But things are always different, when it’s Simon. Suddenly your heart’s in it. Suddenly your brain is pushed to the side, and all you can think about are brown eyes and big hands, and being as good as you can possibly be. And you’re unused to the feeling of having Johnny nearby when you’re so focused on giving yourself to Simon. 

once again, just deeply touched (and turned on) by the evolution of reader & simon's sexual relationship (good boy johnny)

He watches your eyes while his fingers trail down your belly, and to your utter shock you suddenly feel them on your pussy.

once again fuckin screamingggggggg! sometimes when you're in it for the long haul after seeing someone's borky bits and pieces, you'd be surprised how a bit (or more) of tender, trauma/person-specific love, kindness, care, and unusual paths of healing can have in speeding up the process of recovery...so much so that it can seem like a whiplash when you've resigned yourself to an eternity of seeing yourself/ur beloved as wounded/hurt and suddenly (but really not so suddenly!) you both meet A Healing/Healed version of Them/You - is this 2.0, or someone new? who knows!!!! what an adventure (it is currently 2am on a weeknight and I got work tomorrow as I ramble but I AM ON A ROLL also I made the mistake of telling voidy weeks ago that I thought I was gonna post this and hoo boy i am paying that price)

“Why don’t you go see Johnny?” Simon murmurs, giving your forehead one last kiss. “Get you something better than fingers.” “I think you should let her have something of yours,” comes Johnny’s voice, before you can begin to form a reply. “Cross my heart, I won’t look.”

literally yelled out loud omg HIS DICK? IS IT HIS DICK? HOLY SHIT SIMON'S DICK?????? the first time I read this

Your lungs know it’s happening before anything else does. They expand and then hold, and the next drop of your hips feels so good, as something deep inside you turns itself inside out. With a debilitating roll of sensation, you let out a pained cry and feel your cunt begin to brand itself onto him with pulse after pulse of your release.  It streams down your limbs and explodes in your belly, and it’s Simon who’s got you this time.

this is pure poetry!!! also something deep inside you turning inside out and streaming down your limbs has got to be one of the best descriptions of an orgasm ive read tbh ive only reeaally experienced a full-body endless orgasm after a ton of edging (like at least 15 min) which I don't have the patience or stamina for anymore ;-; but I still think about that One Magical Night from years ago when I did achieve this

It almost hurts to cum on something that big, but it’s a good kind of hurt.

🥴🤤🥴🤤 mmm iykyk but also yes, prep prep prep preparation is key

Your hand climbs up to his face, but instead of the rough five o’clock shadow you expect to find, the first thing you feel is something wet. He twists his face away, but it’s too late. You felt that line of dampness on the edge of his jaw. His fingers begin to stroke your hair, so you comfort him too. You run your hand across the muscled line of his shoulder, wishing there was something you could say to make it better. Maybe someday when you’re better with words, you can let him know how it feels to have him connected to you like this, to have both of your hearts wide open and witnessing each other. But all you can do right now is caress his neck and plant a little kiss on the skin you can reach, and whisper that you love him. That he’s doing such a good job, and you see his efforts. You see him. 

🥹🥹🥹🥹 AAAAND JUST LIKE THAT I AM CRYING AGAIN GOD THIS HAS TO BE SOME KIND OF NEW UNIQUE KINK IVE DEVELOPED WITH THE EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH OF THE HORNYCRYING OF IT ALL

“Doin’ alright?” he asks, hugging you back because he’s a very nice person. 

I am so so curious what soap was thinking as he witnessed this little miracle (which came about in no small part thanks to him, that soap, such a saint he is, so kind and selfless and giving and- *cut off by loud explosion*)

You know now, why he didn’t let you cum before. He let you think he was being mean, in order to give you an experience you never thought you’d have. Johnny gave that to you, for no reason other than he knew it would make you happy, and he was the only one who could.  The noise he makes when you take him into yourself is so Johnny. It’s half groan, half breathy laugh, mirroring the way he seems to see his sexuality as a game. He just wants you to play with him, that’s all. A little tug on his hair, a little smile while you kiss him, he eats it up. So you do it. You play with him for the noises, because he likes it. You can’t get enough of him, that’s the problem. Yeah, the sex is fun, and necessary at times, but you just like having him in your house. You like those hands that never hurt you, the sunshine in his voice, those eyes that know when to pretend they don’t see things. It’s just who he is. 

that post-nut clarity kickin in for reader I see

“Johnny, I like you.” You just barely catch the way his smile drops away, as you take him into your mouth. He’s in it now. No more flirting, no more foreplay. He’s ready for you to get him to your throat, and let him cum in it.

no noo too much post-nut clarity GO BACK READER GO BAC- 😂

“You don’t get to decide that what people need are the things you want them to need. Tea?”

HAHAHA SIMOOOOOOOON TENSION DIFFUSER EXTRAORDINAIRE

I just want to say, shoutout to all my girlies (gn) who can come from a shower head; that shit is just too laser-focused for me to get off 😵‍💫

The way you’d cried and cried over that. It hurts so fucking bad, missing him the way you do, while knowing there’s really no legitimate reason to feel sad. 

no legitimate reaso- GIRL HE TURNED YOU INTO A LITERAL SHOWER HEAD, JESUS HIMSELF WOULD WEEP-

He gave and gave, and in a weird way, it left you feeling used. It feels like he stole something from you, by not opening himself up in return.

✨oh, familiar pathways of coping and perceiving trauma responses, is that you✨

“Alright.” You hold the damp towel to your chest and stand there with a few feet of distance separating you, and give him the truth. “You don’t feel safe with me if Johnny’s not in the picture, and I don’t understand why.”

there's got to be something poetic about reader having this convo while butt nakey

What’s he playing at? He’s just standing there, looking at you like you’re something new and interesting. Like he’s redrawing some kind of perception in his mind, and enjoying the outcome. 

not even gonna lie, started crying reading that last line ruminating on how far simon has come... 🥹🥹🥹 so proud of these little freaks (supremely affectionate)

“You’re trying to turn me on, but tough titties, I’m already wet.”

reader is basically horny shakespeare to me 😘👌 fucking love her humor

“You’ll tell me if there’s anything you don’t like.” “I will,” you promise. He brings his mouth down to give you a kiss. “...Even if you think it’s something I want.” “You don’t get to have fun, only me,” you recite with a smile.  “Good girl.” You get rewarded with another soft kiss, and a firm circle over your clit. “Might have to fool around a bit, it’s been some years for me.” “I have my appointments cleared for the rest of the night.” “Mmmm.” He takes in a long inhale, curling his finger around the gusset of your underwear to start tugging it off. “I like you.”  ‘I like you too, baby.”

ur not crying im crying i mean wait what aNYWAY this is my umpteenth readthru of this because this fucking chapter!!!!! my god I was speechless the first few times around and in some sort of holy awe and pride and joy and deep in the feels from he SEX!!! THEY HAD SEX!!! WITHOUT JOHNNY AROUND!!! (but really, I see and hear echoes of johnny in simon's newly gained sexual confidence around reader 👀👀👀)

“Yeah, stuff it. What I bloody well mean is, I thought we’d have time. Because you and me, it’s… it’s going to be a long thing. And I thought we’d get there eventually, and we have.”

🥹🥹🥹🥹

“I won’t,” you promise, running your thumb across the scars on his cheek that you have to consciously notice to even remember they’re there. He’s just so beautiful. It’s not an opinion, or something you’ve talked yourself into, it just is. Some people will look the same however long you know them, but every now and then you meet a Simon Riley who’s just so wonderful that their face turns into something perfect in your eyes. 

I love them both so much 🥹🥹🥹🥹 is this not what love is, how reader sees simon

So apparently post-nut clarity Simon is fucking annoying.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

It makes you wonder if something inside him died tonight. Something other people put there, and you both just decided to kill it, because it was time.

once again...pure fucking poetry that has again, left me hornycrying...and again I'd die happy if this fic ended here. i mean, purely sexually speaking, hast thine service not been fulfilled here, loyal johnny boy 👀

I have a friend whose family used to raise seeing eye/service dogs on her farm growing up (yes yes I know her fam could've be doin numbers on the clock app today) and talked about how the training to weed out which puppos were eligible was clocking the ones who could most suppress their instincts & nature to obey and pre-empt needs in their obedience.... everytime I see one out in public I am always a little in awe of how professional it is but also a little secretly heartbroken at the same time for that little puppo that was trained out of itself so early...maybe projecting a little but sometimes I also feel some type of way at seeing that line boasting that Johnny is the youngest SAS recruit as his claim to fame also why i love 141 AUs so much where they are living their best civilian life untouched by war

He’s talking about something inside him, something that settled wrong in his heart today. He saw something about himself that scared him. Maybe it was something new, or maybe it was old and buried, but it violated his personal code in some way. There’s nothing you can do about that. You can’t reach into his chest and dig it out, as much as you wish you could. All you have are your eyes, looking at him now like he isn’t a monster at all, and he never could be.

this incredible fic is still ongoing but I am reminded in so many ways how powerful a simple word, a gaze, a touch, can be in reaching out to share and extend a bit of healing and love - and if that's too lofty a goal, then just to offer acknowledgement and presence.

I think of how much both reader and johnny and even simon with reader shortchange themselves so much throughout the story so far and yet the fruit of their consistent presence in each other's lives is so fucking masterfully crafted and yielded in the latter chapters in the most cathartically rewarding way. I know I am changed from reading about their tender and patient kindness and humor for each other so really to all the people moaning 'bout throuplegate let's be honest this is more of a polycule if we consider simon, reader, johnny, you, me, and voidy 😂😂😂

I mentioned approximately 17 years ago when I first started writing this ramble on asking, "how do we know when we are healed?"

my therapist and I had long, long chats about 'neuroplasticity,' but I knew it when my heart & mind & body responded to it all, combined with the love and support from my IRLs, by replacing one of my persistent nightmares with a new recurring dream - it's been a while, but I dreamt it again after reading SDJ the first time around, and I woke up smiling and crying thinking of simon & reader & johnny & voidy & you <3

I am sitting in a large patch of sunbeam streaming in through my window. my body, normally covered with blood and torn skin and shiny bits of glass leaking out from my wounds, looks different. As I sit in the sunlight my entire body becomes transparent, like oil, or the clear wax of a long burning candle. I become soluble enough to see all those jagged shards inside me and begin easily plucking them out one by one. I see now it's not just glass but claws, teeth, nails - old memories, but all still leftover and festering inside me. I wonder at the source of this change and notice where my heart would be is a wick, and sitting in the sunlight has lit it aflame. as I watch my body become clearer and clearer, I see the rest of all those shards fall out and my wounds softening, blurring, closing up. I move out of the sun and get ready to venture out. My heart still glows and burns steadily, and I remain solvent. Some people reach out with claws, teeth, nails - and find themselves horribly burned by the hot oil as they swipe harmlessly through me and leave no marks. Some people reach out with open hands and arms, and find themselves softening, melting and old wounds and scars under their skins blurring and closing up. I am envisioning where i used to see broken glass inside me, whole, healing, filled with light and water. Like a sunrise and morning inside me. 

all this to say, to voidy, and my fellow readers, and fic writers in general - thank you & I love you, for holding my hand and making my days and night a little bit softer & brighter 💛💚❤️‍🩹🌿✨

my fucking god I really really am genuinely contemplating making an invoice to submit to my insurance so that voidy can be duly compensated for tangibly contributing to my positive mental health and growth this year ✨✨✨ mwah mwah mwah mwah so many aggressively affectionate playfully nonromantic chef's kisses for you 💋💋💋 mwah mwah mwa mawh-[devolves into snoring from writing most of this in the wee midnight morning hours between colds, flus, traveling, tears, conventions, funerals, zooms, trains, planes, podcasts-]

A fuckin timely banger of a read from this morning’s commute:

“A sacrament is when something holy happens. It is transparent time, time you can see through to something deep inside time. Needless to say church isn’t the only place where holy happens. Sacramental moments can occur at any moment, at any place, and to anybody. Watching something get born. Making love. A walk on the beach. Somebody coming to see you when you’re sick. A meal with people you love. Looking into a stranger’s eyes and finding out they are not a stranger’s. If we weren’t blind as bats, we might see that life itself is sacramental.” - Frederick Buechner

🌿🌿🌿 thank you stevie for being my latenight crooner and ramblin companion

[madstronaut]

haha guess who's back, guess who is soooo bac-

🚄🚄🚄*gets bodyslammed by a train full of allergies and flu virus*🚄🚄🚄

[madstronaut]

What is a tv series you rewatch?

as an elder millenial I used to always let the show Friends run in the background growing up...and did multiple re-watches of Xena the Warrior Princess..but nowadays with streaming and Youtubers I regularly rewatch:

Markiplier's Alien: Isolation playthrough,

and Critical Role's Calamity one-shot (this is PEAK media and storytelling, fight me.)

[madstronaut]

GOD I MISSED YOU

😂😂😂

awww right back atcha voidy

i bellylaughed and watched this gif 15x, one of my favorites

[madstronaut]

What a month…helping multiple (!) friends from different social circles plan and pull off weddings and assisting with avoiding and managing and defusing and heading off family drama is no joke 😭

I will be catching up to taggies and DMs and such after a very, very, very, very, very long nap or five

[madstronaut]

PSA: i am an absolute sucker for meet-cutes

ya know what's funny? every time I have the passing thought wondering if I'll run out of fic I've bookmarked to (lovingly) rant about, my moots/cod writers never fail to deliver new bangers after bangers... at this rate my bookmark folder is bursting at the seams and threatening to explode into a big flaming glorious ball of confetti and words and emotions and tears (mine, my tears, those are all mine-)

I have also had the most exhausting past few weeks and seeing memes crop up about "becoming important at work is ruining my life" hit a little too real for me to laugh without crying a teeny bit but you know who i know got me? FANFIC WRITERS MY BELOVEDS THAT'S WHO 💖💖💖 (whom? fuck idk anymore how did I even get my job when I fuck up basic grammar lol)

I have been listening to Posty's new country song with Dolly Parton and it feels incredibly gaz-coded to me... I recently went karaoke-ing and let me tell you I would flirt hardcore by alternately winking constantly/making deep unblinking eyecontact into kyle's baby browns while singing this song anyway sorry totally sidetracked by daydreaming about making out with gaz and then wearing nothing but his hat while i ride his d- [rest of sentence drowned out by dolly parton's bridge]

ok fuck THE FIC WHERE WAS I BACK TO THE FIC

Reading: Firefighter!Kyle by @stellewriites

mdni!! cw: johnny makes a quick remark about reader’s pussy when trying to be funny and to wind up kyle part two to this - might make it a

ok to start mister mistoffelees!!!!!!! what a name I swear cat owners give their pets the wildest names (I met someone who had two cats named porterhousesteak and shakeandbake - both names were pronounced like one word) (also on the off-chance charlotte if you're reading this, let's pretend we are two ships passing in the night and you can ignore my videogame military men thirstblog and i'll ignore the names you chose to bestow on your pets)

and even before stelly described him I KNEW HE WAS AN ORANGE CAT 😂

also I have not read or seen Cats the book/musical/movie prior to reading this fic but this made me want to so that I can flirt with stelleverse!kyle

“please misty, my arms are tired and my neighbours have probably already lost all respect for me,” you groaned. it turned into a huff when he turned away to clean his paws, ignoring you again. “you win! there, happy? you furry little orange devil, you fucking win!”

🤭🤭🤭 ok but let's be real we've all been there pleading with pettos and having full-on one-sided conversations with em

you pulled out your phone and skimmed the articles you’d pulled up advising you on how to get a stuck cat out of a tree.

*running to google* also is this not the most millenial/gen-z thing to do!!!! lmao the things I have googled....

“ah that looks like a job for our best man, don’ya agree, si? think this requires garrick’s expertise,” the man said again, smirking at the man sat next to him up front.

we stan a man who sees someone and goes "that's my mate's type" i feel like soap would be such a good wingman

“oi! i’d be happy to help the bonnie thing with their pussy, but ah thought you might appreciate stretching yer legs,” ‘tav huffed from the window.

irl men saying this to me: mace to the face first, questions later

fictional video game men saying this line to me: *practicing deep lunges so I can open my legs for them even wider*

“ahh ok,” kyle nodded. he tested the balance of the ladders against the tree. “musical or book?” my mum used to love t. s. eliot, so i know probably more than i should about it,” he joked, slowly reaching his hand out for misty to sniff at.

NERDY MAMA'S BOY THEATER LOVER CAT WHISPERER HIMBO KYLE MY BELOVED (seriously stelly just took all my fucking weaknesses and rolled them into firefighter!kyle)

“it’s what we’re here for,” kyle said easily, shrugging as he came to stand before you. “plus, it’s always easy when the callers are so pretty.” “hah! right, yeah he’s a cutie,” you said and wiggled your fingers at misty, letting him bat at them. kyle waited for you to look up before replying. “i meant you,” he said a little sheepishly.

"he said a little sheepishly" that cat better get back in that tree to make space cos I'd be taking a running leap into his arms after rizzing me up like that

“like, how? on the emergency number?” you hinted. “ah fuck,” he swore and patted at his pockets. you heard the scotsman laugh from the truck and hid your own teasing smile behind your hand.

SCCREEEAAAMMMING

I would be remiss not to include this cute little challengefic stelly wrote that I have daydreamed about multiple times after reading (I usually picture gaz or soap here when I read about college/uni!141)

throwing my hat in for @the-californicationist’s nameless challenge! 600+ words, sfw, gn!reader, no content warnings it’s all fluff. don’t

the fic also reminds me of the large lectures I attended in college (I was a solid sit near the middle or 2/3 up the room but never allll the way in the back student) where I observed in no particular order:

several randos watching various LOTR movies on their laptop

watching Pirates of the Caribbean and Dragon Ball Z was also super popular

also anime porn! FUCKING WHY THO SIT AT THE VERY BACK IF YOU'RE GONNA DO THIS YOU FUCKING DEGENERATE I DID NOT NEED TO SEE THAT IN MY SOPHOMORE LINGUISTICS LECTURE

also re: chronic anime porn purveyor -> seeing a girl straight up go over and unplug his charger from the wall socket AND his laptop and just WALK AWAY WITH IT 😂🙌 (my queen I still think about you from time to time after all these years, I oft pray to match a thimbleful of your energy)

girl playing Pokemon Red on an emulator on her laptop (I was riveted and also went to search and download the same and got lost in the sauce burning through all the pokegames for a hot minute too...THANK YOU ARIA!!!!!!!!)

guy playing tetris on his comp at an INSANELY god-tier speed level; i'm positive he did it for an audience because i swear i saw people attempting to look for and sit behind him to observe him during classes to watch his ass play (noooo this wasn't me who said that also he was kinda cute in a 'you are very competent in this weirdly niche area and i find that kinda hot' way)

girl dropping $800+ on topshop website (am I dating myself mentioning topshop lol is it still around?!?!)

guy speedwriting a paper for another class and turning it in - all during a totally unrelated class, honestly was impressed

girl flawlessly applying liner, lipstick, and a glitter topper without spilling or getting the glitter everywhere (btw at a 9am lecture? slay sis)

anyway can you tell i went to a very large uni lol OK WHERE WAS I BACK TO FIC BACK TO FIC

you stared at the screen unblinkingly, thoroughly distracted from your course and the discussion around you until a hand holding a slip of paper appeared at your shoulder in your peripheral. you flicked your eyes up and found the professor busy facing the board and took the chance to swivel in your seat to look up at the one above yours and the handsome man that currently claimed it.

I can physically feel my pupils popping til they engulf my eyes as I read this - also I loved the premise of this challenge (cali my beloved making bangers as usual @the-californicationist) with people having to guess who the chara was! one of the verrrry first fics I read in cod fandom was an insert-blorbo-of-your-choice-here x reader that I looooooooooved; I find the fill-in-the-blank aspect verrrry titillating✨

“i could maybe think of some way you could thank me,” he acquiesced, smile turning sly. “better concentrate on the front of the class for now though.” he nodded forward.

can also physically feel my pupils turning to heart eyes at this line 😍UNFFFF YES YES LET'S HAPPILY BRAINSTORM THE MANY MANY M A N Y WAYS I COULD THINK OF THANKING YOU GOOD SIR

i met some of my best mates (and earned some wild stories to boot) at uni, as they say over on the other side of the pond, and all the fun cute chaotic little moments of serendipity sprang back up when I read stelly's works and made me feel incredibly nostalgic 🥰🥰🥰 going old school and pulling out my 2008 neutrogena lipgloss out of memory lane for my chef's kisses for yooouuuuu mwahmwahmwahmwah😙👌😙👌😙👌😙👌

[madstronaut]

I have to check myself before I reblog beautiful places/locations because 80% of the time my go-to caption is "I WANNA FUCK HERE"

^ also how I view myself after I edit my captions 😅