Lovely Hii

The ghoulettes would offer to kill people's exes in the bar bathroom. They would share lipgloss and hand cream while doing it. They're entirely serious.

was telling my therapist about how i've always used books, fanfic, and storytelling as escapism but now instead of me consuming stories, stories consume me. dalton gave me The Look (the one that means he's gonna say something i need to hear but don't want to) before asking, "you know that snake that eats itself?" to which i said, "yeah, ouroboros." and he replied, "i didn't know he had a name, that's cool. anyway, you're the snake. i know you've convinced yourself the consumption is filling, but it's not. when it's you you’re eating, it's destruction."

like yeah i know that’s not what the snake represents and ex-cowboy-turned-combat-vet-turned-trauma specialist dalton probably does not know the exact symbolism behind it but like. jesus christ man did that to lay me to waste at 10:30 on a wednesday morning.

and even though he hurt my feelings with the truth, it did put it into perspective for me.

it’s not levity’s lighthouse guiding me to port when depression’s darkness and anxiety’s turbulent waves make it difficult for me to sail smoothly on my voyage.

it’s not a way to alleviate my symptoms, it’s a manifestation of them.

it’s a compulsion, deceptively insidious when cloaked in distraction’s pseudo-warmth. when easily covered by procrastination’s much easier to swallow explanation.

and i’m sure you want to say “but reading is a healthy coping mechanism!”

and it is. when done in moderation.

it’s no longer coping when your screen time is 16 hours a day. when 12 of those hours a day are spent scuttling about ao3 on all fours. when you sit in the same spot on the couch for hours on end with your head buried in the sand. when it’s literally all you can think about.

the consumption isn’t coping. isn’t creation. isn’t reconstruction or rebirth or reformation. it’s chaos. it’s compulsion.

it’s cannibalism.

So @crimsonclergy made this post and I started scribbling thoughts immediately because it was just too sweet and my brain wouldn't let me rest about it!

Cw: just the slightest touch of angst, it's not heavy but Dew's sappy and a feeling pops up but it's ok. Boys being soft, I used Phantom because that was the name in the og post 😊

Phantom leads Dew down the hall toward his room with big bright eyes and excitement buzzing off of him. It's flattering, for him to be so excited to finally get Dew in his room, to get him into his bed.

Dew had kept his distance, certain wounds only now scarring over. He was still hesitant but he couldn't deny that pull to Phantom, his sweet smile, his soft voice, everything about him screamed I promise I'm safe, I promise you're safe with me.

So here he is. Hand in hand with the quint, and finding himself mirroring his excitement.

He's not entirely sure what he expects when Phantom opens the door. Being shoved against it maybe, stripped and touched and pinned to the mattress. It's welcome, more than welcome really....

He's certainly not expecting for Phantom to squeeze his fingers when he shuts the door, he's not prepared for the soft lighting in his room or the nest of blankets on the middle of his bed. He's not prepared for Phantom to toe off his shoes and stop there, gently nudging Dew to do the same.

"Phantom..."

"S'ok. Promise, trust me. Just a little."

And he wants to say he does, he wants to tell him he doesn't have to do all this, it's really not necessary but then Phantom turns those big mismatched eyes on him and he can't say anything at all.

He guides Dew to the bed and he sits with tension settling in the base of his spine, a weird sense of the unknown making him itch just under the skin. This isn't how it usually is, sure he's had softer nights with gentle hands and lips on his, but this feels... different.

Phantom joins beside him, shoulders all the way down pressed close and Dew doesn't quite understand yet.

"Just relax Dew." He's smiling, he can hear it without having to look over. He feels Phantom move to turn the lamp off and he thinks it's time, that now maybe it'll make sense in a way he understands.

But he hears another click and the ceiling lights up with thousands of artificial stars. They spin and swirl and Dew just stares dumbfounded.

"What-" There's so much he wants to say, to ask but he can't get the words to come out. He's used to other bodies on top of him, kissing, touching, marking, but somehow this feels like more.

"Well I wanted to do this for real but it's been so slushy and gross out. Figured this was the next best thing..." He shrugs, the length of his arm dragging over Dew's.

He turns his head and when Phantom does the same their noses touch. The brightness in Phantom's eyes rivals the actual stars outside when he smiles, a soft blush on his cheeks as Dew let's his words sink in.

"It's not...it's just..." Phantom sighs. "I just wanted to have something like this...with you."

"Thank you." He lays his hand on Phantom's cheek, brushing over the little starburst splotches on his skin, bumping their noses again. "Thank you."

He scoots down just to lay his head against Phantom's chest, the quints arm wrapping around him and holding him tight. Dew smiles a little when he realizes Phantom's heart is beating just a little faster than normal.

They lay in silence for a bit before Phantom lifts his hand and points out a constellation.

"Do you know that one?"

And he does, he knows them all and his chest aches, a dull pulse like a bruise when he remembers that all too familiar voice teaching him all about them. He shoves it back, tucks it away safely in the back of his mind. It doesn't hurt as badly anymore but he doesn't need it right now.

He doesn't need that echo of a voice when he's got Phantom right here, going out of his way just to give Dew something special, when he's got his heart beating right under his ear and his arms around him like it's important, like he's important.

Dew pulls in a deep breath to steady himself, to quiet his mind. The snow covered apple scent of Phantom sinking into his veins carrying peace right along with it.

He shakes his head. "No, I never could tell them apart."

"Oh. Well I could teach you. If you want...I could show you." He speaks so softly but he can feel how earnest he is and Dew realizes with a shock through his system just how much he already loves him.

He didn't think he could, he didn't think he had enough space for him too without losing someone else. But he manages. Phantom makes space without stealing it and Dew loves him.

His throat is tight when he finally speaks. "Yeah Phantom, tell me about them. I'd like that."

Phantom doesn't comment on the shake in Dew's voice or the way his shirt gets just a little damp by Dew's eyes, but he holds him tighter as he points out the stars he knows so well, happy to finally share them with Dewdrop.

nanami is a disciplined man, a creature of habit. he wakes up early, gets ready for work with precision, and leaves the house on time. but there is one part of his routine that he refuses to rush—those ten precious minutes before he has to leave, where he gets to hold you, kiss you, and remind you just how much he loves you.

this morning is no different. the alarm has gone off, but instead of getting up immediately, nanami rolls over, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. you’re still half-asleep, curled up under the blankets, but you hum softly when his lips brush over your shoulder.

“i need to get up,” he murmurs, though he makes no effort to move away. his hand slides over your waist, warm and steady, pulling you closer.

“no,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep as you nuzzle against his chest. “stay.”

nanami exhales a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you know i can’t,” he says, though he sounds just as reluctant as you feel.

“you can,” you argue, tilting your head up so he has no choice but to kiss your lips next. he does, soft and lingering, as if you’ve got him under a spell. maybe you do. maybe you always have.

“ten minutes,” he whispers against your lips, a reminder for himself more than for you.

those ten minutes belong to you. they always do.

his hands wander, tracing over your back, memorizing the warmth of your skin. his lips press over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, before returning to your lips like he’s drawn to them. he whispers between kisses, voice low and reverent.

“i love you.”

kiss.

“i love you so much.”

kiss.

“you make it impossible to leave.”

another kiss, deeper this time, until he hears you sigh against him, fingers curling into his shirt like you’ll never let go.

“so don’t,” you plead, and nanami’s resolve wavers. it always does when it comes to you.

“you’ll be the death of me,” he groans, burying his face in your neck again. “if i call in, it’s your fault.”

“i’ll take full responsibility,” you promise, and he knows you’re smiling even with your eyes still closed.

he exhales, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your lips before finally—reluctantly—pulling away. “i’ll come home early,” he assures you, smoothing your hair. “and then i’ll make it up to you.”

“you’d better.” you mumble, already drifting back to sleep as he tucks you under the blankets.

nanami lingers at the door for a moment, watching you, memorizing you, before finally stepping out.

but even as he leaves, his heart stays with you.

i hope that in 2025 u get to take more walks, read more books, connect with more people whom u love and who love u, achieve ur goals (even if ur goals are having no goals and just living in the moment), exercise fun hobbies, move from a place of self-direction, and weave together a beguiling assortment of beautiful little moments. remember that no feeling lasts forever. love u

AaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAaaAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Surprise🐾