#am I making sense...? I kind of have sick person's brain right now still

[meownotgood]

Is canon aki mean? In any case whether he’d be annoyed, irritated or just having a horrible rough day would he be mean to his s/o canonically?

no, he isn't mean at all. aki is easily the kindest character in the entire manga, in fact. his identity as a character centers around his complete and utter selflessness, even towards those he says he doesn't like.

aki has a strong sense of morals, so he can be serious or strict at times. he keeps a cold facade because he can't have people knowing how he really feels, and because it's the only way he can continue on in such a horrible world. but he's never outright mean, nothing he does is out of spite.

he's rude towards denji at the beginning of the manga because he knows devil hunters who don't know what they're getting into often end up dying, he's trying to protect denji in this way. and at the beginning, he still carries a lot of blind hate towards devils. but all of his values end up getting tested as the manga goes on and he finds he cares deeply for denji and power, because that's just the kind of person he is.

so I don't think he'd ever be mean to someone who he loves. sometimes, he can get irritated, but he would never take it out on you. actually, I think being near you would help to calm him down. he would want your presence and company after he's had a really terrible day.

[eideticmemory]

ALONE TOGETHER | SPENCER REID

A chance meeting on a dating app spirals into an odd type of…friendship? Relationship? Who knows, but it means a lot to you.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warning/Includes: Excessive smut, fluff, 7 year age gap.

You are so sick of crying. You are nauseated from lying in bed, staring at a ceiling fan that does nothing but spin. You’re angry. You’re restless. You’re impulsive. And it is this impulse that takes you on Bumble, but more specifically, makes you set you preferred range between the ages of exactly twenty-eight and forty. You think, I just need someone to pay attention to me. You think, I need someone to make this go away because I just can’t.

Old men are gross, but they like you. They just can’t get enough of you. You’re flooded with hundreds of admirers, but you rarely match with any of them. You swipe. You swipe again. Again and again and it is with the teeniest, tiniest little bit of hope that you wish for someone to take your breath away. You wish for a man with a pretty face and kind eyes and a name that sounds nice when you say it with a moan.

And there he is.

Spencer. Age 30. 5 miles away.

You actually gasp.

You swipe right and it is a match!

You gasp!

It’s up to you to make the first move. There’s prompts you could send, questions you could ask, and just down the street, Spencer, who has just landed back home recieves a message only saying -

Hey :)

He immediately covers the notification on his phone as he exits the jet. When he swiped on your profile, truthfully, he didn’t expect a match. Let alone a message. So in less than three seconds, he becomes anxious and flustered and cannot stop shaking his hands because he can’t feel his fingertips.

He waits until he’s alone to message you back. He has no idea what to say, no idea if you’re even still interested, but down the street, you are lying on your belly and kicking your feet and you get a reply -

Hi, [y/n] :) How are you?

It’s not a lot but Spencer feels like he’s going to pass out.

You squeal, cover your mouth and type: Good! How are you?

And Spencer doesn’t even know how to answer the question. It’s not a hard question, it’s not a trick question, but he can’t figure out what to say so he stays objective.

I’m okay. I’m leaving work now.

You furrow your eyebrows, A little late, isn’t it?

He chuckles under his breath, Kind of early for me, actually.

Here, is where you decided to get bold. You make the decision before you even figure out what to say. How to say it.

I’m sure you’re worn out from a long day. Was hoping I could see you tonight. If not, maybe another time?

And aside from the millions of things that rush through his head, that are always rushing through his head, the first thing he thinks is: Oh, god, I wish Morgan were here. Although Spencer’s a little mad at him at the moment, he knows Morgan would tell him what to say. But no one’s here. It’s just him, pacing the empty halls of the bureau, a satchel with tums in it, and a pretty girl trapped inside his phone that wants to see him in person.

He types and he goes back, he types and he goes back, and then he asks, Do you like coffee?

You smile as you type, I love coffee.

So he has you meet him at this coffee shop in town. You stand outside, cradled in a cozy jacket, your hands stuffed in your pockets. Spencer sees you before you see him. And anyone with common sense would’ve walked up to you right away. Except, Spencer doesn’t really have common sense. He’s worried that you’ll figure that out. Still, he walks over to you and you’re only alerted by the sound of his timid footsteps. You turn to him with a grand smile and he immediately forgets how to breathe.

“Hi,” you greet him, holding your hand out. “Spencer?”

He looks down at your hand and then back at you and then back at the floor and your brain goes: ???

“Are you…not Spencer?”

“No, no, I am. Me…Spencer, yes. I just…I don’t like to shake hands.”

“Oh,” you retract, hold your hands behind your back.

“I mean not that there’s anything wrong about your particular hands. They’re just dirty- Not! Not-you’re not dirty, I know, you smell really good. I…” he stops, takes a breath, “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering, it’s actually, uh, safer to kiss.”

You tilt your head at him for two reasons. One, because you cannot believe he just used the word pathogens in casual conversation. And two, because you take his fun fact as a challenge that is readily accepted. You step towards him, slowly, because with the way his eyes go wide, it looks like he might run away. He grips onto the strap on his satchel so hard that his knuckles turn paper white. He goes cross eyed trying to look at your face as you lean in. And with a tiny smirk on your face, you press your lips to his.

It’s kinda, awkward. Spencer stays frozen in place and you mush your face into his and he doesn’t start to lean into you until the last second.

His face has gone bright red and you smile and say, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice t-to meet you,” he stutters.

You look around, “What is this place?”

“Oh, um, it’s, uh, it’s a coffee shop. It’s also a library. It’s, uh, it’s open late and I come here a lot when I can’t sleep.”

“It’s cute,” you smile.

He holds the door open for you and buys you a latte and you two sit at a table by the window. You sit in silence for a minute, neither of you really sure what to say and then when you do go to speak, you do it at the same time. It cuts the tension and you both laugh.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“I, uh, I was just going to ask if you’re from here?”

“Oh, oh no, I just moved here for med school. I’m in my first year at Georgetown.”

“Oh! Nice. That’s cool.”

“Yeah, it’s alright so far. We’ll see how I’m doing in the spring.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

You smile, “What do you do? What has you getting off work so late?”

“I’m, um, I’m a profiler…for the FBI. I, uh…”

“Analyze criminal behavior,” you nod. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard of that. I love forensic sciences.”

He can’t help but smile at you, “Yeah. It’s tiring but I like it,” he shrugs.

The conversation goes dead again and you sip on your latte, “Should we…should we just keep asking each other questions?”

“I guess so.”

“Okay, I asked the last question so it’s your turn.”

“Um…” he ponders. “What’s your favorite color?”

You snicker and he instantly puts his face in his hands out of embarrassment. You giggle, “My favorite color? Seriously?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else,” he shakes his head, smiling, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Blue. You?”

“Purple.”

“Ooh, that’s a fun one.”

“I like it. Okay, your turn.”

“Okay, um, what’s your biggest fear?”

He raises his eyebrows at you.

“What? We got the favorite colors out of the way.”

He nods, agreeing, “Having nothing to show for my life.”

You nod, “Same. Your turn.”

“Why do you want to be a doctor?”

“Oh. You got me with that one. Um…because I’m not squeamish and I’m good under pressure and I want…to make a difference. Y’know, actually do something with all this ambition. Aaaand, I’m good with anatomy. I’m good with people. I like medicine.”

“Did you say all of that in your interview?”

“That’s two questions…” you grin.

He chuckles, “You can ask me two.”

“No…I told them what they wanted to hear. And admissions doesn’t wanna hear that you’re doing this for yourself. They wanna hear that you’re selfless, Mother Theresa, Princess Diana selfless.”

“And you’re not selfless?”

“That’s three!”

“Okay, okay, your turn,” he laughs.

“How’d you get into the FBI?”

“Um, about 8 years, 11 months and 3 days ago, I attended a lecture on criminology hosted by some members of the BAU. I…became fixated. I wanted to join. I wanted to make a difference-“

“Oh now you’re just copying me.”

He chuckles, “I applied and, uh, yeah.”

“That’s so cool,” you tell him. “So you’ve been working there since you were…22?”

“Yes.”

“How did you become a profiler at 22? It takes forever, I thought?”

“That’s three!” he laughs.

“Oh, c’mon! You can’t leave me on a cliffhanger here.”

“I, um, I graduated college when I was 16. Had my Phd at 20. I’m…not the fittest guy so I skipped a lot of physical assessments.”

“16?” you gasp.

“That’s four!”

“20?” you shout. Emphasis on the ???

“That’s five!”

“Oh, no, nuh-uh, forget that, you’re filling me in on this.”

And so, he does. He tells you everything. About the eidetic memory and the IQ of 187 and you just sit there in awe. You fire questions at him and the last one is, “What’s…” you type in your calculator. “34 times 106?”

“That is a different genre of question.”

“But what’s the answer?”

He sighs and shakes his head, “3,604.”

You look at the calculator and he’s right and you gasp, “You’re a fucking genius.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.”

“Are your parents geniuses?” you ask.

“My dad is a…” he pauses. “I guess the colloquial term is deadbeat?”

You burst into laughter but quickly cover your mouth. That’s not funny. But Spencer is smiling.

“And…my mom is…smart. Yeah, she’s a genius.”

“Is she…dead?”

“What?”

“You just got, like, super sad there.”

“She’s not dead. She, uh, she has schizophrenia.”

“Oh. I’m an asshole.”

“A little bit,” he chuckles. “But, I’m-I’m not sad…she’s been that way my whole life.”

You can see on his face that it’s a sore subject, so you say, “Okay. Your turn. Ask me a question.”

And he wants to ask something that will get you talking. Something he can poke around like you have at his brain.

“Who is…” he starts. “Your very best friend?”

He asks this as you’re taking a sip of your latte and you very suddenly slam your cup down on the table.

“Whoa,” he says.

“Sorry.”

“No, no, I’m…I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I haven’t spoken to her since I moved. Any of them. I…we…we had a disagreement.”

Spencer studies your face, “How many friends are we talking about here?”

“Three,” you spit out. “Three. I’ve had the same three friends since I was twelve and I’m not talking to any of them.” Your hands shake around your mug and you clear your throat, avoid eye contact.

Spencer feels so bad for dulling your light that he doesn’t even know what to say. He knows it’s an illogical guilt, but a strong and pulsating guilt nonetheless.

He watches you take an anxious sip of your drink and he sighs, “Today’s my birthday.”

You almost spit out your latte, your hand flying to your mouth, all of your own thoughts and worries dissipating as you look him in the eye, “You’re…you’re kidding?”

“No.”

“You’re joking. You’re just saying that to distract me. A psychology trick.”

“As of…” he checks his watch. “Twenty-three hours and ten minutes ago, I’m thirty,” he can hardly say it. “Thirty years old.”

You sit for a moment. You realize your mouth is wide open so you close it. You realize your eyes are wide so you shrink them. You stutter, “You’re…not kidding?”

“No. I’m thirty, and I…worked a case for days straight and…and it was awful and we were too late and…I’m scared I’ll sound self-centered…”

“And…” you encourage him.

“And…it wasn’t enough. The case. The chaos. It wasn’t enough. I hoped…I hoped it would help. That I would…that I would get so lost in the rush that…that I’d forget I’m having an emotional crisis. I don’t know how to be thirty. I don’t know how to be an adult. I’m a child progidy…I’m a child prodigy and now I’m thirty so, what does that make me? What am I now?”

The question hangs in the air because you cannot answer it. You just reach across the table, put your hand over his, and trace his knuckles.

He releases a long sigh, “I’m having an emotional crisis and I’m thirty and my-my team…my friends…my family, the closest thing I have to a family…they, um, they forgot. And it was…it was a really bad case, it was a really tough case and it was enough for them to forget. But not me. It wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets you take his hand in yours, your pathogen ridden hand, and he can hardly look you in the eye.

“Hey…” you whisper.

His eyes flicker up to you and he looks so sad.

You give him a small grin, “Let’s get out of here.”

He lets you drag him outside into the cold air and the two of you stand under the soft light.

“Do you drink?” you ask him.

“Um. No. No, I used to do drugs so I’m scared if I drink, I’ll forget to…not do drugs.”

“Oh!” you raise your eyebrows. “Okay, fair enough. So, no weed then?”

“I…” he laughs. “You do know I’m a federal agent?”

“Ah! So scary!”

He cackles, “No marijuana.”

“Marijuana,” you roll your eyes, “Okay…okay…” you look around and the city is asleep. It’s cold. Another block over, there are clubs and people fighting the weather for a chance to party. Spencer does not want to party. “Okay, my place?”

He looks at you, “What are we going to do there?”

“Have a birthday party!”

“I don’t want a party…”

You pout, look around, “Do you want a donut?”

He nods.

You grab a couple donuts from a late night bakery down the road and you drive him back to your place. He grips onto the door as you whip your car into another lane, his breath trembling.

“Dude, chill out,” you tell him. “I’m a good driver.”

“Good…in the way that tsunamis are good waves.”

You look over at him and your eyes lock and he smirks at you. It has you so flustered that you’re quiet for the rest of the drive.

You let him inside your apartment and close the door as you two step into the entryway.

“Okay, wait here,” you tell him, quickly taking the donuts and taking off into the kitchen.

“What? Why?”

“Just wait!”

He can hear you banging around, drawers opening and slamming shut. Things falling to the floor. You muttering, “Shit!” under your breath. You rush by him and into the living, so quickly that his brain can hardly process it.

“Okay!” you call. “Come in!”

He slowly steps inside, a bit anxious at first, but then he sees you and his shoulders relax.

You finish lighting the last candle and look up at him, throw your hands in the air, “Happy birthday!”

His face breaks out in this great, big smile and he can’t help but laugh. It’s not much. One single glazed donut with chocolate, sprinkles and candles on top.

“Three candles?” he questions, stepping over to the coffee table.

You stand beside him as he sits on the couch, “Well, yeah, three because three and then none because zero. Three zero. Thirty!”

He furrows his brows, “Actually-“

“Hush,” you cut him off, putting your hands on his shoulders, “You gotta blow out your candles.”

So he goes to blow them out and you shout, “Wait!” and his heart stops for a second. “I have to sing the song?”

“Oh, no, really, I don’t need the-“

“Haaaaappy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”

He covers his face to blush and laughs into his hands.

“Happy birthday, dear Spencer, happy birthday to you! Mwah,” you kiss his cheek. “Now make a wish!”

“Okay, I wish-“

“Whoa, stop! What are you doing? You can’t say it out loud, it won’t come true.”

“Well, actually-“

“The candles are melting.”

“Yep, right,” he nods. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, makes a wish and blows out all three candles.

You cheer and clap your hands. You go to remove the candles from his donut and stop, “Oh. Should I? Can I?”

“You’ve already touched it. I think, uh, that ship has sailed.”

You take out the candles and sit down beside him, “Should I have picked it up with my mouth?”

He giggles and picks up his donut, holds it out to you, “Cheers,” he smiles.

You pick yours up from the table and touch it to his, grinning, “Cheers.”

As you eat your donuts together, you can’t help but watch him. “I hope this made your birthday a little better.”

He shoves the last of his donut in his mouth and the corner of his lips is covered in chocolate, “It did,” he says with a full mouth.

You chuckle and lean in, wiping the chocolate from his lip with your finger and sticking it in your mouth.

He watches you, chewing slowly until he swallows and clears his throat, “Is this…is this weird to do with someone you just met on bumble? Genuine question because I have no frame of reference.”

Your mouth turns up in a small smile. And you nod. Slowly, quietly, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s a little weird. But I’m having fun.”

“Me, too.”

You look around, awkwardly rolling your next words around your head until you can say them out loud, “Do you…wanna do something that’s…not weird with someone you met on bumble?

His raises his eyebrows at you, “What’s that?”

You take a sip of water, eyeing him in your peripheral and set down your bottle. You lean your body into his and this time, Spencer is ready. You catch his mouth on yours and he kisses you back, even though his heart is racing under your palm. Your hand travels down his chest, over his tummy, and to the hem of his pants.

His breath catches in his throat as you kiss his neck, “What…what are you doing?”

You pull away and undo his pants, taking his cock in your hand. He whimpers and his body goes limp and you furrow your eyebrows at him, “It’s your birthday?” you explain. And then you kiss him again.

His neck. Down to his chest. Down to his tummy. And Spencer watches you drop down to your knees in front of him and he goes, “Oh, my god,” and he only says it once but his brain keeps going: oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god.

“Is…is this okay?” you ask.

But he can’t talk! He can hardly breathe! You’ve got his dick in your hand and he’s looking at you with these wide eyes and you look perfect and he’s just worried that he’ll bust all over you before you get a chance to do anything. So, he nods. He nods and nods and nods and leans his head back.

You smile and with a few pumps of your hand, his whole body tenses up. He grips onto the couch and struggles to breathe. Then your mouth is on him and he goes limp. Dead weight, not a feeling in his arms or legs or chest, just the warmth of your mouth around his cock, taking it all the way to the back of your throat. His nails scratch at the fabric of the couch and as undignified as it feels, Spencer gets noisey.

You bob your head, up and down, in slow and sticky motions, swirling your tongue over his tip and a loud moan burst from the back of his throat.

“Oh…oh, my god,” he pants.

You move your mouth on him and run your hand up his tummy, feel it heaving up and down in your palm. He nearly breaks a nail on the couch so he grabs onto your hand, squeezes it really tight and groans. The sounds he’s making are so whiny and breathless and sexy that you have to squeeze your thighs together before you go leaking down your legs.

His other hand takes hold of your face, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into his palm a bit but you keep your pace, letting him hit the back of your throat, feeling him twitch between your lips. You look up at him and all you can see is the veins on his neck, his jaw clenched tight. His fingers slip through your hair, over your scalp and you hum, but just quietly.

The soft touch encourages you to speed up just a bit. His whole body trembles as you take the base of his cock in your hand and jerk him in unison with your mouth. It overstimulates him immediately and he yells out, gives your hand another tight, tight squeeze.

“Oh-oh, my god, [y/n],” he moans, and you squeeze your thighs tighter.

He doesn’t ever want this to end. And so he fights the fire burning in his belly with everything he’s got, but he knows it’s useless. You’re too good. You’re so good.

He lifts his head and looks down at you, his face red all over and his eyes locked on yours. He holds your hand against his chest, caresses your face softly and lets out these soft, desperate whimpers. His body tenses up, leans towards you a bit and his jaw hangs wide open with very little sound coming out. He gives you this look, maybe a little warning, and then he’s gripping onto your hair and hunched over your body, filling up your mouth and whining into the air.

You put your hands on his waist and keep him in your mouth until he rides it out, falls back onto the couch.

You tower over him, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and put your hands on his shoulders, “Good?”

“Yes. Wow,” he pants. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” you smile.

He huffs and he puffs, yet he can’t seem to catch his breath. “You know…” he breathes out. “That entire time…I actually forgot I was thirty.”

You burst into laughter and put your forehead to his, your giggles mirroring one another’s.

Spencer fixes his pants and huffs, “Will you…will you lay with me for a second?”

Your heart melts a little. You climb onto the couch, taking a seat beside him and swinging your legs over his lap.

And you sit like that. For hours. Talking until it’s no longer Spencer’s birthday and he’s just…thirty. You try your best to convince him to stay the night. He declines. And he declines and he declines.

Then he falls asleep in your arms.

In the morning, he wakes up alone and for a one whole minute, he forgets where he is. Then he remembers you and he goes looking for you and finds you in the kitchen.

“Oh,” you smile, “Hi, you. Breakfast?” you hold out the box of cereal that you’re eating out of.

He glances at the box and then back at you and he stares.

“What?” you ask.

“I…” he trails off. “I thought…I thought I dreamt you. For a moment, I thought it all was a dream.”

You tilt your head at him, “I’m very real.”

He chuckles, scratches the back of his head, “And…and the…the…”

“Blowjob?” you laugh. “Yeah, that was real, too.”

“The donuts?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “All of it.”

He continues to stare at you, this soft smile on his face and you hold out the cereal again. Shake it around.

“I’m okay,” he chuckles, stepping over to you. “I should…I should probably get going.”

“Oh, but why?” you whine.

“Because I…need a shower,” he laughs. “And to brush my teeth and lay in bed until I get called in again.”

“Yeah, I should probably start preparing for my lectures this week, too.”

You stare into his pretty, pretty eyes and you set the cereal down, hold his face, “You’re not gonna ghost me are you?”

He furrows his eyebrows, “Ghost you? What does that mean?”

“Oh, I forgot you’re old,” you laugh.

“Stooop,” he whines. “Stooop.”

“Ghost me. You’re not gonna go radio silent? You’re not…not gonna act like this never happened? Like I don’t exist?”

And Spencer instantly thinks: I don’t think I’m ever going to leave you alone. But instead of vocalizing it, he strokes your waist and he says, “No. Of course not.”

And he really meant that.

The next time he got called out on a case, he let you know that he’d be gone for a while but he’d be back. And he’d really, really like to see you when he’s home. He tries his best not to text while working, but when he’s laying in a hotel bed, unable to stop thinking about you and what you’re doing, he opts for a phone call.

“Hey, Sherlock,” you greet him. “Crack the case yet?”

He chuckles, “No. Almost. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were home in a few days.”

“And then you’ll come see me?”

“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll come see you.”

“Good.”

“What about you? How’s your journey to being a selfless doctor going?”

“Terrible. I missed like half of my lecture this morning because I blew a tire on the way.”

“Oh, no, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just hit a pot hole and swerve a little bit but it’s not my first time.”

“Oh?” he nods. “That’s…not good,” he laughs.

“I survived. I’m tough.”

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” you can hear the little grin in his voice.

You bite down on your lip, “Okay, tell me what’s going on there. Serial killer? Kidnapping?”

“Confidential.”

“Booooo!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “Um, a couple days ago a body washed up on the beach and…”

You talked until you both were nearly asleep. In the morning, Spencer rolls out of bed and the lack of sleep hits him like a truck, but he thinks about you and your sleepy, soft voice and he smiles. He smiles out the door and down the hall and Morgan strides up beside him.

“Morning, kid,” he says.

“Morning!” Spencer replies and Derek eyes him because it was just sooo cheerful.

Derek bites his tongue for a moment, but is incapable of doing it for any longer so he asks, “Who were you on the phone with last night?”

Spencer trips over his feet at the question and stutters, “O-oh, me? Me? I wasn’t talking to anyone.”

“Mmhmmm,” Derek hums.

“No. N-nope, just the voices in my head.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Spencer comes back home on a Thursday and immediately hops on foot, on a train, to get to your apartment. You open the door for him and pull him inside, taking him in a big hug.

“Hi, you,” you whisper in his ear.

“Hi,” he snuggles into you.

“I made dinner. Pasta. It’s the only thing I know how to make, but there’s plenty. You hungry?”

“Yes,” he nods, pulls out of the hug. “Thank you.”

He goes to walk into the kitchen, but you grab his hand, “Hey, wait,” and you throw yourself into his arms and take him in a long kiss. He grips onto your shirt and goes weak in the knees, smushing his face into yours.

You step back, “Okay, now we can eat.”

He mumbles something incoherent and walks into the wall and you laugh, putting your hands on his shoulders to guide him into the kitchen.

The entire time that you two are hanging out on the couch, his arm around your shoulders, you can feel him looking at you. The one time that you catch his eyes, you lean in for a kiss and he is much more forward when it comes to kissing you back. He pushes his body into yours and a soft moan empties from your lips. It gives him enough courage to drop to his knees in front of you.

“Whoa,” you exclaim. “What are you doing?”

“I…well, I…I wanted to do this for you and I’m ready, I researched it.”

“You…researched how to eat me out?”

“I just want to return the favor.”

“But it’s not my birthday?”

“Is that a…requirement, or?”

“No,” you laugh, cover your face, “Okay. Okay, show me what you learned.”

And so Spencer disappears under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your thighs and grabbing onto the thin straps of your underwear. He pulls them off your legs and you chuckle as they fly off. His face flushes bright red and he gives you a soft smile, taking a deep breath before he leans in and kisses your thighs. You hum under your breath, spread your legs for him out of instinct.

He’s very timid at first. Peppering gentle kisses on your hips, teasing his tongue on your clit. Then your back arches, his face falls into you and all the notes and research just fall right out of his mind. He wraps his arms around your hips and moves his tongue in this rhythmic up and down motion that he can tell you love so he keeps at it. And at it and at it, stepping off with a sharp suck that makes you yelp.

You rest your head on the couch, licking your lips because they’re so dry from your gasping, your constant moaning. You grip onto his hair and moan his name, only twice because you’re losing your breath. His fingertips press into your skin, spread your pussy open so he can bury his face in you.

Your body starts to twitch and tremble, your toes curling into themselves so tightly that it cuts off circulation. Your voice is high and whiny, growing louder by the second. Spencer feels your thighs tighten around his face and he knows now is not the time to let up. He swirls his tongue over your clit and you tighten your grip on his hair, straining your throat from moaning so loudly. You try to say his name, one last time, but then your back is arching off the couch and your orgasm washes over your entire body. From the tip of your head to the tip of your toes.

Spencer wipes his mouth off with your inner thigh and stands up looking so, very proud.

“Fuck,” you laugh. “What did you read?”

He cackles and gives you a wet kiss on the cheek and then the lips. Immediately after, you push him down and suck him off and as he holds you afterwards, he breathes off, “Remind me to return the favor again.”

“Oh,” you giggle. “Believe me, I will.”

The next few days, you two are inseperable. He spends two consecutive nights at your place, bitching and complaining and listening to each rant for hours at a time. He helps your study for your next exam. It’s not until he gets called out again that real life creeps in. It’s the first time goodbye is really hard.

You joke over the next month that he should just move in. This constant pattern of fly out, fly in, visit and repeat is a lot of run around.

“You’d get sick of me,” he replies.

And you hold him real tight and shake your head, “Never.”

When he’s on his next trip and calls in the middle of your lecture, you only step out and answer because a feeling in your gut tells you something is very wrong. Spencer never calls in the middle of the day. He’d never want to inconvenience you. But, today, it has to be you.

“Hello?” you answer.

“[y/n]? Hey…” he huffs.

He sounds distraught, like his chest is tight as he speaks and you take a seat on the floor, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I think I’m having a panic attack. I think…I think I’m dying.”

“What? What happened? Honey…”

“Just tell me something to calm me down, anything. Anything. Please.”

“Um, um, um, uh,” you sutter. “I think we should have sex.” As you say it, someone walks by giving you a dirty look and you shake it off, wait for Spencer’s response.

His breath has slowed, but just a little, “Oh…that works.”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “You know, I’ve just been thinking about it. A lot, aaand yeah, when you get back, I-I think we should do that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“When I see you,” he says. “I know you’re busy and I should get back.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Glad I could help,” you laugh. “Call me back tonight, okay?”

“I will. I miss you.”

You smile to yourself, “I miss you, too.”

When you hang up, you’re happy and giddy, grinning to yourself like a fool. Then you look up to find the same person from before, whispering with their friend as they watch you.

You roll your eyes and shout, “What the fuck are you looking at?” and you walk back into the lecture hall.

The day Spencer tells you they’re flying back, you start preparing. Shaving, showering, spraying on some nice perfume. You walk around your apartment in a silky, short nightgown, lighting candles in the hall and all over your bedroom. When you’re content with the atmosphere, the only thing left to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

You check your phone several times and when there is still nothing hours later, you think it’s time to blow out the candles, lay in bed and cry. For a moment, you feel so stupid and confused and angry that you almost throw a lamp at the wall. Then there’s a knock on the door.

Spencer stands there, immediately saying, “Don’t be mad.”

“Too late, I’m mad,” you snip, turning away from him.

He lets himself in and grabs your hand, stutters when he finally notices your nightgown, the candles, “Oh. Wow. You did all this?”

“Spencer!” you whine, crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…I bought you a donut,” he holds the bag up to you. “Your favorite. I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad. Not tonight. Any other night but tonight, please?”

Maybe if he wasn’t so good at the kicked puppy eyes, you could’ve held out a little longer. But you’re happy he’s here and your horny and this is happening no matter what time it is. You snatch the bag from his hand and just as quickly as you drop it, you pull his body into your, gripping his waist, your mouth open on his.

He trips over your feet as you pull him down the hall and into your bedroom, the two of you tangled up so tight that you collapse on the bed in one big sweep. He falls on top of you, between your legs, kissing you hungrily.

“Wait,” he huffs, breaking the kiss. “Wait.”

You stare up at him, his face only visible due to the candles, “What is it? Did you…already?”

“What? What? No,” he laughs. “I just…uh…um…I’m not an expert at this. I…I don’t…I’m not experienced in this area and I will do everything I can to make it good for you. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Aw,” you whisper, caressing his face. “Take your clothes off.”

“Huh?”

“Spencer. I’ve been thinking about having sex with you since I first saw your picture on bumble. Now it’s happening and you were late so we gotta catch up.”

You pull him back in for a kiss and reach between your bodies, undoing his pants so you can grab his cock. He gasps and moans into your mouth.

“Don’t overthink it,” you mumble, staring in his eyes, “Just do whatever you want to me.”

He moves his hips forward, stroking himself with your palm and whimpering against your cheek. He starts to kiss your neck, gripping onto your waist, bunching up your nightgown in his hands. You push his shirt up his waist and he quickly pulls it over his head, catching you in a kiss as soon as he can.

“Can I take this off?” he pants, pinching the hem of your clothes. And you sit up, allowing him to pull it right over your head.

His eyes rake down your body, lingering on your breasts, “Can I…?”

“Oh, god, yes, please,” you nod and lay back on the bed, holding your hands above your head.

Spencer chuckles and leans down, taking your nipple into his mouth ever so gently, swirling his tongue around the hard bud. You purr, grab a fistful of his hair, and lick your lips. He presses his body weight onto you, holding your other breast in his hand and sucking on your skin.

“F-fuck,” you moan. “Spencer…”

And he moves to the other side of your chest, now more confident, now unstoppable, flicking his tongue on you so fast that it makes your body twitch. He kisses down your tummy, looks up at you as he slides your panties off, kisses on your thighs. He knows how to do this. He’s good at this, per your review and when he puts his mouth on you, the most broken, whiny little noise falls from your lips.

He hums between your thighs, holding your hips tight and flush against his face. With your moans rattling around his skull, he loses all inhibition. He works his tongue on you slow, methodical, in all the right places. You give his hair a soft tug and he grunts, his hand trailing up your waist. You brace your hands on his biceps, squeezing them between your fingers, sighing out his name.

You hook your legs over his shoulders, tightening your thighs around his face, moving your hips up and down to feel his tongue gliding. Wet and sticky like he’s drowning inside of you.

“Oh, god,” you moan. “Yes, Spencer, yes, yes.”

He moans under his breath, quickening his tongue, clamping his hands down on your thighs. You pull at his hair as your back arches off the bed and your legs tremble around his head. He gives your clit a sharp suck and you cry out, gripping onto his hair at the scalp. And when your voice gets so high and whiny that it could break glass, he knows you’re close and he spreads your pussy open, works his tongue on your clit and doesn’t stop.

Your body tenses up and you hold him tight, tight, tight, crying out his name, your breath catching in your throat. And when you come, you collapse with a long and drawn out groan, shoving your fingers in your mouth to catch your breath.

You instantly reach over to the nightstand and grab the condom that’s been waiting all night to be used. Spencer brings his face back to yours and you kiss him instantly, grinning when you feel him pushing his pants down his legs. He lets you roll the condom onto his hard, leaky cock and asks, “Do-do you wanna be on top?”

“No,” you shake your head, wrap your arms tight around his waist. “Stay on top of me,” you say against his lips, “I like it.”

“Okay,” he nods into a kiss with you and settles between your legs. You help him align, you kiss his neck and hold him close as he pushes his cock into you. The both of you gasp, your noses smushed together. “God…” Spencer moans. “You okay?”

You nod, “Mhm. Are you?”

“Mm…” he hums. “Trying not to explode.”

You two chuckle, catching each other in yet another hungry kiss as Spencer starts to move in and out of you slowly. His breathing in low and jagged, hot against your face. He’s so gentle with you, pushing into you with little pressure and caressing your face.

“H-harder…” you pant. “You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”

So he plunges into you a bit harder, a bit deeper and you gasp, “Harder.”

He obeys and angles himself above you, watching your face as he pushes into you with the right amount of force. You moan, your eyes rolling back and your head along with it, “Oh, fuck, yes. Like that.”

“Yeah?” he repeats the movement, his moan blending in with yours.

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes. Yes. Just,” you reach down and start rubbing your clit. “Fuck, keep going.”

And he does. He focuses on keeping his rhythm, slow, but intense, the bed squeaking everytime he moves his hips into yours. You gasp against his lips, wrap your arm around his waist, your hooded eyes focused on his. He runs his hand over your hair, whimpering to you, melting into you, and taking short breaks to keep himself from finishing too soon.

Your fingers get cramped and soaked from the incessant rubbing on your clit but it’s like you can’t stop. Spencer leans in to kiss your neck, his hand absentmindedly running up your ribs and gripping your breast. You hold onto his hair and groan into his ear, his low and breathy moans vibrating against your skin.

“F-fuck!” you cry out as he slams into you. “I’m gonna come, don’t stop. Fuck, please don’t stop.”

But he does, only for a moment because the dirty combination of your voice and your hand tugging his hair and your pussy tightening around him, he’s dangerously close to bringing this entire thing to a premature end. So, he pauses. He takes a breath and he pounds into you. Even slower, over and over and over, watching your face closely, watching you fall apart.

“Oh,” you whine, your fingers quickening on your clit. “God, Spencer,” you moan and then body trembles, tensing up underneath him as you come so hard that you lose your voice. He grunts, falling into a sloppy kiss with you and following right behind you, his body suddenly going weak as he comes, his entire weight placed upon you.

Spencer collapses beside you and instantly pulls you into his chest, squeezing you in his arms and peppering your forehead with kisses. “How was that?” he asks, looking down at you. “Was that good for you?”

You touch your fingertip to his chin and smile, nodding, “Oh, yes.”

“Good,” he hugs you. “Good, good, good. For me, too.”

You smile into a long kiss with him and giggle against his lips. Lying there, your breathing falls in sync and you trace the center of his tummy, sink into the bliss.

“They, uh…” Spencer starts. “They remembered my birthday today. That’s why I was late, they threw me a party.”

You glance up at him, but only for a moment and then you put your head back on his chest. “Oh.”

“It was nice,” he shrugs. “It was fun, but the whole time, I just…thought about you. I thought about how angry I was that they’d forgotten at all and how…how you just made everything so much better,” and he tilts your head up to say this next part directly to you, “You always make everything so much better.”

And as you stare into his eyes, the corners of your mouth turned up ever so sightly, your eyes start to water and your lip starts to quiver.

“Oh,” he softens. “Oh, no. Nooo. Are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head. Then you put your face in your hands and nod, suddenly sobbing.

“Oh, no, no, [y/n], no, I’m sorry. Did I say something?”

You shake your head.

“What is it? What-what just happened?”

“I-I-I-“ you stutter. Lifting your head from your hands, you cry, “I-I just wish I could tell my friends about you.”

He frowns and takes you into a tight hug, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head, “I’m so sorry,” he whispers to you. “Oh, [y/n], I’m so sorry.”

And because he’s never really seen you cry before, his only thought is to ask, “Do you-do you want me to go down on you again?”

You look up at him, your lip poked out in a dramatic pout and you nod.

“Okay,” he says, climbing on top of you and wiping the tears from your face. “I can do that for you.”

It works. It leads to more sex. The two of you don’t go to bed until the sun has nearly risen and don’t get up until well in the afternoon. Spencer thinks you’re using his dick as a distraction and you fear there’s no respectful way to say: I just can’t get enough. He gives you a few days and nights worth of it and still, it’s not enough.

He’s actively trying to get inside of you when he gets called into work. He’s on top of you, between your legs, pushing his tongue into your mouth when his phone goes off. He pulls away to check it and you whine, “Nooo, noooo, don’t goooo.”

“I have to. People are dying,” and as he speaks, you kiss his neck, touch your tongue to his jaw and he moans, “Oh, god,” before he can stop himself. “[y/n]….”

“Just-stay. Stay. They can save one day without you, can’t they?”

“Actually, I don’t think they can.”

“Ugh. You and your big, useful brain. I’m sick of it.”

“I’ll be back,” he gives you a kiss.

“Nooo, stay,” you hold him tight so he can’t move and he busts out laughing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry.”

So he showers and gets dressed and you sit on the bed pouting the entire time. He comes out of the bathroom and frowns, matching your pissy and childish expression.

“I will be back,” he tells you as he takes a seat on the bed. “I always come back.”

“I know, I know, I’m just being dramatic. Let me be dramatic.”

“Okay,” he chuckles and gives you a kiss. Nuzzling his nose against yours, he whispers, “You should call your friends.”

You instantly recoil and he puts his hands on your shoulders, “Okay, okay, I know. I know. But I think it’s time. You need them. They need you. You’re an easy girl to miss.”

You roll your eyes and he sighs, kisses your forehead and squeezes you in a hug. “Call them,” he says and then he leaves.

You sit there for a moment, ponder on his words. Ponder on the entirety of the past few days, past few months. You pick up your phone. You stare at it in your palm. You dial your friend’s number and though you don’t expect an answer, she picks up with a, “Hello?”

You take a deep breath, “Hey…”

When Spencer arrives at work, he finds himself heading up the elevator with Morgan who is so completely and totally normal that Spencer thinks he can smell the sex on him. He watches Derek from the corner of his eyes, fidgeting with the strap of his satchel and shuffling on his feet.

Suddenly, Derek smashes the emergency button on the elevator and brings it to a halt. Spencer falls back and grabs onto the wall.

“Why-why-why did you do that?” Spencer stutters, his pulse starting to rise. “Why did you do that? You remember what happened the last time you messed around with the elevator? Turn it back on.”

“Not until,” Derek says, turning to him. “You tell me whatever it is that you’re dying to tell me.”

“I’m…I’m not dying to tell you anything. I’m just scared of dying.”

“Pretty boy. I step in the elevator, you start sweating. I act like I don’t notice, you’re giving me the side eye up four floors. What’s up?”

Spencer closes his eyes and shakes his head. Then he stands up straight. Then he falls back again.

“Kid?”

“I’m…” Spencer starts. But he can’t finish. “I’m…” He thinks he doesn’t know what to say. Key word: thinks. But there’s only one sentence swirling around his brain and he has to say it, but he doesn’t want to say it and so he bites his tongue. He shakes his head and then looks up at Derek, “I’m having sex!”

And he says it with such a whiny voice that Derek can’t help but laugh. Visibily.

“I knew it,” Derek says. “You’re shaking in your converse to tell me that?”

“What? What do you mean you knew it?” The response sobers Spencer up a bit, his anxiety weakens just enough so he can figure out why Derek is laughing.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you walkin’ on in here everyday with a lil’ extra pep in ya step,” Derek chuckles. “You’re not that sneaky, kid. I knew there had to be someone.”

Spencer sighs, lets his shoulders relax. “It’s-it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just…sex…lots of sex. Lots of really, really good sex. I think. I think it’s good. It…feels good, seems good. I don’t have much to compare it to but, um…yeah…”

“My man,” Derek laughs and Spencer breaks a smile. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer smiles wider, “[y/n]. She’s gorgeous and smells good and makes me laugh and I…don’t feel weird around her she makes me feel so unbelievably not weird and y-yeah, she’s a little bit younger but I hardly ever notice.”

Derek puts the elevator back in motion, “How young are we talkin’ here?”

“Um, she’s twenty-two.”

Derek replies with nothing more than a whistle and Spencer rolls his eyes, “Stop.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You said plenty.”

The elevator dings and they step off, Derek swinging his arm over Spencer’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, pretty boy, we’ll get you back to your lady soon.”

And Spencer laughs it off but in his head, he’s thinking: yes, please.

It’s the first week out of town that Derek is suspicious every time Spencer checks his phone. When the case starts to get heavier and harder, Spencer missing a few of his nightly phone calls, you worry. You can’t help it. He texts you when he lands and it’s stupid how wide you smile.

Library? he texts.

Y: Literally on my way.

You approach each other at the front doors, and from far away, you can see the bags under his eyes and the hunch in his shoulders.

“Hey, you,” you cradle his face in your palm. “Tough week?”

He leans into your touch, nodding and closing his eyes to take a moment and reset. When he opens them to find your face, illuminated by the light, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. You giggle against his lips and your leg lifts behind you, almost uncontrollably.

You smile at each other and Spencer asks, “Do you like coffee?”

You cackle, “I love coffee.”

He holds the door open for you, asking, “Hey, what do you think about meeting some friends of mine?”

You smile, turn to him, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

[haunted-xander]

The moment Hajime walked into the restaurant, chaos broke out. The first thing Chiaki could register was Kazuichi's shrill scream of joy that tappered off into anxious stuttering. His finger kept shaking as he pointed at Hajime, all while unsuccessfully trying to get a word out of his clattering mouth.

The other's in the room had been alerted by his scream, and all stared at Hajime and Chiaki standing at the top of the stairs. After a few seconds passed of Kazuichi stuttering, Fuyuhiko took a step forward and asked the question on everyone's minds, "...Hey, it's Hinata, right? Not Kamukura? You've got the hair but your postures all tense and shit. Not Kamukura-like at all. I'm right, aren't I?"

Hajime let out a relieved sigh and smiled warmly. "Yeah... it's me. I'm... Hajime Hinata. Nice to meet you all, for real this time." Right as he finished talking, Akane let out a happy shout and ran at him, grabbing him in a headlock and ruffled his hair. "Aha! I knew it! There's no way Hinata wouldn't come back, I kept tellin' them but they wouldn't stop whining! Souda cried like a baby the whole damn time, hahaha!"

"H-hey! I didn't cry like a baby! And I had every right to be worried, there was no way for us to know if he'd still be Hinata when he woke up!"

"Yeah yeah, sure. Whatever ya say lil' guy!"

"I'm not little! I'm only 4cm shorter than you!"

"What are you talking about? I was talkin' about how weak an' skinny you are, ya got no muscle!"

"Just because I'm not an athlete like you or Nidai doesn't mean I have no muscle! I lug around metal parts all day, you got any idea how heavy those things are!?"

Chiaki smiled as she tuned out Kazuichi and Akane's bickering, happy they still managed to be so casual with each other despite everything. She turned to Sonia, who had been silently watching with a gentle smile from further back. They made eye contact and Sonia stepped closer. "I am glad to finally see you awake, Hinata-san. We have all been rather worried for you, since you took such a long time to awaken. Nanami-san in particular has been slaving over your pod restlessly as she awaited your return."

"I'm glad to be back. I... kinda figured Nanami had been watching over me a lot. She was already there when I woke up, and the relief on her face was so deep it was clear she'd been worried sick, it'd make sense for her to have kept a close eye." As he explained his analysis, Hajime's voice gained a more factual tone, like he was reading off a textbook. "...Uh, well... That's why I assumed, I mean. ...Sorry, I'm... kind of a mess right now."

"Oh, yes of course! None of us were in our best states upon waking up, it is only natural you would be disoriented and vulnerable as well. ...I imagine it to be more difficult for you due to how much has changed for you. If there is any way I can assist, please do not hesitate to ask! We are all friends, so I, as well as the rest of us, will be there to support you in whichever way you need." Sonia's voice was gentle but firm, her words genuine.

Hearing the care and kindess behind her words, Hajime smiled. "...Yeah, thanks. I'll be sure to keep it in mind. It's a lot to deal with." The others all quieted down and listened to his words carefully. "...My head feels like it's all over the place. Of course, there's everything that comes from having all those talents crammed into my brain, but also... a whole lot of memories flooding in, both new and old." His voice gradually got quieter as it began to waver. "When I underwent the procedures for the Hope Cultivation Plan, the first thing they did was remove all my memories of 'Hajime Hinata'. If I had to guess a reason, it was to prevent me from changing my mind and trying to escape, or sell them out after the procedures were done. ...I was empty. And only got emptier as they removed more and more of what made me... 'me'. My hobbies, my preferences, my emotions, my... personality. They took it all."

He let out a humorless laugh. "The only thing they couldn't remove was my curiousity. Even before I became 'Kamukura', I was the kinda guy who hated being bored, hated when things were the same as always, basic, normal, simple. Never really liked it. I just didn't go as far for entertainment as I did as 'Kamukura'."

"Wait wait wait, so you mean that whole 'thrill seeker' stuff was ALWAYS there!? Just, like, hidden...? W-what kinda stuff did you get up to!?"

"Shut the fuck up, Souda! He's not done yet."

"Sorry, sorry!"

Ignoring the sudden outburst, Hajime continued, "...I keep talking as if Kamukura is some old thing of the past, but that's not really the case. He's still... I'M still Kamukura. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe." He put his hands to his head and rubbed his temple. "Ugh. Sorry. It's hard to explain. I'm Hajime Hinata, but I'm... also Izuru Kamukura. Kinda. The part of me that was 'Kamukura' isn't gone or amything, just. Reticent? Weak? ...Not as present as the part that's 'Hinata'. But still there, sorta?"

Kazuichi and Akane both scratched their heads, not really understanding what he's talking about. "So, like, you've got two people in your brain now...? Is that what you mean...? Like a split personality deal or something?" The mechanic hesistantly posed his hypothesis as a question. "...No, not a split personality. 'Kamukura' isn't a seperate entity or consciousness from me. He's just... Ugh. I can't explain it. I'm tired. Let me eat something and maybe my brain will work enough. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully."

"Oh, of course! You just woke up, you must be starving! C'mon Hinata, time to eat 'til ya burst!" Akane dragged him further into the restaurant, forced him to sit in one of the chairs and ran off to the kitchen to presumably grab whatever food she could find and throw it on the table in front of him.

"...I'm happy to see you finally up, Hinata-kun." Chiaki hadn't noticed Makoto in the room until he spoke up. It seemed the others had completely forgotten about him -as well as Kyoko and Byakuya who were sitting besides him- too. "Ah, Naegi, I didn't notice you. ...Thanks?" Hajime was awkward as he tried to talk to Makoto, not really knowing what to say.

"Ah, that reminds me, we actually have some important stuff to talk with everyone about. Perfect timing for you to wake up just in time!" Makoto looked nervous but tried to keep his spirits up. "Let's wait until we've all finished eating first, then we'll talk."

"Sure, sounds good. Hope this important stuff doesn't require me to use my brain though because I don't think I'm in the state for that just yet."

"Haha, don't worry! It's nothing like that, you don't need to do a lot of deep thinking or anything. You just... need to make a decision, is all." At his explaination, everyone currently in the room went tense. "...A decision? What... kind of decision? Is something going on? ...Is it the Future Foundation? Did they... catch on?" Chiaki had distantly been worried about the rest of the Future Foundation getting involved in all this, but had pushed it aside for more pressing matters.

At her words, Makoto softened up a bit. "No no, it's not the Future Foundation... or well, it kinda is, but not in a way that you guys should be worried about or anything! They're not coming to this island or anything like that, don't worry! It's just... um... I-I'll explain when we talk it over properly, okay?" He stammered nervously, trying to dispell any doubts they had.

"...Okay, well, I'm hungry. I'm gonna eat." And with that, everyone started up easy conversations as they ate.

Makoto explained to them that he, Kyoko and Byakuya would soon have to return to Future Foundation headquarters to undergo a questioning from the leader. As expected, their plan had eventually leaked to the rest of the organisation and they now had to deal with the consequences.

"...But, before we leave, there's something we need you to decide. It's about those who didn't survive the Killing School Trip... those who are still sleeping in the pod room. ...What will you do about them?" Makoto's voice was unsettlingly steady as he asked the dreaded question.

"'What will we do'? We're gonna wake them all up, of course! They're all still alive, right? Then all we gotta do is make 'em wake up like we did!" Akane's voice was loud and boisterous as she raised her fists and slammed them together. "Or what, you don't think we can do it!? You were the one's who said there was a chance, right!? There's no way in hell I'm just gonna give up without even tryin'!" Her tone made it clear she was offended at the mere thought of them giving up on their sleeping friends.

"And how, exactly, do you plan to achieve that?" Byakuya's arrogant voice cut her off.

"Huh? Well, obviously we just gotta..."

"Hmph. As I thought. You have no plan whatsoever, do you? How foolish. You don't exactly have unlimited resources, you know. You can't afford to just let them stay on life support forever. At some point, you'll have to give up, regardless of how much you wish to see them again. Do you understand? Even if you try to wake them up, there's no guarantee anyone will, let alone ALL of them." His words were cutting and uncomfortable, but was nothing but facts they would have to face eventually.

"...I can't speak for everyone here, but... I think it's worth the risk. If there's a chance, even a small one, of seeing our friends again... Then we'll take it. Even if no one wakes up... or only some of them make it... then that's okay. I'll feel better knowing I tried. The others probably feel the same too." Chiaki had already thought about all the possibilities ten times over, and was prepared for whatever laid ahead. She'd be upset if it all ended up being for nothing of course, but she'd rather try than giving up before even starting.

At the very least, she's not alone now.

"Y-yeah! There's no way we'd just give up like that! What kinda friends would we be if we just let them die like that!?"

"I agree with Nanami-san and Souda-san! To give up on our dear friends without even trying would be an insult to their sacrifices! It is because of them that we are all able to move one, to live as we are, here and now! I would never slight their lives by giving in to helplessness and despair! Tanaka-san would never forgive me for treating everyones existences so crudely!"

"I want to see Peko again... The entire reason I was able to live on and not give in to despair was because of her... If there's a chance I could get her back, you bet your ass I'm gonna take it! Like hell I'm gonna let Peko stay dead without doing anything!"

"...I won't lose anyone else. As long as there's a chance of getting my friends back, then that's all I need. I won't stop until everyone is awake. We made this future together, so I'll make sure we all get to live it. No matter what, I will get everyone back. You have my word."

Everyone's resolve was solid, with no room to budge. Their friends, classmates, companions. They will get them back, no matter what. "...Heh, looks like we didn't need to worry after all. I had a feeling you wouldn't give up so easily. You didn't get her by taking the easy route, now did you?" Kyoko smiled at their response, clearly pleased with the outcome. "We'll leave the comatosed patients in your care, then. Do make sure to keep an eye on their health when they wake up, though. As you surely already know, many of them weren't exactly... kind to their own bodies during their time as Ultimate Despair."

"'When'? You say that as if them waking up is a foregone conclusion." Ever the mood-killer, Byakuya huffed in annoyance and picked at Kyoko's word choice. "Yes, 'when'. I believe in Hinata-kun and everyone's ability to awaken their comatosed friends. They've already made a miracle happen, what's another one? You could stand to be a bit more optimistic, Togami-kun."

"Hmph. I think you've spent a bit too much time with Naegi. He's rubbing off on you."

"Heh, maybe so. But is that such a bad thing?"

"Are you actually asking for my opinion, or do you just want to voice your own thoughts out loud?"

"Um, guys? You do remember I'm here too, right? I can hear you, you know..." Makoto tried to butt in on their bickering, but was promptly ignored in favour of Kyoko and Byakuya continuing to take jabs at each other. Chiaki couldn't help but giggle at the sight. Seeing them so casual and friendly was new to her, and was incredibly warming to see.

Unfortunately, she had a pressing question in mind. "...Sorry to ruin the fun mood, but... when are you guys leaving? You need to get to HQ as soon as possible, right? So shouldn't you prepare for departure soon?" At the reminded of their situation, Makoto, Kyoko and Byakuya swiftly straightened back up. "Ah, yeah about that... We're leaving tomorrow morning."

"TOMORROW MORNING!? That's way too soon! Why didn't you tell us earlier!? I'm not mentally prepared!"

"Oh my god Souda SHUT THE FUCK UP! They probably just got the damn order today and was told to rush their asses back to base ASAP. It's a damn questioning, you think the boss cares about us get prepared!?"

"But still, it is rather soon... Are you sure you are all ready to depart?"

"Yeah, we're sure. We were already planning on leaving sometime soon, so it wasn't a lot we needed to get ready left..." Lightly scratching his cheek, Makoto answered sheepishly and let out an awkward laugh.

Looks like tomorrow would be a busy day.

[flowerslut]

Popped on to wish you a speedy and healthy recovery from your procedures 🖤

Also, thank you for updating Roots, and I hope it’s because you wanted to and not because you felt you had to. Please put yourself first right now 🖤

But since you updated…I wanted to say on first read this is my instinctive raw gut reaction without analysis…I was loving you having Jasper come back to himself so much…when he first recognises Edward, then when he sees Emmett - the burst of rage and regret and guilt he has! Remembering Alice, running to check on her… until a certain someone snapped him back into his automatic response and the thought he had….makes me feel sick. But I know he wouldn’t do that to Alice, and you mentioned something in your tags about infidelity not being a tag..

(I also hope Alice didn’t see that particular vision with her fragile state right now, would not be helpful for her)

I’m really hoping you let him come back to himself soon and see Alice even though it’ll rip our poor troubled Jasper’s heart out at seeing her like that/knowing what was done to her 💔

My heart is breaking for Rosalie!

And being the Peter/(Charlotte RIP) stan I am, I kind of lowkey love the fact he was stinking of venom and rot because that screams to me that he carried and held Alice all the way back home and we love that for his character 🖤

tldr; take care of yourself and Roots is better than the entire plot of The Twilight Saga altogether, sending positive vibes and all the Jalice love 🖤

Clara x

(PS, I may be back with a more in depth analysis once I’ve reread this chapter after some sleep after a 12 hour working day)

thank you so much!!!! I'm feeling better every day and I'm in good spirits so that's a huge plus!! and omfg lmfaooo don't worry!! every single time I've worked hard to squeeze in a roots update is because I'm fucking feral about this story and I LOVE thinking about it and posting it and talking about it etc etc!! 🥰 for as obsessed with roots as everyone says they are, just know that I'm over here also feeling the same stuff!!! sure there's a sense of obligation there since I like posting regular updates but it's 10000% percent because I love! to write!!! and I love! the fics!! I write!!!!

gonna reply to the rest under a cut bc of spoilers! ♡

don't worry, if jasper's disorientation/current mental state is making you feel sick or nervous or anxious then that means my job here is done 💀 this poor man is still trying to mesh the good (his current life) with the bad (his past life) in his brain and it's causing a full fracture to happen. we (jalice stans) often talk a lot about jasper's trauma because it's a really interesting subject to dive into, but being able to write and explore a traumatized character going through psychosis has always been something I like to explore in fanfic and with characters I like (who are all very traumatized individuals. hm. wonder what that says about me 💀)

anyways you'll have a better idea of what alice is and isn't seeing two chapters from now! but don't worry, I will give you one assurance and say that this past chapter (48) is as disoriented as jasper gets in the fic. he starts clearing up more little by little as the story progresses. unfortunately, I can't say the same about alice

and poor rosalie oh my godddd :( I think that whumping emmett (or renesmee, if we're being real here) is probably the best way to get rosalie to break down. and rosalie is interesting because she's so quick to anger. but when there's no immediate target for that anger, and when the person she loves more than anything is in such a state, you can only imagine what she's going through right now. (which is why edward's current job is keeping rosalie from trying to fight maria because she badly needs something to tear into) you definitely get a little more peter & alice content in the next alice chapter, but not a wild amount. peter's main job right now is 'keep alice alive' and if that means having to begrudgingly follow maria's orders...well, he'll do it, but he won't like it...

thank you again for always being so sweet!! I'm so happy you and other people love this story so much! it feels so good to have a fic that I was insane about for a year straight finally infect my readers in the same way that it did me 💀 I can't wait for you guys to have the full thing by the end of the year!!!!!!! thanks again! ♡

[imogenleewriter]

I would have waited for it to be over to rr the whole thing, write a rant simultaneously and then send but lmfao the ne chapter needs to be ranted about.

(I'm only 2 words in)

Not Louis being smarter than Harry lmao.

Yeah, Louis it's LITERALLY the only explanation my brothah stop lying

'symptoms' BAHAHAHAHA

Not Louis being SCIENCE and Harry being completely inexperienced on falling in LOVE LMFAO

Noooooo Louis knows what those feelings are cuz everytime he triggered then he also felt them himself 🥲🤏

✨Love ✨

Not harry's symptoms being his literal FEELINGS FFS

Nooooo Louis only has a theory. (I need Zayn to somehow find out about this debacle and repeat it at their wedding or to their children (whichever option Harry hates more and Louis is less wary of))

Yeah Louis you're definitely, DEFINITELY misinterpreting this YUP YEAH sounds about right

(side note:- idk how you even ever manage to put so much work into something you do for free and get so much stupid comments for but I will ALWAYS be SOOOO GRATEFUL 🥲 like these are the highlights of my shitty days I can't believe you do it for free TYSM TYSM THANK YOU SO MUCH 💗💗💗)

(also:- a massive, massive thank you to everyone who supports you and helps you because- just- just- LOOK how amazing these are I literally can't rn-)

Knowing for sure that Harry isn't sick, I do kind of understand why Louis is hesitant to assume Harry's just in love with him because imagine your crush is casually dying in your arms out of a heart attack or something and you are just like "dw, bestie, your heart is fully functional, you just have feelings ❤️"

Ok so rn I am at the place where Louis is thinking about how Harry can totally have feelings for him but still not want a relationship and just- *sigh* don't you just HATE it when a character who is clearly miscommunicating still make sense in their monologue based on what their arc and personality is? *sigh again*

It's so funny that the tables have COMPLETELY turned this time around now HARRY is an oblivious idiot but LOUIS KNOWS!!!!

(I love how subtle this shift is btw because I'm not really sure why but in my brain Louis' characterization seemed like he knows his problems and would just rather be in blissful denial about it, yk? But Harry always seemed like a person who would look at others worst emotions when directed at himself but forgive the other person and not himself)

Looking at Louis's inner monologue rn is so funny because he is just like "omg I cracked a case"

Help-this is getting too long for an ask but basically my point is that if I have been procrastinating this ask for ages and I am still stressing over the semantics in it then you being stressed over the complete masterpiece literature you create that I and so many other people are lucky enough to find then IS MORE THAN REASONABLE!!!!

So THANK YOU

I'll just read the rest by myself sorry 😐 I'll add it to the inevitable rant I'll send in your dms whenever I can complete it lmao my life is a fucking mess with me somehow ending up with fucking BOB CUT rn in this economy but I'll send it I PROMISE

Hahaha I love all the comments I get I promiseeeeeeeeee!

Well 99% of them. The other ones I whine about in a discord group to the point they made me my own sticker

Thanks @enchantedlandcoffee

No, but it's honestly a sticker in a group with like 80 people and I love thinking about what the people who don't know me (because the majority of the time I only go in there to complain) think when they open the group stickers and see that one.

ANYWAYYYYYYY

I appreciated all your commentary a lot! I love it when people understand the characters and why they do things even if they don't agree with what they do.

Sorry about the bob-cut, not that I have anything against bob cuts but it sounds like it was not what you wanted.

A few years ago I went to a salon and asked for my hair to be just above my shoulders. The hairdresser was clearly in the middle of something, like maybe a break-up because she was like... close to tears and kept using the phone and stuff.

Anyway my hair but was at the nape of my neck, like if it was any shorter she would have had to use a razor. Without me even complaining- because I just can't do it- the manager gave me a discount. Like I literally didn't say a word about it and she gave me a discount. That's how bad it was.

As soon as I walked out I burst into tears and cried non-stop for at least two days. I literally put on social media if anyone sees me not to talk about the haircut or I'll start crying. It was sooooo bad.

Anyway lol, thank you!!

[saerins]

So, I read INFY in one go (i tried to wait for the last chapter and failed)

HOW THE HELL SAE WAS HEAD OVER HILLS FOR HER IN HIGH SCHOOL...... like how? It nearly doesn't make sense to me. AND SO DEEP AND HE WAS ACTULLY WAITING FOR HER before his forced marriage. And he also hated yn for it. Omg.

But character development is 🥺

You know what I am curious about? How did and what did yn do to bagi for his change of nature. It's cute though.

Waiting patiently for the final piece (whatever it is, I'll take and appreciate it)

❤️

haha he was stupidly head over heels before she started dating someone else. as for everything that happened back in high school, it was much easier because they were both physically there ! :)

the mirin in high school vs the mirin you see now is vastly different, sadly :’) she was the maternal big sister kinda person and she wasn’t afraid to talk bluntly to sae and call him out for shit (which isn’t new to him thanks to his family but it resonated different because back then he could tell she actually cared). but she was also very careless with her words, and so was he at giving out promises since he thought she was the one. that’s why, being the one who was cast aside he couldn’t help thinking about the promises no matter what his brain knows better - which was why he misplaced the blame onto yn just because it’s easier.

as for what yn did, it isn’t anything grandeous, because sae doesn’t need that kind of thing. being from a family like sae’s/yn’s, which really doesn’t feel like a family in the first place (except for their respective siblings), sae (and yn) both do crave a normal, sane family life even if they don’t realise it. sadly they don’t know anything about that, they only know what it is not. sae had always been punished for doing the wrong things (by his parents) - always getting the cold shoulder and guilt tripped into taking the right course of action, nobody looking after him when he’s sick, even no one trying to listen to him or trust him with anything. he was also punished by mirin for doing what he thought was right - he fought for them to still be together in spite of the distance and yet she still broke up with him. he continued to talk to her and care for her while she was abroad only to have her try and date someone else.

that’s partly why he finds yn kind of incredulous slash amazing. haha he doesn’t ask for a thing, and yet he comes home to her home-cooked food everyday even when he doesn’t eat them. he was harsh with her and yet she still puts in the effort. he gave her no reason to trust him and yet the moment he asks her to entrust the financials to him, she does it. (sae got worried for her at one point, wondering if she ever got scammed 😭) but that’s exactly why he started falling for her bit by bit. she gave him the kind of family he didn’t know he wanted. the kind of feeling where he comes home and even if they don’t make contact it feels like a warm embrace. her kindness was unconditional despite their marriage being built on contracts. and he just subconsciously started seeing an actual future with yn where there might actually be everything he ever dreamed of and it was all reconstructed because she came into his world view. he knows he’s far from perfect but he is trying his best for her, it was just that mirin’s timing in the previous few chapters were horrible :’)

[novemberthecatadmirer]

Note to myself:

When get time write a young Hurin pov short OOC Hurin & Maeglin fic on

Huor was absolutely ensnared by the beauty and wonder of Gondolin. Also there’s safety and plenty of food and beautiful blonde elf princess who was so kind so unlike girls he saw in his past life

Hurin, being the older brother, was absolutely spooked and alarmed by the Otherness of the elf city. There was something wrong with this place and these people who lived so long and personally knew actual gods

Huor naturally won everyone’s heart because he was such a good natured friendly little golden retriever with one single brain cell.

Hurin carefully thinking about and planning his each word and action to make sure to offend no one and gain these strangers’ favor.

Hurin knew nobody was allowed to leave the city. He wondered what happened to those who did not want to stay, because there must be people who did not want to stay.

What if they got trapped here until their death?

He was under so much stress. Yet he acted innocent and happy.

Hurin tried extremely hard to make the king like him. But he did not know if it would be enough to make the king allow them to leave.

Maeglin told Hurin what happened to Eol (and possibly some other deserters) and was entertained by Hurin’s horrified face

He suggested Hurin the right words to say to Turgon so that Turgon would let the brothers leave

The right words being something like “I worry if I can never see my family ever again. I don’t even know if they are alive right now. Even if they are safe they must be worrying endlessly what happened to us. I know I am safe here but I want to be with my family.”

Hurin was surprised it worked. He did not know why but it was good it worked.

(Basically poked all the Aredhel-related trauma-guilt-grief buttons in Turgon)

Hurin actually grew to like Turgon and the people in the city and the city itself during his stay in Gondolin.

Huor liked the place immediately. For Hurin it was a long process but in the end he decided these people were actually kind and he could trust this ancient elven king. It was a journey for him to build actual trust and sense of safety and sort-of sense of belonging.

Which lead to his action to protect Gondolin because he loved the city and the people. He would do everything to make sure the beauty of the city was away from the hands of Evil

And he considered Turgon his friend

Of course, he was betrayed

Because his friend would also place protection of the city and the people above everything else.

He still wondered why.

Did the king considered his elve’s lives more important & valuable than Hurin’s people’s lives because elves were more fair & beautiful and lived longer and made better things and were just superior in every ways?

He knew that were Morgoth’s words. And he did not want to believe in those words even when Morgoth was really right no one would help him now he was marked cursed stained by evil

He heard Morgoth laughing and he was not sure if that was pure hallucination

—————

Bonus of Maeglin pov

Maeglin disliked Huor (14-year-old stupid boy and having helpless crush on Idril and spoiled by the whole city and taller than him!)

The boy did not know this city fed on hopes

He actually liked Hurin a little bit because he was relatable (had common sense and actually was trying to leave to go back to family!)

Good time taking out his malice on scaring clueless mortal man

It’s okay because he would offer help to this one afterall

He did not want this man’s brother to stay any longer. He did not want to accidentally read this man’s angsty depressed stressed-our home-sick mind and this man’s mind was LOUD.

He did not want to see this man and his brother grow old years by years and eventually waste away within these walls it would look pathetic and sad

Of course he knew what to say to the king to sway the king’s heart of stone he knew what would HURT

He was still pissed off that the king actually let the brothers leave. Why this time why not earlier why not.

He hoped the brothers reach home and found their family fine and healthy waiting for them

He hoped they live as long as mortals were allowed. (Still merely a blink!) He hope they never met again

A small part of him did want to see Hurin again maybe even that idiot child

Next time he saw the brothers it was in Unnumbered Tears

(Imagine Huor being excited seeing Maeglin. His one brain cell of sunshine totally did not catch up Maeglin really disliked him.)

Things happened

Maeglin respected them

They should really stay away though

The city trapped people’s heart and drank from them like Spiders and made them die for these beautiful stone walls that had blood at their roots

Years later when Tuor showed up the man looked so much like Huor and Maeglin was like “oh no not again”

And the fucking idiot mortal child actually got the princess’ attention this time and Idril claimed that stupid golden retriever no.2 as husband

—————

Me: I just think it would be nice to have them interacting

Me: Both of them got blamed for the Fall of the city

Me: Well I AM UNFAIR I am upset Turgon 1. Outrightly rejected helping Hurin due to “fear of treason” (yes I think he played that part in the Doom) 2. Did not listen to Tuor and chose slow passive suicide if he listened Maeglin wouldn’t even be there to be snatched up like a fucking snack

[faytelumos]

A Month of Kisses, #9

"Damn it!" he yelled, throwing the file down hard on his desk. He whipped around, jabbing a finger at her. "Why! Why is it always you!" She snorted a laugh, putting a hand to her chest.

"I was just doing my job, hon'," she snapped.

"No," he growled, marching closer, "no, you're doing my job. Again!"

"Maybe if you weren't off in left field chasing leads," she said with obnoxious air quotes, "I wouldn't have to step in all the time!"

"You don't have to step in at all!" he yelled. "I have my cases perfectly conrtolled!"

"You're an idiot!" she cried. "God, the number of times I have had to cover for your ass!"

"I don't need you to cover for me!" he said slowly, enunciating each word, leaning in.

"You were nearly fired this morning!" she snapped.

"I have everything under control!"

"You don't have control of a damned thing!" she snapped, stomping her foot. "This place needs you, hon'—"

"Don't call me that!"

"—you need to take better care of yourself!"

"Stop!" he snapped, standing back, holding up his hands. He was grinning bitterly, taking a step back. "I can take care of myself perfectly well."

"When was the last time you slept?" she demanded, then quickly added: "For more than four hours?"

"Who even has that kind of time?"

"When was the last time you ate a full meal that wasn't handed to you through a window?"

"Do not tell me about the food triangle — I'm so sick of the food triangle!"

"How long has it been since you had more than one day at home doing something you enjoy?"

"I enjoy work!" he barked, every bit of him snapping back into alignment on her. "And fuck anyone who tells me that's not good enough!"

"Honey, you need a break!" she shouted, stepping closer. "You need to step back and rest!"

"No!" he cried, his eyes wild. "You just want my job!"

"Holy shit!" she screamed, wearing a humorless smile. "I am not after your fucking job!"

"That's all anyone ever wants!" he cried, backing away. "I worked too long to get here! I have clawed my way here for almost fifteen years!"

"You're invaluable!" she bellowed. "They're not just gonna throw you away!"

"Yes they will!" He turned away, trying to hide the desperate tears gathering. "They think I'm losing it! They just tried to fire me!" he hollered, looking back to her. "Make up your mind!"

She stood still, rubbing her thumbs hard against her fingertips. He was panting, his eyes were red, his fingers trembled.

"You're the best person here at what you do," she said slowly, moving closer. "I'm just trying to keep you here." He pursed his lips, anger swelling again in his chest.

"Stop. Helping me," he snarled. "Because you keep fucking me up." She growled, pressed her hands to her face, and let out a bitter chuckle.

"You're a moron," she whispered. He gritted his teeth and drew in a breath to argue, but she gripped his jacket and lunged forward, bending him backwards slightly with a kiss.

His brain stopped working for a moment. Was this real? Yes, yes, she was really kissing him. The gears started turning again, and suddenly everything she was saying made a lot more sense.

She pulled away, looking at him nervously. He registered the face he was making — complete and utter surprise — probably wasn't helping her. He looked away, and she let go of his jacket so he could smooth it out.

"Uh," he muttered, looking down at a coworker's desk, "you're not trying to…." He bit back on that question; he suddenly didn't want to fight anymore.

"I'm sorry," she rushed, backing away. "I'm sorry, that probably wasn't okay." She grabbed her keys and his head snapped up.

"Wait! Wait." She watched him, hope and worry mingling on her face. He looked down again; he had no idea what was going on right now, but it was pulling something in his chest. "Maybe… uh, maybe we can look over this case. Together." He looked up at her, but the hope and eagerness on her face made him look away instantly. "I'll try not to rip your throat out."

"Okay," she huffed. He glanced over again to see her smiling. "Okay. Yeah. I'll-I'll text you my address, uh, bring the file over; I can make us something to eat, we can go over the details." He balked; they'd just been screaming at each other five seconds ago and she actually felt comfortable inviting him to her house? Did she really even have his number?

She ran out of the office then without so much as a "bye" and left him standing at someone else's desk, still shocked. God, what was happening? Was he having a stroke?

He made his way slowly back to his desk and gathered up the papers that had slid out of the file jacket. It was fine. If she was willing to do what he asked instead of getting in his way, he'd be able to help more people.

Hopefully.

[agirldying]

i was raised in a cult and i’ve known it for four years but tonight i can’t sleep because it’s hitting me so hard right now and i don’t know why tonight and after so long. like logically i know that it’s a cult and i’ve know for ages, subconsciously longer than before i properly realized it… so why am i having a panic attack over it now? they fit nearly every single item on the BITE model and the leader is a “king” that is supposed to be a direct descendant of the Buddha and they make you pay to take courses to achieve enlightenment and reward you with shiny buttons and giving you a new “spiritual name” and also the king sexually assaulted his students because if you pay enough money and rank up enough you get to have him as your personal “guru” and my mum was one step away from taking him on as her guru before all of the allegations came out. i dont like my mum but i still feel bad for her and it’s really scary and i was brought up to tell everyone about the cult and bring my friends to our meetings and give them books about it and i am always so scared that i accidentally made someone join and what if they got hurt???? and more than anything i just want to make a video or a post or anything telling people about this cult but i can’t because so much of my support circle and friends and my favourite people are in it and i’m too sick right now if i speak up i’d lose them and i’m physically medically emotionally reliant on them. i’m scared to put the name of the cult in this post incase that’s not allowed because you said not to put names of abusers (which makes sense it’s ok) but please if anyone reading this is in a buddhist group that’s making you pay to learn about meditation that is NOT buddhism!!!!!!! they do NOT need your money the “king” is being payed tens of thousands of dollars a year and he wont even talk about that he abused people!!!!!!!! sorry this was really long i just feel like i’m suffocating because i can’t talk about it and i can’t sleep and it’s just… of course i also had to be born into a cult. i can’t just have a rare incurable illness and abusive parents who wanted me to die and terrible doctors who made my disease worse… i also had to be raised in a cult that told me my illness was my fault because of karma from my past life. and at one point my mum wanted to pray for me but she couldn’t because she hadn’t payed to take the class yet that gave her permission to say the healing prayer. not that i believe it would have helped but seeing my mum cry because she thought she couldn’t say words out loud that she already knew was so heartbreaking and i didn’t even realize it at the time!!!!!!!!!!!!!! fukcfuckfuck

- 🍀

also sorry i lost the last message i sent in and then life got really blurry for a bit but i hope ur ok

Hi 🍀,

To directly answer your question "why am i having a panic attack over it now?" in my mind it would make sense that, you know, progress isn't linear and so you can have moments like this where it all washes over you and you are reminded of how disturbing that was. I can definitely relate to that with my cptsd.

To also address "what if they got hurt?" I'm assuming you were a child while this was happening, but cults are built to deceive their followers in some exploitative way, and so I just think like, when you're under the spell of a cult so to say, is it really your fault or is it really the cult's fault? Or maybe it's a bit of both? Personally I feel like people who perpetuate a cult's message is maybe not without any kind of responsibility, but I feel like people should be mostly blaming the cult, you know? I think especially as a child it's even more excusable because you shouldn't be expected to know right from wrong necessarily (your brain is still developing and all that).

Also when I read "a cult that told me my illness was my fault because of karma from my past life" I was just like. the audacity of this fucking cult... that's such a fucked up thing to say. I guess it's not surprising that a cult would say some bullshit like that. On top of that, what you said about your mom and how "she thought she couldn’t say words out loud that she already knew" I agree that's really heartbreaking and I think it really highlights how cults operate.

I hope I could help and I hope you've been doing alright. Feel free to comment on this if you'd like, and otherwise know I'll be here.

I'm okay and thanks for asking.

[nathank77]

8/24/24

7:01 p.m Added to 7:40 p.m cause yea bo4 is down the toilet for the rest of the night and I already Masterbated so like now it's just hallucinate until I lose consciousness again. Which is triggering cause I have to close my eyes forever just to sleep bc my brain is too broken to sleep fast. Or to sleep at all.

I hope bo4 continues to be a distraction as it's getting closer to bed time and I'm getting anxious and my mental images are still not perfect.. they improved a lot but I still have to fight them and of course my hallucination never ends.

Bo4 has been touch and go... I almost got a nuclear... got a brutal (25 kills without dying) and died right after only 5 kills left. I earned so many ruthless (15 kills without dying) it's starting to go downhill now and it sucks cause I need to be distracted so I don't think about everything that I'm anxiuos about which is everything.

I really do want to kill myself, as I write this, as I think whatever, as I play I hear a voice constantly trying to interrupt my internal monolgue with fucking useless shit and I can't stand the idea that this is just forever for me.

I really might just jump to 5000mg of white mulberries bc I can't fucking cope with this anymore. It's been almost a year and I see no sign of recovery at all. None.

I don't think I'm going to recover. I honestly don't. I don't think brains recover not from this kind of damage. It's too damaged. It's too broken. It's too fucked up. It legit never stops and I mean never.

I cherish my 15 seconds every minute it's pathetic. That's "recovery."

If I can't think about it bc it makes me hallucinate then how the fuck am I supposed to stop thinking about it? It's a fucking catch 22. You don't think about it and can have true silence but once you think about it, it's back.

My brain is seriously mangled and I just want to end it all bc it's not getting better.

Maybe after hardcore barebones. Then at least I'll have some positive virtual memories to look back on. I already hung out with John. And fire. And my mother. I saw my family for the twins birthday.

So I mean maybe this is the end. It kinda makes sense. I'm never going to find a gf. Things will not improve. I'm sick of hearing it scream in the background as I write this. As I do everything.

I'm sick of wondering if everyone thinks I'm crazy bc I hear this POS. Why do I think Elise isn't talking to me. I mean for one I talk about her on my blog like a crazy guy but who would let a voice hearer near their children.

I'm damaged. I'm broken. And I can't even sleep like a person bc my brain is that fucked up.

I don't want to pretend this is living. It's not even like I can say my life is good but I struggle mentally. I struggle mentally and my life is a POS. I'm lucky I have a roof and a pot to piss in. As I hear this screaming that never fucking stops.

I got to make sure Kristen loses her license. And my life is intolerable anyways so why not seal the deal.

How do you stop thinking about something that never stops? And when it randomly does bc you get distracted by a game or TV bc no one talks to me. Being social turns it off too bad I have no prospects. But when you randomly get distracted, and then you think about how nice it is that for once things seem like they were before and BAM "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, IVE GOT A BIRTHDAY PRESENT. DEADNAME. HAPPY BIRTHDAY. THIS IS SPECIAL."

Bam it's fucking back. I want to be dead. I truly want to be dead. My mangled brain chemistry will not recover.

But when it comes down to it, I'm not going to have kids. I'm not going to get married. Even if I find someone they won't stay. Imma be 50 alone. Having had a string of serious relationships that never lead to marriage. What's the fucking point? I'm going to spend more time alone than with people bc no one is going to stay.

[tacobellpotatotaco]

man idk what i’m thinking about or what my hopes in this situation actually are but ik i’m being stupid and hopeful when i shouldnt. ik brenda is more right than i am and that i depend on this group for income now and that they have me in their interests. idk what i’m thinking. it doesn’t make any sense to protect him bc he has no interest in caring for me anymore and even if he did i still never quite felt the loyalty i can feel here now. i know i was being naive and it’s easy to blame drugs but i was seeing that uriel liked me more and more and not speaking to him those last few days hurt a lot, more than i thought it would affect me. he’s so reliable. he makes me feel so nice too. it’s those feelings i was really hoping for when i was with david but they never seem to come, even if i asked. i’ve been moving more so sometimes they don’t think i’m there. i’ve heard him talk about me to others and it’s just nice knowing people think of you so good, it feels genuine. he always says id never have to touch another door handle steering wheel or paycheck ever again. it’s sweet but i also take enough home where it doesn’t matter anymore for me either. plus i started to really like driving. karla was telling me how he was sitting at the lounge, the one w the mirror behind the booth, and she could see he was looking at my photos on my instagram. i was so surprised when he even asked for it, i usually just text people and he already had my cell anyways.

i just don’t really care about him. we already agree on all the stuff i do care about, and he’s funny and sweet and all but he just looks too much like david it also freaks me the fuck out. he’s very much a sweet guy though. he doesn’t follow anyone on instagram besides mutuals, he is so doting to me, and he never makes me feel in a rush. there was one night i sold to him and he invited me up to his apartment. he’s doing really well and it’s very pretty and decorated finely. I liked all of his drink selections, we seem to have the same taste and get along just fine. i’m just so out of my own mind that everything i wished for is kind of right in front of me and so i feel so guilty to refuse it. kinda like andrew but ten times more amplified.

i think when uriel caught wind of what i went through last year, it might have hurt him even more so that i’ve been declining to see him but i still have david on my mind quite so often. is it history that defines my feelings? I don’t really know how to answer that. I know that brenda has more power over me in this situation which is so ironic and funny. it seems like people would rather take this moral high ground than really care to listen to what i, the victim, have to say. but the logistics of the situation, that i depend on them and have a place with them makes more sense than to protect a person who just didn’t want to protect me at times. without them i am on my own. with him i am still on my own.

the lead up to this is sort of scary and i’m trying to pull my brain tumor card as much as i can, but you know how that goes.

I’m feeling sad bc his sister is sick, sort of like me, just way worse. i always loved her lots. i miss his mom and dad and i miss my puppy. i miss him a lot if that isn’t obvious and i don’t even pretend to hide it, i just obscure it with different people. i got really drunk and i slept with brenda again and it was so tense at first, we work adjacent to each other but avoided each other until we couldn’t since jenny was pressing on it. when she blew up at me she asked me why i wasted my time with guys who didn’t even care about me. maybe i was so persistent because i wanted david to care about me. and we argued and i was holding my breath not to say something stupid because i could feel the rage in my shoulders and i was holding back the tears and suddenly she looked at me with the sympathy of “fuck i tucked up and went too far and i’ve made her cry” and her face softened and she opened her arms up to me to comfort me and it was all flooding down, the same old story of going back to your ex because you miss sex where you can hear i love you. i almost wish i could have said it back but even with everything i was still bitter and just drunk enough where it could pass that i didn’t hear her. but i did.

i wonder how i can even manage to fix this. i don’t want to post this but i need this position right now. the cost of everything was fucking mind blowing. i can’t see myself not working this at least until the end of the year. it’s a lot of fucking pressure when the people who got you out of a lot of shit from your first abuser sees you trying to defend an ex boyfriend that choked you. i know i look stupid to them but i don’t care. i’m not sober anymore but i’m not stupid either. i worked really hard to kick the drugs at first but it was hard not to go back when you’re dealing with people so impossible to be around. i wish they could just get off my case about it.

i like feeling loved and missed. uriel seems to do a pretty good job of that. i hate saying what i’m about to say because a) i don’t want to admit it happened and b) it’s really mean. but i did sleep with him too. and it was really really bad because he does not know how to fuck. it was the first time i’ve had sex and it was cringey almost. i hate the way he moans and it’s awkward the way he touches me. he’s also the type to say the corniest things and none of them were delivered well. but i always get him to finish because it’s the nice thing to do, and, well, if i had to be honest i think i just let him have sex with me because i might have felt bad for him. i didn’t want to feel like a douche afterwards since he’s been taking such good care of me and quite honestly does everything i need and want and more. i didn’t want to do this cause i wanted him. i just want to like him, and i know that i am starting to.

the more surprising thing is, with the worst sex in my life aside from literal assault, was that i did it again, last night. and i fucked up so bad but i just, i really wanted the second thing that i craved. he gives me such good aftercare. i wish it could be televised, almost. he is so fucking good with me like he’s taking care of the most precious girl in the world. that’s how i feel and that’s how i wanted to feel. with brenda it was this weird cathartic release that felt natural and honest and angry and still sort of erotic and romantic. she liked to have this hold over me, and it reflected in sex. uriel makes me his equal. he seems to really protect me or at least karla says so. we don’t even bring up the subject anymore because he knows i shut down, so he just smiles at me and tells me i’m alright to be honest when i’m ready and he never brings it up after that. he smells my hair and my clothes and buttons all my clothes and dresses me and he calls me when he’s drunk, and he seems to be drunk a lot, which makes me sad. he’s so smart and nice to me. i even wonder why he doesn’t go for the fronter girls, brenda and jenny and karla and the others. they are all so much more well adjusted than i am, and impossibly pretty too. i’m a mover because it’s the one thing i’m not scared of doing. they give me projects that are more high risk and more involved and all that matters is that i’m a girl since it’s more nondescript and convenient. the fronters kept the party going. i can’t remember what he said or really what i said, because i was high out my mind. but i semi casually remember that it got through to me and i know he wants more out of me.

maybe i’m easily manipulated tho but i truly do not know this outcome for anything or anyone. god fucking save me!!!!

[thelostdisaster82]

So once again ……

It all makes sense! From the white sand in my bed and only my side of the bed sheets comforter and mattress and pillows all wet the water next to the bed every time I get up in the middle of the night. My neighbor who knows a bunch of useless knowledge or at least pretends he does,. To me when they get talking I tone them out but for some reason there are few things my brain remembers….

1.“dry drowning.”

(When this airway closure happens and no water goes into your lungs, that’s technically dry drowning, explains Dr. Milk. “The injury happens from a lack of air and asphyxiation.”)

2. reflex called a laryngeal spasm.

3. Pulmonary edema

(causes you to have trouble breathing or experience frightening sensations like shortness of breath and chest tightness. “Liquid, or fluid, is actually in your airway,” he continues. “You’re kind of drowning in your own fluid, even though you’re not in the water.”)

4. Heavy, persistent coughing.

Shortness of breath or trouble breathing.

Fever

Dry mouth or foaming at mouth

Skin discoloration

So my neighbor old roommate was at his house grant u we haven’t seen her in few months since we had falling out bcuz I’m pretty sure she was screwing my husband . I called her out on it and she quit coming around or speaking to us. Or me at least I thought.

When we went over there she pops off with

Drowning would be a shitty way to die. I mean u just can’t breathe screw that. … i mean the cops done took my truck spray it down looking for blood on it couldn’t pin shit on us anyhow so fuck it!

My husband like ya hahaha

My neighbor says right then …

My neighbor starts going on about pulmonary edema Heavy, persistent coughing. Shortness of breath… their lungs fill up and they just quit breathing. Your lungs stop functioning correctly.

Idk wth the whole conversation ever came from bout drowning or anything and I was just completely flabbergasted.

And it hit me like a ton of bricks today.

My husband always telling me he gonna kill me and make it look like accident.

This would be exactly that. Im not a smoker yet when I walk from bedroom to bathroom im outta breathe my skin color has been off kinda grayish white and I feel like I’ve got something stuck in my throat all the time and I can’t seem to drink enough and Always have extremely dry mouth. Fevers on and off and the absolutely worst headache of my life and my legs and stomach and face are swollen.

The sad part is I just don’t fucking understand why someone who has done absolutely everything I could possibly do for him and yet he would want to hurt me like that? Craziness! It breaks my whole heart. Why would he do that to me? I know the other two people are fucked up sick twisted mf who I still ain’t scared of. Any man that has to sleep with pistol on his chest has some pretty fucked up demons and he says he shoots when they run well coward if ur gonna shoot me ur gonna look at me when u do it cuz I am not afraid to die….do me a favor but knowing the person u love would devise a plan like that? And as far as the fat bitch….I thought u was my friend but all u are is left overs has beens …with bleached out crotch panties….leave that shit at ur own house oh that’s right ……u don’t have one u lost it! I used to feel sorry for u but now I know why ur best friend friend fucked ur bf it’s called karma for doing the same to someone who didn’t even know ur ass yet I made ur bf look like bitch n took ur truck back left him on side of gas station looking like Edna bcuz u had to move out and he had taken ur truck. But it’s all good ! U will always be third wheel in ur threesomes…mf laugh at u bout ur sad notes u wrote them bout being third wheel … but my own husband to stoop down to this is beyond me. Gag is up Check mate mfs u lose….I’ll always be smarter than u! Not to mention I am Not a Holy person but I’m perfectly protected by my God! So kick rocks and eat fish heads…if something happens to me they know where to go!

[raccoon0001]

November 20th, Monday 20:38

So, first of all, hello, Im Raccoon, well at least i would like to be one. Im 17 years old and i frequently write down my thoughts when i feel sad or angry in a pink notebook by my bed, for the past four maybe three years.

And lately i have been thinking of just trying to write down my thoughts everyday, about how i feel, to know what i am even feeling, and that I'm not just overwhelmed and impulsive at the moment. So i don't ruin my next week or day by obsessing over that one boy that smiled that one time at me or was funny. Because in reality he doesn't like me and i need to step down and realise that, but maybe he does and everything is not a big fat lie, but it is. At least for me, mostly. Everything, almost, everything is fine in my life, except for being kinda fat and not having a real, single boyfriend in my 17 years of living. I know that is not that much and what i am even worrying about, because i have the whole life ahead of me(i dont see myself living past 20). Well could kind of imagine it, but because of one thing and another i always thought i would not live past 18, but now i am 17 so its quite possible i will live past 18, dont really know what will happen afterwards.

Its kind of a dilemma i know to love someone u need to first love yourself and shit, but i really hate myself most of the time, i hate how i look, i hate how lazy i am, i hate stressful i am, i hate how sick i am...yada yada yada. I know there are physical things i am able to fix, but how do i know i just wont regress? Even now im imagining how this blog or whatever this is, is gonna get popular, and be turned into inspiration for poems or people, but after all this text is just my personal feelings, about myself, for myself, that dont really make sense sometimes, because my native language is not english lol and im typing in a hurry and then gonna prob put a pretty background or something and post it if i get the courage, well its a very big probability nobody is going to read this ever, bcs lets honest who reads blogs these days..

always the artist never the muse" i have been very attached to this quote(dont know who is the author) i even begun last year attending professional art school, so i will probably never be the muse even how much i want to be one. Its almost the same with taking pictures, im always taking pictures of others and there are almost never anyone taking picture of me without asking. Well i dont really like people specially taking pictures of me, because of how ugly i look, but still, i dont know. Theres this one friend who takes pictures of me, because that of other things that that person does makes me think im gay or that she likes me, because shes gay. I think im not gay. Like i would prefer a guy fucking my brains out not a girl, but i could never imagine anyone fucking me, mby i can.. hmm not rly, maybe because i have never been fucked, or my imagination is kinda weak. Well i am in art school so i thought it should be good, but lately, well after that thing in 2018 april, I think i have been in this one giant art block. Maybe i need to go to a therapist, to sort things out, not really sure.

I wish sometimes i was a boy. And i think i stink right now, fully emotionally and physically. Whats up with that.

I must have too many dreams and too little motivation.

I dont think i should have continued art, its too much, im not even good at painting, if i actually started practicing more maybe i would, but i think im still worse than most of my peers. And in this school there are mostly girls here and i know almost nobody outside the school and town bcs i didnt even live here two years ago, the ppl who have lived here their whole childhood dont even know where to turn to get a shortcut!

My goal this evening was to paint something, but somehow i started writing a blog..

I think i should have been better of dying that day in 2018. Im not good of a person and i dont really know if ill ever change. What does actually happen after death? Has anyone thought of that? I kind of think after you die its just all pitch black and then u suddenly open your eyes and there you are as your first memory u can think of at 10 years old or whatever, like 'snap' and there you are, but dont know who you were or who you will be. I kind of want to get into biology, but idk if a have the commitment for it.

Two days ago when i was a home visiting my family, after sauna, I was sitting by the table with some other cousins at my grandmas house and one of the older cousins, who was kinda drunk btw, asked me if i had a boyfriend, i thinking already of crying and just jumping down a building calmly said: "no, do i need one?". i want one.

I think my mom is homophobic, but. i also think that im not gay, but i will probably never get a bf, because ppl these days are very obsessed by how other ppl look from the outside mostly or i just dont know a lot of ppl and real life is not like the movies or manga that i read in my free time, that i should stop reading, maybe that would solve everything.

Also by wishing that i was a male, because it really seems to be bit easier to be a boy, how the world looks at you, and how theres a lot more chance of no rejection. Maybe im just living in my small minded world and have not that many ppl with different opinions on life that would make me understand that the world works differently. A lot of ppl around me also believe we are born to fulfil our one mission here on earth, i still dont see mine here, like ppl would be fine if i went and died and go on with they're life normally, because im just this one little spec of dust besides other 7 billion dust pieces, that separately are a nobody. Maybe my family would be devastated, but prob would be prepared for this kind of event about me and i think it would be much easier for my mum if i died, she worries too much about me.



Im just lonely.

A selfish bitch.

[hardpacker]

there is a lot of frustration and anxiety and retroactive grieving that comes with it but i am really glad that i eventually pursued reading and learning and talking more (like with therapists mainly but also some good people in my life) about being autistic. it was mostly out of anka suggesting it to me a few times but i was really unsure for a while. now my therapists and even my doctor (kind of) are talking to me more about it and figuring out what kind of help i know i need and ideas for what could be useful...

it really sucks, but it makes so much sense to me now why in may 2020, sooner than the year or year and a half it took for a lot of other people, i could acutely tell something was Seriously Going Wrong with my brain, grasping at words, not being able to access what should have been vivid since my memory is apparently quite good-- with all my real life connections and contexts and activities halted. and why recovery time is so much slower and the burnout, the becoming sluggish, not being able to speak and further information feeling painful, is so much worse now... but also, it's not new. it's happened before. it happened all through college and i had no idea that's what was doing it. and life was different, i didn't have as much time to reflect, i knew less about myself to be able to connect the dots in any kind of informative way, much less try to tell other people about it.

it feels like something is unlocked in a profound way, way way way different than being told to go on one antidepressant after another and getting sick each time. now i'm on a different kind of medication to help manage distress and there isn't any sickness at all. i'm summing this up extremely quickly because i have things to do, but it just clicks so solidly, decisively. i know what would really benefit me is patience and understanding me in good faith. i think i'm a pretty consistent person. i think i try to maintain a whole, well-rounded view of people, even if part of that is because some things i just can't forget (and worrying if i'm remembering "the right things") and even if i can't expect other people to hold me in their mind like that... i'd at least like to be received with even some of this in mind.

it bummed me out when friends drifted away when things didn't suddenly get better for me. it bums me out to see that happening to other people too. maybe it comes off as creepy/inappropriate to still feel strongly about someone based on what i think are foundational friendship components or interactions, if whatever it is that brought us together still seems intact to me, maybe i can't pick up on what they view as the separation-- lack of frequent talking, not picking up new shared interests? my feelings were hurt recently when only a couple people congratulated me on the Ignatz nomination or all the comics i've done recently, because i thought those were things other people were passionate about too, or at the very least, required little emotional depth to acknowledge. i feel really bad when i miss a milestone in people's lives, and maybe the fact is that i haven't had the same milestones to share. but isn't that normal...? idk. i feel like i do reach out to people but maybe it's not in the same ways that they value. i'd like to be given a chance. or maybe i just need to find people who i don't have to chase. i think it's both? i need to better understand what other people like but i also think the internet is no way to do this. everyone is extremely keyed up and defensive and you can rewrite a person at will.

i'm still confused and increasingly weirded out about T cutting me off, if just that i did try to bring it up more directly and understand her feelings, but maybe directness is misread by other people, maybe it's just not that common. in remembering other weird misunderstandings or unsettling, confusing interactions with people, or my default mode of appeasement/dissociation (which i'm doing my best to quit) i can take some of the blame off myself. the blame isn't autism's, either. this actually makes it easier to just be like, yknow, the other person DID act out of pocket about this. this stuff WAS kind of nothing and yes it COULD have been handled differently. but i also am not good at remaining in 1 fandom, placating anybody for all that long, keeping quiet, toeing whatever social line i'm "supposed to", and i know i have a hard time shaking off my values or like, morals?, even if it'd serve me better-- i'd like to be more flexible, while also being consistent, which is something really important to me in terms of how i'm read by other people. like nothing coming out of left field. but understanding other people may not have the perspective i do.

and that should be okay so long as it isn't actually hurtful. like everyone is different people. i agree with my friends more than i don't (makes sense) but i can't think of a situation where in a disagreement, my intent was to HURT, rather than express confusion/upset/anger. you can't ask questions online without sounding challenging, even if that same question can be expressed in real life with no problem. but i'm wondering if people more often remember how you made them feel, not the details within or surrounding it. and that's something to balance. i tend to be more critical of myself than other people, and default to an assumption of good intent first, but that's ALSO a good way to ignore important signs. and avoid the simple answer to "why would this person want to hurt me?" which might be "they don't care about you and they wanted to." i don't want to be a fucking pushover.

i might not know the "right" way to talk to people, but i know 100% that i do try, and in my adult life especially, have always tried. and i hope continuing to do that will yield a sense of comfort, ease, stability that i've been longing for since connections to other friends have become tenuous these past few years. my ideal is being comfortable in a group of people and not being scared of saying something wrong or having ~weird~ interests or expressing them in a weird way. i think this is also why trying to suck all the "ill-fitting" interests or aspects of things i like/myself, my comforts, my art, gender, sexuality, dress, everything, never worked-- i can't cultivate some kind of scene-based personality, i can't become a different person just because it'd be easier to navigate the world that way. it's not going to happen. and i guess that needs to be alright.

it is mournful to think about how like... even if my parents or schools had known, there's no way i would've been treated any better. it wouldn't have amounted to anything. i would've been bullied and abused more, if anything, or it would be the exact same as it is now-- maybe they would've never told me. so i can't even imagine a life where this would've offered some sense of freedom before now, but maybe i could've learned to be less expectant of myself faster. god i just remembering being so overwhelmed needing to lie down in the dark for a while. drawing in class was the best way to remember any of the information because it was tied to an action, which then grounded me in a time and place, and everything else fills in around it, the memory is built from the minute and outward. the missing spaces in memory are what's most unsettling because they're so exceptional to me. and thinking with shaky confidence starting around 5th grade like "i must be acting like everyone else, right?" even though the cold and irritated way with which people handled me pointed at something else. feeling wickedly ill at-ease basically my entire life, just uncomfortable, sick to my stomach, stressed, bearing all of that in mind. trying over and over. ugh. really frustrating, really sad. so many kids grow up like this.

AND MY FUCKING... ALLERGIES AND SENSITIVITIES AND AUTOIMMUNE DISORDER AND MY MAST CELL SHIT........................................ LIKE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK okay

i don't have a good closer to this sorry lol

[badheart]

🐻🐴 either or both / wet dream bora & han

There was no memory of how she got here, but it did not came to her mind anyway, as she only ever realized that it was a dream, once she woke up. They had chatted as usual, it had been a nice moment and perhaps she even had smiled. She enjoyed seeing him, being near him, it did not make sense to her yet, as of why she was so drawn to him. Perhaps it was his natural charm, and there sure had to be a reason as of why so many people flogged to him.

They sat so close, his hand came around her neck, toying with her hair, while his eyes never seemed to leave her own. It was mesmerizing, she barely noticed how he got even more touchy, she did not seem to mind. "Should you not focus on your work," she joked. 'I am.' She could not stop him, when he suddenly pinned her down on the mattress, the change of scene completely going past her. Suddenly they were in his room and he never allowed her to escape his intense gaze. Dark brown eyes were supposed to be soothing, but his felt piercing daggers but not in an uncomfortable way. She really did not know. His face had always caught her interest, but she would not consider it some kind of attraction now. He was her boss after all, and she had to remain focused. Focused on his eyes, while she slowly melted under his touch. His hands seemed to be everywhere.

He was so close, and her eyes seemed to close when he began to kiss her. He was so gentle. This time, she reached for his neck, pulling him back down to her. It seemed to be the only logical thing to do in this situation but for once, she was not thinking much anyway. Bo-ra could tell, that she was nude, but there was no focus on her body whatsoever. It was better so, the burned marks they had left on her, would only pull her into darker memories. She wanted to remain in the now.

She ended up looking down on him, an encouraging smile on his lips, which she returned, while moving her hips. She could feel his hands wandering along her thighs before grabbing her, and it was then, when she woke up. She was still half-asleep. The room was only partially dark, as a few night lights shone here and there. Her room was far from minimalistic. Half-dazed, she reached with her arms forward, but of course, there could not be anyone, her bed was small, only fit for one person. It confused her nonetheless. Where was Han? How embarrassing... what happened? Bo-ra sat up, once she had turned on the light, that dream had left her confused enough, and she stared rather irritated at the wall, before on each side of her bed. Finding her whale shark plush animal on the other side. "..." Sometimes, she still did not feel like a grown up woman, not ready for adulthood ever, but forced into it.

That dream had been weird, and it felt like, she had already forgotten most details but his face stayed the most in her mind and perhaps the closeness. Now this, truly could be only experienced in a dream for her. How kind of her brain, but did it really have to be her boss? She actually felt filthy, the more she thought about it. This was not right, and she decided to take a shower, only to look even more irritated, when she pulled her panties down and spotting a wet spot. "..." This was not right. It felt like, she had abused her boss for her own pleasure, nothing she had wanted though or desired. It was not meant for her. And she looked down at her scars, which only made her feel sick again, but she tried to block out the memories. At least in the shower, no one could see her tears.

They had left her broken, and some may choose the path of forgiveness and move on, but that was not the path she had chosen, it would not fix the many cracks. Nothing could be undone, but she could reclaim her honor via revenge. And in that sense was Han nothing but a tool, nothing she should forget about.

[mahal039]

Injustice

In 5 days will mark a month since I've started to relapse in depression.

Last night,I felt more than hopeless and was playing way too close with fire.Searching the purpose of life,the "why" of all of this;even though I'm a christian and I know my purpose,I sometimes tend to ignore it and my brain is like "this is the part we are going to hide from you even though you might really get hurt".So yeah,not a great night per say.

Then I watched a video from someone one YouTube,someone that I have been following for nearly 5 years.This person is the easy target,mentally he has strong and out of the box opinions,physically he is like a person in the emo/alt universe from 2009.You get it why he is an easy target now?

So he posted a video on which he was opening up about his struggles for 2 years of bullying,harrassment because people were accusing him of doing/having done really bad things,but the thing is he is innocent. There has been huge misunderstandings, things taken out of context and just hypocrisy from a lot of people that literrally want him DEAD. This person has been on the verge to do something irreversible for a bunch of ignorant,trash people not even taking time to hear both sides or even do a 2 second research on you tube. And during all of this 2 years no one contacted him publicly to defend himself, to explain the things so he took matters in his own hands and made a 7hour video and more videos after that,explaining A to Z behind all of these non-sense accusations,he reached out to lawyers and none of them took his case because "it wasn't interresting enough",he was told innocent by the law literally, and after all of this he still gets threat/death messages.He was attacked in his own house!This type of actions were done by middle schoolers/high schoolers in my days.And now we're talking about about 20+ people acting the same.

In the end,what happened was that I gained this rage in me,I experienced the same kind of ignorant people all my life for whatever reason that was trending each year,for haircut,my body,my teeth,my basic modest styles and alt styles,for the fact that I was studying,reading,did not use social media,did not have a phone in middle school.All of these almost killed me a few years ago.Even though I kind of understand the sickness of this world,it was never this physical and this dangerous.

So my brain reacted in a strange way,and I got a lesson out of this injustice.Are you gonna live your life for ignorant,close-minded,people who think they are God and can make in such danger a life of someone?taking revenge on an innocent that happened to be an easy target?nah,not for me anymore.Everytime from now on,someone acts this way towards me,I would've ignored and look away,taking their lack of neurons and emotional intelligence as Gospel to my life,now I will look at them in the eyes and see them as they are,a bunch of useless monsters in my life.

I have red spiky hair,I'm not showing enough skin for them,I look cold,I go out with no friends,I have scars from up to toe.Then what?

I'll never let you in,it's long enough,I take back my life right now,like Bon jovi said "it's my life,it's now or never and I ain't gonna live forever" I know who I am in the eyes of God,my identity is not in who you think I am,I am who He says I am.

By the way,just with the way you act and think toward people and me not understanding why someone would go so low and do such hideous things,show me who has a pure and innocent heart.Face it, who is better between me & you.

Ps:all of this is part of what I think,without any filters because sometimes you have to be crude for people to realise things.

Kill'em with kindness-Selena Gomez