#can’t get anything done can’t sleep and can only work on impulse

[jrreigns]

Summer Heat

It’s the middle of the night and it’s hot. Levi can’t get the thought of you bouncing on his cock out of his mind.

CW: Levi x fem!reader, needy!Levi, pwp (?), established relationship, edging, masturbation, sub!Levi, bottom!Levi.

A/N: Sorry, I love soft, subby Levi. Also, I thought fall weather was finally here and today the humidity has returned T_T. It feels like summer again. 1.2k~ words of smut.

Also, anyone else like turning on the AC so that it’s so cold you can use a blanket to sleep?

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

There was a certain restlessness that plagued Levi tonight. 

He couldn’t tell if it was the humidity that lingered in your small room or if it was the blaring sight of the numbers on the clock on your nightstand. You grew cold so quickly as soon as he turned on the air conditioner, so he refrained from turning it on too often in the middle of the night, much to his dismay. The blanket that covered the both of you only made things stuffier, but again he complied only because it was you.

Humidity or it was the glimpse he caught of your sleeping form beneath the covers, legs appearing divine beneath the soft fabric of an oversized t-shirt, the hem of it hiked up and underwear on full display.

It wasn’t anything particularly sexy, but given that you and Levi have only up until recently embarked on the more sexual side of your relationship, it had him sweating profusely. Levi willed the thoughts away, but ever since you’ve sheathed yourself on his cock for the first time, he couldn’t help but want you anywhere and everywhere.

He looked at your face, snoring softly, lips slight agape.

The things your mouth has done to him.

It was fascinating just how quickly that mouth has worked him up. It didn’t make more than the sight of you right now to have his cock twitching and aching, begging to be touched. 

He scoffed at himself.

He was acting undisciplined and impulsive. He hated it. So needy, so ferociously and passionately needy.

Levi tossed and turned, before finally giving up; embarrassment and shame settling momentarily in his bones, before he finally let desperation win. He didn’t want to bother you, he couldn’t bother you, especially not at this ungodly hour.

Past the hem of his pants, the waistband of his boxers, he finally gripped his leaking semi-hard cock, breath hitching as he did. 

It was hot, too hot, as he languidly pumped, the humidity of your apartment creating a sheen of sweat to form beneath the wisps of his bangs. He hated it, it felt disgustingly humid, and yet the image of your lips around his cock, the image of you on top of him, forced him to push through. He imagined your soft praises, your god yes and your breathy huffs of just like that. 

Levi bit his bottom lip, focusing hard on your soft snoring, about to cum when he forced his hand to stop, right at the edge to prolong the feeling. Yes, you would be proud, eyes filled with admiration that he still fought hard to get accustomed to. He let out a soft sigh as he wounded and unwounded himself.

One hand comes to desperately shove his sweatpants and briefs down, only enough for his cock to spring free. His other hand comes to find the remote to your AC unit, turning it on so that the humming can disguise some of the throaty sounds that escaped him.

Frustration nibbled at him as he desperately tried to mimic your fingers, the way they wrapped themselves around his length, but it was hopeless. His calloused hands were no match for your soft ones, fingers that delicately wrapped themselves around him, rubbing over the head and down, covering his cock with his own pre-cum. He gritted his teeth at the image.

A low whimper emanates from deep inside him, and for a moment, only for a moment, he allows himself the pleasure of it, a low groan of your name slipping out of him. He edges himself forward, almost there, oh, a-almost there. His hand speeds up, imagining you bouncing on him, the way your hips shifted atop him, forwards and back, using his dick to get to your own climax. So good.

He can feel the cum pooling deep in his balls, wanting to so desperately shoot out and stain your pristine sheets, sheets he helped wash up since the last time he made a mess. Breathy pants give away just how close he is to the precipice, and right as he’s about to urge himself forward, to cum and cum hard, he focuses on the sound of your soft snoring.

The sound is absent.

Despite the sweatiness, Levi could feel that the room has reached a cooler temperature now. It’s enough to clear the pleasure-stricken haze of his mind. You were probably still sleeping, right, you had to be.

He doesn’t need to turn to know you’re awake, he already knows, and the hand that meets his shoulder confirms the thought. You shuffle, bringing your lips to his ear, breathy whispers that send a shiver down his spine.

“What are you doing baby?”

He was going to mumble some kind of excuse, an apology for his lack of self-control, but you move quickly, pulling the covers away from him, goosebumps forming on his skin as you exposed him. The sight must’ve truly been sickening, he thought, tip of his cock pink and leaking, the hem of his pants halfway down his thighs, half of his ass bare on your white sheets, face red. There’s no lie that could possibly explain this.

Levi’s confused when he finds need in your eyes. Instead of ridiculing him, you hum and your face breaks out into a smirk.

“If you wanted to be touched, you should’ve just asked.”

I didn’t want to bother you, he wants to say. We’ve been doing it all week, how needy can I get?

Your fingers come to graze the tip of his length and softly moves lower, Levi lets out a groan.

It’s enough to trigger a spasm between your legs, it’s enough for an ache to develop in your lower belly.

You move quickly to straddle him, moving your panties to the side, just enough to let him slip inside.

“W-wait,” he beings, crying out your name as you notch his dick against your wetness, the consequences of edging himself finally on the verge of discovery as his cock twitched against you. Your hands met the hardness of his abdomen as the first ring of your tightness surrounds his thick length.

“You want me to wait after hearing you say my name like that,” you say breathlessly, sinking lower, a moan of his name coming from your parted lips. Levi’s head falls back against the pillow, orgasm looming and threatening to spill.

“Don’t worry—ah—I’ll make it all better, Levi. Oh—your cock feels so good inside me,” you tell him as you cover him completely, your pussy smothering all of him, wetness feeling so good for him.

“It’s all inside,” you say breathlessly, and you slide up and down once, twice, three times.

It’s too good, too good, too good.

Tears slip down Levi’s cheeks as he cums, jaw clenched as he grits your name through his teeth. Your eyes widen as you feel his silky warmth shoot inside you, but you don’t stop moving as he does, watching as his face contorts in pleasure, content, before he’s overstimulated, brows furrowing and nose scrunching.

You fight through the ache and stop moving, leaning down to look at him.

You smirk as he finally opens his eyes, blue-gray eyes looking at you.

“What am I going to do with you,” you ask him playfully, hand coming to caress his cheek. He sighs contently.

Love me, he thinks, but he doesn’t voice it at all. He knows you already do.

[randomprose]

now posted on AO3!

Mo Guan Shan is sitting on the kitchen island eating a sandwich when He Cheng walks in. 

He looks up from scrolling through his phone, looking a little startled. 

“Mo Guan Shan,” He Cheng acknowledges with a nod before heading to the fridge. 

“Uh. Hey, boss."

“Where’s He Tian?"

“Still sleepin’,” he shrugs. “Got bored an’ hungry waitin’ for him to wake up.”

He Cheng just hums. His brother has always been one to sleep in late even as a child. 

“Have you eaten?” Mo Guan Shan asks, a hand scratching the back of his neck. He looks awkward standing in He Cheng’s kitchen — rarely used, all stainless steel, and state of the art — yet strangely comfortable behind the counter near the stoves. At least before He Cheng came in. This is the most relaxed He Cheng has ever seen him in his house over the years.

He mulls the question over, probably blurted out on impulse. He’s really only here to get a bottle of water. 

“I've had coffee”, was what he said after awhile. He can’t quite remember what time that was. Some time between the early hours of a new day and before the crack of dawn.  

Mo Guan Shan frowns, brows knitted together. The kid is very expressive, He Cheng observes. Easy to draw reaction from. He can see why He Tian loses his shit pushing this kid’s buttons.

“That’s not exactly food.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.” Never had the stomach for it. Just never made sense for him to eat so early in the morning.

“Er. It’s past noon, boss,” Mo Guan Shan somehow feels the need to remind him. He Cheng just stares at him. “Technically it’s lunchtime bordering on…mid-afternoon snack?”

It dawns on He Cheng that, given his answer, this kid wants him to eat something. Mo Guan Shan either has certain manners drilled into him — He Cheng caught him eating when he entered the kitchen so he felt the need to offer him something as well — or he has an inane need to take care of people. Just like He Tian. 

He Cheng supposes that’s a good thing, if a bit of a soft touch — something that has no room in the world he and He Tian live in but is nonetheless welcomed and desired by He Cheng for his brother. He Tian could’ve done so much worse. At least He Cheng knows his brother is eating and taken care of. He swears that kid never knows how to look after himself. 

“If you insist,” He Cheng allows and sits on a stool at the kitchen counter. 

Mo Guan Shan visibly relaxes. Like he’s relieved He Cheng agreed he could cook for him. If he hadn’t ran a thorough background on him he’d think he’s going to try and poison him. Except the kid is terrible at hiding his expressions and controlling his body language and He Cheng has known him since he was in middle school.

“Alright. So, uh, what are you hungry for?”

He Cheng isn’t really hungry for anything, but he does acknowledge that he hasn’t eaten since yesterday and this will only be his first meal of the day. Still, he doesn’t think he can stomach a full meal right now. 

“Just eggs will do.”

“Okay,” Mo Guan Shan nods. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled,” is all he says. No mention of how he likes it cooked, no preference for seasoning, no specifications of any kind. He Cheng doesn’t really care as long as it's edible and won’t upset his stomach. 

Mo Guan Shan gets to work in silence. He Cheng watches him move and is not at all surprised that he knows his way around, knows where everything is. Qiu mentioned the kid is good in the kitchen, more than a decent cook, and is not above admitting that he enjoys his food despite the disaster that occured the one and only time the kids came over his place and had Mo Guan Shan made them dinner. He Cheng knows this, too. He knows that the kid is apprenticing in a family restaurant and is saving up to go to culinary school. He’s had to drop by He Tian’s place occasionally and was pleasantly surprised that his brother isn’t just subsisting on take-outs if at all.  

But it’s just eggs and He Cheng isn’t really expecting anything. Eggs are just eggs after all.

After just about twenty minutes, Mo Guan Shan puts down a plate of the fluffiest looking scrambled eggs He Cheng has ever been served garnished with spring onions and what seem to be crushed potato chips. He serves it with a glass of orange juice on the side and the whole ensemble looks like it’s been lifted out of a lifestyle cooking magazine. 

He Cheng takes a forkful and lets out a low pleased sound at the back of his throat.

"Good?" Mo Guan Shan asks, a corner of his lips quirked up in quiet satisfaction the way a cook is when they know someone enjoys their food.

"It is." He Cheng maintains that eggs are still just eggs but this really is good. Qiu’s not exaggerating then. 

The eggs are light and cooked just right, lightly seasoned with the melted cheese adding another layer of flavor, and the potato chips give it a good crunch. He’s never even thought of potato chips as anything other than junk food.

"Yeah. Figured you and Tian like your scrambled eggs the same." Mo Guan Shan comments as he sits back down to finish his sandwich. "First time I made it he looked so pissed even though he couldn't stop shovelling eggs in his mouth. Thought he might've hated it and was just eating it to, I don’t know, not hurt my feelings or some shit, but then I heard him curse you under his breath and ask for seconds."

A thought that comes to He Cheng: He Tian eats breakfast and likes his eggs scrambled just like him.

“He hates it, but he's really alike you in a lot of ways, you know.”

Well, of course he is, He Cheng agrees. He practically raised that kid. He Tian’s bound to pick up some of He Cheng’s mannerisms and preferences for certain things whether he likes it or not.

“Coffee? Brewed a new batch.”

“Please.”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Just black, thanks.”

“You sure?" Mo Guan Shan asks like he doesn't believe him. 

“I like it as it is.” 

“Huh,” Mo Guan Shan sounds out before shrugging and pouring out two mugs.

This prompts He Cheng to ask, "Does Tian-di not take his coffee black then?"

It occurs to him that he doesn’t know his brother at all. Maybe there was a time that he did, when He Tian was small and only had him, but He Cheng doesn’t claim that he knows his brother beyond his childhood days. While He Tian seems to come to him more and more these days, their relationship is still rather estranged and not at all conventional, however that may be. 

All He Cheng knows of He Tian is that his brother is of the good sort and that’s enough for him. 

He Tian cares for his friends and cares for Mo Guan Shan in ways He Cheng will probably never understand. He’s better than He Cheng in a lot of ways that matter, more human perhaps, which suits him just fine. He never wanted He Tian to be someone their family has morphed and twisted to suit their needs and use as see fit. He never wanted He Tian to be like him. 

And so He Cheng finds himself indulging in wanting to know the little things that make up his brother. Like how he likes his eggs and how he drinks his coffee.

“He does but I know he hates it. Everytime he drinks it he makes a face like it's poison.” Mo Guan Shan shrugs as he sits down across from him. He hands He Cheng one of the mugs and nurses one himself. “I don't know why he insists on drinking it this way.” 

He Cheng just hums, breathing in the aroma of the coffee, not unaware of the way Mo Guan Shan is pointedly looking at him.

“Tian-di probably just can’t be bothered to have it otherwise.”

“Nah. He probably just thinks it makes him all mature and tough. As if cream and sugar makes you weak or some shit.”

Just before they both move to take a sip from their mugs, He Cheng mutters “Idiot” under his breath at the same time Mo Guan Shan scoffs it. They stop and couldn’t help to smirk at their consensus.

It’s good to know someone else can see through his brother’s bullshit.

He Cheng notes that Mo Guan Shan takes his coffee black. Mo Guan Shan just shrugs when he points this out. 

“I like the bitter taste. It’s what keeps you awake,” he says before taking another sip. “And you taste the flavor of the beans better without the cover up of milk or sweetener.”

A fair assessment. He Cheng will drink to that.

For a while, they sat in silence as they finish their meals. Then Mo Guan Shan’s phone lights up. He drains the last of his coffee as he swipes at the screen. It seems a message has popped up because he picks it up and types something back. He Cheng surmises it’s probably He Tian, just woken up, asking where Mo Guan Shan is. 

"Refill?" Mo Guan Shan offers, walking back to where the coffee pot is.

"No, thank you.”

Mo Guan Shan refills his cup and adds three spoons of cream and two sugar cubes. He Tian enters the kitchen with a jaw cracking yawn just as Mo Guan Shan is back on his seat and finished stirring. His brother takes the seat beside the redhead across from him and He Cheing watches the latter push the mug at He Tian’s direction. The cup is only three-quarts full. 

“I’m done. Finish this.”

“You always do this. Why bother pouring a full cup if you’re not gonna drink even half of it?” He Tian quips but takes the mug anyway. 

He Cheng notes his brother doesn’t make a face after the first sip. He Tian even licks at his upper lip and a corner of his mouth is quirked up. 

“What’s for breakfast?”

“It’s way past noon.”

“It’s my first meal of the day. What’s for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs,” He Cheng answers before Mo Guan Shan could and delights at the face his brother makes when he sees what’s on his plate and realizes who made it.

‘What the…’ He Tian mouths as he narrows his eyes at what remains of He Cheng’s meal.

“You know what, I actually don’t want scrambled eggs. I want—”

“Tough shit. I’m already making them and you’re gonna eat it when it’s done.”

He Tian makes a low whining displeased sound but nonetheless doesn’t protest. “Throw in some bacon.”

“Alright.”

He Tian doesn’t offer to help beyond getting the pack of bacon from the fridge, handing it to Mo Guan Shan before returning to his seat. Like it’s routine. Like there’s an unspoken agreement that Mo Guan Shan cooks and He Tian stays out of his way. And He Cheng gathers he’s probably been shooed away and out of the kitchen when the other is at work. He Cheng can’t imagine his brother even knows how to operate a stove — just another thing they have in common by virtue of being born to money. 

He Tian's attention is solely on Mo Guan Shan. His back is to He Cheng, leaning against the counter as he talks to the redhead. He asks if he slept well, what he wants to do today, if there’s somewhere he wants to go to, if he wants anything particular for dinner later. Mo Guan Shan makes a comment that makes He Tian laugh but goes over He Cheng's head and he figures it must be an inside joke between them. 

There’s a kind of ease to it, the flow of their banter, the way they move around each other. He Tian certainly seems comfortable and at ease, the line of his back relaxed and lacking the usual tenseness of someone always ready to go on either the offense or defense. 

Mo Guan Shan mirrors the same ease as he puts down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast for He Tian, who turns his head to plant a kiss on his cheek in thanks. 

The whole thing makes He Cheng feel like a fucking interloper in his own goddamn kitchen. 

He Cheng looks at his brother with his own plate of scrambled eggs and Mo Guan Shan's mug of coffee, the one with cream and sugar he said he couldn't finish so He Tian would take it, and thinks it's the best life he could have ever hoped for him. 

“Wash the dishes when you're done,” Mo Guan Shan says as he scrolls through his phone.

He Tian looks at the sink and makes a face at the pan and other things Mo Guan Shan used to cook.

“Man, do I have to? This isn’t even my house. And there are maids for a reason.”

“Tch. Spoiled brat.” Mo Guan Shan lightly pinches a chewing He Tian’s cheek, bulging with food. “Exactly. This isn’t your house. You use them, you clean them.”

“Cheng ate, too,” he nods to where He Cheng is finishing up the last of his meal. “Why don’t you make him do his dishes?” he says with a smirk, thinking he’s on to something.

“He’s letting the four of us stay for the summer.” Mo Guan Shan takes He Cheng’s plate and the empty glass of juice when he sees he’s done and soaks them in the sink. “Here. In this house that he owns. In an island that is his. For free.” He sends He Tian a look that says, ‘need I say more?’.

“What are you talking about? I’m paying for our stay here you know.”

“Oh, really? With what? Sure as hell haven’t seen you so much as touch your wallet since we got on the boat.”

“My sanity.”

Mo Guan Shan’s hand flexes and for a moment, He Cheng thinks his brother is gonna be hit over the head with the frying pan. 

“Just,” the word is sighed through gritted teeth, “do the damn dishes. It’s not that hard.”

“Why don’t you do them then?”

“I already cooked, asshole. I ain't washin’ the dishes. 'sides, you're the last to finish eatin’ so you get to clean up. Them’s the rules.”

“Fine, but I'm only gonna wash mine,” He Tian declares, viciously biting on a chunk of toast.

“It's one plate and a mug, Tian,” Mo Guan Shan sighs sounding like he’s had this exact conversation a thousand times. “Don't be a little bitch and wash them all. Don't waste soap.”

“Baby, look around. We can afford the waste.”

Mo Guan Shan levels him a look which He Tian stares right back as he continues to chew. It goes on for maybe a minute or two. A standoff with just their eyes, willing the other to back down first. 

He Cheng doesn’t quite know what’s going on between the stare down and the silence, but He Tian is the first to look away with a groan. The one to concede first, apparently.

“Uuughhh! Fine! Fuck it! Fine! I'll do the damn dishes.”

“Yeah, as you should,” Mo Guan Shan quips looking satisfied with his victory. He Cheng marvels at how easy it is for him when getting He Tian to do anything, even if it's for his own good, has always been like pulling teeth. “I’m gonna go call my mom. There's more coffee in the pot. Creamer ran out, but there's milk in the fridge.”

“You know I only take my coffee black.”

Mo Guan Shan watches with a flat expression as He Tian sips ‘his’ coffee with cream and sugar. He catches He Cheng's eyes and shoots him a look that says, ‘are you seeing this shit?’ which He Tian doesn’t catch.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He doesn’t bother contesting. “There’s more toast in the bread box.”

“Buttered?”

“Butter it yourself, idiot,” Mo Guan Shan shoots back making a face at him. 

“Can’t even do that simple thing for me, babe? Really starting to doubt this relationship right now.”

“Good. You shouldn’t get too complacent anyway, dick head.” He hops out of his seat and swats at He Tian’s grabby hands. “Do the damn dishes or I swear to god you won’t have anything to doubt anymore.” 

He Cheng watches the exchange and feels like he’s in a sitcom. He thinks about how his initial plan to get a bottle of water has led to him being caught between his brother and his boyfriend play fighting, flirting, and the domesticity of it all. He thinks about asking Mo Guan Shan how he does that whole thing where he just stares at He Tian and makes him yield but figures it would only work if you're Mo Guan Shan. 

He remembers a time when He Tian lowered his pride. Impulsive, insolent, and desperate, he came crawling back to He Cheng and was even willing to go as far as becoming something he hates. All for the sake of some boy, some school friend, some little pet project that he picked up because he was bored that morphed into something else, something more.

Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care for another. He made He Tian care so much he was willing to make himself into a monster for Mo Guan Shan, but stopped him just in time from going the deep end and even made him more human. Hell, Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care about himself. And for all that, He Cheng is grateful.

"Thanks," he says as much and means more than just the best scrambled eggs he's had in a while, but Mo Guan Shan would never know it. "You really didn't have to." 

"Huh. Oh, uh, sure.” It catches Mo Guan Shan off-guard, halting him from leaving the kitchen. He looks a little sheepish as he says, “It's nothing, really. It's just…it’s just eggs."

He Cheng just hums and nods at him once in dismissal. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” He Tian shouts after Mo Guan Shan, who’s already rounded the corner and only shouts back, “Dishes!”

He Tian scowls but there’s no real heat in it. He even asks He Cheng if he wants the rest of the coffee, which he declines, when he stood up to get more toast before tucking back into his eggs.

He Cheng sees that He Tian is happy, thinks Mo Guan Shan brings out all the best in him, and hopes to all the gods he doesn't believe in that his brother don't ever fuck this one up. 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until He Tian asks, “What?” around a mouthful of toast. 

“Nothing,” He Cheng says as he finishes his coffee, and as he stands up he says, “Make sure you bring him along everytime you plan to come over. Otherwise, don’t come at all.” And just to spite him, he slides his empty mug closer to He Tian. “And make sure you do the damn dishes.”

He gets the desired effect. The glare his brother sent him is acrid and his next words make He Cheng want to laugh.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

“I didn’t. Mo Guan Shan did.”

“Whatever. Shut the fuck up.”

He Cheng just smirks and doesn’t hit him for his impertinence if only because He Tian grumbling, “I was gonna do them anyway” has already made his day.

Later, as He Cheng sits on his desk looking over his schedule, he sees that he has an appointment with their legal team. A thought strikes him and he scribbles a curt note at the margins and tells his secretary to summon the family lawyers too.

He might as well update the family registry.

--

edit: now posted on AO3! glad you guys like this piece. please leave kudos and comments there as well. thank you! :)

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part VI

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

VI. Sleeping Restfully

 Every time you wake during the night, Frank is clinging to you. With his heavy arm draped over your waist, or his head upon your breast. 

You don’t sleep well, but you hold him, savoring it while you can. And when the morning light starts gently creeping through the window, and you feel his morning wood enthusiastically pressing against your hip, you decide to give him something to remember you by. You burrow beneath the covers, taking his velvety tip between your lips. He makes a sound in his sleep, but does not wake.

After you take him deep into the back of your throat a few times, those mindless sounds shift to moans of appreciation. “Baby…” His voice is thick with sleep, his long fingers twist in your hair, half guiding you, half just holding on. “Fuck. So good.”

You slow down a little, now that you have his attention. You enjoy working his thick shaft with your lips and teeth and tongue–he tugs on you, urging you up, but you savor his beautiful dick just a little longer.

It hurts to think, it might be the last time.

“Please? Come up here…” He pulls on your shoulders, and after dislodging yourself with a pop you comply, emerging from under the duvet to straddle him. You are soaking wet, a fucking mess from your earlier activities and your little diversion now, your needy cunt swollen and ready as you grind against him.

You don’t say anything, just look into his big brown disbelieving eyes as you slowly impale yourself on his proud cock. You fuck him like that, making unapologetic eye contact until his thumb finds your clit, and you are lost in the madness that is his body inside yours–a part of you suspects you will never feel this good again. 

You cum with a sob, and he right with you, filling you with one last rush of that hot, luscious spend between your legs. You cling to each other as you ride out the aftershocks of your climaxes, soothing each other with kisses and soft panting in the bends of your necks.

It is the sweetest thing you’ve ever known.

You do not say a thing, as you pull back to look at him, taking in every little detail so you can imprint it upon your heart. It’s a face you wouldn’t mind seeing in the morning on a regular basis, but apparently that was not an option with this man.

He looks at you as though he is drowning, but he does not ask you to stay, as you tenderly kiss his forehead, and extricate yourself from him. You gather your clothes, not looking at him once, before you retreat back through the adjoining door to your room.

Only later do you realize you accidentally took his black t-shirt too. You press the fabric to your face, inhaling deeply. It smells wonderfully, heartbreakingly like him, and you stash it in your suitcase.

***

A part of you just wants to skip the stupid farewell brunch–but you’re hungry, and it’s free. You put on your last sundress, a beachy paisley print number, and descend downstairs on heavy legs.

You freeze in the lobby when you find Frank standing there– in one of his jeans and sport coat combos that for some reason crosses the wires in your brain–as though he’s waiting for you. It takes you a few long seconds to remember that you haven’t done anything wrong, and you don’t have to hide from him. 

It’s somewhat heartening, when you realize he feels just as awkward as you do. “Hey,” he says softly, holding up his hands, as though he can’t stop himself from reaching for you. The impulse is quickly quashed by him shoving said hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” you say just as softly, as though if you speak too loudly, you might break this fragile thing between you. 

“Can we…hang out? Until we get home, at least?”

The point in which he can safely ditch you at the airport, you can’t help but think. But you don’t want to fight. You can’t make this man want to see you again, after this weekend has gone. So you just nod, and you know he knows you’re not ok. You see it in his big soft eyes. For a self-proclaimed nihilist, this man is strangely empathetic. Perhaps because he spends his time over-analyzing everything, just to come to the same conclusion: everything is shit, and everyone is out to hurt him. 

You are so glad you’re already wearing your sunglasses–and that your mascara is waterproof.

You vaguely wonder what this big strapping man would do if you took him by the shoulders and shook him.

You walk to the hotel terrace together in silence. No one is more surprised than you, when he takes your hand under the table, though he won’t meet your eyes.

You are more than happy to share a ride back to the airport early. You decide you are ready for this weekend to be done. Monday can’t possibly  hurt any more than this.

On the plane, with one of the tiny complimentary bottles of regional red wine in you, you finally get up the courage to say something about all this. “You’re going to wish you’d embraced the miracle.” 

Frank, who wasn’t exactly relaxed sitting by you, lost in his thoughts, somehow stiffens even more.

“Please don’t do this now,” he pleads. “We are an hour away from parting as friends.” 

You shrug, suddenly, if not fatalistically, amused. “What’s it matter?” you ask. “If you never want to see me again?”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to see you again. I said it won’t happen, because that’s how these things go.”

“You don’t think that’s a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

“Just being a realist.”

“What if I, heaven forbid, took matters into my hands to prove you wrong?”

Somehow, this man manages to frown all while his mouth twitches, trying not to smile.

“I think I would be alarmed.”

“You’re saying that if I showed up in the lobby of J.D. Power with a boombox playing In Your Eyes you would send me away?”

“I wouldn’t have to. Security in the building would.”

“Hmm. They could try, but I’m pretty fast.” You slide him a conspiratorial grin, your bravado definitely lubricated by wine. “I outran a mountain lion one time, you know.” 

Now, he does smile with you, even if reluctantly. “I thought it was a lynx?”

“Basically the same thing…”

“Uh huh.” He looks down at you, and you don’t think you’re inventing the warmth of fondness in his gaze.

“You’re going to wish you embraced the miracle…” you urge him again, willing him to relent, just a little. 

“Y/n…” There is exasperation in that word, but also tenderness. It’s there, and it’s real, and you want to grab on to this man and not let go. Instead, you sit with your hands in your lap, dying inside as you force yourself to behave like an adult and not wail and kick and scream. 

“You're going to miss me.”

“Like a migraine.” He's grasping for insults. You can tell his heart isn't really in it now. 

“You're going to go back to your important job manipulating the hearts and minds of the American people, and you're going to say to yourself, 'Wow, I miss that girl who called me on all my shit.'”

The corner of his mouth twitches. 

“Because who doesn't like having their sanity challenged at every turn?”

“You're going to be so bored.”

“How will I live with myself? Alone, doing exactly what I want to do, exactly when I want to do it?” 

You go on like you didn’t hear him, “And you're going to say to yourself, 'I really have a hankering for an engraved rock. Maybe a full set of Live Laugh Love. And you'll come find my shop. The Salty Siren. Right on the beach. I won't even say ‘I told you so.’”

“That's not going to happen, y/n.” He says it gently, and you can almost taste the regret. 

You look away, that unbearable feeling brewing in your chest, that warm ball imploding on itself like a black hole, eating away at you. 

“Your loss.”

He is studiously looking out the window, his hand clenched in a fist on his knee. He says nothing in reply, and that is when you're certain the magic of the weekend is dead. That even if deep down he would like to give the two of you a chance–he’s too much of a coward to take the leap.

Don’t Say Goodbye 

“I know what you’re going to say,” you tease as you walk towards the taxi stand, trying to pretend like your bones are not leaden with dread of the moment in which you will truly have to say goodbye. “It’s not me, it’s you…”

“It’s definitely you,” he fires back with zero venom, a surprising softness in his eyes. When you sigh and roll your eyes he amends quietly, “It’s definitely me.”

He could have knocked you over with a feather when he offers a hug–and he is the last one to let go. “It was very nice to meet you, y/n.” Oh God. Why does he have to be amicable now? It makes it hurt twice as badly, than if he'd been an asshole. When he bows to you before opening your taxi door for you, loading in your bag, your heart lodges in your throat. Because this man knows how to act like a gentleman. He can be so sweet, when he wants to, and the thought that he thinks himself unloveable tears your heart in two. 

“Frank…”

You just stare at each other with the door of the taxi open, you half in the car.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks.

“I guess so.” Anything, to prolong the inevitable. 

“You dodged a bullet, not marrying Keith.”

“Ok.”

“But he was a fool to let you go.”

It almost would have felt better, if he’d stabbed you.

“Thanks.” 

And you just keep staring at each other, neither of you really ready to let go. It almost annoys you. Why? Why does it have to end this way? It makes you say with more than a little bravado you don’t really feel: 

“We're holding up the line, Frank. There are other people in the world.”

“There are?”

He looks at you with a sparkle in those beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and you feel yourself slipping down, falling the rest of the way on this already slippery slope, head over heels, in love with him. God, it's going to hurt when you hit the bottom. 

You shake your head, smiling through your tears. 

“Why couldn’t I have met you years ago?”

“Count your blessings, y/n.”

At the moment, you don’t feel blessed. You feel like the universe does in fact have it out for you.

“Goodbye, Frank.”

“Have a nice life, y/n.”

Fuck if he doesn't sound as miserable as you feel. 

It's him, who moves just a fraction, brushing your lips with his one last time. Those soft, kissable lips you'll never feel again. It's like your soul leaves your body, when he pulls away. You feel like a jar of poisonous butterflies is unleashed in your belly. And then, you have to sit down, because your knees won’t hold you, and he is gently shutting the door, and the taxi is pulling away, carrying you in the opposite direction from the most interesting man you’ve ever met. 

Determined to be brave one last time, you flip him off out the window as you drive away. Through a film of tears you look back, and see him looking after you wistfully, looking lost on the curb with his suitcase in hand. But he smiles to himself at your rude gesture, and you can just hear that grunt of reluctant mirth.

It adds a final twist to the knife that's lodged in your heart.

You cannot tell, if you are laughing, or crying, in the backseat of the taxi.

Tbc...

[breadbrioche]

kiss of life

so mun x reader

➳summary: you almost let your impulsive thoughts get to you while mun is asleep

➳warnings: really vague descriptions of a fight, sort of suggestive at the end but not really

➳word count: 1.5k

➳a/n: watch kim sejeong’s top or cliff music video here! My next work will be released when her music video reaches 1 million views

You can’t believe that this happened.

This seriously had to be on the top of the list of your major fuck ups because this really shouldn’t have happened. You cringe every time you think about it because you’re a counter! They were people who are supposed to protect others, and not get protected. But that’s exactly what happened.

It was a routine procedure; the evil spirit Hana sensed was fairly low leveled so only you and Mun were dispatched to deal with it. And it was going well but that was until another, stronger spirit appeared. You not considering that possibility was ultimately your downfall as you were completely focused on getting rid of the first one, not realising the other was approaching you from behind - and with a weapon.

The next moments were a jumble but you can recall Mun pushing you away, taking the blow himself. As he fell, the two evil spirits took the opportunity to run, leaving you with your teammate who was totally knocked out. Luckily, once you were back home, Ms Chu assured that there were no fatal injuries but you were still left with two evil spirits on the run and an unconscious Mun.

Watching him lay motionless in his bed, he almost looks like a sleeping princess rather than being the hero who just saved your life, as ironic as it is. He definitely looked the part too; even when he’s asleep So Mun is perfect. Especially with his silky hair, skin that all but glows when light shines on it and perfectly kissable lips.

You pause for a second. No way; there’s absolutely no way. You couldn’t kiss Mun, that would be insane! You shake your head vigorously, trying to get rid of such delusional thoughts. You couldn’t, you shouldn’t… but-

Betraying all your previous thoughts, you lean close to his face, hovering just inches away. So close that you could count every individual eyelash if you wanted to. Your eyes naturally wander to his mouth and observe how, with how lips are slightly parted, it looks as if he’s ready to receive a kiss. Only if you moved just a bit further, you would be able to-

Inhaling sharply, you clamp a hand over your mouth. You aren’t going to actually do it, reminding yourself. You’re just looking at him (and ignoring how you could’ve done that at a further, non-intimate distance). Panicking slightly, your eyes flicker back to Mun’s eyes to see if he’d caught you but to your relief, they were still closed.

Hearing your own frenzied heartbeat, you become acutely aware of your situation. Screw the incident from earlier, this was definitely the top spot on your list of major fuck ups. Even for you, this was a new all time low.

But before you could even think of what to do next, to your horror, Mun’s eyes flutter open and now you are literally face to face with the consequences of your actions. Fuck.

Mun called out your name confused, voice still rough after just waking up, which effectively snaps you out of your stupor as it causes you to fling yourself away from him instantly. A bit too fast as you lose your balance and tumble to the ground, landing on the hardwood floor with a thump.

In an instant, Mun leaps out of his bed and kneels down to assess you for injuries. He places a hand on your shoulder but you immediately push him away with a yelp - you couldn’t stand the thought of him touching you right now (if he did, your dumb brain would be too weak not stop yourself from imagining stupid delusions and you really can’t have that)

“Ah- uh- fuck, I’m sorry” you stumble, not really knowing what to say. “Just forget what you saw! I wasn’t actually gonna do anything, I promise!”

Mun’s eyebrows knit together while he pieces together what happened before he gasped, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

“Hold on, were you going to kiss me?!” he yells before you hastily covered his mouth, cringing at the volume. What if someone else heard? That would be double the embarrassment and this is already too much.

“Don’t be so loud!” You hiss. “And no, I was only looking!”

He manages to wrestle your hands off his face, staring at you with a look you didn’t want to comprehend

“But it looked like you were though!” He insists, but you grimace and shake your head violently.

“What, are you some kind of princess who needs a kiss of life to wake you up?”

Mun chuckles at your response and leans closer slightly. His gaze is inquisitive, like his eyes are scouring you for clues to your upcoming answers for his questions. Mun is smart, the son of detectives after all, so you’re deathly afraid of the fact that he’ll see how you’re swallowing nervously, avoiding his gaze and just so obviously flustered and make a correct observation.

“Would you ever do it? Kiss me, that is.” Mun asks, sounding casual like this was a normal conversation topic. You narrow your eyes at him - just what sort of game is he playing at? If he’s trying to make you jump to conclusions, it sure is working for him.

“…what are you trying to say?”

Sensing your hesitance, Mun clasps your hands firmly. They squeeze yours firmly; you didn’t want to assume but, it almost felt like he was reassuring you.

“Do you like me? Because I like you and I wouldn’t have minded if you had kissed me earlier.”

You freeze. No way; there’s absolutely no way. You’re done, it’s over. There was no way this could be real. You blink hard, half expecting yourself to be hallucinating this whole situation - maybe you were the one knocked out and this was a dream. But when you open your eyes and Mun is still there with his dorky grin and all, you almost gasp.

“This is real, right? Is the guy I’ve been crushing on for ages actually confessing to me?” You murmur your thoughts dumbly. Mun laughs, nodding his head.

“So does that mean we’re dating then? I- I mean I’d love to date you but- I know that sometimes when twopeopleinagroupstartdatingthatcancausegroupdynamicsto-“

You’re so caught up with the explosion of thoughts suddenly coming at you that you hardly notice Mun leaning even closer to you and closing the space between your faces until he physically shuts you up, lips firmly on yours. But before you could even reciprocate, he’s moving away and licking his lips.

“Sorry,” Mun half apologises with a cheeky grin. “You looked cute, I couldn’t help it!”

At this point, you’re sure your brain is fried. You purse your lips together to try and formulate a response but nothing comes to you. If one simple peck had you this speechless, So Mun was going to be the death of you.

Without thinking you reach for the collar of his shirt and tug, closing the distance between you and replacing your lips on his. If Mun is going to be your cause of death, you’ll die on your own terms.

It’s initially awkward, Mun mimicking you earlier by being stunned still, but eventually you feel him relax into the kiss and even urges you to deepen it by gently pressing a hand to the back of your neck. There’s a sense of urgency to it, the both of you desperate to show your repressed feelings.

When you pull apart, you feel breathless as the adrenaline courses through your body. Shivers down your spine as you feel Mun’s strong gaze; it’s not overpowering but it’s confident - he knows what he wants (he wants you). Mun inches closer to kiss you again but before he could, your hand on his chest keeps him from moving.

“W-wait,” you huff between breaths. “Are you feeling okay? You were knocked out for a while.”

He rolls his eyes playfully with a huff; only you would stop an intimate moment just to ask about his well being.

“I’m awake now, aren’t I? I’m totally fine.” He assures you. “But there is one thing that still hurts a bit…”

Your eyes widen with concern, flickering over Mun’s body to find any hidden injuries. However, your concern is wasted when he just points at his lips which are curled into a sly smirk.

“Can you kiss it better?”

Letting out a disgusted scoff, you try to swat his face away from you but he catches your hands and makes you look at him. Mun silently pleads to you, putting on his best puppy dog eyes at you. You sigh, not having much of a choice right now.

“You’re so cheesy, you know that right?” You say before your lips meet Mun’s once again, starting like you never stopped in the first place.

[mavrintarou]

[3:45PM] Suna Rintarou (prequel of DD) [3]

I started a part-time job so my writing and posting will slow down tremendously. Hopefully, I'll get inspired lol. If you are new, this is the 3 part, please go back and read the initial post, and prequel - parts 1, and 2. You can find those chapters here

Warning: none, angst/hurt & leading to comfort Note: There is a time jump, hopefully, I don't confuse you guys

Prequel (part 2)

.

Rin realized he found himself watching Y/n sleep more often than usual. He never understood romantic films where the man watches the girl sleep, often thinking how creepy they were.

He didn’t care that at the moment he was doing the same thing, watching Y/n sleep like a little creeper. All that mattered to him was seeing Y/n asleep beside him safe and sound.

Rin still could not believe the wild roller coaster he and about 300 other passengers went through less than 72 hours ago.

It was one thing to be surprised to discover that Y/n was the pilot of the plane he was flying to Thailand for a tournament.

Four months ago, he would have waved at her like a hopeless romance and shown everyone they were lovers.

But it has been four months since Rintarou broke everything off with Y/n.

Everything has been a mess since that day and nothing was going right.

With each ticking second his conscience questions whether he made the right decision. Was it impulsive or was he right?

All he wanted was to make them official, he wanted the right to call her his girlfriend and show her off. He also wanted her to take him home to her place.

He wanted a home with her.

But he got the sense she didn’t want to share much of her life with him. 

He began questioning her about when she would cancel plans or tell him she would no longer be coming home that day and be gone for days on end without communication.

He respected her busy career and work schedule, but he couldn’t help but feel left out of her life.

They had been seeing each other for almost four months, he was ready for the next phase and thought they were both on the same page.

When he initiated and asked her to be his girlfriend, she did not consider his request, immediately turning him down.

“I’m sorry… I can’t… I thought you understood, Rin?”

Like a light switch, anger consumed him. He threw the comforters off and stalked naked around his room to search for his boxers. “Understood?” he mimicked her tone, he wiped towards her with hurt and pain written on his face. “What is there to understand when you don’t tell me anything?”

“What do you mean? I tell you when I’m done with work, I make time on my off days to meet with you. What is it, Rin? What is it that you want?” Y/n kept her voice leveled, not wanting to meet his energy.

“I want you!” he shouted, throwing his hands up, “I want you to be mine, Y/n.” He inhaled sharply, “I want everything there is out there to want. I want to know where you are at all times because I can’t help but be anxious you might be with someone else when you are not with me. I want to know what you are thinking about and if I even cross your mind at all because you are always on mine. I want to tell every damn hot-blooded male out there you are mine, fuck – even the women too because you’re fucken amazing.” His breath shook as he slowly took a deep breath. “I want to not have this terrible feeling that I’m not good enough for you…” he choked, “I feel like I’m being childish, wanting you to only look my way, wanting you to only want me… want you in every way possible. But I feel like it’s one-sided…”

He felt foolish pouring out his childish feelings. He couldn’t even look at her at this point.

To make matters worse, Y/n hadn’t spoken a word. She had not attempted at all to assure him that she too wanted him.

“I think we should end this, it is obvious you do not feel the same way for me,” he muttered, “please see your way out.” He turned his heels and headed straight to his bathroom.

When he came out after a hot bath almost an hour later, she was gone, every trace of her gone.

He stared out the air plane window, zoning out until something was held in front of him, a paper bag.

“Our captain has asked me to deliver this to you.” The young flight attendants informed with a smile.

Rin accepted it and opened the bag.

It was snacks he and Y/n enjoyed eating together. At the bottom of the bag was a piece of paper inside.

I hope you have been well.

He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He missed her dearly.

Reaching for his bag, he began searching for stuff he could give back to Y/n. “Excuse me,” he called the flight attendant, “do you have pen and paper?” She returned with the items he requested.

As he was about to signal the flight attendant again, the plane suddenly jerked and trembled violently before it suddenly veering sharply to the left, causing standing passengers to lose their balance.

Y/n’s voice came over the intercom with a vague announcement, immediately ordering all passengers to fasten their seatbelts.

Rin could not mistake the uneasiness in her tone and nor did he miss the looks on the flight attendants' faces as they quickly shuffled around, making sure all passengers followed the announcement.  

Quickly fastening his seatbelt, unknowingly holding his breath.

Talk to me Y/n, Rin silently prayed to himself.

No one could have anticipated encountering a situation typically happening only in films. The lights inside the plane started flickering, and the aircraft continued to sway as if struggling to remain airborne. This prompts passengers to demand an explanation.

Rin looked down at his watch and began counting.

It was the longest five minutes of his life before he heard Y/n’s voice.

“This is your pilot Y/n, we will be making an emergency landing shortly here in Singapore, please remain seated and keep your seat belt fastened until further notice.”

Thirty minutes later, the plane landed on the tarmac and moved towards the many flashing vehicles.

At last, an announcement was made, except this time it was not Y/n’s voice. “This is your co-captain speaking, I sincerely apologize for the sudden change and inconvenience. There has been an emergency medical situation and I ask everyone to please remain seated until further notice. Another announcement will be made as soon as you can exit the aircraft, there will be gate agents ready to assist and get you on the next flight to Thailand.”

Outside of the aircraft ambulances and other medical services were waiting outside.

Rin’s eyes widen as he catches a glimpse of Y/n rushing alongside the stretcher that is being hauled into an ambulance.

.

Rin and his team boarded the next flight to Thailand. His mind remained clouded and hazy as he awaited Y/n’s text response, any response from her. During the game, he found himself sidelined for most of it, as his coached noticed his lack of mental focus. The moment EJP Raijin was declared champions, Rin rushed to the locker room to check his phone.

He has never been so relieved to see her name on his screen.

I’m in Thailand at XXX Hotel. Dinner?

.

“Usually, on long flights lasting 6 hours or more, there are three pilots, but this time, there were four due to the larger aircraft. It was my co-pilot’s and my turn to swap and rest. Thirty minutes after falling asleep, I heard him call my name, gasping that he was experiencing chest pains,” Y/n recounted, rubbing her face with her hand as she relived the moment. “He was having a cardiac arrest,” Y/n pushed the food on her plate around, not having much of an appetite. She described how she administered CPR to her colleague while simultaneously giving commands to the other pilot to request an emergency landing. “An as if that wasn’t challenging enough, we flew into a flock of birds that caused one of our engines to blow out,” Y/n explained, her expression reflecting extreme fatigue as she recount the situation on the plane. “The plane got out of control so I had to quickly switch and gain control in the air until we landed in Singapore.” She smiled tiredly at Rin, “he’s okay if you’re wondering.”

“That’s good, but are you okay?” Rin cared more for her well-being than the others. He too lost his appetite, pushing his food around. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m just… exhausted. It’s been a long four months…” she tightened her fingers around his. “Long four months of training and… without you.”

Rin could only maintain eye contact with her in silence before softly inquiring, “what are you trying to say…?”

“I’m saying that I have missed you, Rintarou. I have missed you every single day,” Y/n answered earnestly.

A deep sigh escaped from his lips, as though he had been holding it in for quite some time before they curved into a smile. “I missed you too,” he admitted.

.

In the brief period he’s known her, she has consistently been a sound sleeper, likely due to her hectic work routine.

But at this moment, he could tell she was deeply asleep as she didn’t stir when he shifted himself so he could hold her. His heart rate eased as she nestled closer into his warmth. The tip of her nose pressed lightly against his nipple, erecting his nub as she unconsciously rubbed against it.

He hist softly, cursing silently in his head. Counting backward from one hundred, he distracts his mind with other thoughts to distract himself.

He found it hard to grasp the reality of her presence beside him. After dinner, there was no way he was going to part from her.

He held on to the end of her shirt like a lost puppy, “stay with me.”

Y/n reached for his hand, holding it tightly, “I’m so tired, I’m ready to fall asleep on my feet.”

“Your place or mine, I don’t care, your call.” Rin stepped closer and cupped her cheek, “I just want to be wherever you are.”

They came back to hers. Rin noticed her small luggage and a handful of her belongings spread out on the desk.

Y/n began stripping her clothes off, leaving only her panties and sports bra on. Rin could feel his face heat up as he turned away.

“I’m just getting comfortable, don’t worry I won’t take advantage of you,” she teased, slipping into the bed. “Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to get in?”

He stripped down to his boxers briefs and slipped in, he might as well get comfortable with her too.

“Are you afraid I’ll bite you? Why are you so far away from me? Are you lying about missing me?”

Y/n was tugged into Rin’s arm as they tightly locked around her. “I would lie about many things but missing you isn’t one of them.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, “sleep, you can barely keep your eyes open.”

“Rin.”

He hummed watching her close her eyes before she whispered, “I like you.”

Minutes later, her breathing steadied, and she relaxed in his embrace. Rin couldn’t pinpoint when he started noticing the small intricacies about her. Like the tiny beauty mark at the outer corner of her left eye, or how her green eyes occasionally shifted to yellow in the sunlight. He observed how her eyes crinkled when she smiled widely and how she would quickly use a hand to cover her smile. He longed to reach out and smooth the wrinkles on her forehead when she was deeply focused on something.

He found himself missing her every second of the day whenever she wasn’t by his side, and every little thing seemed to remind him of her. Whether it was spotting someone with the same shade of green eyes or hearing or seeing an airplane in the sky, thoughts of Y/n would flood his mind.

Every little thing about Y/n came down to one thing, he was hopelessly in love with her.

.

For the past five minutes, Y/n had been observing the man sleeping beside her. She couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes and how he seemed to have lost weight, his cheeks appearing sunken.

She had noticed her weight loss and general disinterest since their fallout, believing she was the only one suffering. As her fingers lightly brushed his bangs aside, she pondered whether he, too, might have been enduring similar struggles.

After she left his place that day, regret weighed heavily in her heart ever since. She has never felt rejected and hurt as much as Rin telling her to leave his place.

She distracted herself with work, taking on additional shifts until one day she was greeted by someone she least expected, her old boss, the Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Specialty Force.

“We need you to come back,” was the first thing he said. “We have a project and you are the only one who can lead it and carry it out.”

Pursuing aviation had always been Y/n’s passion and dream, so joining the military straight out of school seemed like the optimal choice for her. In a sense, she was achieving two goals at once: pursuing her passion while also upholding the long-standing family tradition of military service spanning decades.  

A year ago, she would have eagerly accepted the mission, always eager for a fresh challenge. But now, she found herself struggling to find her voice. Accepting the mission meant being away for an extended period – ranging from at least six months to two years or more.

Y/n couldn’t understand why she was hesitating.

A part of her was her pride.

She is reminded of a painful past incident that had her dismissed with an uncharacterized discharge. After she returned to the civilian world, she was pulled into commercial aviation to maintain a part of her passion.

But that wasn’t it either.

At last, Rin’s face came to her mind.

Everything has changed since she met Rin.  

He was only meant to be a distraction. Their relationship was never meant to have gone this far or deep.

She wasn’t supposed to care for him, let alone, formed a bond with him.

Her time in the military and her specialized field compelled her to prioritize her duty over settling down, understanding that investing in something that might only lead to heartbreak was not in her best interest. Even in her current time, she was always on the go, never settling in one spot for long, she was convinced a relationship wouldn’t survive if one partner was always gone.

This is why she steered clear of committing to a relationship or remaining attached to someone for an extended duration.

Y/n had refused to acknowledge her feelings for Rintarou. She viewed their interactions as mere entertainment whenever she was back at home. She enjoyed his pursuit and the undivided attention he gave her. She has never had anyone give her as much attention as Rin had. At first, she believed it was because he was younger than her and was infatuated with the thought of chasing and finding interest in an older woman.

However, as they spent more time together, the hours slipping by unnoticed, she gradually found herself caving into him, basking in the warmth of his arms and feeling her heart beat in sync with his.

She had never yearned for someone’s company as intensely as she did for his. Simply being in his presence was sufficient to make her feel at ease and rejuvenate. He filled a void in her life that she hadn’t realized existed.

Her heart and mind started yearning for every detail about him. In a crowded place, she’d catch a glimpse of men similar in height, instantly reminded of him. The sight of the color yellow would remind her of his eyes that glowed whenever they locked with hers. She began following his volleyball team to stay on top of updates about him and his professional life.

She thought she was the only one who was feeling these aftereffects.

Therefore, it was a hasty choice on her part to accept the mission, driven by the desire to distract herself from him and put physical distance between them.

She was simply a coward who was hopelessly in love with him.

. . .

E/n: I'm happy to explain anything you might be confused about, or hopefully my next part will explain/answer it.

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[lauralot89]

One Perfect Moment

Griffith is quite possibly the greatest villain of all time, and also the most misunderstood.

This is not to say he's done nothing wrong. He's done Everything wrong. He's done it so wrong that the wrongness is visible from space, and he did much of the Wrong well before he joined the God Hand. But somehow the common fandom view has become that he's a cold calculating monster well before the Eclipse, who doesn't care who or what he sacrifices in pursuit of his dream.

In actuality, everything the man does is driven by his emotions and especially his affection. He loves Guts too much to let him leave without a fight, he can't handle his sorrow on his own so he goes to Princess Charlotte, and when he's caught with the princess he can't get away because his sword is broken from the stupid impulsive fight he had rather than just telling Guts his feelings. Even the suicide attempt that started the Eclipse was a result of him having an emotional breakdown from overhearing Guts and Casca.

But this? This right here, when we see Griffith tearing his skin off in shame and self-loathing after he prostituted himself to a child predator because he personally felt responsible for a little boy's death? This is everything.

All you need to know to figure out what will happen to Griffith and the Band of the Hawk is this scene. It neatly lays out everything to come.

There is no war without death. There is no throne without blood spilled. And that may be logical, but contrary to popular interpretation, Griffith only acts like he's driven by logic. He's not. He's debased himself to the point that self-mutilation is the only way he can stand his own skin, all for the purpose of staving off the inevitable as long as possible.

And then he reaches a point where he's literally unable to debase himself further.

After losing the ability to walk, to hold anything, to speak, after losing skin and half his face and having his body violated in every imaginable way, including the most obvious ("like we were husband and wife"), there's nothing left for him give of himself, and his dream is still out of reach.

and then a bunch of demons show up when the man is out of his mind from a year of torture and isolation, and tell him he's a spoiled child playing with his friends' corpses and their suffering is for nothing if he doesn't kill everyone else and take the throne:

[Shredding his skin]: "I have neither regret nor remorse about that."

[Sacrificing everyone]: "I can't apologize. No, I won't apologize!"

if it helps you sleep at night, Griffith

They're both acts motivated by guilt from the pain he caused those who placed their faith in him, and the second one wouldn't hit so hard if not for the first. It's SO good and yes, he's a bastard, but he's not the heartless conniving bastard he's painted to be.

Perfect moment, no notes.

[as an aside I just realized when getting these images that directly before the Eclipse begins Griffith is mentally begging Guts not to touch him because he can't make stupid self-destructive choices when Guts is there and then he doesn't make the decision to join the God Hand until he can't hold onto Guts so they aren't touching anymore, amazing work]

[diazfightclub]

everything rots in the sun (i don't wanna be someone)

7x10 coda // pre-buddie, minor-bucktommy // T // 5.8k

i spent way too long on this, but it's finally done! my coda for the finale where i give eddie the breakdown i feel like he deserves!! here's the first ~1.6k words

Eddie watches Christopher leave and it feels like the world ends. 

It’s not the first time he’s had the thought; the world felt like it was ending when he was dying in Afghanistan, and then again as he watched Shannon die in the back of an ambulance with Chimney, and then again when he was sniped in broad daylight in the middle of a Los Angeles street.

His world ended in the moment Buck confessed to him, devastated and grief-stricken, that he had lost Christopher in the tsunami. The world restarted seven seconds later when Chris called out to him, safe.

Now, though, he watches Christopher leave of his own accord. He’s packed his own bag, called his own ride, made his own plans to leave Eddie behind, and Eddie’s world ends with the soft click of a door being shut.

The door closes, and Eddie is left alone with Buck. 

It starts in his fingers, the numbness. He’s distantly aware that his hands are still fisted by his side where he left them — he had wanted to reach for Chris as he left, but Chris wouldn’t have wanted that, so Eddie had stopped, kept his hands to himself, had held them tightly against his own body, hands clenched. 

He can’t feel them now. He tries to make a tighter fist, but the sting from his fingernails in his palms is gone. The whole of his limbs, from fingertips shoulders, toes to hips — everything is senseless, like his body has gone to sleep without his permission. 

The house is too quiet.

He’s not sure how he’s still standing, if he’s being honest. He can’t feel his legs, but he knows they're working, because he’s still upright, somehow. They’re not even shaking. 

He stands there, and Eddie — just… exists.

It’s a new kind of breakdown, not the fast-paced, red-hot impulsivity that used to overwhelm him and cause him to put his fists to whatever or whoever he could get his hands on. He doesn’t feel like yelling or breaking things, right now.

He doesn’t feel like doing much of anything at all. 

It’s like he collapses inwards. Everything slows down, like an old music box with a dying battery, the song slow and haunted and out of tune, the dancer moving stilted and janky before stuttering to a complete stop. 

The only thing he feels at all is Buck’s grounding hand on his shoulder. His thumb swipes a steady rhythm, back and forth, back and forth, and Eddie tries to focus on it, tries to breathe in sync with it, but he’s just so tired.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there staring at the door before he moves. It could be seconds, it could be hours, but his joints crack with the decades of aging he does in that time, the rust settled in deep. He turns to Buck, but he can’t lift his gaze from where he was staring at the door knob, so he ends up looking at Buck’s waist. The bottom button of his shirt is undone. 

“Thank you for being here,” he says, and it’s shocking his voice works at all considering the sizable lump in his throat, the space in his chest. He feels his own words echo inside of him. “I appreciate you, y’know, talking to him. Trying.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Buck squeezes his shoulder. He can feel the pressure but none of the warmth from Buck’s hand. “Of course I would be here, I—I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“You did,” he says, and he thinks he means it. Because with Buck there, his parents were on their best behavior, didn’t roll their eyes or raise their voices. There were no snide remarks under their breath or backhanded statements meant to cut him down. 

No, Buck being there meant they smiled and tried to sound reasonable as they took his son away, like they were saving him from Eddie, rescuing him, protecting him. 

But maybe — maybe it’s worse, that way, the way they were acting calm and concerned, swooping in to finally collect what they wanted all along: a son to raise who wouldn’t fuck up as much as Eddie did. Christopher is their second chance at getting it right. 

Maybe if Buck hadn’t been there, they would’ve gotten nasty, and Eddie would’ve reacted more strongly, fought for Chris the way he wanted to. Maybe he could’ve changed Chris’ mind about leaving him behind. Maybe Chris could’ve been convinced to stay if he saw their true colors, if he saw how much Eddie would fight for him, if he saw how sorry he was, how much he wanted him to stay. 

Or maybe it would’ve driven an even bigger wedge between the two of them. Eddie would never know. 

“I did the right thing, right?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

He didn’t know how much he needed the reassurance until he felt Buck hesitate. “Eddie…”

“Did I?” He meets Buck’s eyes, then, sees his own pain and sorrow and grief reflected back at him. “Would you have done it? Would you have let your son live with your parents if he wanted to get away from you?” 

Buck doesn’t say anything for a long while. “I don’t know.”

“Buck.”

Buck sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “If I were you, and I had a kid, and my parents were my parents, the parents I grew up with… no, I wouldn't let them take him,” Buck admits like it pains him. Eddie’s face falls, and Buck frantically rushes to explain. “But Eddie, my parents were neglectful, and they never cared about me or Maddie. Even now, with Jee-Yun, it's all—all performative. They send Christmas cards and facetime once a month to check-in, but they haven’t changed, not really, they don’t really care about us. But yours—”

Eddie pulls out of his grip, steps back and away, out of his reach. 

“They seem to be trying,” Buck shrugs helplessly, and Eddie feels — cavernous. He takes another step until he’s practically in the kitchen, leaving Buck by the couch. 

“Okay,” he says.

“I know they hurt you, growing up, I’m not trying to minimize that, or dismiss it,” Buck says with his hands out, like Eddie is some animal he’s trying not to spook. “I just meant that — you listened to what Chris wanted, and he wanted to be with them. I think that, listening to him the way you did, that was the right thing to do, and, y’know, maybe it’s not the best place for him to be long-term, but right now it’s just for the summer. He’ll be safe there, with them.”

Buck probably doesn’t mean it, probably didn’t think it, but all Eddie can hear is the implied he wasn’t safe here with you. 

He didn’t think anything else could hurt him today, but Buck taking his parents' side does it. The words settle over the numbness of his skin, seeping in until he feels the ache in his bones. 

“Okay,” he says again, because — he agrees, Chris wasn’t safe here. Eddie hurt him by letting Kim in, by entertaining her at all. He should’ve left her alone and not gone back to that store. He should’ve talked to someone, Buck or Bobby or, hell, he should’ve gone to church, confessed to a priest, begged to be absolved of whatever had a hold on him, asked for guidance. 

“You did what you could,” Buck insists, but all Eddie knows is that his best wasn’t good enough. 

Eddie wasn’t good enough. Christopher left.

Maybe Buck is right. Maybe Christopher is better off with his parents because they’re better people than Eddie. He should listen to Buck — they’re doing their best. They go to church regularly. They try to make amends. They confess and they repent and they pray. 

Maybe that’s why they were acting so nice, so charitable. Maybe God told them to be, and He rewarded them by giving them what they wanted: Christopher. 

The idea strikes him like lightning. 

Eddie finds himself walking to his bedroom without a second thought. He finds Bobby’s prayer book where he left it on his nightstand. 

The black leather cover is cool to the touch, and he can feel it, numbness receding into a steady buzz, an undercurrent just beneath his skin. He runs his fingertips across the ridges in the leather and he can feel every one, regaining sensation in his hand with every pass. He holds it tight and it feels like a lifeline. He takes the first deep breath he’s taken in hours.

Buck watches him from where he’s stood in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“This is how I’m going to get Christopher back.” Eddie holds the black book up. 

Buck’s brows are furrowed. “I… I’m not sure I follow.”

“I just have to be—” better, he almost says. Good. 

It’s obvious he’s being punished for something, and he owes it to Christopher to fix it. 

Because that’s what Christopher deserves, someone who tries to be good, to be holy and righteous the way his parents are. Eddie can’t remember the last time they went to church, knows that there had been one hard morning where Christopher hadn’t wanted to wake up and Eddie, frankly, didn’t want to sit through mass either, so he let them sleep in and miss it, and he told himself it would be just the one time, but then one week became three and then two months had gone by and they had settled into a new routine involving waffles and Buck and the Sunday crossword. 

But Christopher deserved better than that, as evidenced by the fact that his parents had him now. 

It isn't his fault, really, it's — cosmic. 

“I need to be a better person,” he says at last.

(continue reading on ao3)

[lou-struck]

Lap of Luxury

Atsumu Miya x Reader

~Atsumu is known for making impulse purchases to spoil you, sometimes though you need a reminder that you deserve it.

Warnings: Slightly suggestive at the end, alcohol use.

The moment your boyfriend was handed his first check as a professional athlete, you saw the way his eyes widened when he glanced at the number. He was expecting us to get paid a lot, but he didn’t realize that he was making that much.

That night, he took it upon himself to take you to the nicest restaurant he could think of. The kind of place where there were no prices on the menus. Not that it mattered to him, this was his way of thanking you for being there for him every step of the way.

You don’t remember much from that night, top shelf liquor and fine wine has a way of messing with the head. But you remember that when the check came your boyfriend signed without even checking the total. On top of the bill, he left an extremely generous check for your waiter.

It was so much fun, and you know your boyfriend likes to spoil you. Treating you to dinners like that more often than not.

Sometimes, you wonder if you deserve to be spoiled like this at all.

~

Atsumu Miya has never been very good at keeping secrets. His poker face is terrible and he just can’t help wanting to tell you about his surprises prematurely. So he can see the cute look of surprise on your face firsthand instead of waiting.

It all started around lunchtime, with you at work and Atsumu resting at home on an off day from the Black Jackals.

You’re sitting in your chair digging a fork into a ridiculously tasty chicken Caesar salad bowl. Just as you’re about to take a bite, Your phone dings.

And dings again…

And again…

With a huff, you place your perfect bite back into your bowl to see who is blowing up your phone. The Kissy faced emojis next to your boyfriend's contact image pops up on your screen.

Hey, baby guess what?

When ya get home I have a surprise! A good one too!

Don’t ask what it is though...

I love ya, Baby.

Scrolling through the messages a smile stretched across your face. You respond and get back to work hoping to get off as quickly as possible to find out what exactly your boyfriend has done this time.

You hope it isn't anything too crazy.

~

Your workday dragged on forever. As soon as your lunch break was over, you were bombarded with all sorts of tasks that kept you so busy, it knocked the thought of Atsumu’s surprise from your head.

By the time you walk through your front door, it’s late. An optimist may call it early the next day. But either way, it’s after midnight. When you see your boyfriend curled up on the couch with only a decorative pillow to keep him warm, your heart breaks a bit.

He chose to wait out here for you despite your texts saying that you would be late.

Closing the door as quietly as you can you make your way across the room to where he’s resting. His blonde hair is ruffled revealing the brown roots below and he drools on another one of your pillows.

As cute as he looks like this, you know that he would rather sleep in the comfort of your bed. He’ll feel a lot better for it in the morning if you wake him up now.

“Hey Tsumu, wake up.” You coax bending down and giving his forehead a little kiss.

Add the contact He stirs and blinks up at you sleepily. “Hey Baby.” He mumbles in a raspy voice. “Yer home late.”

“I know,” you say “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“It’s m-kay,” he says grabbing your hand and giving it a little squeeze. “I gotta show you yer surprise tomorrow.”

Right, the surprise. With everything that happened at work, you forgot about it. You glance around the room not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

“Yea, that sound like a good idea. You say with a yawn. “But we should go to bed.”

“That's… good.” he slurs allowing you to pull him to his feet. “Makes more sense actually.” He wraps his muscles weight around you like a blanket as you practically drag the two of you towards the bedroom so you can get some much-needed sleep.

~

Normally you wake up with Atsumu clinging to you like a koala on a eucalyptus tree, but by the time you blink awake, your boyfriend's side of the bed is cold.

The lack of warmth makes it all too easy to roll out of bed to find out where he has gone off to.

From the living room window, you see what looks like smoke coming from the backyard.

Is there a fire?

Worriedly, you rush out to see where the smoke is coming from. As soon as you open the door you hear a soft humming sound. Turning the corner you see that there was no fire, and there was no smoke. What you saw was steam.

Steam coming from the hot tub that your boyfriend is currently lounging in.

A hot tub that was definitely not there yesterday…

“So?” Your boyfriend asks sipping on a Mimosa.

“Atsumu Miya, did you seriously go out, by, and set up a hot tub yesterday?”

“ I got it for us,“ he smiles “I got some champagne too!”

“But, isn’t this expensive?” You ask looking at all of the jets, and water features. 

“When yer with me, ya sit in the lap of luxury.” He grins holding out a flute of fizzy champagne towards you. The steam from the hot tub clouds the glass but the drink does look refreshing. 

When you don’t immediately reach for the drink, there’s a look akin to panic that flashes in his eyes. “Do-do ya like it?” He asks nervously. 

The damn brakes and you laugh out loud. “ of course I like it, this is awesome.“

“I’m glad! I knew you’d love it.” He says Splashing out of the water towards you, the warm water sprinkling your pajamas, but you hardly care.

“ I saw how much you liked the hot tub when we stayed at that Air B&B a while back. You deserve nice stuff,” he says leaning over the edge to kiss you. His lips taste like orange juice and champagne, but you know that it’s not the alcohol talking.

“I love you so much.” You murmur

“If you love me, then how about you get in here with me?” He winks playfully at you. 

“If I have to,” you tease giving him a quick kiss and turning around to change.

“Where are you going?“ he says trying to grab your wrist. “ you can go in like that, if you’re worried about your pajamas just take them off.”

Your hand hits the water and splashes him playfully. “We have neighbors Tsumu.” you giggle running into the house to get changed.

[wuxiaphoenix]

On Writing: Clearing Mental Underbrush

Sometimes when you get stuck on your writing, it’s because of stress. Make that more of an “often”, actually....

So how do you get unstuck?

In some cases the answer is (relatively) simple. You need more sleep. You need more alone time. You need more quiet sitting with the research books, and/or a space you can play your own music in so you can forget the rest of the world for a while.

How you get those may be - ahem - complicated. Blackout curtains are a thing. Making sure you switch off the TV, computer, or other monitor screens earlier in the evening is a thing. Laying down the law to your roommate that no, you can’t give them another hour out of your day to watch a TV show because you have a headache and would be really bad company is a thing.

I do advise against committing felonies for peace and quiet. I understand the impulse, believe me, but I hear prison food sucks and is not set up for people with multiple food allergies. Also the roommates are likely worse. Probably.

Other times the answer is more complicated. Stress is often a multi-factored thing that’s accumulated over time, and yanking one stressor out of the pile may not be enough. Still, it’s a place to start.

Look at anything coming up that has a deadline. Taxes, for example, are a major ARGH at this time of year. Especially if you have any self-employed income coming in, and that means most of us creative types. The anticipated stress of doing the taxes can knot your brain up so bad it’s worth taking a day of precious free time to sit down and rough the numbers out as soon as you’ve got them all.

(If you’re a writer getting royalties for the first time last year: 1040, Schedule 1, Schedule 2, Schedule C, Schedule SE, and likely the 1040-V. Yes you need them all. Yes you are going to be bouncing between them like a pinball. Yes it sucks. Especially seeing how large a chunk gets hoovered out.)

Another thing to look at is anything you know you need to get done, but aren’t sure how to do. Anything from an unfamiliar cleaning project (wax car how?) to cooking for a party (how much? Of what?) to interacting with new people - official or otherwise. In this case see if you can grab scratch paper and break the big task into smaller chunks, each of which you can research. Sometimes just the breaking-into-smaller-bites is enough to take the stress off.

And one final thing that gets a lot of creative types is the Pile of Unfinished Works.

Yeah, this is the scary one. As in, “I want to hide under the blankets, noooo!”

I don’t have really good suggestions for this one outside of, try to organize it. And have it somewhere you can pull it out and look at it if (and only if!) you want to. Do not have the folder/beads/stringcraft/whatever where you have to face it every day. That doesn’t work. All it does is intimidate the bunnies into running shrieking away, carrying all your joy and other ideas with them.

Have it where you can sneak up on it, if something occurs to you that will let you finish one off. Or at least get it Done Enough that you can declare it over. Otherwise, try not to think about it. Sometimes a creative project just doesn’t work. Focus on what does.

Then, with enough of the mental underbrush cleared, the writing will come back.

....And probably drag you away like a muse-stampede leaving you battered and bloody, but with words. Heh.

[outoutdamnspark]

So a lot of people headcanon Ingo and Emmet as autistic and/or as having ADHD, and I absolutely love that. I love it. Hell yes, give me the neurodivergent scrunklies. But you know what I haven’t seen yet? (And this doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist somewhere, just that i haven’t come across it.)

Manic-Depressive Bipolar Ingo and Emmet.

(CW: depictions of mania and depression under the cut)

Give me Emmet in the midst of a manic episode, constantly jittery and stimming almost uncontrollably. He impulse buys, losing an entire paycheck to model train kits that don’t get finished, fancy bows for his joltiks because he’s suddenly taken an interest in pokemon glamor out of seemingly nowhere that will leave him in a week.

Give me Emmet who hyperfocuses on battle strategies, getting so excited to implement a new one but his brain is going at top speed, thoughts racing faster than his mouth can form words, so he barely gets halfway through testing one idea out before he’s working on a new one - and it keeps. Happening. To the point where he has twenty new strategies but can’t get them out of his head in time and he gets overwhelmed and burnt out. So none of them wind up getting used.

Give me Emmet who then swings downward, frustrated and depressed that he can’t get his brain to let him finish a project or stick with a hobby, who hates that nothing brings him joy right now, that he can’t focus on anything or take interest in any of the stuff he usually does. Alternatively, he can only focus on one thing, and it consumes his time, his thoughts, his energy, and no matter what he does he can’t make himself do something else, no matter how much he wants to and he hates that it’s happening so. Fucking. Much.

He stays up late working on this thing he can’t pull himself away from, hating that he’s essentially now addicted to it but at the same time diving further in because it’s the only thing that makes him feel anything at all - and then feeling like shit the next day because the hyperfixation insomnia has destroyed his sleep schedule. On his days off he can’t get out of bed, watching videos on his phone because he feels E M P T Y, and the executive dysfunction and depression make him blind to time and physically unable to pull himself out from under the covers.

Give me manic Ingo having trouble completing tasks because he just can’t seem to put his thoughts and actions into the right order. He tries to get ready in the morning but keeps starting and aborting things because he can’t get the routine right. He goes to start coffee but while reaching for the filters he pulls the pokechow out of the cabinet instead because he needs to feed their teams and he might as well get everything down while he’s got the cabinet open. So he goes to feed the pokemon but does it in a sporadic order, different from usual, going out of turn instead of down the line, and it confuses him so much that he keeps turning to fill the next bowl but it’s already full? So he turns back to the ones he’s already done - or should have already done - and has to start all over and stare at each bowl to try and get his brain to recognize which are full and which aren’t. It takes him ten minutes longer than it normally does, and by the time he’s managed to feed their teams, he still hasn’t made the coffee - which could have been brewing this entire time but nope!

Give me Ingo who eats the same thing every day for a month straight because nothing else appeals to him, so he keeps having to make late-night runs to the convenience store to pick up more of whatever he needs to make it - or maybe it’s a prepackaged thing because he can’t for the life of him get his brain to let him cook anything, regardless of how much he tries. Then, one day he just. Stops. Eating the thing. And then doesn’t eat it again for a year and a half because he’s burnt himself out.

Give me depressive Ingo who masks while at work, unable to mimic other people’s emotions and physical actions (a typical thing but now it’s worse) because he has no mental energy to spare, even at the job he loves so much. He doesn’t feel that same joy he normally does while helping passengers, driving the trains, running the battle lines; right now it’s all he can do to make it through the day because he just doesn’t. Have it. In him. To devote as much energy and enthusiasm into his day to day interactions as he normally would. It’s exhausting at best. Irritating and abrasive at worst.

Give me Bipolar Submas.

Everything he does is slower, more draining - even talking runs his battery into the ground, to the point where he goes completely nonverbal when he gets home after work. But he has an image to uphold, a responsibility to the people of Nimbasa, so he hides it, masks, pretends he’s his usual cheerful self, and it all serves to drain him even more. He goes from the manic only-eat-one-thing to the depressive forget-to-eat-at-all. He doesn’t realize when he’s gone ten hours without food because he doesn’t feel hungry, but he does feel steadily worse and worse over the course of the day.

Give me the twins who forget to talk to Elesa for weeks because time means nothing anymore; it's not that they don't want to talk to her, it's just that they didn't have the energy to reply right away and then three days have passed and they should really answer her texts but now they're anxious because it's past the socially acceptable timeframe in which to do so. So they freeze. And then three days becomes two weeks. And the cycle continues. (They feel so much guilt over it, too, and it just sinks into the rest of the depression pile with all the other shit.)

Alternatively, give me the twins who constantly blow up Elesa's phone because they have all this stuff to tell her they're so fucking excited ELESA LOOK! They send paragraphs of text, photos every five minutes, infodump over facetime for a solid hour over their newest hyperfixation. Give me the twins caught in a mania loop between the two of them where they accidentally enable one another's impulsivity.

Then give me mutually supportive twins, helping drag their brother to work because they know how hard it is to function but they have each other's backs - or them making sure the other eats and force their twin to takes breaks from their fixation to stretch and rest.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

Learning to Forgive Myself

I got punished yesterday.

We have, in essence, three rules. Do as I’m told. Be respectful. Don’t cum without permission.

We aren’t 24/7 and most of the time, I can’t and won’t follow the first two. I have control issues and a wry, sarcastic tongue. So there’s only one rule I’m expected to follow all the time.

So it’s probably obvious which rule I broke.

So it’s Monday and it’s already been a rough week. I’m running on a handful of hours of sleep with waves of menstrual cramps on the third full day of a migraine and sixth 16-hour work day in a row.

Nothing is helping.

But the bedroom air conditioning is crisp and the lights are out. I am caught in the pull of cool satin sheets and strip down to luxuriate for a few stolen moments.

I know I can’t fall asleep, and I begin idly playing with my pussy. No urgency, just languid strokes, heel of my hand brushing my clit.

I am not even desperate. There is no frantic grinding. Just a slow coil, heat rising like the sun stretching up the sleepy horizon.

Maybe that’s where it started. Maybe I was caught unaware by my own pleasure muffling the pain and tension.

But it doesn’t matter. I found myself on the crest and whimpered “no, stop” aloud around the fingers I slipped between my lips. I never seem to take my own advice.

It gets worse.

I didn’t pause, didn’t pull my hand out of my cunt, but I did realize I should. Instead, I choked deeper on my fingers and came again. And again. And again.

Things were tense, at home. Too many moving parts and no privacy, no time or space for us to enjoy each other. So I didn’t say anything because there was nothing that could be done about it. I vowed to tell him at the first real opportunity.

It didn’t come that day or the next. And Tuesday I found myself more desperate, more careless, reading porn and grinding my pussy against a pillow. And again, I helped myself to not one but multiple rolling orgasms.

After, I swore loudly and brushed the sweaty hair off my forehead and neck. What the fuck was I doing? What had I done?

We don’t do “funishments” and I like to be obedient. I submit easily and willingly to him, and punishments are not commonplace.

And I’m a good girl.

Our arrangement is that I can edge whenever the fuck I want. It relieves stress and benefits my mental health. But I am not allowed to cum without permission. My orgasms are for him. They are for his enjoyment (and he does very much enjoy them).

He’s a pleasure dom and almost never says no. But I have to ask.

All I had to do was ask.

When he came to see me later that night, he put his hand firmly on the back of my neck. I usually melt, but I stilled and said “I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” I didn’t want to confess. I didn’t want to face his disappointment.

But he could tell where my headspace was at and that I was floating the line between falling into submission.

He acquiesced, but asked me if I was sure. It didn’t seem like I was in a place to pull myself out of it.

I wanted nothing more than his hand soft against my cheek, but felt sick with sin.

Then yesterday came. And with it came a rare moment of peace. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. We were laying on the bed together, his arms around me, my face buried so far into his shirt that I couldn’t breathe and I confessed all of my transgressions.

He was quiet, for a while. He does not move in anger or on impulse. “I don’t like to punish you when you’re trying to manage your stress,” he said. He did not, however, say he wasn’t going to.

I began to cry, not in fear, but in deep relief. He firmly rolled me over onto my back, foot knocking my legs apart.

I twisted my shoulders over to bury my face back into him and cling to his shirt just as he brought his hand down on my cunt. Hard. Again and again. I don’t know how long it lasted or how many times he struck me.

I bawled the whole time, a refrain of “I’m so sorry” between gasps. It wasn’t the intoxicating sting I usually love from a beating. The motions were the same, the intensity was the same, but my body refused to find pleasure in it.

I’m thankful for that. Feeling his intent through each hit, letting the discipline overwhelm me, it brought me to a different place.

When it was over, and he was holding me tight, crooning forgiveness and praise, and I had cried all the tears I could, I felt horrid guilt churning.

“I want to be good,” I said.

“You are so good. You’re my good girl.”

“I was so bad.”

“But you told me. You told me and you took your punishment so well. You’re always my good girl.”

In the past, I’ve spiraled. I’ve begged for more punishment, I’ve begged to be denied orgasms. I insisted I hadn’t suffered enough.

But this time, something happened. That self deprecating voice inside my head spoke out still but it did not say martyr yourself. It said “why are you doubting him? He forgave you. Who are you to refute his forgiveness?”

It’s all part of the trust. It’s the only way this thing works. If I hand him that power over me and then question his decision, am I really submitting? Am I still trying to fucking control things by determining my own consequences?

Anyway, this is all to say we had one of those moments where we were both reminded why this is important to us. Why we find comfort in this dynamic and how it strengthens us.

(But rest assured, I will not be repeating my mistakes any time soon. After all, if I want to get spanked, all I have to do is ask.)

[imagineanime2022]

Learned Trick

Chuya Nakahara X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2055

Requested: Anon

Request: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You had a fierce loyalty to Mori and honestly very rarely played well with others, you often worked alone unless you were paired with Chuya or were ordering your subordinates around. You tried to work with people when Mori asked it of you but that only ever rarely went well. You were a prime target for the Armed Detective Agency because of your tendency to work alone and it was no different when you found yourself faced with Kunikida and Dr Yosano.

“I don’t have time to fight you.” You glared at them as you attempted to get past them. “You’ll have to if you want to get to our boss.” Dr Yosano said as she swung her sword, it would have killed you if it wasn’t for your ability, you activated it and broke her weapon his half, while headbutting her in the head, you felt the shots hit the back of your shoulder and turned to Kunikida you moved towards his kicking his legs out from underneath him, he cried out in pain as one of his legs seemed to bend in the wrong direction. “I’m sure your doctor can fix that.” You mumbled as you jogged up the stairs to find the person that you were looking for.

When you got up to where their boss had been staying, you could see that he was sleeping “I’m sorry, I don’t blame you for anything and if there was some other way to get through this but I can’t let him die, not after everything that he’s done for me.” You explained, you take your knife out of your jacket and stabbed Futakawa but he instead turned to an illusion, you gritted your teeth you should have seen that coming with the ability user that could create illusion being part of the ADA. “Tricked you Miss sunglasses.” A voice teased behind you as light emitted around you, you glanced around and saw that you had changed location to an older house, your clothes had changed and so had the people around you. “What is going on?” You asked. “All you have to do is solve the mystery.” Ranpo explained as he stood next to you. “What?” You asked. “And if I don’t.” “You’ll die here.” He answered.

Chuya growled as you failed to pick up yet another call, he was worried about you, he hadn’t seen you since you’d found out that Mori had been poisoned and he knew that you could get impulsive when someone you cared about was in trouble. He wanted to tell you the plan that they had come up with but there were more pressing matters to attend to so he just had to hope that you were going to be okay. He had been dating you long enough to know that you could take care of yourself but he was still going to worry about you until answered his messages or calls. He put the letter you had left him in his pocket, you had told him to use your subordinates as he pleased so he wasn’t going to exactly that as well as the new gear that you had made.

“We’ve successfully captured her, should we tell the Port Mafia?” Kunikida asked Dazai as they all looked at the book that you were currently trapped in. “No, she’s quite a prominent figure in the Port Mafia. If they find out that we have her, they’ll only become more defensive, especially with Chuya temporarily leading.” Dazai explained. “I hope this keeps her busy for a little while at least.” Dr Yosano said before they both left to meet up with their boss. “Well if Chuya is going to be the problem I’ll keep him distracted, you help Ranpo escape.” “Are you sure?” Kunikida asked. “That’s probably the best idea, we don’t want him to think about it too much, she might have told him where she was going.” Dazai explained. “Alright.” Kunikida nodded. “Be careful of both of you.” Dazai warned as Kunikida hung up the phone.

“I remember you, you're the doctor right?” Chuya asked as Dr Yosano appeared in front of him. “I’m flattered that you remember me.” She smirked as she swung her large blade at him, Chuya pulled up a rock to block the hit before kicking it at her, she cut the boulder in half in time to see him land on the ceiling. “I’m looking for someone. If you tell me where she is I’ll leave.” He answered. “I doubt that.” Yosano answered, she jumped up and attempted to hit him again but this time he disappeared kicking her in the back, she recovered quickly by hitting him in the jaw, he got ready to attack again but a message came through to his ear piece. “Chuya the ADA attacked the base. We need backup where are you!?” Higuchi asked. “Saved by the bell, until next time doctor.” Chuya said. “Higuchi, Akutagawa protect Mori, Black Lizard head back to the base, try not to let them get too far in and everyone be careful. Something happened to (Y/N) I don’t know what but you all need to be careful.” There was a chorus of ‘yes’ or ‘yes sir’s over the comms as he tried to get away from the doctor and back to the base as he turned to leave he saw something on the floor, he crouched and picked it up recognising it was your sunglasses.

You had been in the book for a while now, by the books time it was 3 hours but you had no idea what that meant to the outside world, instead you were stuck solving crimes with the annoying child detective, you remembered some things from a crime novel that you read a little while ago and had managed to solve 5 of 6 crimes contained in the book but you mind had cycled back to the reason you were there in the first place and you began to worry that it was all taking too long “I didn’t think that it would take this long, I hope he’s okay.” You mumbled more to yourself than anyone else. “He’s probably dead.” Ranpo mumbled as you glared at him before turning to walk out of the room, you needed to find a quicker way out of this. “Where are you going?” “Looking for other clues.” You answered walking away from him, this was a house like any other, there would be things here for you to build a bomb, you might even be able to build more than one and force the killer out by scaring them. After building the bomb you execute your plan, you walk into the room where everyone had gathered “Who’s the killer?” You asked. “We already told you we don’t know.” One of them asked. “Wrong answer.” You sneered as you detonated the bomb. “Try again.” “What the hell are you doing?” One of them asked and you shrugged. “Catching a killer.” You answered. “Hey!” Ranpo called and you turned back to him as he walked in. “Killer! Now!” You ordered as you looked back at the people in front of you pressing the detonator again, you glanced back as Ranpo who had been pinned by some fallen beams. “Fine, I’m the one who did it, it was me!” One of them finally admitted and you smirked as everything seemed to freeze the glow emitting as you disappeared from the book.

When you appeared in the real world again you looked around, there was no one else there but the blood around made you think that Ranpo had gotten out before you but was badly injured, you decided to ignore Ranpo for the moment and make sure that everyone was okay, you checked your phone to see that there was a few missed calls and finally a text telling you where you should go if you got the message.

Once you headed to where Chuya had told you to go, you found Atsushi and Akutagawa. It seemed like the fight was over but they both seemed completely exhausted. “You two okay?” You called out and they both looked at you. “What are you doing here?” Akutagawa asked. “Chuya said you weren’t answering his calls.” “I was tied up.” You jumped down to them, noticing that Akutagawa looked worse than Atsushi did. “Nakajima, where is Ranpo?” “I don’t know. What happened, you look like you want to kill him.” He answered, you rolled your eyes before gesturing for them both to follow you. “We need to get out of here.” You mumbled as waved your hand towards the tunnel you hoped led out. You managed to get them out of the tunnel “Fyodor isn’t here is he?” “No.” Atsushi answered and you nodded “grab him and let’s go.” Your attention was drawn to Ivan as he started laughing. “Did anyone ever guarantee that capturing this base would lead you to my master?” Ivan asked. “Are you suggesting that he was never really here at all!?” Akutagawa asked, Ivan fell into hysterical laughter. “How?” “All you have to do is listen to the music, the requests being made on this radio station serve as a way for him to give his orders. No amount of hacking could stop us so you see how you’ve lost from the very beginning” Ivan answered. “You really think that you managed to outsmart anyone, there’s someone who isn’t here, Dazai, he’s the one you should have been focusing on, I’ll guarantee that any moment now he’s taking your boss into custody and you’ll be coming with us.” You explained “come on let’s go.”

You handed Ivan over to the Ango’s men before taking Atsushi back to Dazai “You got him?” You asked. “Of course I did.” Dazai smirked and you nodded. “Good. Are you okay?" You asked, he nodded. "Now one more thing, where’s your little detective friend?” You asked. “What do you want with Ranpo?” He asked. “You know what I want, it was your idea wasn’t it?” You asked. “Partly,” Dazai admitted. “Why?” You asked. “I couldn’t just let you kill our boss, you’d have done the same to me to protect Mori.” He shrugged a small smile on his face. “Tch, fine tell your detective to be careful where he goes from now on. If I catch him I’ll kill him.” You informed him under other circumstances you would have joked back but your anger towards the detective to front and center. “Woah, there’s no need for that.” Dazai argued and you looked at him and rolled your eyes. “What do you suggest then?” You asked. “Don’t worry I’ll deal with it, just head back, I’m sure Chuya is looking for you.” Dazai said. “Akutagawa let’s go.” You ordered as you gestures for him to follow you back to the Port Mafia base.

When you got back to the base you continued to worry about Mori, you headed straight for his office to check on him not even noticing Chuya on the way, you knocked on the door after receiving the order to come in you bowed “Sir I just came to check on you.” You said, you heard him give a soft chuckle. “I’m fine, much better than I was before.” He answered. “That’s relieving.” You sighed. “You should go and find Chuya. He was looking for you.” Mori said as he waved you away, you nodded and headed back out of the office. “There you are!” You turned to see Chuya walking up to you. “Where have you been?” “I got trapped in a book.” You explained “some ability, I think, I had to solve a murder and find all the suspects to get out.” “Are you hurt?” He asked. “No, I'm fine.” You answered. “I assume that you got rid of the ability user.” He said and you shook your head. “I don’t know who had that ability but I tried to get the stupid detective that stuck me in there but Dazai wouldn’t let me.” You shrugged. “That idiot gets in the way of everything.” Chuya mumbled “we’ll get him some other time for now let’s just rest, we’ve all been through a lot today.” “Yeah you're right.” You nodded. “Let's go back to my place, have dinner, there’s a new wine that I want to try.” He suggested and you nodded. “That sounds nice.” You agreed. “Oh one more thing.” Chuya handed you the sunglasses that he assumed you lost. “I wondered where those went.” You smiled as you both left to head home.

Request Here!!

[purplesurveys]

1658

Are you Guilty or Innocent of these things?

[A/N: Bold means guilty, no bold means innocent, italicized means ehhhhh sometimes I’ll be guilty of this but sometimes not.]

Liking pineapples on pizza I hate pineapple in general so they never go on my pizza. I’m also personally not a fan of the whole pineapples-on-pizza thing but if I see other people preferring them then it’s whatever.

Not drinking enough water I do skip water the whole day then drink a whole bunch of it in the evening, which isn’t the healthiest habit. At night I can probably reach 5-6 glasses.

Calling sick a lot at work Like, using up my sick leave credits? I rarely do so if it wasn’t a legit situation. Generally I also just rarely take leaves as it’s hard to get behind in such a fast-paced industry.

Leaving the dishes to "soak" in the sink a little too long It used to be a habit but not anymore. I hate leaving stuff out for too long and it makes me feel more at ease the sooner I clean up after myself.

Putting things off until last minute Yeah pretty much in all aspects where this is relevant. The only time I’d say I’m not guilty of this is at work because I’m super rigid with deadlines.

Not being able to keep a secret Depends. I’m mostly innocent and can keep a secret but there are exceptions where I can’t help but tell Angela. Making plans and canceling This was sometimes me in college, which I know is SUCH a shitty behavior; but I don’t do this anymore. I’ve experienced people canceling on me hours before said plan and I hate it so I avoid doing it at all costs.

Making impulse buys Yeah...hate this habit. Like I’m always 97% likely to buy something on impulse if I feel like I have extra money on me. A couple of months ago I got a bracelet I knew I was gonna lose in like two weeks anyway (I really did lose it eventually).

Having trouble saying no to others Yup, ESFJ struggles hah. I have a desperate need to please others all the time even if it comes at the expense of my own convenience.

Over spending Very guilty but I’m actively trying to address it now. I haven’t spent on anything in nearly a month, especially after I had to shell out 12 grand for my dog bite vaccinations.

Gambling I have never gambled and will never consider doing so.

Stealing something I’ve stolen an abandoned pen here and there in school, but it’s never gotten anything bigger or more serious than that.

Singing in the shower I’ll occasionally hum extremely softly but I’ve never broken out into song.

Sleeping naked I’ve done it a few times with a partner but I wouldn’t do it on my own.

Making New Years resolutions you can never keep I never make resolutions in the first place.

Being arrested I’ve never been arrested. Pulled over and gotten a ticket, sure; but not arrested.

Not studying before taking tests Might be the Asian in me but that just feels so wrong, lol. I always skimmed over my notes one way or another for every single exam or quiz.

Making up fake reasons to get out of plans with someone Not anymore but I did this a handful of times in college back when I had a partner and wanted to hang out with them instead (ew), or when I’d suddenly get hit with a wave of social anxiety.

Googling your symptoms Well, yeah. I kinda do that for every single inconvenience I experience with my body hahaha.

Peeing in the woods Have never done that.

Regifting a Christmas gift you didn't like Not guilty and would never consider doing this. I always get plagued with thoughts of how the gifter would feel if they found out.

Locking your car keys in the car You know what? Considering how clumsy and forgetful I can be all the time, it’s a miracle this hasn’t happened hahaha.

Road rage Ugh very guilty, especially in college. I know it’s not an excuse but Metro Manila traffic can be extremely frustrating, guys. Couple that with the fact that Filipinos are generally super inconsiderate and unpredictable on the road, and it all makes out to give you just a very stressful experience altogether.

Buying more books even though you have books you havent even started yet I don’t do this with books but have occasionally done this with notebooks in high school.

Wearing pajamas out in public Innocent. I did bring my BTS pajamas for the theatrical premiere of Yet to Come Busan but ultimately didn’t change into them because I got too shy and was afraid that people were going to judge me for wearing pajamas in public haha.

Breaking something and then lying about it For sure, especially when I was younger.

Ignoring phone calls and watching the call until it stops ringing Guilty but I don’t feel guilty about it. Message me first, you rude weirdo.

Petting every dog or cat you see As tempting as it can be, it’s potentially dangerous, so mostly innocent. For pets I’d typically just wave at the dog, then for stray aspins I would pet and interact if they seemed accustomed enough to people.

Cheating at a board game Eh, innocent. I don’t like playing board games anyway.

Dropping an ice cube and kicking it under the fridge I know it melts and evaporates and all but am innocent, that just seems so gross to me hahaha who knows the gunk that hangs out underneath the fridge...if I drop an ice cube I just drop in the sink and let it melt there.

Lying about your age Guilty, once. I wanted to try my first margarita, so I ordered one at 17. The waitress could immediately tell I was a minor though and I was shot down when I couldn’t provide an ID.

Watching cartoons as an adult Guilty, but again I don’t feel guilty about it haha. I literally watched a few Spongebob episodes with my sister yesterday.

Sneaking your own snacks into the movie theater Bringing in your own food in the cinemas here in the Philippines is allowed; you don’t need to sneak anything in.

Littering Innocent. I don’t get what’s so hard about putting your trash in your pocket or bag first.

Cutting your own hair Innocent, that’d be a recipe for disaster if I were ever to do it myself.

Looking for your phone when it's in your hand It’s definitely happened more than once; with my glasses, too.

Folding laundry but never putting it away LOL yeah. Why can I never manage to put it back in my closet? :((

Blocking people you dislike on social media Guilty but unbothered. I get annoyed fairly easily and a block is the quickest and most satisfying way to deal with people.

Giving someone a fake phone number Was never stuck in a situation where I had to do so.

Buying clothing that you never wear Yeah, guilty. It’s always the clothes that looked good on the mannequin but didn’t end up suiting me.

Putting a christmas tree up before thanksgiving Not relevant to me; I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. My family does put up our Christmas tree in October, but that’s because that’s the practice here in the Philippines. You’d be the weird household if you only put Christmas stuff up literally in December hahaha.

Spending hours on TikTok watching videos TikTok edits are cringey for the most part, but I can spend hours going through IG Reels since the videos there are more straightforward.

[corditeheart]

* important headcanons to consider.

can they use chopsticks : Yes, she can. 

what do they do when they can’t sleep : There’s always work to be done-- usually, she holes up with her laptop somewhere comfortable and answers the emails that aren’t priorities during working hours. 

what would they impulse buy at the grocery store : Wine with interesting labels, magazines that catch her attention in the checkout line

what order do they wash things in the shower : Hair first, then face, then body. The after-shower routine is like a fourteen-step skincare deal that takes more time than the shower itself. 

what’s their coffee order :  Black coffee. If she’s feeling fancy, she’ll get a couple shots of hazelnut syrup in it, but that’s as complicated as it ever gets. During the height of summer, she’ll switch to iced coffee, but it’s still black. 

what sort of apps would they have on their smartphone :  Anything work-related, the Garden Network mobile app, the only Triple Triad app she doesn’t outright loathe, and a GPS tracker that’s not exactly legal, but incredibly useful. 

how do they act around children :  Xu gets along fairly well with the children at Garden-- they don’t know enough to understand her reputation, and part of her job entails handling some of the educational administrative duties at Garden. Mostly because Kramer tends to let kids off with little more than a gentle word, and no one learns from their mistakes that way, in her opinion. 

She does not want children of her own, though. Too much responsibility, and what would happen to them when she inevitably ends up dead? They end up right back in Garden. 

what would they watch on tv when they’re bored and nothing they really like is on : There’s usually a Triple Triad regional tournament playing. The TV is mostly background noise, anyway. 

tagged by: @hartofbalamb

tagging:@dontstepinmypuddle, @lionfated, @sunny-explosions, anyone else who wants to steal it!

[evcryopeneye]

* important headcanons to consider.

can they use chopsticks: Yes…she’s better at chopsticks than anything else, will literally eat anything with them, right down to eating potato chips and snacks so she doesn’t get the grease on her paper.

what do they do when they can’t sleep: It’s rare. Super rare. Feng Wu could sleep standing up. She works twenty four hour shifts. Sleep is a rare commodity and she god damn loves sleep. It’s her favourate hobby. The only time she really gets insomnia is when there’s something really, really, bothering her. In that case, she tends to just. Stare at the TV until she passes out.

what would they impulse buy at the grocery store: Spicy snacks. If it doesn’t make you want to cry it’s not spicy enough.

what order do they wash things in the shower: Ok there’s a very specific order to this. Face mask on. It can dry while she gets everything ready. Hair. Put conditioner on the hair while she gets washed so it has time to  sink in properly. Face. Body. Then she begins her skincare routine. Look. It takes a lot of effort to look presentable when you are up for 24 hours a day.

what’s their coffee order:  Black coffee over ice. Preferably a bottle the size of her head.

what sort of apps would they have on their smartphone:  PocketMedicine because you try remembering reference test values at 4am. Social media because she might just live her life on them. Feng Wu doesn’t have a lot of time to spend hanging out with friends. All of her friends from university are the same too. It’s about the only social interaction she gets a day.

how do they act around children: Feng Wu is excellent with children. Kind. Soft. She has a good bedside manner. It helps that the children she sees most of the time, are having one of the most traumatising times of their life. Kids involved in accidents, who are in pain and scared. She’s pretty good at getting them to calm down, to keep their cool while they do their jobs and to win trust. She wont ever lie to a child. If somethings going to hurt she will tell them that, but explain why it has to be done. Kids are much more clever than people give them credit. Feng Wu sees it every day.

what would they watch on tv when they’re bored and nothing they really like is on: Something mind numbing, a bit of reality TV, a cartoon, something that means she can disconnect and zone out after a long day. She just wants to disassociate.

tagged by: @hartofbalamb​ tagging: @erinjareau​ ( Erin ) @nebulaties​ ( Erica ) @tofeelthecold​ ( TK )

[moebarrythefrogshroom]

my strategy for being permanently suicidal:

1. do something else until i forget about it

2. go for a walk at night. try to spot a fox. wear matching fluffy gloves and socks. purchase reduced halloween decor with last pennies.  3. nap it out. sometimes sleep helps. sometimes it makes it much worse.  4. have a hard cry. no pretending to look pretty for the cameras. ugly, scrunched up, blotchy, snotty, sob.  5. realise the cat fell asleep on my legs. bask in the moment of happy. if not happy, then just appreciate his open-mouthed snore. 6. fairy lights.  7. make those cute heart-shaped origami envelopes. 8. re-watch criminal minds again. it can’t end if i just re-watch it.  9. pile up all of the stuffed friends. all i can find. every single one. look at them.  10. shave off eyebrows. momentary self destruction, painless. no real harm done. can draw them back on. moment of poor impulse control with less consequences than shaving my head or sh.  11. try to find the moon in the sky. then count the stars. see how many more come into focus the longer i sit.  12. wait it out. agonising. but usually effective.   13. try to visualise the parts i want to die. is it all of me? really? or is it living here? is it my body and/or appearance? is it the mess piling up around me? is it withdrawal? did i forget my meds again? am i extra hormonal? are my painkillers working? where do i want to go? what job do i want? do i want a job at all? how do i want to live? spiral up and out, not down. no pessimism. ideal situations here.   14. throw a funeral for myself. as many as it takes. bury or burn something that represents the bad of no.13. write an angry/sad/nostalgic eulogy.  15. watch good but mindless telly. house md. chicago med. greys anatomy. daredevil. jacksepticeye play-throughs. BwB videos. JJK. anything that can be on without paying much attention.  16. don’t get stuck on fixing everything right now, in the next 15 minutes. focus on what will dig me out of this hole enough to breathe. air-holes, not escape hatches. calm down enough to realise this is a tunnel, not a hole, and at the end i can just walk out. no need to lose my fingernails digging through metal.  16b. when out of said hole, find strategies to make the hole a little less deep for next time. or to include a map to the tunnel exit. or a note to bring snacks next time. make it easier for me. i don’t have to prove my struggle through suffering more. nobody in my life is worth extra misery. 17. light a wax melt. day dream. scent oils on pillow case. set the scene and drift away for a bit. useful full time? no. better than forever box? yes, always. 18. draw through it. digitally or traditionally. however i need it. get graphic. or don’t, draw the happy parts. fan-art. fields full of bunny rabbits. whatever works. 19. re-read some comfort books. if thats too difficult, watch something comforting. ghibli is good. avoid triggering media. 20. CLOSE OTHER TABS. computer for music/ ghibli films only. phone turned off. triggering sites on a blocksite extension. curate the surroundings to keep me safe. while this won’t likely go away anytime soon, these usually help. remember dying is forever. and that’s not what i want. i need different, not nothing.