#maybe I'm feeling guilty because I worked hard to stop with the bad habits but then it all slipped while I was sick

[foreignobjecticus]

Having lots of hobbies is great! No matter how much you achieve in a day, you will always also have the Guilt of 'I should be doing Other Hobby' gnawing at your insides. :)

[alchemistc]

i like your voice in person

Evan's staring at the bed like he's trying to navigate a minefield.

Six months ago that would have sent Tommy on another journey of self-deprecation, a reminder that he'd known Evan wasn't ready for this, known this was a possibility, but Evan, for all his own insecurities, knows what the hell he wants and if he'd felt even an ounce of pressure or remorse up to this point he'd have said something long before now.

Sometimes Evan likes to work it out himself, and sometimes he needs a little nudge, and Tommy watches the head tilt and the angle of his pursed lips for cues as he settles under the sheets.

"Something on your mind?" he prompts, and Evan blinks, like he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.

"Uh...nothing, maybe."

"Sounds like something, probably."

Evan's smile tilts up at one corner, and he settles on the bed a little stiffly. "It's nothing major. Just. Something I've been thinking about?"

He can feel his brows jumping, can see the way Evan takes in the look with a fond expression. Evan steels himself for something -- they're still muddling through past experiences and learning how to be a bit more intentional in some of their conversations, because they both have a bad habit of reverting to flirting and deflection.

"You remember what we talked about last weekend?"

Tommy can genuinely remember about 93 percent of what he and Evan talk about at any given time, which is an astronomically high number and not at all an exaggeration. He'd be embarrassed about it if he didn't have clear evidence that Evan was as deep into this as he was.

They talk a lot, is the thing, about inconsequential shit just as much (definitely more) than the important stuff. They talk far more than Tommy can remember talking in any other relationship he's been in. But Tommy can pinpoint the exact one he means.

"You mean the roles thing."

Evan hadn't been a stranger to a little daddy talk in bed when they started to explore it, and he'd brought it up right at the start for a reason, but Tommy had taken a while to come around to the realization that Evan had sort of internalized the 'I don't have daddy issues' of it all in a way that Tommy hadn't actually meant it. There'd been little things, here and there; like Evan reaching a door before him and then bashfully waiting with it half open like he'd made a misstep; like twisting his mouth a little funny when he snatched the bill from the table before Tommy could get it. Little things.

Things that, in the abstract, yeah, Tommy liked to do for his partners, but in reality weren't actually that big a deal to him.

He'd needed to clear the air.

Evan nods. Curls a hand around his knee before he shifts his body so that he's facing Tommy. "So, I like taking care of people."

(A conversation, a month ago, Evan grimacing around "My therapist says I have to stop calling myself a people pleaser in a derogatory way.")

Tommy hums, something to remind Evan he's listening.

"And I guess I sort of built up this idea in my head that that was like, a hard stop with you."

("Everyone likes being taken care of sometimes, Evan.")

"And I'm not -- I'm not upset at you, or like, feeling guilty, I just -- I've been thinking about it, and I feel like I forgot to ask you how you wanted to be taken care of."

The thing with Evan is that no matter how often he'll deflect with a joke, when he wants to say something serious he's blunt as hell about it. There might be some hemming and hawing to get there but sometimes he says things that just make Tommy wonder if he'd ever actually learned how to say things before Evan.

"I don't really have a list, babe," he says, and then sort of hates himself for it. Deflect, distract, hey baby how about I blow you about all these big feelings inside my chest I can't articulate.

Evan, though, Evan squinches his eyes and runs a heavy hand through his hair. "I...sort of do?"

"Lay it on me."

Evan grins. "That's actually one of the things on my list."

Tommy blinks. Tries to figure out that trail of thought, but he's coming up with nothing. "Okay, can you expand on that?"

"Like --listen, you know I'm a huge fan of being the little spoon. I'd let someone put screws back in my leg just for continued little spoon privileges. But sometimes I miss being the big spoon, and in my head the idea sounded so stupid to bring up but now I'm wondering if, like, maybe I've just been denying you the joy of being the little spoon?"

Tommy thinks of Evan's hands spread big and warm across his belly, of knees tucked up behind his, warm breath on the back of his neck like when Evan stumbles up behind him in the mornings whining about coffee, and maybe he blue screens a bit because he's never actually dated someone so close to his own size, because there's always been an assumption at the outset that he wouldn't want that.

Alex had been a little too into the same dynamic he'd seen Evan stumbling through, and Colin had hated sleeping with someone's flesh touching his own. Beyond that he hadn't really dated anyone long enough to really form a preference.

Maybe Kara might have been willing, back when he'd been closeted enough to pretend it wasn't an effort to get it up when she had his dick in her mouth, but they'd been young enough that staying the night wasn't really a consideration.

"And like -- listen, I don't necessarily prescribe to gender roles as a thing in general, but a few weekends ago I spent like twenty minutes staring at a bouquet of flowers in Trader Joe's and convinced myself you wouldn't like the gesture so I didn't buy them but you have a few vases in your moms old china cabinet and the moment I remembered them I felt stupid for not buying the flowers."

There's something curling tenderly underneath Tommy's ribcage that he's not sure he's ever felt quite like this before. It's not new, exactly, but it seems to be thrumming particularly hard tonight.

Three months in, Tommy had gotten the man-flu from hell, temperatures so high he'd been grounded and sent packing to rest it off, and he'd texted Evan a jumbled mess of barely discernible things when they'd tucked him into the Uber.

Evan and Bobby had made chicken noodle soup at the station and Hen had sent Evan off with a laundry list of things he could do to help drop the fever, and Tommy had spent the duration sulking and glowering and dragging himself out of bed every time Evan had wanted to change the sheets, to keep Tommy as comfortable as he could, but when Evan had caught it four days later he hadn't hesitated to do all the same shit with gusto. Evan hadn't been particularly grateful either, because neither one of them liked being laid up when the world was out there waiting for them, but he'd at least had the grace to not be an asshole about it.

He had, though. Been grateful. A little awestruck, too, at the mere idea of someone so unafraid of just being there through all the moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing, keeping the tissues from piling up on the bedside table and switching out cold packs to the freezer so he always had one ready in case he wanted it. In the clarity of a full day without fever making his brain feel like cotton candy he'd stared down at a sleepily wheezing Evan and known he could absolutely lose his heart to this man.

"Also I don't want to toot my own horn here but I give excellent foot rubs, and I feel like there's about a million other things I've just been -- holding back from doing?"

"Because of the role thing, or because all your stupid exes told you you were needy?"

It's not a night to pull punches. Also Tommy wants to send thank you cards to every single one of them and attach them to boxes with a bark scorpion inside.

"Both," Evan says without a second of hesitation. His smile crinkles at the corners of his mouth, and Tommy is suddenly annoyed with the space between them. When he holds out his hand to tug Evan into him, Evan melts into it for the space of a moment before he pulls back. "I actually kind of desperately want to be the big spoon right now, if that's something you'd be into." Evan had definitely clocked the look on his face when he'd mentioned it, but he's keyed into the way Tommy checks in and reciprocated in kind since the start of this, so.

Tommy peels his glasses off, snags his bookmark to keep his spot in the monstrosity of the Wrangler maintenance manual he'd stopped being cagey about the fifth time Evan caught him flipping through it, and watches Evan settle comfortably into bed next to him. The problem is, Tommy actually isn't sure where to go from there, which is a ridiculous thought to have because Evan hadn't either and he'd figured it out just fine.

"How do you want me, Buckley?"

The roll of his eyes is so bitchy that Tommy has to remind himself that for all his people pleasing attributes, Evan Buckley is, at heart, a huge fucking brat. Evan tugs and twists and maneuvers his arms and Tommy sort of sinks into it, head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, draping his leg over one of Evan's when he shifts his knee pointedly, a massive, unruly breath escaping Tommy once they're all done shifting.

"You should absolutely try out the rest of your list," he murmurs into the space where Evan's shoulder meets his neck. "Although you don't need to woo me anymore, I'm actually fully wooed."

Lips against his crown, pressed tightly enough that he can feel the smile against his scalp, Evan chuckles. "You don't know how good my wooing is."

The fingers shifting up and down his arm feel somehow different, from this position, even though Evan has done it a hundred times before from the spot he likes to claim with his head right over Tommy's bleeding, three-sizes-too-big-for-him heart. It's ridiculous, and it shouldn't feel any different, but it does. He wants to be greedy with it, soak it in and then never let Evan do this again because he finally understands the appeal and he doesn't want to deprive Evan that.

"This is nicer than I expected."

Evan's soft laugh ruffles his hair, and Tommy wonders if he's dumb enough to ask Eddie how long he should wait before he can reasonably beg Evan to spend the rest of his life with him.

"Save the reviews for when I actually spoon you. It's gonna rock your world." His hand drifts up, fingers digging into the dimple of Tommy's skull.

The hum in his throat has a mind of it's own, going thin and reedy and --

Evan pauses, and Tommy can practically see the gears whirring in his mind, because this is new information.

To both of them, actually, but Tommy doesn't have time to process it because the fingers on the back of his skull spread and sink deeper, just enough pressure to be more than a glancing ruffle, and Tommy can't quite help the way he tilts his head back into it, or the way he hitches his leg to press his groin a little more firmly to the outside of Evan's thigh.

They're both too tired for it to really mean anything -- both off 48's and a fumbled round in the shower while they were already bone weary -- but Tommy wants the reminder for them both when they wake up in the morning.

He can feel his eyes drooping the longer Evan scrubs his fingers against him, and the thought pops into his head as he's drifting off. He doesn't want it to disappear into the fog, though, so he murmurs it into the soft, warm skin of Evan's neck. "I like camellia's. White ones."

Evan hums, and Tommy just knows that the moment he drops off, Evan will be reaching for his phone to google the language of flowers.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

warning: anon ask referring to self-harm and relapsing.

last night i relapsed on my self harm streak of about 1 year. feeling so guilty and so shitty. worried my boyfriend and felt so fucking disgusting about that. i hate myself i hate that i did this because it was all for nothing. im just as anxious as i was and feeling even worse bc i left my boyfriend so fucking worried. i havent spoken to him since last night after i told him how sorry i was that im getting him involved in this bs. i know i know i cant expect him to not worry or be scared but i feel so bad that he is doing that in the first place. i hate that im scaring him and i hate that i make him feel like he cant help me. i went off all my socials and told him i need sometime. i want to talk to him about this, i want to not be so impulsive and anxious and i want to not let him be so scared all the time. i hate this i hate it sm. send helpppp

"I'm stuck." "I did all that and I'm still like this." "I haven't changed." "I'm never going to change." "I can't break the cycle." "I fucked up and I can't get away from these thoughts, I worked this hard for this long and somehow I'm still trapped by my demons and one day I might..."

Yeah, I know.

"Lose."

I know you might feel as if you're back to square one, but you're not. Things are different this time. He may not understand why you have closed off like this, but one day he will because you will be able to explain it to him. You at least told him and that was what you were ready for at this time, but at some point in the future, maybe not in this heavy headspace, you will be able to find the words to say what you're going through right now.

You might know this already, but I'll remind you: self-harm is a habit. Habits are hard to break. Sometimes, at just the wrong time, a series of events will hit you in a certain place and shit goes down. It doesn't mean you can't stop it in the future simply because you couldn't stop it this time. It doesn't mean you've weak either for giving in. Look for the stressors and the situations you were in that pushed you over the edge. Think about ways for how to mitigate the impulse in the future. Make it really fucking difficult to get to your self-harm tools. I'm talking annoyingly difficult. If it is too inconvenient when the impulse comes, you're less likely to follow through. But it's been a year, so you might have your own system. Let's refine it more. This is not the end.

It might be someday, but it is not toady and we are going to fight for tomorrow.

It is up to you how you talk about it. I tend to think it's better to speak about it when you have a clear head, but sometimes you need someone there when you're going down. I get that. Just understand that not everyone has encountered or lived this. And even if they have, they might still say the wrong thing because they simply don't know what to say or they end up saying what they would like to hear, but that doesn't mean that is what you want to hear. And sometimes you don't even know what you want to hear. It's a fucking mess. I know.

Despite all that, you want to tell him and I think you should, because he can't understand you unless he has at least a glimpse of what is going on in your head. Please don't put the pressure on him to have the answers. There are no answers anyway. Instead, come to the conversation with ways that he can support you or brainstorm them together. What are the things you want him to say? What can he do to help you get your mind off it? What can he and you do to prevent or lessen the stressors? What are some signs you exhibit when you're especially anxious or impulsive? Are there patterns? Specific days / times / cycles? He will be less scared if he feels more prepared and knows you better.

I hope it doesn't happen in the future, but if it does, you are not shit. You might act shitty sometimes, but not that does not mean all the work you've done so far is for naught. Finding your signs is one of the most important things you can do. Try various solutions. Don't get discouraged if one doesn't work. Trust me, the same solution / distraction / what worked last time will not work every time and that is okay. Humans are changing creatures. We may have patterns but we also have the ability to break the ones we no longer want by reframing how we think about them and changing our mental environment. This is not all you are.

It is part of you but it will not be the end of you.

Trust me. You have already begun the change. You can talk about it and that, in it of itself, means you are not weak. I might be a random, but I'm also not, hm? I'm not a therapist, but I've lived it. Heh, listen to Yoongi. Future's gonna be okay. One day, you'll look back and see how far you've come. It's murky now, but the fog and the clouds will lift. You have the tools to move forward. You can, and will, do this.

[billikatchoo]

solar sentience

“Billiiiiii!!”

I heard her call my name from across the street. I hadn’t seen Marusya since Porto. I had to stop myself from running out into traffic to greet her. i had made that mistake before and my knee still gives me trouble. but once there was a break in the traffic i dashed.

she saw me coming and opened her arms to embrace me. i ran into her with such velocity that she fell back, luckily catching both of us because i wouldn’t have been able to.

“i missed you so much, Marusya.” i made no effort to stop the tears from flowing from my eyes. “it’s been too long.”

“we talked for a hour yesterday, you goofball.” we did. we talked on the phone often and had a bad habit of losing track of time. even just to establish when and where we’d meet led us to a long tangent about my travel frustrations. “but it’s so nice to see that smile again.” i grinned even harder.

Marusya led me to the cafe. she had been staying in the city the past few months with friends i would meet later that evening. i was lucky enough that my work brought me to Europe, and luckier still that my path crossed with hers. it seemed predestined.

she took me to her favorite cafe. she loved the pastries here and that was absolutely enough for me. the weather was beautiful today so we sat on the terrace. i found it somewhat overstimulating to be honest. i was distracted by the visibility of the old and intricate architecture that populated the landscape of this part of town. that’s to say nothing of all the people and traffic noise outside, but i did my best to focus on our conversation. it was all i wanted. that and a cigarette. i was surrounded by Europeans smoking over their coffees and i knew it was only a matter of time before i broke my streak. it wasn’t a long streak anyhow.

“i can’t believe it’s been three years already. it’s surreal.”

“i know. it feels at once like yesterday and a lifetime ago that we met.” 

we worked together while we were both in school in Santa Barbara. we bonded quickly over our mutual hobbies and interests. primarily music and philosophy. in that time in our life we both desperately needed someone to talk to.

“yeah, honestly i can’t believe this is how things turned out for us. if you had told me then this is where we’d end up, i’d have laughed. and probably made sure it didn’t.”

“then i'm glad i didn’t tell you.” Marusya smiled. i couldn’t help but smile back. Marusya continued, “i’m sorry again though. i still feel responsible for how things played out in Washington.”

“it hardly matters at this point though. Terra gets released in a few months; i’m sure she won’t hesitate to forgive you.”

“i hope you’re right. i hope she’s as gracious as you’ve been.” Marusya stared into her tea. i hated to see her look so guilty. she deserved to be at peace.

“gracious? i had nothing to forgive, no matter what you tell me.” years ago she had been instrumental in my decision to transition. for that i owed her my life. i would never shake that feeling, even if she was responsible for my wife’s prison sentence. but that was between them.

Marusya started to get emotional, but she was better at keeping it at bay than i was. “i still have a hard time talking about it. i wanted to today, but now i don’t know if i can.”

“well damn, i could’ve brought my cellular then,” i joked. Marusya had asked me to leave it at my hotel. i knew the routine from our community organizing days. if we hadn’t been so diligent about our comms procedures she would be with Terra now, and i’d likely never see either released.

“have you heard from anyone since Terra’s sentencing?”

“no, i thought it best to cut ties with them. i didn’t want to push my luck. but i miss a few of them.”

“maybe when Terra’s back you’ll hear from them."

“i hope not. for her sake.”

“how are things between the two of you anyway? as good as always i hope.”

“actually they’re not. we stopped speaking. or writing letters rather.”

“no! what? why? what happened between you two?”

“she admitted to cheating on me in the clink.”

“what? you lie. tell me you’re lying.”

“i wish i was.”

“are you two done for good?”

“oh god no. at least i hope not. im just upset and we agreed it best that we don’t speak again until she’s up for parole.”

“at least that’s soon.”

“not soon enough.”

“it should’ve been me.”

“you should’ve been the one she cheated with? yeah honestly i’d’ve preferred that.”

“actually Lake did say that they’d forgive an infidelity only if it was her of all people.”

“what? seriously?”

“yeah, Terra has that effect on more people than you realize. i never told you about it because i didn’t want you to feel threatened.”

“i wouldn’t’ve felt threatened.”

“...or get any ideas.”

“okay, fair.”

“i still should’ve taken that rap for her. i never got to apologize.”

“you will one day. one day soon.”

“crazy how one little mistake could have such consequences.”

“just be grateful that was the only mistake you made.”

“i am. and thanks again.”

“for what? i didn’t do anything for you.”

“you saved me.”

“Terra saved you. i just played along.”

“then extend my thanks.”

“i’ve thanked her enough.”

i was growing tired of thinking about about my last days with the both of them. i was at my wits’ end. i excused myself to bum a cigarette from another patron. Marusya used the opportunity to get another tea.

it felt good to smoke again, and to see Marusya face to face, even if we still had some tensions to iron out. we had been unable to discuss it directly, on the chance that a bug might overhear. Marusya was still wanted by the FBI for her connection to the Nerysian Resistance Cell.

i inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill me, and consume me. the nicotine made me feel light, made it hurt less to relive the past.

the Nerysians were the cell responsible for the assassination of Chief Justice Robert Jackson, the first Supreme Court Justice to be assassinated in the country’s history, but not the last. it seems like a minor incident after the events that followed, and i spent a long time hoping that the FBI agreed. luckily i have yet to be proven wrong.

ultimately, the only Nerysian who would do time in connection to that crime was Terra. just our luck. our friend Lake who pulled the trigger was murdered by police on sight. sadly, the trigger was attached to a pistol registered in Terra’s name. she had given her gun to Marusya when there was a string of robberies in her building. Marusya, in the midst of returning it, left it in the trunk of Lake’s car, which was commonly used for Nerysian activity. this led to it being mixed in with the unmarked arms that had shared the trunk that evening. the next morning Lake had taken that gun of all guns.

after recovering Lake’s body and Terra’s gun, it was only a matter of time before they came for her too. rather than implicate others, Terra took responsibility. the rest of the cell took the cue to go into hiding. we had covered our tracks well enough that the only charge they could pin to her was giving Lake the gun. she even convinced the court that she knew nothing of the assassination plans. they never knew of the other illegal rifles and pistols that Lake had access to. they never knew the truth of the Nerysians.

however, they did know that Marusya and Lake shared a house. scared that she could be used to expose an entire network of revolutionaries, Marusya fled the country. i helped her escape to Europe, by way of Portugal, where i had enough connections and spoke the language well enough to get her a stack of Euros, a fake passport and a train ticket to get deeper into the continent. she took refuge with her leftist connections from her post grad years in Eastern Europe. she seems to like it here, but it was hard to tell under all her grief.

Marusya returned, tea in one hand and pastry in the other, as i finished my cigarette.

“you smoked that so fast.”

“yeah, i should’ve savored it.”

“don’t make the same mistake with this,” she remarked handing me the pastry. “do you want to talk about something else? i think the heavy convos can wait.”

we sat to resume our convo. “yes, please. did you have something in mind?”

“yes!” Marusya’s face lit up, her demeanor shifting immediately. “i was reading earlier about the new advancements in cold fusion tech.”

“really?” this was a topic we both had followed since scientists started making advancements when we were in college. it was one thing that gave us hope for our global future.

“yes! they’re creating more and more energy everyday.” her enthusiasm comforted me. “it’s so exciting.”

“where is this happening?”

“at a new nuclear research facility in Vienna.”

“very cool. it’s about time.”

“i agree, it’s a shame that it took such extreme global circumstances to motivate the EU to fund it. but better late than never.”

“definitely. i just can’t help but be concerned with how this tech could be privatized and capitalized. this could solve so many problems across the globe, but that idea feels naive.”

“yeah, we need to be careful with these utopian ideas. every utopia is a dystopia for someone after all.”

“no argument there, but i don’t know what we will do if the people in power choose utopia. it seems almost certain.”

“we will feast upon their flesh,” Marusya replied flatly. “wasn’t that always the plan?” she looked at me earnestly, her eyes wide, as she pulled apart a piece of the pastry.

“yes, but i still pray it never comes to that.”

“too bad your prayers haven’t gotten a response. im sure the sun would know what’s in store for us.”

i thought that was a odd thing to say, at least for Marusya. “what do you mean?”

“wait, did you not hear that the sun is sentient? do you not read the news while you’re on tour?”

“i stopped reading the news when Terra left.”

“she didn’t leave. she was taken from you.”

“don’t remind me.”

“oh sorry. you’re right.”

“what are you talking about then?”

“okay so a few weeks ago some researchers published some really fascinating data that i thought you’d have heard about.”

“it’s been hard to keep up with all the extraterrestrial science that’s been happening since the shattering.”

“yes, definitely. but this is more legit than a lot of the speculation that’s coming out these days. essentially, astrophysicists were able to prove that within the sun there is energy flowing between atoms. and that this energy flows in patterns remarkably similar to the flow of electricity between neurons in the human brain.”

“oh, that is interesting.”

“isn’t it?” Marusya’s enthusiasm always filled me with joy. i missed seeing that in her face for so long.

“what exactly are we supposed to make of that though?”

“well, essentially the prevailing interpretation is that the sun is functioning like a brain, but given that the mass of the sun is so much larger than a brain, there’s practically infinitely more synapses with infinitely more connections, so to speak. and the conclusion researchers are coming to is that the sun is ‘hyper-sentient’ and is observing and on some level comprehending the universe that surrounds it.”

i was stunned. i didn’t know how to respond to that information.

Marusya continued, “i mean obviously we’ll never be capable of understanding exactly how the sun ‘thinks’ or how it experiences reality, or whatever hyper-sentience might imply. but the implications are fascinating.”

“you’re right. i was shocked. i don’t even know what to say.”

“really? i thought you’d have something to say given your sun worshiping tendencies. i really surprised you didn’t hear about it.”

“well, this is validating. i feel like i already knew somehow.”

“maybe somehow we all did. we’re all waves on one ocean anyway. the sun is just like a tsunami.” 

i really liked this conjecture. i knew Marusya thought about life along these lines and i knew that she was right about the nature of reality. “but given that our sun is just one star of one hundred billion, and that’s just within our galaxy, are they theorizing that all stars are sentient?”

“yes, that’s exactly the conclusion they’ve come to. all stars have been reclassed as ‘hyper–sentient beings.’ they’re already calling them ‘HSBs’ and it’s opening an entire new subfield of astrophysics. evidently our search for extraterrestrial life had too narrow of a scope.”

“does this mean they’ll finally stop looking for little green men?” Marusya and i had both long considered this a futile effort and a waste of ever-dwindling resources.

“almost definitely not. everyone still wants to know who built the moon.” Marusya said this almost as if she did as well.

“they want to know who they can declare war on.”

“sure, but maybe we need to be humbled. as a species.” Marusya was right. the hubris of man had gotten out of hand in the past decade, saying nothing of course of the centuries that preceded it.

i nodded as i ate the last bite of pastry. Marusya was right about them, and i’m sure she was right about everything else. but i needed time to process it.

i looked to the sun now. or as much as i could given its unbearable brightness this time of day, this time of year. its rays illuminated big fluffy clouds, clouds taller and wider than any castle in Europe. i wondered if it could feel me, if it could feel the warmth that i felt in that moment, from radiation that connected us directly. i felt so small then; i was one of nearly two million people in this city alone. this city that were its area transposed onto the surface of the sun, would appear so miniscule it would not be detectable by even our most advanced instruments and our smartest scientists.

could it feel what i was feeling? did we only exist as an extension of it? as a cosmic appendage that was willed into existence so that this HSB may be capable of experiencing its own beauty? if so, did that change anything for us? would that bring us to reassess, re-examine, and ask ourselves, “how do we live?”

i knew i wouldn’t come to any worthwhile conclusions now, or soon, or maybe even as long as i lived. we were in a new era of gods greater than ourselves, and for once in human history plainly observable to exist. so why did this bring our own existence into question? i wanted to get into all the questions that raced through my mind then and there, but it was time to leave the cafe. maybe it was best to give myself time to collect my thoughts, and to reground myself with the exciting prospect of exploring a very old city with my oldest friend. Marusya always had a way of bringing me back to reality, no matter how strange reality became.

“what do you want to do first?” Marusya asked me, smiling at me big as ever. i knew from that alone we would be alright.

“buy a pack of cigarettes,” i responded without missing a beat. for the first time since i landed in Europe i had other things on my mind, but i knew from experience that relapsing on my nicotine addiction would keep me from relapsing on the designer psychedelics that captured my youth and were widely available on the continent. i wanted now more than ever to dive back in, to take a hero’s dose and explore this fresh perspective of the cosmos. i wanted to reconnect with our celestial father, who gave us life and watched closely over us. i wanted to, but i knew i couldn’t let Marusya see me like that, not again. i knew if i wasn’t clean when Terra was released there would be no prospect of her returning to me. i knew that the two of them meant more to me than any drug. on second thought, i decided against the cigarettes, and Marusya led me deeper into this city as old as our measurement of years themselves, guiding me further into the past as she once had guided me into my present. we talked and we laughed and we sang and we cried, and we rekindled the friendship we had sacrificed for the greater good of humanity. for the first time in years, it felt like a worthy sacrifice.

[hope-urok]

haunted

240317

i notice it is more prominent when i see you. when i don't see you much it still lingers. is that normal?

i don't know if it's because i feel so bad and guilty that it's haunting me. isn't it so dumb that i'm the one that broke it off and then when we tried again i started dating 3 months after? or maybe i'm just living my life? i can't hold myself against getting into a relationship because we weren't in touch. yes we said waiting but we did also say to keep in touch and it didn't happen. this was so long ago and i'm still thinking about it. i can't help these feelings but surely i can identify what sort of feelings at this point but i really don't know.

is it the lack of closure? because we barely talk i barely know anything about his life at the moment? and i want to be friends again, do i? it's not been like this with anyone else. we're better now but i'm still having the same thoughts.

it's so hard for me to act normal around him. this has been our normal for the past few years. it's a cycle. it's a whole 8 seasons. i liked him early on in our friendship when we first met. but he had a gf. after they broke up, i tried to go for it, we went to ball, i was too forward. i got into a relationship. few years later, he starts to have feelings for me and we start dating soon after i got out of that relationship. he moves down to hastings. it doesn't work. we break up. the next year we have camp, i visit him, things reignite but doesn't continue when i go back home. since then it's been business conversations, awkwardness and ignoring.

what im tryna say is we have not acted like proper friends since before we started dating. even then it was a bit confusing. even then I couldn't talk to him much without feeling things. i remember wanting to distance myself because of my feelings. and now it's the same thing.

for whatever reason, it is a lot of effort, not natural, anxiety-inducing to try talk to you or make a conversation. it's easier when it's about youth. but when I see you I go blank. my brain doesn't work. and yes, it probably is because of our history and I'm nervous to talk to you. not that i still have feelings right? i barely know you now. how can i say i still like you.

to be frank... i miss you. i am jealous of people who can talk to you casually and normally. i want to be one of your closest friends again. i want to know what goes on in your life on a regular basis. but, if you are seeing someone, I don't want to know. at this stage, I could not attend your wedding. there's also the fact that you were in aus during valentines so that's a big tell imo. we'll see how we are in a few years, hopefully, I can get to a place where we can have a pure friendship and I'll be happy for you when you do date or enter the seminary haha.

i do have a feeling that a conversation over coffee would fix this. i guess I'm not mature enough right now. some day. is it pride? a part of me feels it would be selfish to ask to talk if it's just to say I'm sorry and talk things out. it's also been so so long...

there are indicators that i still have feelings. did i not truly heal? the regular dreams i have of you have to stop. every song along the lines of 'the one that got away' hurts. and there must be a reason that love, rosie and the hows of us are my comfort movies. these all feed my delusions.

i never thought that when we separated that we weren't meant to be. i always thought we'd come back to each other. but we're intertwined in each other's lives so much lately and things are still weird so i don't know what that means.

i have to remind myself that i am making this really dramatic in my head. it's probably not that deep. i always say time will tell but shouldn't it be my turn? i don't know if i'll ever be ready for that, i reckon i need to push myself one day. one day....

in the mean time, working on myself sounds really good. i need to prioritise that more. more good habits!

[caterkinnie]

(I don't know how to link up things so hopefully you get which post I mean TwT) Just read your post about the unmotivated and lazy reader and the way you wrote those characters was so canon I'm still hurt (On the positive side you're a really great writer-) So can I get a comfort version of it with the same characters +Jamil?. Reader is willing to change her habits if someone is willing to help them? (Habits are hard to change especially if it's a coping mechanism QuQ)

Comfort ver. of this request

summary: You basically feel unmotivated most of the time, which some of these guys have something to say about that. But you're willing to change! You just don't know where to start, how do they react?

genre: comfort, a bit of angst in Jamil's part but you needed the context!!!

warnings: mentions of breaking up in Jamil's part but nothing serious, mentions of insecurities

some of these are short but i genuinely don't think it'd be too complicated for them </3 also trying to get back at writing since i only got 3 tests left!!!

Riddle is strict with you, though, not as much as Vil, he's a lot more softer around you, it's not that he wants to!

As i said before, you might actually help him to stop overworking himself a bit, maybe it was an agreement for you forcing him to take more breaks + him helping you get better coping mechanisms.

It's very healthy for both of you, he's patient as he can bring himself to really REALLY scold you since you're… GENUINELY trying. It might be a situation where you both feel similar but have extremely different ways to cope.

Riddle also has some insecurities so if you ever feel bad for not putting enough effort he'll try to awkwardly comfort you and find a solution that makes you feel better + you can stop him from spending his entire day working with only his scheduled 15 minutes breaks.

In conclusion, this would be very good for both of you.

He's very happy to hear you want to change your habits.

To be completely honest he's the only one who, while he WILL absolutely support you and be by your side the entire time, if you stayed the way you're he wouldn't mind as much as the others.

I don't have much to say about him, sorry. I just think he's very supportive the whole time and will tutor you if you have problems with school; invite you to workout with him; reassure you when you feel down etc. etc.

I actually have to mention he'll try to stop you from getting similar coping mechanisms to him, yes, he'll help you get better ways to cope, but don't become a perfectionist like him please.

Like Riddle, but this time it would only work if he started helping you change your habits BEFORE falling in love with you.

At first he would be constantly scolding you, which could end in a situation of you getting tired and telling him you want to improve!! you just don't know where to start and oh God he takes it personal.

He's very insistent on guiding you, and while he IS helpful and KNOWS what he's doing, we all know Vil is… not the nicest person whenever he has to make criticism.

He's VERY honest, which could lead to a misunderstanding, but in general he's genuinely trying to help.

He's a tsundere and at first, when Vil starts falling for you he doesn't realize he loves you. It's just… you're just trying your best to improve and it makes him feel proud. He feels good and you start hearing his compliments more often and he starts scolding you less, and when HE DOES it feels different, it's not harsh anymore… It feels softer, and he doesn't realize how vulnerable he starts to be around you.

I think this situation would be one of the best ways to start a relationship with him.

I think it's possible for him to be in a relationship with him if you're like that, BUT funny you asked because it would only work if you're willing to change.

He was happy at first, didn't really mind reminding you to do your homework, or not taking care of yourself in general. But slowly he started to feel…. bad, he felt guilty for feeling bad, but as time went on and you needed more and more and more of his help he started to feel like taking care of you was another chore.

Don't get me wrong, in normal situations one of his love languages is (sadly) acts of service, he doesn't mind doing things for you, he actually enjoys it! The point is he doesn't want to feel like… like he HAS to take care of you, y'know?

Due to his situation, he'd prefer someone who's independent AND doesn't mind his help.

The thing is, he doesn't want to feel like he's obligated to help you. Which is why he's quick to confront you about it, being very straightforward with the fact he doesn't want to be in a relationship with… someone like that, and that if you want to change he's willing to help you, ONLY if you're serious about changing.

Don't get me wrong, I know it sounds bad but it's seriously not good for his mental health. help this is not very comforting SORRY but you needed the context

Ok the comfort part <3, he's patient, honestly one of the best ones for this. Jamil is not only helpful, he's also one of the softer guys about this. If you make a mistake and get all unmotivated he's very quick to reassure you and do everything and anything to lift your mood. Yes, he's usually inexpressive and awkward around his partner, but the way he tries his best to convey his feelings to you just to make you feel better is just… He just loves you a lot.

It makes him so happy you decided to change for him, Jamil is very… starved for love, in general.

Overall he's a very good and patient boyfriend in this situation!

[vannybarber]

The Prenup: Final Chapter

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

You lied.

You didn't come back the day after. Or the next day. In fact, you stayed at the hotel for almost a week. You didn't stay in the same clothes of course. You went out to buy everything you needed. Clothes, hygiene products, prenatal vitamins. You were the saddest and most ridiculous thing to walk this earth.

Lisa and Scott eventually came over with your permission of course. You couldn't say no to them. You weren't upset with them.

"How've you been, sweetie?" They both look for your answer, trying to read your face.

"To tell you the truth, I actually feel like an asshole. I honestly realize how immature I was. Chris definitely was, but I was stooping to that level myself. But I won't admit to him just yet. I want him to recognize how immature he was too."

It was crazy to even hear it from your own mouth. But you had time to think it over. You recognized how stupid you looked living in a hotel because you couldn't put your immaturity aside.

"Well this might be a shock to you, but I had a talk with him also and it might've did something." You make eye contact with her and your eyebrows jump. Indeed, you were surprised. She continues.

"I know you guys will be able to resolve this. But you need to try. You've have been together too long to let this get in between you two. I think he finally understands." She sets her hand on yours, which was placed in your lap.

He finally understood? You had to see this for yourself. You hoped to everything that she was right. You actually wanted to fix this and he needed to be on board and feel the same way.

It occurred to you after some time that his points were actually valid. It was just the way he came across is all. You were in your own feelings and took it really personal, which was understandable, but you got stubborn. Even though he got a prenup for his own reasons, you felt as if he didn't love you as much as you love him.

This could all be fixed, but he needed to set some boundaries with Megan. He had no choice. Wait till she finds out about the baby. Evidently none of the other Evans' knew about the baby because it was never brought up. You secretly thank Chris for keeping that between you guys, even though he was most likely still upset that you weren't gonna tell him about the baby right away.

You both are grown ass adults and you're having a child together. This bullshit needed to end.

"Oh my gosh this is great !! All my shit talking did some good." Lisa clears her throat at him. "Along with Ma's great advice of course." You just laugh. You loved your family.

"I think I'm ready to see him. Scratch that. I am ready to see him. I want my fianceé back." You smile and grasp your hands together. You don't think you've ever seen them smile so hard.

"Oh yeah we know you're pregnant." You stop smiling and stare at Scott like you've been caught in the cookie jar. "You know Chris can't keep his big mouth shut." Well that's a Gemini for you.

"Now its really important that you solve this. You're bringing another life into the world!" Lisa exclaims. "Plus I'm gonna have another grandbaby!!"

You giggle and shake your head. "Well we need to head over there right now then!"

Little did you know Chris was on the exact same page as you. Down to every line and every word.

He has always been indecisive and this situation really forced him to take some responsibility and rethink his behavior. You had all the reason to feel the way you did, his intentions clearly being missed by you. Whatever they even were.

He also decided that he was going to set Megan straight about his personal life and respecting you. You were his future wife. And now that you're bringing a baby into the world, she definitely needed to be put in check. He can't even believe how he allowed her to disrespect you like this.

Now he only hoped that you'd want to sort this out and forgive him. He needed you no matter what he said. He did make up excuses because your relationship was too good to be true. He's never had a connection like this before. He never allowed it, but clearly it was for a reason because it give you a chance to come in his life and completely change it for the better.

When he had gotten home from visiting you, his feelings were all over the place. Upset that you didn't come back with him and guilty for making you feel the way you did. He just felt like he was doing the right thing because Megan told him to. Deep down inside, he really didn't even want to get the stupid prenup anyway.

"So where's Y/N? Is she okay?" Shanna asked for everyone. They all expected you to come back too. They didn't know you were this stubborn.

"She's alright. She said she wasn't ready to come back just yet. Which I completely understand. But I feel like a failed once again." He slumps on the couch and lies back. "I don't deserve her at all."

"Now Chris, you know what you have. And what you have is good. Better than anything you had before. You two were made for each other. You're a hard head and I know you're not giving up this easily" Lisa says to him, taking a seat to his right.

"You know she's pregnant." He really shouldn't have said that and he knows it, but he can't keep a secret to save his own life. Everyone in the room gasps. "I found the tests in the bathroom. If I didn't go in there and discover them myself, she wasn't planning on telling me yet."

"Well she probably wanted to fix this before adding more on top of it." Scott adds. And he was absolutely correct.

"Well I'm happy for you! But I you still have this going on." Lisa's voice goes from excited to monotone. She's super happy, but she wished this could have been evented at a much better time.

"Well this could've made things better...or worse." Chris throws his NASA cap on the couch angrily.

Carly speaks up.

"You and Scott should go visit her. I doubt she'll turn it down."

"Yeah Ma. We should see where her heads at. Maybe her mind will change with our advice" Scott agrees. He loves you as a sister. Anything threatening that would have to be put to death immediately.

"Guys, I don't know about that. She seemed pretty definite on how she felt." Chris didn't want to make it worse than what it was, but he always found a way to do that anyway.

"Chris come on" Scott drags out. "We have to try."

"Y/N is a smart girl. She knows what she needs to do and it will come to her. I know it'll work out. And when it does, you'll realize your love is inevitable." Lisa smiles knowing she is absolutely right.

Now she just waits for it all to fall in place.

You were currently outside in the driveway of your house. You drove back there in your car with Lisa and Scott behind you. When you arrived, you hopped in her car to discuss how this was going to go.

Looking at the property, you admit missed your place, but you allowed your infantilism to get in the way.

"Okay he's in there, but he doesn't know you're coming back." Scott speaks lowly from the back seat.

"Wait you didn't tell him?" You snap around mystified. Why did they not tell him?

"Because we wanted it to be a surprise. Well I wanted it to be a surprise." He corrects himself when Lisa throws him a look through the rear view mirror.

"Well um okay. Then this just has to play out itself. Hopefully he's happy to see me..?" You were unsure yourself. The little intimate moment you had before he left couldn't dictate how he'd feel now.

"I'm positive he is, but you won't know unless you get up in there. Go ahead! We'll get your stuff," Lisa encourages. You think she's more excited than anyone. You thank her with a kiss on the cheek and high five Scott then head out of the car. You walk up the driveway to the front door. You didn't get the key out your bag so you rang the doorbell.

A few moments, the door is jerked open. You automatically know he didn't even look through the peephole before he opened the door. He needs to stop doing that.

You appear in his vision and he pauses.

"Y/N? Baby?" Incredulity is all in his voice.

"Yes, that is my name." You giggle. "Can I come in?"

"Uh of course! You live here, ya know." He steps back so you can walk inside. Walking through the threshold, you look around the house as if it was foreign to you. For whatever reason, you expected some dramatic changes. One thing that didn't change is his shoes in the middle of the floor. His bad habit.

"Chris what did I say about your shoes in the walkway?" You scold him and move them to the corner with his others. You can't count how many times you've almost fell face first because of his shoes in the way and truthfully, you not watching where you're going.

"Sorry I forget a lot" he says sheepishly with a tiny smile on his face stopping behind you. This makes your corners turn up as well.

You stand facing him and him facing you. Neither of you say anything. You can't tell if it is because you don't know what to say or that you just really missed each other's faces. Before you do speak, Lisa and Scott are inside with your things.

"Oh guys just put that stuff on the couch. Thank you again!" You point to the sofa, absentmindedly moving closer to Chris.

"We need to talk." Turning back to him, you nod. You remember why you're here in the first place. You needed to put an end to this.

"Right. Patio?" You always go out there to have conversations or just to chill with each other. He nods his head and turns to his family.

"We're gonna go outside and talk for a bit. Okay?"

"Oh yes take all the time you need," Lisa exclaims, shooing you both off. Scott is grinning himself. You just smile and walk to the back door onto the patio. Chris follows quickly behind.

Once you both get outside, you sit down. You wouldn't say it was awkward, but there was definitely some tension. You decide to break it.

"I'm really sorry, Chris."

"Baby I'm so sorry."

Guess he wanted to as well. You were about to talk, but he spoke up first.

"I want to apologize first. I was completely wrong here. I was being an asshole and I deserved everything you said to me. And everything Scott said to me as well." He rolls his eyes at that part. You could only imagine the dragging Scott was giving him. "I allowed Megan to disrespect you and that was a dick move. No one should allow their partner to be treated like that. You're were going to my wife and I stooped that low. I'm truly sorry." He searches in your eyes for something to let him know that you forgave him, knew that he was really sorry at least.

You look away about to let the flood come like Noah and the Arc. You've been waiting to hear that for a while and you knew he meant every word. But now it was your turn. Clearing your throat and wiping your eyes, you speak up.

"This isn't completely your fault, baby." You take his hands in yours. "I am also guilty as well. I acted so immature and didn't even truly try to resolve this because I wanted to victimize myself the whole time. Although you were acting like a huge dick, I still played a part. I am so sorry for not planning on telling you about the baby. That was unfair of me. I know that you love me and that I am important to you, so if you still want me to sign the prenup, I'll do it."

Hearing the words come from your mouth surprised you both. He didn't think you'd ever give in and you sure as hell were making sure you wouldn't. But here you are agreeing to it because you love him that much and wanted to make him happy. Your relationship would work so it would never come to be used. You had strong faith in that.

"That's another thing." He shakes his head and you're now confused. "I don't want you to sign a prenup. We're not doing that. I already plan on talking to Megan about it. And I'm going to address her on knowing her place working for me. Since you know that I love you, so fucking much, I don't need to worry about money. Nor a divorce. Like Ma said, we were made for each other and I'll be damned if I let you get away from me."

"So no prenup?" You needed to hear it again.

"No prenup, love." He grins at you, squeezing your hands. You pull from his grip and jump up busting out random dance moves. His mouth is ajar.

"No prenup! Ain't signing no prenup! Lalalalalaaaaa! No prenup!" After your little dance number, you sit back down with no shame. You needed that.

"I'm glad that you finally came to your senses, Christopher. Your mother taught you well" you say in a pompous manner. He just can't help but laugh. You truly were something else.

"We have a little one coming soon and we have to be out best selves for them. Pinky promise each other that we never ever argue and not fix it in a matter of 25 minutes ever again?" He holds out his pinky finger waiting for yours.

"I promise." You wrap yours around his and grin. "So we're good?"

"Well there is one more thing." He stands up and reaches in his pocket. He pulls out your engagement ring and gets on one knee. Just when you had no tears left to cry.

"Y/N, baby, will you be my fianceé again?" You laugh breathlessly and nod your head.

"Yes, you meatball!" He slips the ring back on your finger and you jump in his arms. Almost knocking him over, he grabs your face and kisses you. You wasted zero time kissing him back because you needed it. It had been so long.

Finally pulling away and balancing your breaths like you just ran a 5k, you both make eye contact and burst out into laughter.

"Come on. Let's go tell them." He grabs your hands and you rush inside the house. Heading into the living room you see them both watching with anticipation.

"So?" Scott speaks and they both stand up.

"Guess who's getting married ?!"

HELP-😌 im so proud of myself. i decided to end this with a nice fluff. it was well deserved. i read you guy's comments and it influenced how i wrote it. some of you mentioned immaturity in y/n and that was really valid. and the point about the prenup making sense.

thank you so much for reading. i am honestly so grateful that you guys liked it. i didn't expect it to blow up like it did. im crying now so bye ✌🏽🤧❤

tags:

@mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessycatth @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @dauntless2022 @allboutdatmarvel @ineedpineapple @illyrianprincess @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @marianas-studyblr @obliviatevamps @thevelvetseries @coffeebooksandfandom @shamelessfangirl-3 @quietmyfearswith @kissme-hs @lvgllre @arabescapr @careless-intuition @lady-x-red @donutloverxo @princess-evans-addict

[pompadourpink]

Hello mothership, hny! I was wondering if you had any tips as for keeping resolutions and making good progress instead of getting discouraged after 3wks.. thanks!

Hello dear,

I suppose I do! Turning a bad habit into a good habit is very hard and it is preferable to create something new as a replacement instead. I also believe that we tend to be very mean to ourselves when it's not necessary and actually counter-productive: if tough love was the way, it would have worked a long time ago!

(I posted this on IG on Monday, after my drawing session, the first in, I'm afraid, about twenty years. It's been itching, all this time, and here I am, finally.)

You'll be more likely to reach your goals if you phrase them positively. It's not "stop eating sugar you fat piece of crap", it's "eat more vegetables so you can feel better, sleep better, get fewer headaches, and stop constantly feeling guilty".

Today is the 5th of January, and here's my Notion page:

I still have to read a bit of Mrs Dalloway, and I'll be done.

At the end of the day, we can all do some version of this. We all can find ten minutes to follow a yoga video in the evening, half an hour a week to learn something, an hour to meal prep on Sunday while watching a movie, and a book to read on our way to and back from work - if that's what we want to do.

I think it's very important to find out what it is that you really want. You don't have to read Mrs Dalloway because I mentioned it. You don't have to learn Russian because it's fancy to know Tolstoy. You don't have to lose weight to look like a baddie. If you've been trying to do something for a while and never got started, it is likely that you don't really want to do it. You also don't have to take up new things constantly.

Maybe you just want to get better at baking. Maybe you can bake something new every week, or make something extravagant for someone's birthday, or get yourself some fancy tool every month so you can get better at it, or start a business, find a baking class, get a buddy to compete with, etc.

Focus on what you love and what makes you happy. Don't be the person who looks back when they are on their deathbed and realises they've only done what others expected of them, so they could be accepted - and it didn't even work.

Love,

Mum

(PS: the bath thing on Notion is skincare, pls have mercy, I do shower.)

[benlaksana]

2021

It's been roughly a year and a half since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic here in Indonesia, and I've recently been trying to understand where I'm at. Not physically, as in physical space, but mentally and probably existentially. What is the state of my mind? I am aware that I've become somewhat bitter, my late nights are sometimes riddled with anxiety for what the next day may bring and reoccurring personal-collective grief has at times, and recently more often than I would like to admit, numbed me.

This may probably be my mind's automatic coping mechanism seeing all this death mainly as a result of how my government has failed us, its citizens, especially during a time of crises. And I really need to stress this point: how my government has failed us Indonesians during the times we need it the most and I very much believe that it is because of this why many of us Indonesians are in constant misery and haunted by that feeling of despair. If chronic physical pain causes constant daily anguish, I am not surprised if chronic physical and mental pain caused by structural violence causes persistent misery as well.

I'm somewhat fortunate in this regard, I'm grateful that I've learned ways to keep my sanity in check. My contemplative practice is key for me. Honestly, I wouldn't have gotten far in life without it. I have many people to thank, but Art Buehler especially, my former professor in esoteric contemplative/meditative practices who reminded me and pointed a certain possible direction of where I should head when I sense a lost in my life's direction, is one those I should thank the most. I know this seems like an individualized response to structural oppression, and I don't intend to paint such a picture, but I do believe we need some kind of mental stability to keep on going. To survive if not thrive.

Art sadly passed away in 2019. I received an email about his passing. And come to think of it I never really did allow myself to properly grieve for his passing. I don't know why. To be told through a short concise email that someone you cared for died, without having the opportunity to properly say goodbye feels like that person never really passed away. It is horrible way to end relationships. A sudden cut, nothing finalized, and since goodbyes are relational, now nothing can really ever be concluded. I have to make amends with myself and only with myself. If I said goodbye yesterday, or if I say goodbye today or perhaps tomorrow, will it ever be enough for me?

Life is individual yet also relational. It's good to have friends, family, people that care for you or the odd mix of all three to get you through life. So although I have these array of tools to possibly help get me through life but if the people whom you look for some kind direction is no longer present, I'm just not sure for how long I can maintain it if I'm doing all this by myself. Will a breaking point come to me?

The mind is a fickle thing, and the mind is as strong as its habits. Bad habits, bad mind. Good habits, good healthy mind (no habits, no mind?). They also say that things that might happen, will indeed happen. It is just a matter of time. If so, how will I break? To what extent? For how long? What will change? What will I lose? Will there be something renewed? Will I come out the same person? Will I come out changed but for the worst?

This is one of the things that worries me. That certainty of uncertainty. The certainty of breaking, the uncertainty of when and of its form. Will I explode in sudden exasperation, engulfed in madness? Will it be a quick balloon pop yet a slow descend into meaninglessness? An unabashed diatribe rant towards someone I care? Something that's just a twitter post away from me on actually doing it. Will this be an opening, an opportunity for 'satori', a sudden lift of the 'veil', bringing about comprehension and understanding of the true nature of things? Questions, questions, questions, not much when it comes to answers, is all I have for now. To be hopeful is hard these days and with the wavering hope, very much coming and going like waves, it has become incredibly hard to even retain any semblance of kindness. That is something I do not want to actively become a habit of. Without hope, comes the cold embrace of fatalism that many on the 'left' are guilty of. Clutched by fatalism, empathy becomes harder to come by. I've seen it, and I have felt it.

I know that my eroding sense of hope is connected to my personal dreams. Specifically how it has become very hard to actualize it. Rara and I never really planned on staying in Indonesia for long. I was confident enough, a bit too confident come to think of it, that we will be out of Indonesia by 2021 the latest. A mere 2 1/2 years after our last stay in New Zealand. The plan was for me to continue my studies, getting into a Ph.D. program and of course a scholarship. That was our ticket out. Hoping that we'll be back to our old routine in Wellington, in and out the university's library, my head in books, loving our 'flatwhites' while regretting having too much of it, the usual stint doing some university tutoring, community organizing stuff, lazy gardening, out and about on the weekends tramping around Wellington and if Covid did not happen or/and maybe if my government handled things much, much better I think that would've been the case. Or at least I constantly would like to imagine that would be the case.

Yet here we are still in Indonesia, me struggling to do my Ph.D. through this wretched distant learning, initially in the comfort of my home yet steadily devolving into cabin fever. And Rara with her own struggles trying her best to get back on her feet as an aspiring musician. None of it is going as well as we had hoped for. All this while juggling trying our best to keep ourselves safe and our families and friends safe. Both of us have become direct witnesses how challenging this has been, physically and mentally. Both of us slowly grappling with the continual kick in the gut, the never ending structural absurdity, violently absurd.

That slow grueling realization of how fragile our lives are. Not just existentially. It is existentially precarious yet at the same time understanding that precariousness in many of its aspects is structurally and politically maintained. It is this political construction of precarity, which Isabell Lorey elaborates in her book State of Insecurity: Government of the Precarious, that angers and saddens us the most.

Lorey provides a nuanced approach in unpacking and differentiating this thing called being 'precarious'. The three dimensions of being precarious: precariousness, precarity and then precarization. On precariousness, Lorey draw's on Judith Butler's conceptualization of precariousness which she sees as existential, relational and inevitable. I'll insert my existential philosophy and Buddhist values here, to help me see and more importantly accept the transient nature of life and that impermanence or change is the only constant. Our lives, our bodies are destined to die and wither away. We humans are fragile mortal beings. The loss of life, the loss of one's identity, the loss of everything that makes us, us is unavoidable. It's also a 'relational' thing, as in it is also a shared experience. Everyone will experience it. It is the great equalizer some say.

Then we have precarity. Yes everyone dies, but the process of dying or even the process of grieving someone's death is dependent on what Lorey see as the “effects of different political, social and legal compensations of a general precariousness”. Some die at young age due to starvation, riddled with poverty and disease and have nothing or no one to ease their pain, others die surrounded by family and friends in a well-cared for hospital. Some have days or weeks to grieve, others have to go back to work the next day as she or he have no luxury to stop working even just for a moment and simply grieve. To stop working even for a day draws some closer to the possibility of death for the person or those dependent on the person working. This is the inequality of dying and grieving due to our social hierarchies. How fragile we are, is dependent on those social hierarchies.

And last we have Lorey's third dimension, governmental precarization which is the instrumentalization of insecurity by the government. In other words, the government using the idea and the reality of insecurity as a tool or device to control its citizens. The calculated, deliberate attempt by the government in destabilizing our lives in order for us to be easily governed. Insecurity, be it real or due to perceived constructed fear of insecurity is an effective governing tool. The fear of being labeled "useless and lacking in contribution to the nation-state". The genuine insecurity of not being able to get a job due to the false understanding that it is simply a result of an individual's laziness rather than due to systematic government policies. The deliberate attempt in making our lives constantly insecure, constantly on the edge, without us initially knowing it and when we do come to understand, the blame is on us. It is normalized and it is internalized.

This is not simply a social issue, it is a deeply existential one as well. We Indonesians have very little to make us feel safe at the moment. Covid and the government's response to it has severely limited our movements and it's not simply physical immobility, but also an existential one, the inability to even have the imagination that our lives are actually "going somewhere", towards a forward direction. Perhaps some sort of minute incremental progress, but progress nonetheless. This imagined mobility is what Ghassan Hage calls as "existential mobility" and this immobility suffered by many of us is what he also calls as "stuckedness".

Turning an often momentary or the ephemeral nature of a crisis into something prolonged and perhaps even permanent is another part of the strategy of governmental precarization. Our lives or jobs are always on the line and again coupled with the sick prevailing idea that we only have ourselves to find the solution. The crisis is permanent, we don't know why but we've been told that way, if we fail to overcome it is because of our personal inabilities thus proliferating and intensifying this sense of stuckedness.

Forcing us to accept whatever solution the government-messiah presents us with in order to relieve us from this suffering. From labour laws that normalizes precariousness even more, to oppressive new laws that limits our desire and ability to dissent, to including who or how our enemies are defined, easily accepting who is to blame for all this insecurity we are all suffering.

Be it the long dead Indonesian communists, the Chinese Indonesians and the racist perception of them being "selfish and greedy", the Indonesian Islamists - the kadruns and their conservatism, the "foreign forces" whomever they may be constantly trying to take over Indonesia, anyone or anything is to blame. Anyone but the Indonesian government and its affluent patrons. Insecurity and the fear that rises from it renders many of us easily governable and compliant.

This governmental precarization and this 'stuckedness', which Hage sees no longer as a possibility that may or may not happen but an "inevitable pathological state which has to be endured" is how Rara and I feel at the moment.

Rara and I feel our lives are going nowhere. We feel that our lives are stuck, constantly rotating in a hamster wheel trying our best to overcome our precariousness. No progress, no forward movement, no growth, just trying our best to survive from this sustained uncertainty. It's an awful feeling, paving way to existential dread. We are very much looking forward to moving back to New Zealand as soon as possible but with the conditions right now, that is something I can't even dare to imagine.

And although I am grateful that the weave of our privilege with at many times just pure sheer luck has kept us alive and physically well for the time being, we both now realize that we have hit a proverbial concrete wall here. Adding to the already precarious nature of life here in Indonesia, our line of work as a fledgling social science academic and aspiring artist and what Rara and I aspire to do socially, what we aspire to become, easily ends in stagnation if we intend to continue to live our lives in Indonesia. (I want to direct you to Social Science and Power edited by Vedi Hadiz and Daniel Dhakkidae to get the gist of what I'm trying to get at here.)

This is a hard pill to swallow, harder to write and even more so to act upon. I am existentially tied to Indonesia, my family and friends are here, my father is buried here and so will my mother. Memories of the distant past, the colloquial language when shitposting on social media, my mind and body have been shaped by Indonesia in ways I possibly do not even fully realize. This is why I oscillate between guilt towards others and guilt towards the self. I feel guilty for simply having an exit strategy when many others don't, I have the luxury of choice. Yet I also I feel guilty for feeling guilty about this, as it means I am also neglecting the well-being of myself, now and in the future. I need to work on this and find my bearings, being stuck in a guilty limbo won't get me anywhere.

And the future is far from stable, I wonder what is on the other end of surviving this pandemic? There is so much collective grief, collective anger and of course personal anger. All this will amount to something, I'm sure of that. Although I don't know what exactly, I'm not entirely confident this something will be good. John Keane's new book 'The New Despotism' comes into mind.

What do I personally do with all this anger? I’ve noticed how anger, especially when it is on the verge of hatred, morphs itself and easily descends into madness, into aggression and often showing itself, unawaringly to us, when the act of expressing anger happens. Your mind becomes instantly clouded, ending in mindless action. This inability to have control over oneself terrifies me. I already have so very little semblance of control over life in general at the moment, if I truly have no control over myself whatsoever, what then do I have?

And I wonder if it is a waste of time asking these pseudo-intellectual questions? I don't know, yet I do know I live in a society where it hones aggression and hostility, whether it be in physical and digital spaces, and I would like to draw myself away from all this at the moment before I transform myself into something I do not wish to be. Anger I can fully understand, and it is needed and useful. Yet to actively transform it into deep blinding hatred and sustain it daily, is something I feel psychologically destructive for me and I'm trying my best not to go on that path.

I rarely update this blog I know, but this blog has always been used as a personal chronicle of how much I have progressed, digressed or both. And I needed to write all this, because I've never been this least sure of what my life should be like and where it should go. I know I am not alone at this. This pandemic has destroyed the lives of many, our futures, our dreams, our sources of love and I hope that anyone of you reading this finds a way to get through it, doing anything you can do day in, day out.

I'm not sure it if amounts to anything. Maybe it won't, maybe it will, or maybe it has but maybe we just can't see it. All I can personally do for now, is to hold on to these 'maybes', and maybe, just maybe I'll get through this too.

“Where must we go...

We who wonder this Wasteland

in search of our better selves?”

- The First History Man, George Miller

[old-hyper-super-clover]

Squeeze that bunny tail!

Part 5 (final part)

Description: The RAD student council as well as the exchange students help out at a bar where, oops, the staff´s dress codes are those sweet bunny outfits that we all know and thirst for. The MCs, Violet and Clover, play a game of who can touch the most bunny tails over the evening without getting caught. Prepare for fluff, funny innuendos as well as my thirst over hot boys in bunny outfits.

This is the finale of this way too long "one shot". Find the prior parts here!

Story continues under the cut. You´re almost finished!!

Continuing to work at the bar for a while, Violet found a surprising guest on the other side of the counter.

“Clover! What are you doing here?"

Clover sank down on one of the chairs.

"A double shot, please" Clover joked, but probably wouldn't say no to a little refresher either.

"Tired?" Violet laughed, handing her a glass of water instead.

"Mhm..." Clover rubbed her face. "I´m slowly running out of energy... Well, how are your squeeze-points doing?"

They exchanged their data. While Violet was doing pretty well with a total of 17 points, Clover had (still) only gathered five points so far.

"Meh... I knew I'd loose" Clover mumbled.

"It's still not too late" Violet tried cheering her up. There's still plenty of time to touch Solom-"

"DONT." Clover shot her giggling friend a glare. "Look, it's not even anything personal, I just... Feel very weird inside when I imagine me walking up to Solomon like this."

Violet's smirk widened.

"You mean like... The fluttery feeling of butterflies in your stomach? Clover, could it be...?! That you lov-"

"I will eliminate you if you end this sentence."

She couldn't hide a smile at the joke, but soon Clover had to realise that her persistence to not squeeze Solomon's tail would have drastic consequences.

"You know...” Violet thought out loud at some point. "We never thought of a price for the winner of our challenge, did we?"

"... Nope."

The ideas kept processing in Violet's head. Then it hit her.

"Or maybe... Rather than thinking of a price, let's do a penalty for the loser."

Clover's eyes wandered up to meet hers, her face curling into a "I don't like where this is going" expression.

"How abooouut... The loser..." Violet began.

"Don't."

"... Has toooo..."

"Please don't."

"...Touch..."

"Why do you hate me."

"... Solomon's tail?" Violet grinned proudly.

"... You really hate me, don't you?"

"Come on, Clover" Violet cheered. "There's still time for you to score some points~!"

Clover wanted to reply something when a weird round of girly giggles caught their attention.

Around the dining tables, a group of female succubi where currently being served by Beel.

But they didn't seem to be interested in the drinks in his hand, but much rather in the man holding them. Even from the bar, the human girls could hear their excited squeals as they kept batting their eyes at the demon.

Clover's head landed on the bar counter in a depressed sigh.

"Whatever... I don't really care about the game anyway..."

In an instant, Violet's whole tone had changed.

"Clover..." She mumbled, voice soft as the patted her friend's head.

"It's been like this the whole evening" Clover grumbled, eyes pointing to the group of succubi. "I can't blame them, but... When I hear them thirsting over Beel, I…"

"Just go up to him" Violet said. "You know Beel, it's not like he'd be interested in some random demons."

The frown on Clover's face deepened. "... And in no random human, either..."

"Stop saying that. You know he likes your company. Likes you."

Clover shook her head.

"Just... Leave me, okay. Thank you, but... I'm just a little angry at myself. I also had so many chances to squeeze his tail but... Yeah..."

Violet clearly remained bothered, but Clover was quick to change the topic.

"Did you get that Luci-butt already?"

"... No" Violet cried. "He dashed away to grab Mammon, and they vanished in the staff room."

"... That's why Mammon was tied to the ceiling fan!" Clover called out. "Explains a lot."

Violet gave a nod, however continuing with her trail of thought.

"It's been quite a while, though... He should have been around the casino area, but wasn't there... And now he's on break, but, again, I have no idea where he is."

"Go search for him" Clover said. "I'll back you up here. I need something to do anyway, so... Go get your man. There's still his tail in need to be squished, right?"

--------------------------

They argued a little, but in the end, Violet accepted Clover's offer and excused herself into an early break. Violet was searching through the whole club. Asking some of the brothers, too, but none could give her a clue. She wasn't able to find him anywhere, so in her desperation, she went up to Simeon.

"Hey, Simeon? Have you seen Lucifer anywhere?"

The angel turned to greet her as well.

"Hello", he smiled. "Does he have a shift right now? If not, maybe he is using the restroom."

"Hm... I've been looking for him for a while now, though..."

Simeon mustered her for a moment.

"He might also be outside to catch some fresh air" he continued his trail of thought. "But I fear he might get a cold if he stays out for too long. Would you mind taking care of him?"

"Huh?" Violet's eyes widened in surprise.

"Lucy always had a bad habit of taking too little care of himself. So, could you check on him? I am sure he would be delighted to see you."

----------------------------------

When Violet pulled open the heavy doors of the bar's back entrance, a head turned towards her immediately.

"Lucifer...!" she called out, looking down on the demon sitting on the stairs.

"Violet... Did something happen?"

He was already in the movement of standing up, worry spreading in his face.

"No no, everything's fine!" Violet quickly assured him. "I just came looking for you."

He stopped mid-motion, but in the end sat down again.

"Why?"

Violet bit her lip. She decided to plonk down beside him.

"I'm also on break now. I thought we could spend it together and relax a little."

She felt his gaze on her, but as soon as she turned to face him, he was looking off into the distance.

"I am pleased to hear you decided to grand me your free time" he smiled. Then, he gave a sigh.

"However... I should probably head back in soon. Someone might need my help-"

"S-stay!"

Violet impulsively grabbed Lucifer's arm before he could escape.

They stared at each other. Until Lucifer let out a breathy laugh.

"Well, if you demand my presence that much... I fear I cannot turn down a request from you."

A little silence came over them. From the side glances Violet threw him, the demon looked kind of... Odd.

"Ah... Is there something you need from me, perhaps?" Lucifer asked. "Or why is it that you want me to stay so badly?"

And from how he looked at her, his perfect attire not shattered, but shreds of exhaustion glistening in his eyes, Violet knew that he wasn't okay.

"I'm good", she replied. "I simply... Wanted to check if you're doing good, too."

Surprise crossed Lucifer's face.

"Of course" he replied. "I am used to working until late."

However, Violet kept inspecting him.

"... Are you worried about me?" he asked. She did not really answer with more than a guilty glance off to the side. "Your worry is misplaced. I am nothing out of the usual."

Violet almost gave a grumbly noise. So he wasn't going to break through his perfect face so easily, huh?

"Okay", she said, tone almost as if she didn't really care. "You know, because I feel kind of exhausted."

Lucifer was hesitating. "... Explain."

"We've been running around for hours" Violet began to list. "The music inside is rather loud, especially near the dance hall. Mammon keeps causing trouble... Well, not only him. It's always tricky dealing with an angry Satan, too, or Beel when he's hungry, or with Asmo when he's... horny..."

The demon interrupted her by giving a huff. He had seen through her plan.

"... So you've come to pity me? Do I seem that weak to you?"

"What? No!" she exclaimed. "I would never think of you as weak!"

She made a little pause. A little nervous, she stretched out her hand to link her pinky finger with his.

"But I... Also don't think it's a sign of weakness to share your exhaustion with others... Let alone to be exhausted in the first place."

His crimson eyes met hers.

"... Why would I be exhausted?" he mumbled. "Dealing with this scumbag of a brother, keeping Beel from illegally eating food supplies without paying for them... Asmo groping strangers, Satan mocking me on purpose... Levi clinging to my side, whining that he wants to go home like some toddler... Oh, did you know Belphie locked himself in one of the toilet stalls to sleep? For two whole hours?" he was waiting for her to laugh, but had to endure her worried expression. "And then there's Lord Diavolo... Mixing his own sparks of crazy into this chaos..."

Mumbling the last part, he looked down on his clothing... Or rather the places where he normally would wear some.

Then his head perked up again.

"Why should I be exhausted?" he asked again. "All that is... Nothing out of the usual..."

Violet's lips curled into a sad smile.

Now she placed his whole hand into her palms.

"You work really hard, Lucifer."

He tried a cheeky smirk. "Words of flattery won't be enough to convince..."

But Lucifer's voice trailed off.

One could even debate that his mouth fell open just a slight bit, seeing the look Violet gave him.

So warm that it truly caught him off guard...

As if admitting his defeat, Lucifer went silent.

He enjoyed how her thumb gently brushed over his hand for a while as he was taking breaths of the fresh midnight air.

Violet was patiently waiting for him until eventually, he would speak up again.

"Aren't you cold?" Lucifer asked. "Your human body surely isn't used to the temperatures of Devildom nights..."

"Huh? No, I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"Oh, surely you are..." The teasing tone in his voice was back. "And I'm sure your outfit is only helping, isn't it~?"

He shot Violet some obvious glances, leading her to instinctively cover her body in a blush.

"Like you're one to talk...!" she mumbled.

"You got me there..." he chuckled. "I would lend you a jacket if I had one, but..."

Lucifer silently gestured at the arm sleeves, shrugging in a manner of "nothin doin".

He got a laugh out of her, and his relief immediately showed on his face.

"Your smiling face will have to keep me warm, then" he said.

Violet's smile turned into a blush immediately.

"Oh~?", he smirked. "A blush is fine as well, thank you~"

Struggling, Violet turned away slightly, trying not to embarrass herself even more.

Then, she felt arms being wrapped around her.

"However, I fear I have to take responsibility for keeping you warm as well..." he murmured close to her ear. "After all, it is my fault you have to sit here..."

The girl turned, and wrapping her arms around him as well, nuzzled her face into his warm skin.

"It's not your fault", she replied softly. "I chose to come and find you."

"... I still don't understand why."

"I told you" Violet smiled. "There's nothing wrong with taking a break from time to time. And if I, in any way, can help you with that, I'd love to do so."

She heard him breathe softly as he was searching for a response.

"... Thank you", he decided to say.

She squeezed him tightly. "You're welcome."

"...Stay like this for a little longer" Lucifer asked of her when it felt as if Violet was trying to pull away.

Of course, she agreed, and so they relaxed into each other’s embrace for a little longer.

Without meaning to, over time Violet's arms were sliding down his body a little, just enough to accidentally brush over something fluffy with her fingertip.

But, oh well, who would even mind gathering points for some silly game when there was something -- or rather, someone else to focus on...

---------------------------

They only parted after Lucifer's phone pulled them back into reality.

Sighing, he announced the end of their break.

"I'm glad we are closing soon..." he mumbled and helped Violet stand up. "Although, cleaning the place will probably leave us with another hour of work until we finally get to head home..."

"It will be exhausting… But we'll power through it" Violet assured, squishing his hand in encouragement.

"Yes..." Lucifer nodded.

Then, he pulled her closer one last time, wrapping one arm around her waist while looking down into her eyes.

"However... I would much appreciate it if we could keep our break a secret."

"Uhm..." the girl blinked, confused. "Sure, but may I ask why?"

"No reason in particular... I would simply ask that as a personal favour."

Then, he leaned in closer. Resting his chin on her shoulder, his hand reached to her lower back.

And Violet gave a gasp as she felt how he provocatively played with her bunny tail.

"In return, I will keep your secrets safe, too."

He pulled back, responding to her dazzled expression with a sly smirk, before passing her to open the door.

-------------------------

Being the gentleman he was, Lucifer held the door open, smiling at the lady as he gestured her to step inside.

"Thank y..." Violet was about to say,

Then both of them looked inside the kitchen.

Beel stood there, together with Clover, both giggling as they snacked on some sweets.

Violet wanted to smile at the sight… But the "shit, we got caught" expression on both of their faces, paired with Lucifer's tangible anger, made her frown instead.

"... Oops" Clover and Beel pressed out, simultaneously letting go of the meringues they had in their hands.

-----------------------

To understand how that situation came to existence, we should go back in time to take a look at Clover's side of the story.

She was cleaning the tables when yet another giggle pulled her out of her thoughts.

The girl felt tired, and had started to count down the minutes left until she could finally go home.

She was really done with life. And those certain giggles made it only worse. She would admit that she wasn't good with things like jealousy.

She just couldn't deal with it.

Not in a way like Mammon, for example, was expressing his tsundere feelings.

No, her way of coping was more... Self hating (like Levi I guess),

And hearing for yet another time how some hot demon girls called a certain waiter over to them drove her insane.

"Do you want to try my cake, Beel~?"

Clover flinched.

She peeked up to see how a demon caressed Beel's arm as she waited for his answer to her question.

Clover couldn't see his face, but, judging from his tone, he was wearing his usual frown.

"... I'm not allowed to eat the food we serve..."

"Oh, don't be like that..." The demon responded, loading some cake onto her fork. "It's my cake now, so I decide who gets to eat it. And I really want yooouuuu..."

She stopped, then one of her friends giggled.

"Are you going to finish that sentence?"

"It's already finished", she purred, seductively winking at Beel before leading the fork up to his face.

Beel was hesitating, for two whole seconds, before chomping down on both, cake and fork.

"Oh... Not again..." He mumbled.

The girls gave a giggle.

"Beel, you're such a beast!" The main (bitch) demon hummed. "That's no good, though... I wanted to feed you another bite, but how, without fork...?"

"Guess you´ll have to do mouth to mouth feeding...", Another chick chuckled.

And as the demon girl stood up to do exactly that, Clover stomped away impulsively.

In her fury, she didn't notice how someone was calling for her. She targeted the table in the most opposite corner possible as someone pulled her arm.

Belphie was staring at her, holding her by her wrist.

"... You're pathetic" he said.

"Thank you, tell me something I don't know yet." Clover pulled her arm out of his grip. "And, what, you've got nothing better to do then watch me be pathetic?"

Belphie blinked in surprise. “I would usually agree that it´s pretty funny to watch you get angry, but I´ve seen you be like this all night. What´s getting you this agitated?”

A deep frown spread on her face, but Clover didn´t answer. So Belphie looked back to Beel.

“Is it because of the succubi? Because of Beel?”

“… Please, leave me alone…”

She didn’t see his worried expression as Belphie was trying to figure the answer to his question.

“… Are you really this insecure?” He finally decided to ask.

As her only response was a short side glare with wet eyes, Belphie understood she wouldn´t talk about it.

“Really… Both of you can be such a pain to deal with…” Belphie breathed before leaving Clover alone.

And Clover felt even worse now.

Not only being so horrible inside, but Belphie tried to help her and she rejected it.

She fought tears as she furiously wiped the already clean table.

Pathetic. Yes, she was so pathetic. Honestly, Beel was probably in better company with those succubi than with an idiotic, childish human like her-

Clover got lifted off of the ground.

Squealing, she noticed too late how arms had wrapped around her thighs, leading her to now flail in the air in panic.

"Wh-what?!" Clover panicked.

"It's time for a break" She felt the culprit cheering into her back.

"... Beel?"

Beelzebub began to head through the local, the girl still in his arms.

"Let's go to the kitchen" he said. "Belphie just told you need a break, and I need your help with something..."

Clover gave some more confused noises, but it was impossible to move in the demon's grip anyway.

"O-okay, but... You don't have to carry me, I'm probably heavy..."

She felt him chuckle. "Heavy? I can carry you with one arm. Look!"

He stretched out his right arm to demonstrate. Beel led them into the kitchen.

The local wasn't serving any food at this late hour, so they appeared to be alone here.

"U-uhm... Beel, are you going to put me down somewhen soon, or...?"

"Yeah, soon..." he mumbled, then walked up to one of the shelves hanging on the wall. "Do you perhaps see anything on top of the shelf?"

Clover tilted her head.

"Yeah, there's a box of... What's that...? Meringues?"

Absolutely delicious meringues!"

Clover gave a little chuckle at the excitement in his voice, but her expression did a full turn when she saw the note attached to the box:

'BEEL. DO NOT EAT.'

"Could you get them for me?" Beel smiled innocently.

The girl hesitated, so Beel asked again. "Please, I can't reach them alone. The shelf is up too high."

"Well... I'm guessing someone hid them there on purpose..."

"Please, Clover... I'm so hungry..."

But as he realised she wasn't going to hand him the box that easily, he let her down to rest on the counter they had been standing in front of.

"Beel, I know you're hungry, but..." she began, however halted as she noticed how terribly tired he looked.“... Are you okay?"

The demon gave a little sigh. "No... I'm exhausted... Not like after training, but just... drained." He leaned against the counter next to her. "What about you? Aren't you tired? Have the customers been nice to you?"

"Huh? Yeah, they have."

"Good" he nodded. "We were afraid that some of the guests might harass you or Violet, but I guess Lucifer's official warning was enough to scare them off..."

Clover fiddled with her fingers.

"There was no need to worry, though. I don't think anyone would have approached us… or me, at least" she said, laughing awkwardly. "I don't have a fair share of people crushing on me like you, hahaha..."

Beel looked at her. "Good. You don't need any demons trying to seduce you. I wouldn't want you to go through a hassle like this..."

"... You don't like the attention?"

He shrugged. "Not really... But I have to be nice to them, so I tend to just ignore what they say. I won't say no to free food or extra money, but... I don't really see why they behave like this."

Clover chuckled, feeling relief at his words.

"Diavolo already said it... Good-looking staff makes more profit."

Beel blinked at her, processing her words. "... Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for" Clover smiled shyly.

He went silent.

"No... No, there is", Beel then suddenly said, pushing himself off the counter to stand in front of her again. "I've been hit on the whole evening, but... somehow, it feels nice if you're the one to compliment me... You always make me feel nice inside. And for that, I should thank you."

He blessed her with a smile that, obviously, was directly followed by the girls' heart exploding in the love she felt for this man.

However, he still gave off odd vibes.

"...Beel?" Clover called out, seeing how he was deeply contemplating something.

"I was thinking of thanking you with some... Meringues" his smile widened.

"... Beel."

"They're supposed to be delicious! I could feed them to you... If I manage to contain myself. But I'd try really hard, because it´s for you.”

"Beel..." Clover sighed, watching as his puppy grin spread on his face more and more.

"Wouldn't that be nice to feed each other a nice treat...?" he changed into begging puppy eyes.

They stared at each other.

"Beel."

"Clover?"

"We both know you have wings, or could have simply climbed onto the counter if you wanted to get those sweets."

"... But I wanted to share them with you...?"

"We also both know how Lucifer tends to cast spells on the things that you are absolutely not allowed to eat. But those tend to apply to demons only most of the time."

Beelzebub went silent.

"What was that earlier?” Clover continued. “About you not wanting me to be lured by demons? And now, I find myself sweet-talked like this?"

His face had ultimately changed into sulking puppy mode.

"... But I... I'm... I really mean what I said…"

Clover crossed her arms.

"You're a sly demon, mister" she scolded. "And to think you'd take advantage of me like this...!" She fake cried in disbelief.

"I'm sorry..." he pouted.

Silence came over them, in which Clover fully knew that he was thinking of both, how to make it up to her AND how to achieve his goal anyway.

His idea surprised her, though.

"... Want to touch my bunny tail?"

"... Huh?"

"I've seen you and Violet do this to the others" Beel said. "I don't why, but you seemed to have fun, so..." He turned around to expose his tail. "AND I'll treat you with some of the meringues, of course", he added as he noticed Clover was seriously considering his offer.

Clover was grunting something. "Lucifer will kill us", she said.

"He doesn't have to find out."

"... You're evil..."

"Well, I AM a demon, after all" Beel laughed.

And as he teasingly wiggled his tail at her, Clover gave in to the temptation...

------------------------

"Beel... Clover... Would you care to explain what I have to look at right now...?"

Lucifer crossed his arms as he spoke.

Yeah, they were SO screwed.

"... Uhm..." Beel started to mumble while Clover felt her stomach turn in guilt.

"Beel" Lucifer called out again. "Could those be the meringues that I have personally bought and reserved for me to enjoy after work?"

"... There was no name written on it" the avatar of Gluttony said.

Lucifer pierced him with an angry stare. Then he turned towards Clover.

"And you" his tone had the girl shiver visibly. "Demons were unable to touch that box. Hence, I assume it was you who got them? AND ate them, as well?"

"I forced her to do it" Beel immediately chimed in.

"Huh?” Clover blinked in surprise. "Beel, no... I got them! And asked Beel to try them with me. It's my f-fault" she lied.

Now Beel was the one to look confused, and the two kind of drowned in a spiral of trying to protect the other one. But the ruckus only fueled Lucifer's displease.

Already stressed out, he felt like he was about to explode.

If not for Violet who kept him steady.

"Lucifer" she mumbled in a mellow voice, stroking over his arm in a calming gesture. "Don't stress yourself. They will buy you a new package."

Lucifer shot her about the same angered glare as he had done with the others, but softened as he mustered her comforting smile.

With a sigh, Lucifer stepped closer to Beel and Clover.

"... You are lucky to have Violet standing up for you..." he mumbled. "As compensation, I order three boxes of those meringues. Oh, and when we close the bar, do not expect to leave until everything is as tidy as can be."

"Y-yes, sir...!"

------------------------------

Slowly (very slowly I know) but steadily, the evening came to an end...

A lot has happened, way too much to fit into this... One shot... Story... * glances at the total approximate reading time of one hour*

...Well. Let's not talk about that...

A little after 4 AM, every last customer had left the bar/ had been carried out of the dancing hall (like, a few of the most drunk ones literally had to be yeeted out of the local.)

Now everything that was left was cleaning up the local.

Lucifer took it upon himself to punish all of his brothers - and Clover - for annoying him at some point during this event. So those appeared to have an extra load of work, while he pulled Violet aside with him for some more leisure cleaning.

Around five in the morning, it seemed like the bunny crew was finally finished.

"Alright..." Barbatos mumbled, stepping out of the last hall he needed to check. "It seems we are done. All that is left is to take out the trash as we go."

"... How are we supposed to take out the trash? Mammon is still tied to the ceiling" Belphie mumbled casually.

"WHO DID YOU JUST CALL TRASH?!" Some Mammon screamed from the staff's room.

Clover mustered them in amusement, when Violet walked up to her.

"Ooooh, Clooveerrrr...." the girl hummed in a rather... Scary tone.

"... I don't like the look on your face" Clover stated in growing fear.

"You know... We still need to see who's won the challenge" Violet grinned.

Clover crossed her arms. "... Do we really need to compare?"

"Yes."

"Uggghhh..." Clover frowned. She pulled out her phone:

-------

Clover: Lord Diavolo? May we ask how many points you have?

Diavolo: I managed to gather 12 points, fair and square. How many do you two have?

Violet: I have 20 points in total... Although I'm not 100% sure if Lucifer noticed me earlier...

Clover: ...

* Clover has left the chatroom *

------

"Violet, I don't want to do this."

Clover's friend mustered her with a smirk.

"Well..." Violet hummed. "I'm not forcing you, but... You did loose, after all..."

"Violeeet..."

"And look" she pointed at the hall in front of the dressing rooms. "He's standing there, alone, for some reason... It's fate, Clover."

Clover gave the ugliest growl.

But in the end she walked up to Solomon.

She didn't even know how to approach this. Should she try to make it sneaky, or just awkwardly ask?

Legs wobbly, Clover came to a stop behind the sorcerer, reaching out her hand in the same moment that he turned around to face her.

"Oh, hello", Solomon cheered. "Can I help you?"

She flinched backwards.

"Uuhhhh..."

Solomon gave her a confused look, but didn't get to say anything.

Coincidentally, Levi happened to walk up to them as well, wanting something from Solomon.

The human turned around as the two talked.

And finally…

Solomon's bunny tail got touched.

...

Clover escaped immediately. Avoiding any kind of interaction, at all costs.

----------------------------------------------------

The last thing to do before everyone could return home was getting dressed normally again.

And everyone felt so tired that they really just wanted to hit the hay, when...

A panicked scream rang out of the stall Clover was changing in.

"... Clover?" Violet called out, already dressed normally again.

The girl gave continuous panicked noises, pressed out random “What is happening-?!”´s.

Then, all of a sudden, silence came over them.

“Cl… Clover…?” Visibly concerned, Violet was standing in front of the stall´s door, unsure what to do. As she didn´t get an answer, she was trying to open the door, but it was locked.

She had to hurry to get someone to help, and as her face screamed “we have trouble”, most of her friends came to look what was going on.

Barbatos had to help open the stalls door, and when Violet carefully pushed it open…

They saw a small, brown bunny sitting on the floor.

Its green eyes were staring up into the countless pairs of puzzled eyes as they tried to understand the situation.

Violet was the first one to move again. She slowly lowered herself, reaching out to the animal.

“Is that you… Clover?”

“HUH?!”

Half of the people there stared at the girl in disbelief.

“You´re telling me THIS is CLOVER??” Mammon asked with big eyes. Violet had picked the bunny up and stepped out of the stall to get a better look at Clover.

“What happened to her?” Beel asked, worry spread over his face.

Bunny Clover seemed to understand their words. Or at least, she suddenly turned her fluffy head, staring directly at Solomon.

And, well, the sorcerer stared back, an amused smile on his face.

"Ah... So Clover DID touch my tail, after all!"

"... What."

The whole group was now demanding answers.

Solomon chuckled, placing his gaze on Violet now. "I was waiting until one of you would finally approach me and touch my tail... But oddly, none of you seemed to have interest in touching it... I thought I had made myself an easy target, but I must have made it too obvious..."

Violet´s mouth fell open a tad bit.

"... So you really knew of our challenge?" She dared to ask.

But Solomon would only continue to laugh.

"I honestly thought my efforts would go to waste..." He mustered the bunny in her arms. "Don't worry though, the spell will wear off eventually."

"Eventually??" Levi repeated.

"Yes, in a few days or so."

"WHAT?!"

---------------------

The whole way back to the house of Lamentation, Violet had to deal with this grumpy, pissed, simply angwy bunny in her arms. Clover couldn´t speak, but the little facial expression she could give said it all.

“Hey, Cloverrr…” Violet attempted to cheer her up. “Don´t look at me like that… It was fun, wasn´t it?”

Bunny Clover snuffled grumpily.

Yeah, yeah, she thought. It´s all fun and games until it´s about Solomon.

Meanwhile, Bunny Clover had to endure how the brothers kept poking her fluffy fur or took pictures of her.

If she could, Clover would have given a big sigh.

THIS is exactly why I don't trust Solomon... Never did, never will...

[imaginejamesandsirius]

i literally love your blog so much! i didn't know this was a ship before i saw yours and i'm so fucking happy it does, can you write some post war fluff or literally anything you want, i just really like your writing lol!

Waking up in the middle of the war had been like a tired jolt. He had to jolt to make sure that he wasn't in danger and that he was still in his flat where he should be, and tired because Sirius hated that he had to wake up like that. It was an ingrained habit by the time the war ended. 

Every day had been a worried knot of paranoia. He hadn't wanted to keep his eyes to himself and worry about missing something that could've saved lives. Even when he didn't have to work and stayed at the flat all day, he never knew when news of someone's death or capture would break. He was so stressed out all the time that he never knew when he was actually tired and when it was just feeling wrung out from being stressed. The days had blended together, which just made his sleep schedule worse. His alarm clock was programmed with the days that he worked, so he never had to worry about missing a day at the office. 

He'd still felt like rubbish all the time. He'd been overworked, over-stressed, and under-loved. Under-loved because he'd never had time to see any of his friends, and with how paranoid he'd been, he'd hardly had the time to enjoy it. Not to mention that James had been equally stressed out, and it had only made Sirius feel worse to see him sad. 

By the end of it all, Sirius had felt like little more than a wrung out rag. 

When the war ended, he suddenly had time to himself. There weren't life-and-death matters to be stressed about at all hours of the day. When Sirius woke up with his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, he no longer thought of it as being safe; he thought that he was being stupid and should calm down. The danger was gone. He could get back to his normal life. 

The problem? Sirius didn't have a normal life. He'd gotten kicked out/left his parents and wound up with James. At first, he'd been specifically not thinking about his future so that he didn't freak out. By the time he started to think about his future, the war had been starting, and it was more important to make sure they all made it through that than to worry about what he'd do afterwards. 

Now it was afterwards, and he had no idea what to do. 

He didn't like being an auror. He sodding hated the Head Auror-- who also hated him, and in turn, could make his life miserable, which the bastard did gleefully-- and the entire system made his lip curl in disdain. He was coming up on his last days working at the Ministry, and he still didn't know what he wanted to do next. The good news was that his flat was paid for, and he had enough saved up that he wouldn't have to worry about his other bills for a long time. 

The bad news was everything else. It felt like no one knew what to do now that the war was over. They were all drifting, waiting for something to shock them back into normal living, and it hadn't happened yet. 

Sirius was meeting James for drinks tonight. Just the two of them. The old, familiar flame was still alive in his belly, heating when James was nearby; he'd never said anything to him about it, and he'd had a dozen excuses. Always excuses, never reasons. The only reason he had for not telling James that he fancied him was because he was a coward. The excuses ranged from 'it's not a good time right now' to 'maybe if I wait a little longer, he'll confess to me first'-- and he didn't think that James fancied him, so that excuse really didn't hold up. 

He walked in the pub, eyes scanning from one side of the room to the other automatically. His gaze darted back over the people that looked suspicious, but he shook himself out of that headspace before he could get any further. That was a wartime practice, and they weren't in wartimes anymore. 

Point was, James wasn't here yet. Sirius took a seat at the bar and ordered a pint, keeping an eye on the door. 

James showed up a minute later, grinning when their eyes met. He made his way over, and Sirius ordered a pint for him. By the time he sat, the bartender was sliding the mug over. 

"Thanks," Sirius said, then nudged it into James's hand. 

"Thanks," James said, picking it up and taking a pull. "How've you been?" 

"Fine," he said. Saying that he felt like rubbish for no reason wasn't exactly pub talk. "You?" 

"Same." He probably meant it the same way that Sirius did, which only served to bring his mood down. 

"Cheers," Sirius said, clinking their glasses together. He took a sip, but it didn't make him feel any better, so he put it back down on the bar top. "What've you been up to?" 

James shrugged, looking down into his beer like it had the answer. "I've been thinking about leaving the aurors too. Without you as my partner, I don't know how I'd get through the day." 

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just-" 

"No, it's fine," James said, shaking his head. "I don't like being there anymore than you do. You're braver than me," he chuckled. "I can't leave without something else lined up." 

"I'm not braver than you," Sirius denied, because he wasn't. 

"Sure you are." 

Sirius snorted and didn't say anything else to disagree with him. If James wanted to believe that about him, there wasn't much he could do to change his mind. 

James glanced at him, then away again. Sirius pretended like he didn't see it; if he had something to say, he'd say it. "I keep thinking that the war's not really over," he said. 

Something told Sirius that that wasn't what he'd been thinking about, though. 

"Like we're here, having a pint and relaxing, and I feel guilty for not doing something helpful. Or I take a drink, and I want to kick myself for getting pissed when I should be paying attention." His throat worked for a moment as he stared at his beer. "Can we go to yours? This place is making me itch." 

"Sure. All I've got is rum, though." 

"You don't like rum," James said as Sirius started chugging his beer-- if he had to pay for all of it, he was going to drink all of it. "Why do you have it?" 

Sirius didn't answer for a minute because he was still drinking. When he stopped-- and burped, because honestly, it was a mistake to try and drink that much in one go-- he shrugged. "Uncle Alphard had left it there, and I never saw a point in getting rid of it. I just wanted you to know that I don't really have anything to drink at home." 

"I'll survive." He pushed himself to his feet. His beer was still almost entirely full since the only drink he'd taken had been when he first sat. 

If they'd been fresh out of Hogwarts, Sirius would've made some joke and James would respond by either rolling his eyes and joking back, or by drinking more of it. But they weren't fresh out of Hogwarts-- they weren't fresh anything-- so Sirius paid for the drinks, and they left. Once they were outside, Sirius offered his hand so he could apparate both of them to his flat. He remembered too late that James knew where he lived and wouldn't need any sort of guidance to get there, but he took his hand before he could move. Sirius wrapped his fingers around his hand tightly and disapparated. 

He protections against people apparating inside the flat, so they landed on the welcome mat-- a gift from Lily, otherwise he never would've bothered-- and he had to unlock the door. He supposed that he could take down those protections, now. With the war done and all, there was no point in keeping them up. It would be nice to pop right into his flat like he'd always wanted to when he grew up. 

He didn't really feel grown up. Did he count as a grown up? He wasn't sure. He thought about asking James, but they were the same age, and he knew that James didn't think of himself that way. No point in asking a question when he already knew the answer. 

Sirius opened the door, and they stepped inside. He heard the door close, and he started taking off his shoes. Beside him, James was doing the same. He took off his coat and hung it up, then padded to the kitchen. He expected for James to follow him, but he didn't. He gave it a few more seconds, but James hadn't moved. Sirius turned back to look at him. 

James was stood by the door, working one foot absently against the floor like he was thinking very hard about something. 

"Is something wrong?" Sirius asked. It would make sense if there were. They'd gone out for drinks before and made it an hour before leaving. Maybe James had something to get off his chest and hadn't felt like he could do it in public. 

After a moment, he said, "No," but he was looking at Sirius like there was something he wanted to say. 

Sirius stared back evenly, willing to wait as long as it took. 

After several seconds, James seemed to come to a conclusion. He strode forward. Instead of stopping in front of Sirius and talking, he kept moving until he was in Sirius's space. He had to tilt his face up to kiss him, and he had his hands on either side of Sirius's face. 

For a heart-stopping moment, Sirius wondered if he was drugged. There might've been something in his drink but he didn't notice because of how quickly he'd downed it. 

But he couldn't imagine there was a drug vivid enough to give him the scent of rubbish beer under James's normal scent, or the warmth and every single wrinkle of his lips against Sirius's. Maybe that was a lack of imagination on his part. But if he was going to get to experience this in any way, he wasn't going to fight it. 

It only took him a second to kiss James back, but he could practically feel the relief coming from him when he did. 

Sirius could admit that it was a little awkward. James's glasses got in the way a little, and Sirius didn't know what to do with his hands. The only place to put them was on James's waist, and he didn't know if that would be okay so he kept them at his side. 

There was a long moment when James pulled back and they stared at each other. Neither of them said anything. They just looked into the other's eyes. He didn't know how to ask for more, or-- at the very least-- for James not to leave. James didn't look like he wanted to go anywhere, but Sirius's immediate, panicked reaction was to hold onto him and never let go. 

He didn't have to. James kissed him again, and his grip tightened to the point that it was clear he never wanted to let Sirius go either. 

Neither of them said anything. 

Not for the rest of night, except for when James took off his glasses. Sirius asked, "You're going to be bloody blind." 

And James had said, "I can still see you," like it was the only thing that mattered. 

Sirius went to sleep feeling warm and tired but tired in a way that made him pleased instead of miserable. James was right beside him, curled against his side. 

When he woke up, James was still there. Not talking last night had been fine, but it wouldn't pass this morning. 

He didn't know what they were going to do because he didn't know what last had meant to James. Maybe he'd been lonely and they were mates and that's all there was to it. The thought was more than a little heartbreaking, but it made Sirius feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted. But no, that wasn't quite right. It was like a weight had been lifted but he hadn't realised until now, when he had something else to worry about. 

He could worry about how James felt for him-- whether it was aesthetic appreciation or an actual fancy-- without feeling guilty for ignoring more important problems. There wasn't a more important problem. His friends weren't getting murdered and tortured. Muggles were free to continue their lives without wizarding interference to hurt them. The ministry wasn't in danger of being overthrown. He could worry about what James may or may not feel for him, and it would honestly be his biggest problem. 

The thought made him grin. 

James shifted, then propped his head up with one arm. There was a soft smile gracing his face. With the morning sun coming in through Sirius's window, it made him look almost angelic. "What're you so happy about this early?" 

"I was thinking that this is my biggest problem right now, and that's okay. I can worry about what we are to each other without missing details at an Order meeting because I'm distracted. If you don't want to date me, I can mope here all day, and that won't put Lily or anyone else in more danger because I wasn't around. Worrying about what you think of me is my biggest problem, and it's allowed to be." 

"You're a strange sort." 

"You mean you don't like that your biggest problems in life aren't worrying about death and torture and the imminent destruction of life as we know it?" 

James shook his head. "Not that. The part where you think I could possibly not want to be with you." 

"In my defense, we didn't really talk about it," he said, still smiling. 

"Eh." James reached out with his free hand and splayed his fingers across Sirius's chest, looking at the contrast of their skin like this. "I didn't say anything before the war because I was scared. I didn't say anything during the war, because I didn't see the point in having that conversation and distracting us. Whether we got together or not, it would've divided your focus, and I wasn't about to put your life on the line because I was in love. And I didn't say anything last night because... well, we didn't really need to talk about it, did we?" He looked up at Sirius's face. "I looked at you, and it seemed like you were feeling the same things that I was. So I didn't worry about it." His mouth quirked. "Should I start worrying about it?" 

"No. It doesn't seem like a good use of your time." Sirius lifted a hand and covered the one that James had on his chest. "You know what is a good use of your time?" 

"I'm guessing sex." 

"Well, yes, but I was going to say more sleep. I'm kind of tired, still." 

James chuckled. He leaned forward and kissed Sirius before laying back down. "Sounds good to me." 

It took some shifting for them to get back into comfortable positions, and Sirius let his hand trail idly across James's back as he thought. 

"I love you too, you know," he said quietly. 

James's eyes were already closed, and he didn't open them. "Yeah. I know." 

Sirius smiled and closed his eyes again. Getting a little more sleep really did sound like an excellent idea. 

[marshmallowprotection]

Damn, sorry to send yet another ask; also, thank you for your response to my last one. Writing out my feelings as well as reading your response did help me calm down ^^

But there's... there's another thing, and I hope you don't mind this topic, it's kinda heavy. If it's too much, you can go ahead and ignore this.

Erm... self harm warning? Ha...

That was the thing. Is the thing. That I started doing due to that friendship. I think it was curiosity more than anything.

...I don't have depression. Anxiety, yes, and sometimes I get frustrated at myself/my disorder, but not depression. I'm not suicidal either. Sometimes I hurt myself when I'm stressed or anxious, sometimes I do it just because... I need to. I need to and I like it and no one tells me why it's wrong. Why is it wrong?? I honestly don't understand. I'm careful; scratching and biting doesnt cause anything severe... and I'm careful otherwise. I'm not hurting anyone else. I'm not depressed. I'm not suicidal. I just like it and it- it... I'm such a freak, ugh, but I can't help the fact that I like it.

I don't do it all the time, it's kind of an off-and-on thing. Just whenever I have the urge.

And my mom... maybe at some point I might've considered telling her, but now I know that I never will. She's made some comments recently about cutters that... they aren't rude or anything, they just show that she'll never understand me. And I don't want to risk emotionally hurting her because she won't understand.

...why is it wrong? No one can answer me. All that comes out of it is relief, even if it isn't exactly the best means. So what's wrong with it?

I've told a number of my friends, actually, and I can tell they don't know what to do. I have one friend who occasionally asks me how I'm doing in regards to that, but I can tell they just... are lost. Don't want to deal with it because they don't know what to do.

I don't want to be stopped. But... maybe if someone could understand me for once and tell me why it's wrong, maybe that person would be able to convince me...

The only thing that stops me before I do it (besides lacking energy/a true desire to do it)... Ugh, this is going to sound so pathetic. Relying on someone who doesn't even exist. But it's Saeyoung... sometimes just imagining his face gives me pause; I hesitate.

But he's not real. Even if he was, who's to say he'd be able to give me an answer?

Maybe I'll never find anyone who can convince me. That's... that's fine. I don't want to be stopped. I only know destructive means of releasing anger, and tearing paper doesn't work that well. Biting my hand, however, brings immediate calm.

I did it right in front of my mom out of habit during an argument which was stressing me out. Immediate relief. She didn't even realize what I was doing.

[417]

TW: Self-Harm, Cutting, Depression, Anxiety 

Self-Harm is a dangerous thing to pick up. It doesn’t just mean cutting. It means that you could deny yourself things or bite yourself or crawl at your skin. It’s not something to feel ashamed of or feel guilty about because feelings are very hard to deal with in a healthy way when you don’t have a safe space or people that you can reach out to that can show you better ways to cope with your pain and depression. So, I hope that you know that you’re not a bad person and that it will get better in your life. 

This is something that is going to take some time to work on. You’re not hurting anyone but yourself, dear. Nobody deserves to suffer or feel horrible. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting and that nobody has been able to gently guide you and show you that life can be worth living when you know where to start to help yourself feel better again. One doesn’t have to have depression per se to have struggles with self-harm, either. 

I’m sorry that you don’t feel safe enough to open up to your family about this, or your friends. Self-harm is addictive, and it’s very hard to stop once you’ve had the time to start it. It’s harmful to you. Do you deserve to be hurt? No. You don’t. Nobody does. You’re looking for something to help you feel something other than numbness, and yes, pain is a feeling that one can have but it’s not the feeling that you need. 

I don’t want to scold you or shame you, so I hope that my tone is coming across gently because I do worry about you! I worry about anyone that is struggling with so much pain in their heart on their own. I know how hard that is. The answer that you’re looking for is for someone to tell you that you matter, that your life matters, that your existence matters. It does. I promise you that it does mean something to many people. 

You can’t wait for someone to tell you that all the time, but I understand that people want to hear it from the ones that they love the most. There’s no right thing to tell you other than that I hope that you know that you can find better ways to cope with your pain. It’s harmful because it isn’t helping you sort out your feelings. It’s just hurting you in more ways than you’re able to see. 

If you would like to know better ways to cope with self-harm, I can direct you to some better coping mechanisms and references that you can check out. I’ve had many people tell me that biting into lemons or drinking something really tart can jolt you out of feeling numb. That’s one of the major things with self-harm, trying to feel something that isn’t numbness. My fiance stands by submerging your face in ice water for a few seconds to deal with his urges. He’s a few years into his recovery, so I trust him with that theory. 

There are other ways to be mindful and help yourself. I promise. If you want to talk more, I’m always here and I’m always willing to listen to whatever you have to say. If you just need a void to scream into, just let it out. Your mother may not understand, but if you’re old enough, you can speak to your doctor about getting someone to talk to about this. I think 16 is the minimum age or that in many of the states. 

Now, for the other half of what you said. Don’t feel ashamed for coping with a character. In many cases, that’s the only outlet that many young people have to hold onto you. The only reason that I, for example, was able to deal with what happened to me throughout my childhood and recently, my adulthood, was the fact that I could clutch onto a character to feel better. I still do it. I close my eyes and imagine that comfort character reassuring me. It’s not silly, it’s not wrong, and if it helps you, don’t let anyone make you feel bad. 

I’m so very self-insert and OC positive because I know how important it is for people to cope with their pains and woes. Sometimes, you just want to flirt with a cute character, or you want to be cherished, and you find that in a character. I think that’s sweet. Our brains don’t go “fictional” or “real”, if you love something or someone, that love is tried, true, and real. You love him. That’s real, and he would want you to be happy and taken care of. 

That’s real. Saeyoung wants you to be happy and wants you to be able to live your life. He’s always willing to listen if you need to write to him. I do that at times, just writing out how I feel and how I know Saeran would talk to me back about it. They empathize and understand your pain. They would want you to feel okay but they would never shame you for hurting. Nobody should. I hope that you can feel better in the future and that you always remember that things will be okay. 

Fight for yourself and for your happiness, easier said than done, but I believe in you! I actually wrote a writing trade for someone who has similar struggles if you would like to read that with Saeyoung.

[cynicalrainbows]

Inner Voice Chpt 4

Sorry for the slight pause! I've been working hard on trying to get Kitty's inner-Henry right.... and to properly show the absolute agony of trying to negotiate non-fucked up conversations when you're used to....a certain degree of fucked-up-ness as normal. I hope I did it justice- feedback is always so very welcome please!

TW for refs to an emotionally abusive relationship.

In the bathroom, she splashes water on her face and leans her forehead against the cool surface of the mirror, willing her eyes to stop stinging and her breathing to go back to normal before she has to face the others again. The last thing she needs is to have to explain herself.

It isn’t long though before there’s a tap at the outer door.

Well, at least they aren’t just coming straight in….

‘Kitty?’

Wearily she wipes her eyes: it will cause more of a fuss if she refuses to answer, as if she’s manipulating them into being more concerned than necessary.

‘You can come in, Anna’

‘Are you ok?’

She begins to nod, mostly out of habit, but as she does, she feels her face crumple and the tears return.

‘I’m- fine-’

‘No you’re not.’ Anna’s arms are not the same arms that had comforted her in their first friendship but they’re just as warm. ‘But you will be.’

‘I’m- sorry’ Her voice catches in her throat, and she nearly chokes on it. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong- what’s wrong with me-’

By rights, Anna should push her away for making a fuss over nothing but she doesn’t. (She never has done.)

‘Just one of those days?’ There’s no judgement, just understanding, as if Anna too is guilty of interrupting rehearsals to whine beside a sink.

She lets her heavy head rest in the hollow of Anna's neck. She doesn’t have the strength to lie. ‘I’m…..so tired. Of everything.’

‘I know, liebling. Do you remember, you said the same thing to me back then?’

She does remember. Her fourth day as a Maid In Waiting, still walking on pins with the anxiety of being officially in Royal Service, still unable to find her way around the enormous palace and, as consequence, late for every one of her duties. When the new queen-to-be had singled her out and called her to speak privately, she’d expected a scolding- or worse, to be sent home in disgrace.

‘I was so homesick. Court wasn’t how I'd imagined it.’

‘It wasn’t how I’d imagined it either- but d’you know, seeing that you were new to everything too made me feel so much less alone. It made things easier, I could worry about how you were getting on, rather than thinking about how strange it was for me-’

‘I thought I was in trouble- but you were so kind…..’

(It’s funny, in a sick sort of way, to think that sending her home in disgrace is, in hindsight, the very kindest thing Anna could have done for her then.)

‘I’m glad you thought so.’

‘You said it would get easier....’

‘I did. I was wrong then, I think.’

She gave the tiniest of nods and Anna tightens her hold.

‘It will be easier this time though. I promise.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I'm going to take better care of you, this time around.’

She says it so very certainly, as if it’s something she’s been thinking for a while. Kitty pulls away slightly. 

‘You don't need to, Anna.’ She doesn’t want to make herself anyone’s duty. All duties, even those taken on willingly, pall over time, she knows. ‘I know what I’m like, but honestly I can take care of myself.’

Anna looks at her oddly. ‘What do you think you’re like?’

It’s the sort of question that was usually a trap- it makes her anxious. It reminds her of conversations with Henry, round and round, trying to escape a snare that she couldn't see coming until she was already inside it.

(‘What did you mean by that? What are you really saying? What does this mean?’ He was always better tuned to picking up the intricacies of what she ‘really meant’ than she was. She usually didn’t even realise that she’d said something grossly offensive- or ungrateful or cruel- until he pointed it out to her.)

‘I’m didn’t mean- I’m sorry- I-’

Oh Kitty’ Anna reaches out a hand and instinctively, she flinches away. It’s just a twitch but she still feels dreadful for it…. She’s sure Anna will be hurt by her lack of trust.

But when she takes Kitty’s face in both of her hands, her dark eyes are full of love. They made the tight bands across her chest loosen slightly.

 ‘Look at me. I promise I'm not upset with you, liebling. I’m not getting cross. I was just asking because I'd like to know, so that I can reassure you. Ok?’

There’s a moment before she can make herself respond.

‘Ok.’

Anna gives a little nod for her to continue.

‘Ok. I-’ She takes a breath that is only a bit shaky. ‘I’m-’ It’s hard but she makes herself, Anna deserves that much at least. ‘I’m….not a good person. I…. think things. And I say things. And-’ She sucks in a quick gulp of air. Being this honest is hard, she feels as if she’s breaking herself open. ‘And...I’m afraid that over time, you and the others, you’ll start to see things in me, soon, and I’m afraid of that, that you’re maybe seeing them already-’

Anna's thumb brushes away the wetness on her cheek, her face calm. ‘What things, liebling?’

‘That I’m-’ Her voice catches. She’s afraid to list her worst traits to Anna in case it makes her notice them, she’s even more afraid that they won’t come as a surprise  ‘That I’m selfish. That I'm….bad. Like earlier- when they said that I was singing for vulnerable girls, that by making my song better, I was supporting them?’

‘Yes’

‘And my thought- my first thought? Was just… that I didn't care.’ She talks faster, she wants to get it over with. ‘That I was too tired to think about that, that I just wanted to get on with things, even if the song wasn't quite right, just so it could be over. And that's- I know that’s terrible but it’s...its how I felt-’

(‘Selfish, selfish girl, selfish girl, you have a cruel soul and a hard heart. What sort of person would think such things? What sort of person wouldn’t sicken at putting herself first in every case, what sort of person could live with themselves?’)

Tears blur Anna's face and she’s glad of it- she doesn’t want to see the shock and rejection that she deserves. The moment stretches like elastic, longer and longer- and then Anna moves and she flinches away again, from the blow that she expects, that she surely deserves this time- and instead, she feels herself being pulled back into the safety of Anna's arms.

‘Oh liebling. Oh Kitty.’

‘Im sorry, I-’

‘Shhhh, it’s alright.’ Anna’s voice is heavy with emotion and it sounds odd. ‘I promise you- Kitty, I promise you, there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all. You’re- you’re lovely-’

‘I’m not, I’m-’

Anna talks over her.

‘You’re worn out, of course you wanted it to be over. That doesn't make you selfish, that doesn't make you bad, it makes you normal.’

There's so much sincerity in Anna’s tone that it’s hard, for a moment at least, to disbelieve her.

‘Why don't I feel like it?’

‘Because you’re a good person. Do you think bad people spend time worrying about being good? No.’ Anna doesn’t wait for a response. ‘No, they don’t. But you do. Because you care.’

Anna is waiting for a sign of agreement, and it’s hard but she doesn't have it in her to lie, even to give Anna the reassurance she wants. She shakes her head slowly, feeling the tears come back- (‘You’re just trying to make her feel guilty, to milk more sweet words and reassurance from her. She’ll tire of it, soon enough-’) but Anna doesn't look annoyed, just cuddles her close again, while Kitty grips the back of her shirt. 

‘That’s ok. I'll….just keep reminding you until you believe me.’ Anna’s voice holds a smile. ‘I can be very persistent, you know...Remember my battle with Anne over the pillow?’

She does, and it’s enough to shake a weak laugh out of her. Anna chuckles too and moves a hand up to rub her tight shoulders.

‘The others will agree with me, you know.’

Anna says it with conviction but she knows she's wrong somehow. She isn’t sure if she wants to try to convince Anna of it though.

‘I…..I don't know if i want to keep talking about this now-please-’

Anna doesn’t look irritated at her attempt to end the conversation. (It had always infuriated Henry though.)

‘That’s ok, you must be exhausted.’

‘Just a bit...’

Anna detaches slightly to pass her some tissues, and waits silently while Kitty dries her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time. They’re already feeling sore and swollen.

‘Are you ready to go back?’

‘Not really.’

‘Ok.’

‘But we should.’

She knows she’ll have to face them sometime after all.

‘Ok.’

[phanbliss]

1:)

thank you and sorry this one took so long, i’m still going through the prompts :)

words: 1.7k

rating: g

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17325368 (i recommend reading on ao3, formatting gets messed up on mobile)

prompt: “That’s starting to get annoying.”

Phil leaves his socks. Everywhere.

It’s taken Dan months to truly notice, and even longer to start caring. When they first moved in together, Dan was far too busy being happy to bother with stuff like that.

Sure, he noticed that Phil was a messy person, but then again, so was Dan. Dan’s room back home always looked like he had a permanent natural disaster for a flatmate, so it’s not like he was perfect. He wasn’t perfect then, and he still isn’t now.

Since moving in with Phil, he tries way harder - and judging by the general state of their flat, so does Phil. Dan remembers Phil’s room back home too. Yeah, that was a lot worse. Right now, they have a few dishes waiting in the sink, they have a pile of laundry they should have done last week, and they have some clothes on the bathroom floor. It’s all stuff that Dan can live with, especially considering that he contributes to it too.

They made a list of rules when they started living together, including all sorts of things - amongst them, cleaning. They stick to it, more or less. So… it’s not too bad.

But the socks. The socks are starting to do his head in.

Socks on the rug. Socks on the sofa. Socks on the bed or even on the pillows. Dan doesn’t know how Phil even does it, because he never once caught him in the act. The socks just appear out of nowhere, and they’re not Dan’s socks, they’re definitely Phil’s. Dan doesn’t believe in the supernatural, so the sock goblin is out of the question.

Phil leaves his socks everywhere, and it’s a bit of a problem.

-

“Should we organise our socks? I think I’ve lost a couple,” he tries one day when they’re snuggled up on the sofa, trying his hardest to sound casual.

“Oh, I keep losing them,” Phil replies, oblivious. “It’s the sock goblin.”

Dan is smiling, voice soft, even though he’s quite nervous on the inside. “Yeah, probably. But I mean, we could try and sort them out, right?”

Phil half-shrugs, but he doesn’t let go of Dan, and makes no move to stand up.

“Of course, if you want.” And then Phil kisses his temple, and his cheek, his jaw, his neck, and Dan forgets that they were meant to be sorting through socks.

-

The next time he tries to do something about the socks, he just goes through the entire flat, collecting socks and throwing them in the laundry. A lot are mismatched, almost all of them are Phil’s.

The thing is, Dan doesn’t know how to approach the subject with Phil. They never really argue, not properly, and it feels like Phil might get… sad? Upset, maybe?

It’s easier if he just does it himself.

It’s only a few days before the socks are found in the strangest of places. Dan doesn’t know why they bother him, but they kind of do.

But nobody is perfect - even though in Dan’s eyes, Phil is.

-

“Phil?” Dan begins as they’re cooking dinner.

“Yeah?”

“I…” Dan pauses. He wants to ask about the socks, but instead, he says something else. “Do you think we should clean today?”

Phil frowns at him, tilting his head a little. “Today? It’s not our cleaning day, is it? It’s Sunday.”

Dan releases a sharp, nervous breath. “Um, yeah, well—it is, but—”

“But?”

“I just—it’s a bit messy, you know. The—like, there’s like… there's… our clothes? You know?”

Phil’s frown fades, giving way to worry mixed with amusement.

“Same as always, then? Dan, are you okay?” Phil rests his hand on Dan’s shoulder, then pulls him into a quick side hug. “You’re being a bit weird.”

Dan loves it. Phil’s embrace, them cooking dinner together in this small Manchester flat. And he doesn’t want them to argue about socks.

So he drops it.

“No, I’m good, yeah.” Dan gives Phil a peck on the cheek. “Super good.”

-

Finally, the day comes when the dam breaks, and all of Dan’s feelings on the sock matter are set free.

It’s gotten to the point where he is less upset about the socks, and more upset about the fact that he is keeping something from Phil. He keeps playing out different versions of the conversation over and over in his head, and for whatever reason, they all end in disaster, so he avoids it.

It’s not like they never argued, but it’s just—it’s just that Dan, despite the fact that their relationship is not that new anymore, never really had to indicate that something bugged him. They fit together like two puzzle pieces; they haven’t had a hard time adjusting. If they procrastinated, they did it together. If they kept a mess, they were both responsible. That was never a problem.

But the socks, that’s just Phil, and it's—it’s harder than expected to actually say that out loud.

Today, Dan is a bit grumpy. He had an argument with his mum on the phone, he slept badly, and he’s hungry. And then he finds Phil’s sock on the kitchen counter. The bloody kitchen counter. That’s what finally tips the scale for him.

He isn’t about to start a big argument. There’ll be no screaming or anything of the sort. But maybe the sock thing had become big enough an issue for him to actually talk. Phil won’t be mad at him.

Right?

Dan takes the sock and carries it over to Phil, who is sat on the sofa with his laptop, editing his new video. He unceremoniously drops it on Phil’s laptop, grabbing his attention.

Phil jumps a little, stares down at the sock in confusion, then transfers that same look towards Dan.

“Phil,” Dan begins and then falls silent, suddenly unsure how to proceed.

“Why are you giving me my sock?” Phil asks after a pause.

“Because it was on the kitchen counter!” Dan exclaims, finally finding the strength to do it without hesitating. The next thing he says sounds mild in comparison. “Your sock thing, Phil. It's… it’s starting to get a bit annoying.”

They look each other in the eyes - Dan looking down, Phil looking up - and say nothing for a moment. Phil seems to be bewildered. Dan, on the other hand, is almost scared of hearing Phil’s response.

“My sock thing?” Phil finally repeats, perplexed.

“Yes, your sock thing. You leave your socks everywhere , and I tried to get it under control, but I can’t. You need—I want you to—I want you to stop.”

Phil considers Dan’s words for a moment, puts the laptop away and stands up, still looking Dan in the eyes.

“Why haven’t you said that it’s been bothering you? I knew something was off. I even asked you.”

Dan breaks eye contact, looking down to the floor. “I was… I was a bit scared? I guess. I don’t want to argue with you, but Phil—” He looks up again, eyes boring into Phil’s. “Phil, I can’t stand the sock thing. Seriously.”

Phil’s gaze softens as he smiles sheepishly. He cups Dan’s cheek, and Dan leans into the touch.

“I’m going to try to get better, alright? Promise.” Phil pauses, waiting for Dan to respond. When Dan nods, Phil adds, “And Dan?”

“What?”

Phil brings his other hand up to Dan’s face, now with both hands on his cheeks, then slides them down to Dan’s shoulders.

“You never have to keep stuff from me, alright? I'm—I’m messy and clumsy and—and you need to tell me if something annoys you.”

The knot that was continuously tightening somewhere in Dan’s chest suddenly releases its hold on him, and he smiles earnestly. Why was he ever scared of confronting Phil? It’s Phil. Phil doesn’t get mad.

“I’ll try.”

-

2018

Phil is still sleeping when something lands on his face. Something soft.

He opens his eyes with a start, blinking into the thing that is now covering his vision. Startled, he removes it and sees not one, but two of his fox socks. Then he sees Dan standing above him, and Phil can’t see Dan’s expression without putting on his glasses, but he can pretty much guess.

Phil doesn’t say anything. He knows what is coming.

“What are your socks doing on the coffee table?!” Dan shouts, not wasting any time.

The coffee table. Well…

“Um, I dunno? Maybe I saved them there for later?” he replies. He grabs his glasses off the nightstand and puts them on.

“Save them on your fucking feet, Phil. That’s where socks go. Or in the drawers, or in the laundry. It’s not rocket science. Actual years of this shit, I swear,” Dan rants, and rants, and rants.

Phil does feel a bit guilty. He will try harder.

It never works, though. They both know it. It’s a disease, a sock-disease.

“You know my mum is coming over later. What if hadn’t noticed them? What would I tell her? Oh, sorry mum, it’s just that Phil can’t keep his socks in the —”

Phil, having heard all of this many times before, throws one of the socks up in Dan’s face. Dan instantly falls completely silent, staring at Phil with shock in his eyes. And seeing that, Phil can’t help it. He simply starts laughing.

It takes a moment, but Dan eventually joins him, laughing at the very thing that Phil knows has been driving him bonkers for years. It’s not that Phil doesn’t care. It’s just one of the habits he can’t seem to break.

Once they calm down, Phil is sitting up, Dan still standing over the bed. Dan is shaking his head, smiling at Phil with more fondness than he probably deserves right now.

Phil is lucky, really. Even if he gets woken up by socks on his face, he’s lucky, so lucky. It’s amazing that after years and years, Dan still manages to laugh when Phil throws his own socks back at Dan’s face.

“I hate you,” Dan says, then abruptly pulls the covers off of Phil. “Enough napping. Sort out the sock thing. I need to vacuum.”

With an affectionate smile, Phil gets up and goes on a sock hunt. It’s the least he can do after all these years.

[flashcardsagainsthumanity]

How to efficiently stop procrastinating - for perfectionists

I just read an article on how to stop procrastinating for real. I thought it was gonna be the same old shit we all know, but no. I actually found it useful, for once, and I feel like y'all should know about it. Here's a brief summary of what I've learnt.

First of all, procrastination is a habit, which makes it hard to replace with healthier lifestyles. Of course you'll have to work on this for a long time, but with self-awareness and patience you can do it.

Pay attention, though. You'll have to do things. Not just read and absorb what I say. If you really wanna change, do it.

Let's start.

We firstly need to make a distinction between two kinds if procrastination: "justifying delay" and "distracting yourself". The first one is when you do other activities instead of doing what you should do (for example, cleaning your room when you should studying (calling myself out like that? I think the fuck yes)); the second one is when you try hard to avoid the activity by wandering around, eating and doing nothing. The first modality of procrastination is usually more productive but still doesn't bring you to do your thing.

Now, think of an episode when you've procrastinated something important in the last months. Not a generic thing, we need to get uncomfortably specific here. Writing it down might help you (it surely will in the next few steps, so maybe having a piece of paper next to you is the best choice). Which kind of procrastination was that of the two I've listed?

It is finally time to go deep into our minds and look for the reasons why we procrastinate. We tend to say it's because we're lazy, we can't concentrate or we've got two many distractions, but let's get real: we can all get distracted with nothing. Procrastination is actually a reaction we have to negative feelings. We procrastinate to avoid a particular situation. Well, what are you afraid of? Why exactly did you procrastinate on that fatidical day we mentioned before? Maybe you're afraid of rejection; maybe you don't want to be at the centre of attention; maybe you feel dumb or stressed or overwhelmed; maybe you don't wanna make a mistake. It can be just one of these reasons or literally all of them.

Now, as I said, we have to get real. It's going to be awkward and embarrassing for all of us, but we need to seriously understand what our mind is thinking when we procrastinate. I'm gonna start. Yesterday, I've procrastinated studying Italian literature cause I don't like that subject but I wish I did, cause my parents would be prouder of me. I'm super scared that I'm going to break down during the presentation. I'm also afraid that some of my classmates will end up criticizing my grades cause "I don't deserve them".

Write it down. Write everything that makes you feel bad before doing an activity. I know, it's awful and extremely uncomfortable, but you need to be aware of your 'limit', of what is stopping you from reaching your goals. Remember, you're not just too lazy or dumb to study/work/whatever. You just feel bad for something.

Well, it is our last part here, probably the hardest one that will take a long time. As I said, negative emotions are stopping us from doing activity X. In other words, we are avoiding activity X to avoid all the negative emotions correlated. Is it working? Cause it surely isn't for me, I constantly feel guilty for not doing enough when I've got an high potential. So, how do we fix that? I mean, it is kinda obvious. Avoiding emotion Y leads us to procrastinate activity X. So, to stop procrastinating activity X, we gotta embrace emotion Y. Feel all of it. It's painful and full of anger and, yes, I want to stop. But we need to face the bad feeling, not delete it, cause guess what, we're humans not machines. (Guess that's the hardest lesson for every perfectionist out there)

In short, to avoid procrastination caused by fear, we need to face that fear. Again, it's not a process that you can do overnight, it's gonna take a long time (most people say you can build a habit in 30 days, but demolishing one is probably even harder).

Love yourself and all your progress, even the one that doesn't exactly reach your goal. And, most importantly: you don't have to do everything perfectly. You're going to fail someday, and that's still better than not trying at all.

[ can't find the article where I read all that stuff but I'm going to link down the blog where it was from, check it out, it seems incredibly inspiring for my perfectionist procrastinating ass ]

[nctsukashii-archive-blog]

hc + food & music bc I'm unoriginal™

Let me ramble about my son.

Nothing is too unoriginal! There can be something amazing even from the most simplistic of words! It only becomes unoriginal when you have a lot of the same things. Hence where such a statement comes from! But aside from that tangent I hope you like reading essays because I can never learn to shut the fuck up lol.

- FOODHoshi and food are an interesting combo. This mostly stems from his background in tennis, because surprise surprise, tennis still plays heavy in his life. So Hoshi can eat a shit ton of food like it’s practically nothing- it’s a skill developed over years, and how that skill came about is simple; tennis. If you don’t know, it’s VERY common for many athletes before practice or training to consume a lot of calories all at once to then burn it off all at once. It’s like, giving a campfire a shit ton of wood and then letting it all quickly burn away. It improves physique because you’re still working out, but also getting all the necessary energy to do that kinda stuff. So Hoshi ate a lot of food while growing up. A mix between fast food and regular made meals, with a lot of trips to restaurants while over in other countries.

Remember that he was international by middle school. Famous athletes can eat as much as 5,500+ calories a day, which doesn’t sound like a lot until you remember that the average man should be eating around 2000-3000 calories a day. Of course Hoshi isn’t average by any means, but that just means that he can have more infrequent eating habits. A normal 3 meals a day probably didn’t jive well with the average workout schedule for normal sized people, because it’s accustomed to our size and calorie output. Which means he had more time to stop and relax and eat more, for more rigorous workout / training regimes. I’ll get more into that later, because that can be it’s own separate post, but as a result Hoshi prolly had quite a bit of fast food in his life. Not because he and his team couldn’t afford to go to good restaurants or take time to make a good meal, but because of being an infrequent eater he probably had more-so around 4-5 meals a day just to fit with his practice and workout schedules. 

As a result, there were times where he had to make something fast, and that just so happened to maybe be buying a bucket of chicken and eating it before waiting a bit and going back out to the courts. It’s a guilty pleasure kind of thing, he’ll eat a lot of fast food and probably try to work it off just as fast, which isn’t hard given his body size and his usual performances on the court. In scenarios where he can’t work out as much physically, whether it be from depression or a different profession out of prison, there are moments where he’ll experience massive weight gain just by accidentally falling back into routine. Of course he’ll try his best to lose said weight in doing things like push-ups, crunches, jogging, etc. but it can be really hard sometimes. Overall, it’s a fall to habit more than anything, although he’s usually excellent at controlling himself to eat like a normal person nowadays.

That being said, prison destroyed a lot of his eating patterns when he first arrived, having now grown back to 3 meals a day, he also had to deal with being lethargic and unable to move while barely eating anything. It’s like imagining that same fare with barely any logs, and occasionally having a little gas dumped on it so it’ll keep burning. Very different from the glory days. He still keeps his big stomach though, that never went away, but he has grown to be more inactive if he plans not to eat much some days, whether that be from prison, mental illness, whatever. He can still eat a lot though, but will try to pace himself and not gain a lot of weight if he knows he won’t be able to lose it all quickly. 

(More under the cut because I will flood the dash if I don’t)

Although his favorite kind of food is honestly just anything homemade. After having prison food, ya know the good ol mystery meats, the fish that’s always too salty, the undercooked rice, the soup that tastes like water, all that fun stuff; it’s good to just get some food that doesn’t blow? Like a lot? Something cooked fresh from home is always a favorite. It gives him a healthy and wonderful nostalgia from times his mom cooked for him when he came home from tennis practice or after travelling international for weeks at a time. Nothing can compare to a good meal made by loved ones. 

Hoshi holds a preference for stronger flavors, just because his tongue was a bit destroyed by salted foods in prison. He likes things with stronger tastes, while not really hating but not preferring things that aren’t very taste-heavy. Of course he also knows not to hurt himself with things like spicy foods, but some seasonings or spices are well preferred in his meals.

But he also has quite a bit of a sweet tooth as well, able to eat candy often and sweets baked by his girlfriend. He can control himself decently when it comes to it, but it slips into his beverage preferences at times as well. Doesn’t really like the cool professional taste of coffee unless it’s filled with sugar, and he loves grape soda. Not that he hates water or anything like that, but sometimes he likes having some sweetness in his life.

- MUSICMusic is weird because he doesn’t ever really listen to music. Hoshi just never really felt a desire to listen to that kinda stuff when he was playing tennis, and when he wasn’t playing tennis he was either eating, sleeping, or relaxing with his cat on the couch or smth, so he just never really had a real reason to play a tune here or there. He’s not against music or anything, but silence can be comforting sometimes, especially after a long day of work. While silence can also be associated with the emptiness of prison, he does like the light sounds of ringing in the air or cats paws on the floor. Sounds, rather than music. 

He can enjoy light pieces though. Hoshi practically has the taste of a geezer because he loves slow and light music. Stuff that plays in the background as filler rather than anything meant to keep his attention. Just a preference when he performs daily activity. He likes being active despite what some could think, it’s just that prison has kinda forced a lethargic lifestyle onto him. Even then, he still likes to stand or walk around, so something he doesn’t have to really think about does wonders. Songs without lyrics are a plus, because it gives him something to not focus on- instead letting him just listen to the whole song and it’s melodies. He’s a simple guy at heart, but hey, it’s just who he is.

A lot of music preference is dictated by what he thinks is cool. Cool music would be stuff like piano solos, or pieces that really feel like people are putting energy into instruments. He has a load of respect for people that can play an instrument or instruments super well for multiple songs, because it’s a dedication of effort which he reflects back onto himself and tennis. He also is quite a fan of songs which fit his aesthetics. Deep guttural music that isn’t loud per say, but powerful. He’s not a fan of rock or screamo, but he does love a song with deep bass that shows strength in its tone and treble. It fits his bad boy image very well.

Although he does have a preference for romantic songs as well as anime intros. The romantic songs are obvious; he can relate to them well, but he’s a weeb as well considering he loves watching anime movies and reading manga. A good anime OP can get him pumped right in the mood depending on the genre (but mainly he watches sports stuff- he took a lot of moves and put them into his own after all!) and ready to enjoy a good show.

He’s not a fan of making music, but can appreciate the effort that goes into it; just like many things in life. It’s cool that someone can make something that manages to reach out to so many people. He’ll bob his head to a good tune, but he won’t dance, and sometimes even whistles things from time to time. Although he has no idea what a bpm even is he supports good wholesome music that’s great for sitting on the couch and chilling with his cat to.