#the drink is coffee that for some reason makes me sleepy instead

[riacte]

I really am grateful for the anons yelling in my inbox whenever stuff happens because: sometimes being in this fandom inspires a specific case of fomo in which if you don't pay attention to the specific things you like, there is a chance you will simply never see your sought-after crumbs or have no idea where to find it. A lot of the times a blessed person will put stuff in the maintags and you will thank them on your knees, but sometimes you will need to be that person and dig into four hours of transcript for a three second moment. Gotta pick up the shovel and dig up the treasure you seek.

Also I realise I feel obliged to stick to False to blog from her POV. Like yeah I need to yap about her because someone else will liveblog the other hermit POVs so I'll know about the highlights of other teams.

Anyways I am SO prepared for the massive fomo this MCC will bring. Take my hand, close your eyes and ears, it is alright to know about NOTHING. What's this new funny clip with 1k notes on your dash. What's this new duo that popped up. New strats for the new game. New meta. Idk my brain doesn't have enough space. It's finals week. I don't know anything but I know I miss youuuu.

Finally: manifesting Lime vs Yellow. If only to throw it in the face of (not you MCCReddit) HC Reddit. Like haha the two hermit teams you gave less attention to are now in Dodgebolt weeee. The OGs Cub Iskall False woohoo. My BBC famous streamer in Dodgebolt <3

Anyways I shall be waiting for Obligatory Ren Mention somewhere in False's stream because it always happens 'cause chat misses doggy 😭

[hoseoksluna]

VAPOR, pt III. | jjk ft. myg

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc 

genre: smut

word count: 9.9k

summary: the naughtiest of times bring about the greatest of healing.

pinterest board: vapor

warnings: punishment, spanking, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), a little bit of ass play, cum eating, raw sex, multiple orgasms, sex toy included, praise kink, jk smokes:), jk also reveals a past pain:(

note: nawt my best work, but i guess it's alright:( here it is, my loves—the very end to the steam series. i enjoyed indulging myself in this world and i'd like to thank all of you for allowing me to do that. thank you so much for all the love and support. i do all of this for you:) wink wink. this is pure smut and nothing else, and i hope you like this at least a little bit. i love you all so much, pwease give me your feedback, thank you. <3

Jungkook thought brushing his teeth with you in the morning while you wore his boxers and stole one of his white, ribbed tank tops was heaven enough. That was until he couldn’t lay his sleepy gaze off of you when you sat on his balcony with a cigarette between your two fingers and a cup of strong coffee in the other two and your thumb. 

Still can’t. 

He’s never been a morning person. To him, all mornings resembled some kind of hell that you suffer through until afternoon rolls around until you finally awaken. But seeing you like this, delighted, with two of your pleasures… he might become an early bird. Wake up each morning with joy just to see yours. Just to watch you be at complete peace, puffing out the smoke out into the sun-breathed air. 

The weather is a stark contrast to yesterday’s funeral of clouds. Not one is in sight, sun rays envelop the heavens in a golden light that spills through your hair—half done in a messy knot of some sort at the back of your head while wisps of shorter strands frame your face and your neck. He’s given you his spirally hair tie that he wore in his pre-military days. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he told you how long he let his hair grow because he knew shaving his head was inevitable and it served as some kind of strange preparation for him. You brushed your fingers through his hair, then, unbelief painting your face in cutesy colors. As if you tried to feel the long-gone memory of his long tufts of hair that curled at the ends. He was so touched by it—maybe it’s one of the reasons why he can’t stop looking at you now.

It’s dawning on him that you love him. That you’re his. It wasn’t a dream, after all. 

And you’re such a stark image of effortless beauty—even with your puffy eyelids and mouth, with your healthily flushed cheeks. How can he not look at you… he fears if he does, you’ll disappear into the thin air. He can’t afford that, not when he went through so much pain to get to this point. 

This is his reality now. It’s difficult to get used to. He’d never thought he’d get this lucky. Perhaps, heaven does care about him, wants to see him after all, because it blessed him with you, blessed him with freedom that he can indulge in hand in hand with you. 

Jungkook feels an inkling to find a church and kneel at the altar. Thank God for what he’s done for him. Call his dad and tell him that he found Him.

The thought of how happy he’d be fills him with vigor redolent of the last of the summer creeping in. There’s so much of it that Jungkook finds it hard to breathe, his lungs taut with all this joy and love that he feels. 

It seems as though this time he will, in fact, live his life happily. Get rid of his alcoholic habits, drink from the fountain of you instead—make that a brand new habit. Keep his paints. Keep the memory of your features and your sleep-tousled hair engraved deeply in his brain so he can transfer it onto his sketchbook. Eternalize you for generations to come. Clutch those papers tight to his chest when God does take him to heaven once his time comes. 

Happiness. How did he deserve such a thing? 

He sighs, watches you suck the last of your cigarette. The sunlight radiates you with a glow too grand for his eyes to take in and as you breathe out the swirls of smoke, he has to look elsewhere. Your full breasts pebble against his tank top, too stretched out for your small form, and it douses him with liquid tendrils of desire for you. All due to the fact you’re wearing his clothes, that you’re bare underneath them, that your nakedness brought about so much pleasure for him last night—due to the very memory that you didn’t wear your underwear for him because they would get in his way. Fuck, his cock tightens under his joggers, the ones that match those you wore to bed. He hasn’t eaten yet and he thinks you’re the perfect choice of breakfast for the day. 

You put out your cigarette in the ashtray he found for you in the cabinet, left behind by the tenants that lived here before him, and a soft smile curls your slumber-kissed mouth. Your irises flick across the width of his chest, across his crossed forearms and biceps and your smile deepens. You cradle your cup of coffee in both of your hands, slouching in your chair. He’ll never tire of the way it feels to be looked at by you. The tendrils of desire thicken in him, flowing rapidly in his bloodstream. 

“What do you wanna eat for breakfast?” you ask, and there’s something dangerous about your eyes now, mingling with the light and joy, dimming it little by little. He likes it so much, likes your question all the more, that he props his elbows on his knees and hooks his fingers around the back of yours, thumbs fondling the round bones. 

The way his boxers don’t even cover the apex of your thighs, having ridden up so high—he stifles the hiss rising in his throat. They suit you so much he might let you keep them. That is, after he ruins them. 

“You,” he murmurs, smirking, and you grin at him so luminously that the speed of his bloodstream slows down. Suddenly, the movement of your hand as you set your cup down is in slow motion—your fingernails provoking him by lightly scratching down his forearms, too. You study his tattoos as you do it, your gaze darkening fully. 

You root them at the place, where he’s holding you. Palms flat against the back of his hands. Lean closer to him until you nudge your nose against his. The close proximity will always mess him up, no matter what. He feels himself bespangled by your light, by your celestiality, bringing in the heat until it’s all he knows. 

You. 

“What if I want to eat you first?” you whisper, head angling to kiss him on his jawline. Oh, he’s already done for; body charged with electricity all over. Your mouth closes over that bone so, so slowly, your tongue licking over that place in the same tempo, causing the hair on his body to stand up to attention. 

“Eat what?” He laughs through his nose and you take after him—your giggles a warm rumble that sends tingles down his back, even though all his body longs to do is whimper for you. He knows what you meant, but he simply wants to hear you say it. The memory of the way you rubbed your face in such a private part of him, not just once—but twice, floods his brain and he’s so hard for you that it’s unbearable. 

If he doesn’t get his release any time soon, he might combust. 

He’d much rather it happens in your mouth. Like it did in the dressing room last night. Oh, fuck. Those winged fuckers are going at it again in his stomach, bringing about his madness for you. 

“Your nose first, then your dick.” 

It’s now that he lets out that sound—he can’t help it, can’t hold it back. Might need that cigarette of yours, even though he only smokes casually. This is what you do to him. 

And you like that sound. You like it so much that you rise to your feet, only to straddle him. And, leaning back, he pushes you towards him until you’re flush against his body. To make you feel how aroused he is for you, your little pussy sitting against his imprint. At the feeling of it through such a thin barrier, you press your hum over his nose, kissing the ball of it with a sweet, soft giggle. His madness evolves into a frustration again and he wonders at the whole concept of it. Now that he has you all to himself, his sexual need for you tends to be on such a raging base, full of yearning, full of frenzy. So intense, so thunderous, so deafening. The world might break apart, fall upon every head with its destruction, if that need remains unfulfilled. 

It’s spine-chilling. Absolutely petrifying. And irrevocably thrilling with all its bolts of power. 

He kneads your bum with both of his hands, unraveling that melodramatic concept of his titillation for you with the strength he uses to squeeze your flesh with. Jungkook goes as far as to lift you onto your knees, raise the fabric of his boxers to reveal your skin and, holding it taut in his fist, he wetly kisses the red imprint of his hand that he left behind. 

And his need flutters with something still yet forbidden. 

Yours does, too. And it’s you who voices it out, setting it free like a bird that has been caged for centuries. It touches him, immensely—a deep sea of feelings resurfacing in him, sloshing to and fro, threatening to spill over. 

“Spank me.” 

Lust and love. A peculiar concoction of it that doesn’t exist in the realm of words. He feels it, feels it with every breath he takes. 

“I should, right?” he rasps, dragging his fingernails down your carmine bum, sneaking his fingers around the squishy bottom of the flesh. He might drench his joggers—he didn’t wear his boxers to sleep; you’re wearing them for him. “For wanting to bite my nose off.” He clicks his tongue, squeezing, other hand wraps around your waist, holding you still. “I should spank you until it hurts. Until you cry.” 

The most gentle of a moan spouts out of your mouth and he twitches, his need growing—all because you want it as much as he does.

Jungkook lifts his hand in a promise he’s about to do it and you shiver in anticipation. 

“Please,” is all you say, but he’s not going to give it to you. He places his hand back in a soft manner, lifting it again to tease you and you wiggle your butt, his boxers still tucked halfway in between, the flesh rippling and he groans. A sight to die for. “I deserve it. Please, do it. I want it.” 

He sighs, a wet spot forming in the place of the joggers where his tip is, and he can’t see anything. Can’t see shit when he lifts you up and takes you inside. Can’t see anything but you and the surface of his kitchen island, which he sets you down on, spreading your legs. 

Confused by the swift motion, you rise to your elbows, but he pushes you right back down—holding your hips in the air, just like he did last night. You will see what he’s about to do to you, nonetheless. No need for you to strain your arms. 

And when he closes his mouth over your clothed pussy, you roll your eyes back, moaning his name so loudly that it echoes throughout the kitchen, rooting around his dripping length. And his arousal for you is so overwhelming, so sensitive that one thrust of his hips against the fabric of his joggers brings him such pleasure coursing through his body that he might as well come like this. 

Jungkook rids you of his boxers in a blink of an eye, throwing them somewhere out of his sight. No need for them, either. 

Burying his nose in your clit as he licks your slit and plunges his tongue inside, he narrows his eyes at you as yet another wave of pleasure comes down upon him. This time from having you for breakfast, at last. You mewl so sweetly that it drives him to thrust his hips again and he groans, groans so deeply for you. Needs you to know what you’re doing to him. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he breathes out, lightly dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit before he swallows, hissing at the delight of your taste. You moan, trembling, barely able to take it. Fuck one day, he’s about to die now. “And you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking boy. Is that what you want?” 

Jungkook flicks your bud, fleetingly, just to make your sounds shudder in the sudden intensity. You clench your small fists in the air, your tremor so terribly visible and rigorous, and with your breath hitching in your throat, he sucks that delicious part of you into his mouth. 

You stammer, badly enough that he begins to feel a sliver of pity for you, not enough for him to stop. He’s ravaging your little princess parts so hard that it takes a few tries for you to get the words out in a steady flow and he doesn’t help you. Doesn’t ease up for you, at all. Flicking, sucking, licking you up all over, rolling his tongue—he simply doesn’t stop, does it so fast that you lose yourself in it, submitting to it with all your being. 

And along with your submission come out your words. 

In perfect fashion.

“No, I want to suck you off.” 

And along with those your orgasm, too. 

Jungkook watches you take it, eyes lidded heavily, take all the pleasure he gives to you as it unfolds throughout your quivering body that he holds tightly in his grasp so you wouldn’t fall over. He sucks your clit until his mouth goes numb, opening it to drink you, not letting a drop of your nectar go to waste. You struggle to reciprocate the eye contact and he finds it so endearing that he wants to make you come all over again. 

Setting you down, he caresses your wet little pussy with his thumb, palm spread wide across his tank top clothing your tummy. And while you try to catch your breath, he sends rays of his affection down to her the more he looks at her. He loves her so much that he bends down and kisses her. Over and over. Kisses the hickey he left on your left fold, the one below your hip bone as well. And then, he glances at you. Flushed and glowing, a personification of light. A girl most satisfied. So beautiful.

You sit up and the feeling of the coldness of the marble against your sensitive seashell makes you let out a whine, biting your lip briefly before you enclose it around his. You moan into the kiss and Jungkook knows why. He deepens it, hands drifting down your full breasts, your stiffened nipples. The touch makes you hum and grind your pussy against the island, opening your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, playing with you, beckoning out your mouth-watering little whines. And when his fingers reach the hem of his tank top, he takes it off of you—your breasts bouncing, the wet spot in his joggers enlarging. 

In this position, you’re forehead to forehead. And this time, he doesn’t want to kiss you. No, he wants to talk. 

“You taste good, don’t you?” Jungkook husks, an allusion to the way you moaned into the kiss, fists on either side of your outstretched thighs. You bite your lip and furrow your brows, a hand sneaking around his neck. Such horny expression, scraping his madness raw. He’s greedy for more; wants to bleed for you. “Tell me. Tell me how good you taste.” 

You sink your teeth so hard into your bottom lip at his words that you whimper once you let go, the pillow so reddened, so cute. The wrinkle between your brows deepens and you grind your hips again. Oh, he’ll put his hand there, on your still needy pussy, as soon as you answer him. 

And you do—and his whole bloodstream lines with a river of flames.

“I taste so good,” you whine and he rewards you for your goodness, for that heat. Places his fingers flat underneath your clit, palm up. You immediately roll your hips forward and whisk your eyes back. That sensitive you are, after such an intense orgasm. He swears. Takes it as a sign to rub your bud and, pushing them back with one hand, he gathers your slick and smears it upon it, making it all the more pleasurable for you. Gusts of breaths emit out of your mouth, intertwining with the squeaky sounds of your juices and Jungkook almost drools, aching to eat you out all over again. The feeling of your parted lips, your slipperiness, the softness of your swollen bud—he grows desperate for it. 

But he wants you to come like this, too.

“Ride my fingers,” he whispers, just for you to hear and not the angels surrounding him, whose favor he gained. “Come on. Grind your pussy on them, sweetheart.” 

You mewl and you listen, straightening your spine. Use his shoulders for stability as you swing your hips back and forth. The silkiness of your flesh, the wetness that makes this a smooth ride for you—he moans, sucking in his breath each time. And then you become so terribly whiny, eyes squeezed tight, that he can’t help but to strum your clit as fast as he can. Your shudders begin again, your breasts rippling and he just thinks they’re asking for his tongue. 

A flick of the muscle on your nipple. You cry out, arching your back, halting the movement of your pelvis and he takes over. Takes merely a minute to make you come all over his hand and scream out his name. 

And then… then he grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you in—almost nose to nose. A gesture to make you listen. To make you pay attention to the words he wants to say to you. 

“This is what you deserve,” he purrs, speaking of the former mention of punishment, studying the way your eyes grow bigger than they already are. “To come again and again for me—and what’s more, I’m not finished with you yet. That wasn’t your last orgasm.” 

You mewl and it seems that it’s all that you’re capable of uttering, the clitoral orgasm stealing all of your vocabulary. 

Or at least he thought so. 

“But I want you to spank me,” you say, your voice a satiny softness. “I want it so bad that I’ll do anything for it.” 

Jungkook doesn’t know what’s more stimulating—whether the beauty of your strength or the sinfulness of your craving. The flames in him reach higher highs, burning his skin in a way that unfussily forces him to give you what you want; give in to you, surely and wholly.  

“Is that so?” 

You nod, leaning over and closing your mouth over the side of his neck, sucking the skin, making his eyes roll back. And when you begin to focus on his ear, your fingers sinking in his hair, he truly just might submit to that specific craving of yours, even though he wanted to save it for the cabin. 

He might just give you a taste of it now. 

It looks like you’re ready for it, but if he finds that your healing is incomplete, he’ll take care of you, undo the wrongness, distract your thoughts and fold your emotions into a cocoon of his love. 

Pulling you away from him, he lifts you off the island and bends you over it. You giggle in triumph and the dulcet sound falters once he brushes your hair back and, pressing his length against your bare bum, he reciprocates the same treatment you gave to him. He doesn’t destroy your neck more than he already has—he barely has any space left to scatter it with hickeys and he doesn’t wish to cause you discomfort. No, he mouths your ear and kisses the very unmarked skin beneath it, nibbling it ever so gently. 

It’s only when you circle your hips against him that he rips that gentleness away and bites, making you groan out. 

“So that’s what my sweetheart wants,” he breathes, hands drifting to the crooks of those hips, right where your thighs begin, cooling the flames he spat onto that sensitive spot of yours. “Pain.” 

The collision of his palm against your cheek is what steals your breath and you whimper in elation. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” 

He does it again, a bit harder this time, just to hear those delectable words, just to make sure you’re comfortable, rubbing your skin to soothe the sting. And when you pinch your nipples and moan, he gets on his fucking knees for you. Such a good girl; a strong angel.

At your ever persisting service. Eternal. 

Spreading you apart, he catches your dripping slick with his tongue and pushes it back inside, thumbing your other tiny hole—pulling away momentarily to spit on it, smearing the lubrication there before circling it. Jungkook hears the soft thud of your head slumping against the kitchen island and you take it, take his abuse so well that he rewards you by flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. Over and over until there’s another thing he hears. 

He hears your phone ring. 

His stomach drops. He knows full well who’s calling. And you prove his deduction right. 

“It’s Yoongi,” you sigh, a bit of vexation evident in your voice, and Jungkook buries his face in your pussy, humming into her, purposefully. “Vi-video calling me yet ah-a-again. Oh, fuck.” 

Pleased, he laughs. “Let it ring.” Doesn’t give two shits that he’s calling, but is a little annoyed that he keeps bothering you. 

It doesn’t lessen his fire, though. 

“But.” He withdraws to let you talk. Doesn’t take his eyes off of the glistening of your flesh. “If I tell him off and if he sees what you’re doing to me, he’ll stop calling me.” 

His fire thickens, thrilling tendrils absorbing it. Very well. “Such a smart girl. Go for it, then.” He punctuates his sentence with a curt spank and you jump, rising onto your tippy toes as you curl your back, moans echoing. He caresses your legs all over, mouth latching over your slightly reddened cheek. Thinks it’s a perfect place for another hickey. And as he sucks the supple skin, he sinks a finger inside your heat, your walls welcoming him in. 

You answer the phone with a moan. “I’m busy.” 

You’ve placed your hand to the edge of the island, so Jungkook has a perfect view of what’s currently happening. You’ve hidden your squished breasts behind your forearm—like you did the first time he’d laid his eyes on you via Yoongi’s phone. How the tables have turned is so mind-boggling to him that it drives him to twirl circles on your other tiny hole, eating your ass with such verve that you can’t contain your sounds, especially not when he begins to caress your sweet little spot with his curling fingers. 

Your legs begin to shake. 

Yoongi calls you by your name. “What the fuck is this?” 

“W-what does it look like?” you retort, grinning, looking back at Jungkook, catching his glance. He sends you rays of his love, eyes crinkling, the tip of his tongue finally penetrating inside. “I’m getting my ass eaten and you’re—” You suck a breath in, trying your hardest to remain calm and not succumb to the pleasure. Jungkook worsens it for you; he syncs his finger and his tongue, fucking you in one fast rhythm in both holes at the same time, and your stammer returns. “You-you’re disturbin’ me, oh fuck.” You pant, heavily, letting go of your phone and scratching your nails down the surface, trying to grab onto something, anything. Jungkook hums, endearingly, and catches both of wrists in his hand at the small of your back. Seeing you bound like this, bound in pleasure mainly, while on the phone with your ex-boyfriend almost makes him come in his fucking pants. “I don’t want to fucking come looking at your face. I’m not on your timeline, stop calling me.” 

Oh, Jungkook wouldn’t even let you—and the reason why he intensified your pleasure was to spite your ex-boyfriend. It seems as though it worked because Yoongi remains silent, at loss for words in most probability, and you consider your job done, tugging up your arm. 

“Let me hang up,” you whisper to him and Jungkook loosens his fingers for you, the sound of the call ending etching a smirk on his face. 

He straightens his form and, turning you around, he pins you against the island, his smirk only widening. The love, the proudness he carries in his heart for you, the freedom that oozes out of his every pore—he uses it to kiss you, tenderly. Fights hard to stifle his grin, to mold his lips into yours, but to no avail. You mirror his expression of joy, looking up at him, both of your wrists back in his hold behind your back. 

“You took your spanks so well, enjoyed them,” he murmurs his praise, his other hand clasping around your binding. “Didn’t even think once about the past. And to top it all off, you basically told your ex-boyfriend to fuck off. Moaned your lungs out. I’m in awe,” he continues, his voice dropping an octave lower, meaning every word. “I’m in awe of you. What a good girl you are. The best.”

The glint in your irises bursts and spreads all around, your eyes becoming two lighthouses that gain a new instinct to bring him home, whatever form that might spur into. You blush for him, taken aback by his praise, and your lashes flutter so prettily that he grows weak in the knees. His reactions are constant, never-changing when it comes to you and he finds so much beauty in them, in you that he feels as though it’s golden sand in his fingers and all he longs to do is finish his job like you did. You rouse the inspiration in him—you always have.

And listening to his body, he stumbles back into his former position. On his knees for you, at your ever fucking eternal service. And he makes you come with his fingers stuffed in your heat and his tongue flicking your clit until your knees give out as well and he has to take you then and there. Against the window on the other side, your pleasured body embraced, almost, by the golden aura that spills from the sunlight. And he opens it out, stretches it, with every word that trickles out of his mouth and into yours with every swift stroke. A bunch of rays of ‘You’re mine’, ‘My pretty, tight pussy’ and ‘Good girl, take it all, it’s all yours’ permeate your skin, lighting you up from beneath and when you come around his cock, your light doesn’t fade into his and leave you barren. No, it melts, a conscious, ever-flowing stream, into him and soaks him up. It’s still one singular light, but in two bodies. 

And the two loads he filled you up with caused weariness to drop so heftily on you that he bathed you in the tub. Scrubbed you clean. Washed your hair. Made you smell like him. Was extra careful when touching the hickeys he left behind on your body, the other unmarked parts of you handled with similar care. 

He didn’t even forget about your candle. Borrowed them your shared light and you kissed him quite sweetly for it. 

Even when he dressed you in his clothes. A pair of old baggy jeans that don’t fit him anymore and the same white tank top, a clean one, fragrant with the wholeness of summer he will perpetually connect with you. You pecked him so cutely when he tapped your waist, signaling that you’re all done. He knows it was the deepest thank you that you could’ve ever expressed to him. And he hugged you, hugged you so tight that you merged into him, bunching your wet hair in his fist. 

It didn’t dry up until he parked by the cabin. Having curled into winsome waves, he couldn’t stop touching them when he lead you towards the front door and, most peculiarly, it ached when he had to let go in order to unlock the door. 

His clinginess to you constringes the longer he spends time in your presence and because you’ve graced him with such freedom, he doesn’t mind. Not one bit. You show no signs of being irritated by it and it causes him to think that, perhaps, when God made you, He put some mechanism in you that needs it. Just like he planted those roots of clinginess in him—for no one else but you to receive, to carry, to take care of. 

It’s what he thinks about when he makes you lunch while you smoke on the balcony, having finished with the fresh drinks you made for yourself and him. Elderberry with lemon and ice, with funky, colorful straws once again left behind by the past tenants, ready on the dining table. This time you will actually sit down to eat and Jungkook won’t get kissed on the face by the strong knuckles of his once-close friend. 

An emotion stirs within him as he flips the meat on the small indoor grill. Tears prick in his waterline because despite the fact he enjoyed spiting him, he still wonders how he’s handling this. Mourns the loss. Probably will for some time. There’s a certain freshness to it that won’t let go of him. 

Those liquid feelings almost dissipate when you wrap your arms around him from behind and kiss his spine. He’s not matching you that much—is wearing the only clean laundry he had. A white oversized tee, a zipper hoodie of the same color with jeans. But he feels the love you press onto his back as if your lips touch his bare skin, singing the two layers through and through. 

Jungkook reckons you’re saving him as you’re lingering there with your face buried between his shoulder blades. Saving him from spilling. 

“I can’t wait to visit the pond once we’re finished with our food,” you murmur and Jungkook hums in response, placing the rest of the meat onto a plate. 

“It’s done, we can eat now,” he croaks out, his voice touched by the residue of his emotions and you rub his belly with your hands. He smiles, fondly, at the gesture. You just keep on saving him.

“Do you think the water is cold?” 

Considering the rain that would not leave for days, the water is anything but suitable for swimming. And when he turns around, he meets your mischief, playfully toying with your features. A curled smirk, lifted brows, light flickering in your eyes, reflected in your lashes. He might let you dip your toe in. Just one. 

Only because you depict such distinct beauty and he can’t resist it. Can’t resist you, even if he tried his hardest. 

“Too cold,” he says, however. Just as playfully. “Freezing.” 

Helping him with the plates, you sit down to eat and before you dig in, you thank him once again in the form of a peck. Oh, he might spill, ultimately. In a much different way. Melt into liquid love for you—a putty at your disposal. He’s never come across someone as sweet as you. 

“My sweetheart, enjoy your food.” 

A sliver of comfortable silence hangs in the air as you finish your food and once he downs the drink you made for him, a different type of hunger itches in his throat. 

A hunger for a cigarette. 

He watches you as you take his plate and bring it into the kitchen, never forgetting to at least graze one part of your body as you depart away from him, his clinginess a full blown, ceaseless stream and when you come back to him and take his hand, he remains seated. Looks up at you. Is probably giving you a nasty set of puppy eyes, he can’t tell. Doesn’t really care. Interlocks his fingers with yours and brings your knee in between his. Just because. 

“You know what I want right now?” he says, stroking the back of your thigh, and you smile down at him all excitedly. “A cigarette.” 

You squeal and he didn’t expect such sound to come out of you, such display of joy at such mindless thing. You quiver, taking his other hand and pulling him to his feet. Grab your pack and lighter and drag him out to the balcony. 

And with a cigarette of your own hanging from your lips, you sink the butt of the spare one between his, your lighter ready in your hand, flicking it to life. Then, a sudden gust of wind blows your hair in front of your face in a grand, sublime way, the clouds shrouding the sunlight, a layer of grayness dispersing across the atmosphere. Jungkook is mesmerized, completely, strands of your hair tickling your cheeks as you focus on lighting his cigarette, such serious expression coating you. 

He almost forgets to suck on the cigarette when you cup the lighter, protecting the flame from the breath of the autumn slinking in. How can someone be so beautiful, so caring? He could’ve lighted up his hunger himself, but no—you wanted to do it. 

And because of that, he steals your cigarette and grabs your cheek in one hand, careful not to break it. Taking a delightful drag, he opens your mouth and puffs it inside. Watches you swallow it down, your eyes narrowed in a foreign pleasure, and to reward you, he kisses you deeply. But at the taste of his hunger on your tongue, the kiss grows tempestuous. He devours your mouth, makes it puffy all over again, and something else grows hard in tandem. 

Something in his pants. 

And the way you kiss him back—he has to physically pull himself away from you in order not to take you right here, in order not to bend you over this railing and bury himself so deeply inside you that all the animals in the forest scurry away at the sound of your squeaks. Much, much different ones. 

His body tingles, looking at you panting, longs to kiss you again—bring that notion into reality. It’s not merely you who’s become aroused because one swift glance over your body clad in his clothes reveals that you have, too. Your stiffened nipples protrude through his tank top and he has to hold onto that railing and take a deep drag of his cigarette in order to stick to his composure like his life depends on it. 

Perhaps, it truly does. 

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he comments, mirroring your former actions—placing the cigarette between your lips that willingly open for him, lighting it up. “It’s crazy. I can’t spend one minute in your presence without wanting to fuck you brainless. What are you doing to me, huh?” 

You blush, but he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Thinks he should change his ways and call you beautiful more often, so you learn what a true compliment is, despite the fact how hard he finds it. His lungs constrict, choking the life out of him that you gave him—an unfond memory clouding his sight.

A blond set of hair swishing past. A roll of eyes as he threw that compliment in her way. The dismissal that still lives in him.   

“You sure it’s me?” you retort, angling your head to the side, two fingers widening slightly as you suck on your cigarette. You tossed the memory away and cuddled his headspace. “Maybe you have a problem.” 

Oh, he remembers this feistiness of yours. Missed it, dearly. Makes his cock needy. Even more prominently so now—now that you clothed him in healing. 

“True, one taste of you and I’ve become a nymphomaniac,” he says with a mighty, peculiar easiness. Clicks his tongue. “I guess I should go to therapy.” 

Your blush deepens and you hide your laughter behind your busy palm. Jungkook shakes his head, not believing something like that could flush your face like this with such rosy, radiant color. He pulls you towards himself, squeezes your bum. Takes a drag, loving the burn in his throat. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, fondling the sweet color of your cheek with his thumb. The smoke from his cigarette curls around your wavy hair. “Do you even know how beautiful you are?” 

It’s you who shakes your head and you place your palm flat on his chest. A gasp leaves your mouth when he spanks you for your disagreement. Then, your mouth ends tip. 

Jungkook laughs, softly. “Run. And if I catch you, I spank you again. On your bare bum this time.” 

He pushes you and you squeal, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs down that lead to the pond. He could run after you to make you happy—it doesn’t matter he’s wearing his home slides. He’s danced with them, even barefooted, so this is no big deal for him. But he wants to give you the thrill of the chase, so, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray, right next to yours, he slides his hands into his front pockets and waits until you’re halfway there at the pond. Then, then, he slowly makes his way down. 

You’ve stopped, however. Half turned, you watch him as he chases you down Michael Myers style. And when he’s at arms-length distance away from you, you begin to run away and this time your feet acknowledge themselves with the wood of the dock that floats above the surface of the still water. There’s nowhere for you to go and he fears you’ll jump into the water. Or, maybe you just want to get spanked that badly. 

He’s about to find out. 

Gray shadows envelop you, choking out your squeals again when you see Jungkook running after you and you edge dangerously close to the end, bum leaning against the ladder going down. 

He lifts his palm, signaling you to stop right there. 

And you surprise him. You kick your feet into momentum and as you run and collide into him, you throw him into the water. 

The iciness of the water stings and his breath lodges in his throat, submerged. Paralyzation takes a hold of him, but not enough for his body to emerge to the surface. He rubs his eyes as he inhales deeply, shaking off the water from his hair like a dog, his eyesight slowly unblurring and he sees you laughing. The trees bend at the sound, sighing along and the wind, once again, stills. 

You even have the nature wrapped around your finger, not just him. And he can’t be mad at you, not when your girlish giggles spark up a joy in his heaving chest, ridding him of the coldness he feels. 

But that doesn’t mean he won’t punish you for it. 

You asked for it. 

He swims to the dock and pulls himself up. The ease he did it with, his wet clothes that cling to his body and accentuate his muscles, it causes your dulcet laughter to falter, little by little and you back away from him. 

That aches a tiny bit. He relaxes his face, in case that’s what drove you to do that and he unzips his hoodie, throwing it at your feet. His T-shirt comes next and you swallow, dryly, your eyes drifting along his pecs and abdominal muscles. 

You hiss at the cold sensation of his knuckles against the fine sliver of skin of your stomach, the dip between the hem of his tank and his jeans as he unbuttons them and harshly tugs them down. You let him, placing your hands on his shoulders once he kneels and lifts both of your feet, folding the denim and flinging it onto the pile of his sopping hoodie. Your socks and his boxers follow along, leaving behind only his tank top. 

Bunching it in his fist, he tightens his mouth in a narrow line and pulls you in. More to cover you from the cold than to soak you and he raises his palm until it levels with your shoulder blade before he spanks you. The slapping noise vibrates through the canopy of the trees and he likes to think the weeping willow in his peripheral vision trembled at the reverberations. 

“That’s for me catching you.” 

Another spank. On the other cheek. Just as hard. 

“That’s for the way you pushed me into the water.” You don’t make a sound, only tiny little breaths spill out of your mouth as your big eyes ogle his dripping face. Taking it so well that his cock, achefully, hardens even more. “All this fucking forest all around and you decided to get on here, on this dock. Push me in.” A spank. “In the freezing.” Another one. “Fucking water.” Another. 

You moan, swaying on your feet and he straightens you, grabs your wrist and wraps it around the nape of his neck. 

“And this.” Jungkook licks his fingers, sneaks them between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it rapidly. “This is for the way you enjoy it. Enjoy being spanked. Being punished. Enjoy being a bad little sweetheart.” 

You moan, a wrinkle between your brows, and your legs begin to quiver, your orgasm fast approaching. And the fire in him, created by your playfulness and his own words, he becomes it. Like you’re the personification of light, he’s the flames that keep it warm. An oxymoron most profound, most perfect, unseen by the world. 

He rips your orgasm away. Spanks you. Kneads your ass. You whine so terribly that it beckons his pity. Enough for him to creep his thigh in between yours, grasp your hips and make you ride it. 

“You wanted me wet, so get off on it,” he orders, unlatching his hands, taking off the tank top and fisting your hair, trusting you to hump him well enough on your own. “I know you like it cold, so grind that pussy on my thigh. And don’t stop until you come.”

It’s fast, the way you move your hips and bring yourself to the absorption of your climax. You look at him the whole way through and Jungkook nods with his bottom lip between his teeth, encouraging you to ride out the wave. 

“Good girl, coming so fast. Get on your knees.” 

He takes off his even more drenched pants. You wait for him with an open mouth and he senses the welcoming embrace of death. 

When he plunges his length into that salivating hole, it’s his fire that he feeds you. Despite the coldness, pearls of sweat adorn your forehead and Jungkook grips your hair and fucks your mouth, not letting you be in control, uttering his guttural moans lowly. 

“That’s what you get, my love.” 

You swallow around him in response and his life flashes before his eyes. Pictures of you, pictures of this cabin dressed in all of the seasons and he halts his thrusts. Pushes your head, instead. Back and forth until he can’t fucking take it anymore. 

Your spit trickles down onto the wood. Tears line your vision. Hard, shiny cock in your face. He tells you what he thinks of the sight. 

“So beautiful. Look at how hard and wet you made it. You deserved every inch down in that pretty throat of yours.” 

It’s a start. Still has a demon on his own to conquer, one that sits around somewhere deep in his chest, where a string of his past relationship makes dents in his lungs. One that he doesn’t want to admit he still has. One that he’s learned to forget about. 

But he is changing his ways. For you. 

You moan and scratch your nails down his thighs, the fire forming into an animal in you. A feral, little thing that knows what it needs. And he’s going to give it to you, mind already working on the forgetting. 

“I love your cock. It’s all mine.” You mouth it, glide your puffy lips upon its length and despite the pleasure he gets from it, he pushes you away. 

Straddles your hips. Turns you onto your tummy. Knows the personal cock time was too brief for you, but he can’t risk having his orgasm like this. 

“Yes, my love, all yours. And I’m gonna fuck that brain out of your head with it.” 

You mewl. “Yes, please.” 

In contrary to your words, you try to crawl away when he sinks himself inside, your nails making pretty music on the wood. He brings you right back to him. Presses you down flat with his hand on your back. All while still inside of you. You sputter out your moans and, licking his thumb, he circles your other hole, making them grow in volume. 

“No, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. You can take it. Believe in yourself the way I believe in you.” 

The strokes he gives you are hard, engraving your rose tattoos made of hickeys onto the dock and he realizes that’s exactly what he wants. He desires to have everything he owns smell like you, look like you and carry remnants, memories and keepsakes of you for generations to come. And so he fucks you not only harder, but faster. 

Thinks your back is awfully bare and missing the rest of the marks. 

Jungkook bites onto the skin above your shoulder blade and you catch him off guard. 

“Jungkook, I’m gonna come like this.” 

He hums, fondly. How quickly your walls have gotten used to accommodating him. “Not yet, my love.” 

Swiveling you, he hooks your knees onto his shoulders, sinking back into you this way—sinking back home. 

And it begins to rain. 

Jungkook hears the touch of the droplets upon the surface of the pond first before the same ones pelt down his back. And the briskness that affects him, the conjunction of an autumn kissed by the last of summer—it drives him to crush his lips onto yours with such vigor that he hopes the autumn, at the sight of it, will be here to stay, in all its wholeness. No more triggers of the past seasons. Newness, only. Singularity. 

He doesn’t carry you away from the rain. No, he hides you with his own body. Takes every hit from the ruthless downpour for every lash across your heart, for every scar etched for all eternity on its flesh. Hands cradling your head, the broadness of his back a cover for the top half of your body and you keep him there with your hands gripping his hair, holding on for dear life. It stimulates him enough to fuck you just as hard, imprinting the lines of the wood onto your back. 

Not so bare anymore. 

You could never be an empty canvas. Not with him. 

Not when you care for him in the midst of the pleasure. 

“Jungkook, ah, you’re go-gonna catch a cold.” 

He kisses you for it, terribly touched. “But it feels so good.” A languid stroke, the squelching of your pussy; he rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath. “Come for me and I’ll get you inside.” 

He picks up the pace, seizing your pleasure. But then you start moving your hips up and down and he feels you fill up every dent in his heart with each movement, each moan, each squeeze of your walls. And when you make yourself come on his cock, he considers himself strong enough to tell you all about it later. 

Carrying you inside while hiding your head from the rain in the crook of his neck, he takes you up to his room and sets you down like the princess you are underneath the ivory canopy above his bed. Senses your irises digging little pursed pecks into his back as he rummages in his dresser, fishing out a pink bottle of lube and a dildo. Smaller than his length, but almost the same as his girth. Skin-like. With balls attached. 

He’s smirking as he swivels, joy evident on his face. He’s eager to watch you ride it and your two lighthouses for eyes divulge to him just as how excited you are yourself. 

You spread your feet for him once he’s an inch away from you, smiling from ear to ear. “Fuck me with it,” you purr, wrapping your legs around his torso. 

Even the most solemn man in the world wouldn’t be able to not grin at this moment. Too bad he wouldn’t let him near you. His heart pounds, aches to say no to you, but he simply wants to watch you ride it. 

“No, sweetheart. I want to watch.” 

You frown. “But you haven’t cummed yet.” 

He caresses your small pout and you kiss his thumb. His smile widens. “That’s okay.” He might be throbbing, but watching you bounce on a silicone dick will bring him a great deal of pleasure, nonetheless. 

“Then, touch yourself for me.” 

He hums, his heart lodged in his throat. The turning of tables must be in the script to this movie that he considers his life shared with you. And he likes it more than he’s able to comprehend amidst his intense arousal. 

“You have to ride it well, then.” 

You suck on his thumb momentarily, a smirk quirking your lips. “I’ll do my best.” 

“I know you will.” 

Pecking you shortly, he squirts a ton of lube on the dildo and all around your princess parts, rubbing your clit to tease you. The gasp you let out causes him to laugh softly in endearment and then…

Then, he leaves you to it. 

Sitting back in his rocking chair, he fists his cock, the leftover lube making a squeaky sound on his skin. You get on your knees, line yourself up and Jungkook tugs down his foreskin for you, allowing you to see the drops of his male essence oozing out. It turns you on to the point that you moan and bite your lip, sinking down on the toy and he’s breathless. 

“Fuck, it’s not as big as you,” you whine, sitting down on it, fully, maintaining eye contact with him. His heart thuds in harsh staccatos. “I barely feel anything.” 

A sly remark about your ex-boyfriend’s length is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. Doesn’t want to ruin the moment. He’s not a constant presence. Not anymore. So why bring him back? 

And what’s more, you’re lying. Because when you begin to bounce, tentatively, your eyes whisk back and you pinch your nipples, the squelching sound of your pretty little pussy driving him to fuck his fist just once. He knows if he keeps going, he might miss the whole experience, plagued by the shadow of his pleasure. He palms his balls instead, his cock protruding from the crook between his fingers and his thumb. Still wet from you. 

“Harder,” he commands, squeezing his balls when you listen and he hisses, fights with all his strength not to flutter his eyes closed like his body is begging him to. He can’t miss this. It’s too good to miss. He bites down on his lip. 

“Jerk off that cock, please,” you plead, your breasts bouncing and he bites down harder, the fire in him burning off his skin. “It doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.” 

He swears and begins to move his hand, gliding up and down, pressure hard. “Are you imagining it’s me?” 

“Yes, oh my God. I’m riding you and it feels so fucking good, Jungkook.” 

He moans, focusing on his sensitive head. Tips his chin up. Doesn’t break the eye contact. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.” 

The praise gets to you and your fingers sneak to your clit, rubbing fast little circles—and just like that he nears to the edge. Whimpering for you, he fucks his cock harder. Hot flashes surround your flushed face and you mimic his sounds. 

That’s his very fucking undoing. 

Getting on his feet, he paints your breasts and tummy white and you begin to shudder, his orgasm coaxing yours. You pinch your little hard nubs—and it’s almost like you’re milking him dry, spurts after spurts making new tattoos on your torso, white roses to mingle with your red and purplish ones. 

And his woozy brain can’t help but to look forward to see them fade to yellow. 

He kisses you so hard that he doesn’t feel you breathe and when he pulls away, he collects his cum and feeds it to you. Can’t have it go to waste when he knows what he’s planning for you. 

“That was so good,” he whispers, sealing such an intimate moment with another ravenous kiss. 

He doesn’t let you respond—he pins you back. Ass up, face down. Squirts lube all over that deliciousness and when he glances over at the ruined dildo, he whistles. Pearls after pearls of your girlish essence trickle down the length and he shows it to you. Hard all over again. 

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praises and your eyes widen in that familiar way he likes, mouth parting, blush deepening. “Stick out your tongue.” You listen, so fucking well, and he plunges the silicone tip inside your mouth, circling it around that willing muscle. “That’s it, lick it up, sweetheart.” 

You look up at him as you do it, making smacking sounds, so terribly fucked out. Jungkook has to grip your hair in order to hold on to the last of his composure, and when you begin to suck on it—he can’t take it anymore. 

He fucks you with it. Fucks you into the mattress. Punishing you for the things you do to him, for the fire that grows hotter and hotter in his veins. And he loves you, dearly, with the entirety of his being, that his fingers cannot physically stay away from your little sopping clit. 

Neither can they when you come and gush out your arousal. Neither can they when he switches the dildo with his cock, raises you in the air and fucks you so hard, whispering little praises and sweet little nothings—“I’m getting you used to taking it from behind, my love. You’re doing so good. You’re so beautiful. So damn pretty.”—that you and he both, completely and wholly, fall apart when you come together. 

He loves you dearly enough that he can’t stop falling apart even in the shower. 

He tells you of the demon living in his chest. 

“When we’re together, I feel you healing me. I feel you giving me chances to live on with my life, do the things I’m scared of or wary of. Like today, when you didn’t believe me when I’d told you you were beautiful. I felt that fear I had in me for years, but saying it to you made it seem like nothing. There used to be a girl I was in love with. Whenever I would tell her things like this, she’d scrunch up her nose. It wasn’t enough for her. Her pride was too big for my words. I kept giving and giving and it was never enough. But when I give to you, you take it and you live with it and I can see it on you. I can see you wear it proudly. I can even see it now. And it’s so beautiful. So healing.” 

You kissed his scars. Kissed his hands. His neck. Washed him clean. Hugged him under the hot downpour of the shower. Reminded him of the way he healed you. Told him all the small details he never knew—and it only proved his words, tightened his love for you. 

He knows from this moment on that you will be the mother of his children. He’s not letting you go. Not until the day he dies. 

And the first shower he shared with you… Jungkook sketched it down that very night as you and him sipped on wine, listening to music. And he brimmed with the longing to bring it onto a canvas. Splatter it with colors. Purples and reds, with tiny hints of yellow that are about to appear on your body. 

And he will. Hang it up in this very cabin. The eternal keepsake of the movie that his life has become. 

It has been several months of living this cinematic life with you. Weekends spent at the cabin, the weekdays spent separately, save for the regular dates. Dinners, trips, sight-seeing. A slow life filled with brand new art supplies, a pile of sketchbooks adorning the walls of his bedrooms. Both at his own apartment and the cabin. And another adornment has come to live with you and him, one of life-long permanency. 

He sealed your exclusive relationship with a matching tattoo. 

“Sweet” lines your left rib whereas “Heart” lines his—right above the mole you’ve come to love so much. Red ink, an illusion to your red roses, the dress you’ve worn for him on several occasions. Visiting him out of the blue in the middle of the week with black lingerie underneath and a trench coat to cover you up. Mindlessly at the cabin one weekend when drinking wine, smoking together on the balcony, listening to the whispers of the willow tree. And once on the last warm day of autumn, during which he paid you back for the way you had pushed him into the water of the pond. Just like he’d done the first time, he tossed you in, joining you right after, fucking you in the dress. He had eternalized it that very night, sitting by an easel. Paintings of you, some of both you and him, hang on the walls of the cabin. In the living room, in the bedroom. Everywhere one looks, one finds the scenes of your movie—and it brings him joy unlike any other. 

Yoongi… he hadn’t called you since that fateful day. You’d made the arrangements to see him after a month or so. Found out he was seeing a therapist. 

Quite literally. 

He’s banging his male therapist.

The information enveloped you in a dimmed glow. You were shocked, first and foremost, because you had no idea Yoongi liked men. Jungkook did, so it wasn’t a surprise to him—what was more of a groundbreaking surprise to him was the fact you didn’t know. That he never cared to tell you. 

And he never pushed it aside. As a matter of fact, he told him off about it the first time he saw him after everything. 

Yoongi cared very little because he considered the chapter finished. A similar light swathed him tautly, one he’d never seen on him, and Jungkook agreed. The chapter is finished. No need to get all hot again. 

Yoongi forgave him. Found love. Found healing. But he didn’t maintain his relations with you. Neither did he with Jungkook.

And while it hurt for a little while, Jungkook figured that maybe it was meant to be like this all along. 

He and you. A singularity. 

The nonexistent gap between the word sweetheart. 

No third party. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Get Some Rest

Warnings: Mentions of a bau case, brief mention of drinks with Garcia, reader is sleep deprived, fluff!, some pining, no established relationship, that should be all but let me know if I missed anything<3

Word count: 1.3k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

A/n: This was something that the lovely @criminalskies asked for and I was very happy to deliver! I hope you enjoy it sweetheart<3.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

Hotch can always tell when you’re not doing so well.  Whether it’s because the case is extra tough on you for some reason.  Or you’re not getting enough sleep.  Whatever the reason may be, he just knows when you aren’t okay.  

The team is currently on a case and you are all in the precinct unfortunately having to wait for the unsub’s next move.  You are all lost and all you can do is wait for the unsub to slip up and leave something behind.  You’ve all tried to figure this guy out but none of you are getting anywhere with this case and it’s exhausting you all, but Aaron can tell it’s really bothering you even more.  He doesn’t know why it’s getting to you, but that’s not his main concern with you right now.  For now, it’s just him wanting to help you however he can.

You’re sitting down and hunched over a file that you can hardly read.  You’re so tired that all of the words seem to be blurring together and coming off of the page, the same page that you have been trying to read for about ten minutes now but you can’t comprehend anything on it.  The entire team is tired but you are completely exhausted because this case has been keeping you up.  This has resulted in numerous cups of coffee that you have been guzzling almost constantly and when you go to take another sip of your current cup of coffee, you realise you finished it about five minutes ago the last time you reached for it.

You stand up and make your way out of the room in search of more caffeine, but you don’t hear the footsteps trailing behind you because your senses are a bit dulled from how tired you are.  All you can focus on now is finding that coffee and once you pour yourself a cup, you feel a warm presence next to you.  You turn to look at him, you know it’s Hotch because you always get a specific feeling when he’s near you.  It’s something you’ve never been able to explain even to yourself, but when you tried to explain it to Penny during one of your little gossip sessions over a couple of drinks, she seemed to completely understand what you were trying to tell her.

“Are you okay?” He asks you quietly, he knows you aren’t so he’s not sure why he even asked.  It’s probably just what naturally comes out when he sees you struggling.  It’s not the first time he has asked you this knowing full well that you aren’t okay.  

You’re too exhausted to try brushing him and his concern off and putting up a front to act like everything is fine, so instead of doing that, you just shake your head in response and set the cup of coffee down as Hotch brings his hand up to rub soothing circles on your back.  The bags under your eyes match the ones that never seem to leave Aaron’s face and it breaks his heart a little bit.

“When was the last time you slept?” The concern on Aaron’s features is clear to you even in your sleepy state.  You really try to think of the answer.  You want it to be accurate but you aren’t really sure at this point.  With everything that has been going on with the case and how terribly it has been going, sleep was the last thing on your mind recently.  “I don’t know.  Yesterday?  Maybe the day before?  I’m not sure.” You rub at your eyes a little, trying to rub the sleep out of them.  You’ve been trying to do that all day but of course it hasn’t helped one bit.

“Come on.  Let’s get you back to the hotel.  You need to sleep.  You haven’t taken a break since we started this case and that’s not okay.  You’re draining yourself and I won’t let you do that.” Aaron’s voice is soft but you know that there is no room to argue with him so you just nod and let him guide you out of the precinct in your half asleep state.  

He helps you to one of the black SUVs and after you’re safely inside, he tells you to wait there for a few minutes.  He knew you couldn’t have kept yourself awake long enough to have him drag you around the precinct so he can inform your colleagues of everything.  Everything meaning that he tells all of them to call it quits for the night and to also get as much rest as they can before morning comes.  

The next thing you know, Aaron is gently shaking you awake and saying your name.  Apparently you had fallen asleep in the car before he came back and now you’re outside the hotel.  You are only half awake but it’s enough that you can both get up to your room and once he has you inside, he helps you lay down on the bed before also helping you undress.  He folds your clothes nicely and helps you into your pyjamas.  

He moves to step away from the bed after he gets you all tucked in but even though you can hardly keep your eyes open, you manage to reach out for his arm.  “Don’t go.  Please stay.” He can’t help but smile at your sleepy voice and mumbled words and he sits on the edge of the bed.  “Okay.  I’m here.  I promise I won’t go anywhere.” You smile at his reply and how gentle his voice is.  He tends to keep it soft around you and you love it.  You can feel the way his hand plays with your hair a little and then the thought occurs to you.  You don’t want him sleeping in that suit because you know he won’t be comfortable like that.

“You can borrow some of my pyjamas if you want.  That’s not really the most comfortable thing to wear to bed.” Your words are still mumbled as you lazily gesture to his work attire with your hand.  Another smile creeps onto Aaron’s face as he thinks about your offer.  He would love to wear something of yours.  The idea makes his cheeks heat up just a little and he nods even though you can’t see it now that your eyes are closed.

He stands up from the bed and finds your go-bag and grabs one of your shirts and pyjama bottoms before changing.  Once he’s back by your side, there’s a smile on his face as he climbs into bed next to you and the smile only grows when you immediately wrap your arms around him and pull him closer.  It makes Aaron’s heart flutter and in return he of course wraps you up in his embrace as you rest your head on him.  His cheeks flush even more when you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and his hand finds its way to your hair for him to start messing with the strands there.  

You’re starting to doze off now and he makes sure to keep holding you tightly in his arms as he plays with your hair and gently scratches your scalp which pulls little hums from you.  “Just get some rest, okay?  It’s alright now.” His voice is the softest you have ever heard it and it’s the last thing you hear before you fall into the deepest and most peaceful sleep you’ve had in a long time.  In fact, you think it’s the best sleep you have ever gotten in your entire life and it turns out to be the same for Aaron.  

Aaron ended up falling asleep shortly after you did and he thinks it’s because he was holding you as you clung to him.  You being so close and the way both of your scents completely relaxed the other was enough to shut both of you off for the entire night.  And if Aaron happened to place a few soft little kisses on your forehead right before he fell asleep, well then that only added to the safeness he made you feel even if you didn’t know it because you were already off in dreamland.

[66sharkteeth]

more info about nine lives bc i'm stalling on work and wanna talk about him instead <3 most of this is about the version of him intended for the comic I want to do after City of Blank.

-his real name is Nico

-his mother was a succubus, meaning he is half incubus. because of this, his incubus powers are limited and only work over digital media. IRL, everyone sees him as a gross, weird little gremlin, but online or in streams, he can seduce (nearly) anyone.

-he goes by nine lives bc he is very sickly and always in and out of the hospital. when he was a kid, he was in so often the nurses started (lovingly) joking he had nine lives and it stuck. even his dad calls him that.

-he is deaf, but speaks english fluently. he lost his hearing around the age of 13 to bacterial meningitis. he's blind in his right eye because of this too, which is why he's often seen with his goggle mask. He wants to keep his left eye safe, because it's his last means of staying connected to the world.

-he does have a hearing aid but hates using it. he also never learned ASL and instead picked up quickly on lip reading. he doesn't let many people know he's deaf, so a lot of people think he's ignoring them. (he DOES learn ASL later, but that's kind of a big part of the story)

-he is incredibly apathetic and lazy. he is very much the kind to joke to cope, but he's ultimately accepted he will die young and has no aspirations because of it (one of the reasons he never bothered to learn ASL). all the cast in this story has an assigned "7 deadly sins" and despite being literally half incubus, he actually represents sloth.

-he can and does sleep anywhere. energy drinks and coffee pump through his blood but he's still forever sleepy.

-actually incredibly nice. he can be a bit of a troll and likes to tease and mess with people, but ultimately would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. keeps all his problems to himself because he doesn't want to make other people worry.

-the opposite of finze in every way.

-terminally online. furry. reddit user (derogatory)

there's a lot more but that seems like some good basic info get to know him. i know vast majority of you are here for CoB but pls allow me to be self-indulgent with other projects for a couple days after a really frustrating weekend regarding CoB haha. maybe i'll do finze next if anyone is curious about this kind of info on him in the next comic?

[lu-lus-dicks]

You all need sleep and I may not be the best sleeper but here's some tips. these especially go out to @xxx-angie @nunalastor and @the-aprilfools-bitch . I will be in your closets making sure you all get good sleep >:(

rest your eyes from tv and phone. Just blue light in general. instead you could listen to music or podcasts. those are much better.

try sleeping between 2-4 PM at the latest (which means either that or EARLIER). your body produces the most melatonin (the thing you need to sleep) at those times. It will be much harder to fall asleep later than that

Take a warm bath or shower. If I didn't have a bad relationship with liquids, I would be doing this all day. the warmness helps drop your body temperature and generally lower temperatures signal to the body that it's nighttime and consequently bedtime.

no coffee if you drink some, unless you got ADHD (angie). I've heard caffeine works backwards for people with ADHD

If you grew up in a home with the TV on constantly or just generally had some noise around you in your childhood whenever you went to bed, TURN ON SOME NOISE. It is what happens with me and I can't sleep without some noise.

It would be nice if your bed was only used for sleeping, but I know that's not happening lmao

midgnight snacks disturb your sleep. try to avoid those, since your body starts metabolism during nights. it doesn't need more food to process. but if you must grab a snack, it's best to choose something that's easily digestible and maybe even increases the production of melatonin. some of these are milk (obviously), bananas, nuts, eggs, tea, vegetables and such.

Don't rely too much on meds, otherwise your body will get used to it and will depend on it for you to go to sleep. Instead you could try pavlov effecting yourself with something similar that can always be available. For example, before going to sleep, perform a certain action (I used this method in school and my version was patting myself on the head or touching my cheek with the hand opposite to it). once you've done this enough times before sleep, your brain will associate that action with sleep and you'll get a little sleepy if you do it again. This takes a long time though, A month maybe I have stopped doing this, but if nothing else works this can be an option. Though this isn't perfect lulu side rant: tried to condition myself with a ring once. was really bad with doing homework on time, so everytime I was doing homework I would switch a ring I wore to my forefinger. And this was only used for that situation. I never moved my ring to my forefinger for any reason at all. Thought this would work, but the only conditional response I got was that everytime I moved that ring to my forefinger I started thinking about homework and not really doing it.

If that doesn't work, try changing your enviorment. It doesn't have to be drastic. for example: sleep backwards. lay your head where your feet usually are and your head where your feet usually are. or maybe try sleeping on the floor. I am paranoid about sleeping in other peoples houses but this is the reason I tend to fall asleep anyway

If your lack of sleep is caused by anxiety (like intrusive thoughts or thinking about the future), try listening to a mindless podcast or a youtube video. It will help distract from your thoughts and give you something to focus your mind on, plus most content these days tend to try and turn your mind off to get that sweet sweet watchtime.

If all else fails, you can try to tire your brain out I guess. that's my method for extemely bad sleepless nights. I start reading because that's the most tiring activity I can do in bed and usually I fall asleep in the middle of it.

[kazumist]

a/n: based on you are in love by taylor swift. cw: ooc suna. wc: 679. first time writing in this style so idk what to feel about this one :')

dear (y/n),

by the time you read this letter, it’s probably after dinner time, and you have nothing else to do. i know you’re going to see my face again tomorrow, but please don’t mention this letter at school. especially around the twins.

i’d like to tell a simple story. it’s nothing really special. but there were three moments where i said “i love you” in my own way before we started dating (though you probably didn’t notice it, didn’t you?).

first was during prom night. it was a bit dark in the venue, but i could spot you sulking alone at a table almost immediately. i was a bit late last night, since you know. i wasn’t really planning on attending since fancy events like these require you to dress up in a suffocating suit. but when i got a text from atsumu saying that your date dumped you, i asked my mom if she could help me get ready real quick.

when i finally got there, we ended up ditching prom and instead watching whatever movie was still showing at the cinema, even though we were in formal wear. i remember us watching a tragic romance film, and you were trying your best not to cry because you didn’t want to ruin your look. congrats, by the way. you actually didn’t end up crying.

to put it simply, yes. i did wear a suffocating suit because i didn’t want you to end prom night alone with bad memories.

the first was a nerve wracking experience, but i wouldn’t have it any other way.

the second time was the time you slept over. i randomly woke up in the middle of the night, and you thought it was because of a nightmare since i had this “strange look” on my face (your words, not mine). you asked me if i was okay, but i didn’t reply immediately, which i know made you worry more.

when i told you that “you’re my best friend,” you playfully smacked my head that time for being so random and for making you worry over nothing.

maybe it was because of the time that night, or maybe it’s because you didn’t think of it that much the next morning or so, but i was supposed to say “i love you” that night. yet i didn’t since it would be too sudden—and i wanted to confess in a proper way. not in a way where you and i are both sleepy as hell (that would be super memorable, though).

i didn’t want to admit that i love you at first. but even in our shared silence and on our way home, i could sense it. i could feel that something was shifting with the way i saw you. that i started to see you more as a best friend.

the third time was actually when i randomly invited you to drive around with me, even though it was around midnight by that time. i remember it being a pain to climb up the tree that was near your bedroom window, and i also remember it being a greater pain to find tiny rocks that i could throw at your window.

to be honest with you, getting coffee wasn’t really the reason i asked you out that night. it’s really just an excuse—even though i see you every day, i still miss you. i wasn’t after the coffee or the place where we parked to drink; i was after your company. the feeling of you next to me.

i hope that the next time we get some coffee, you'll talk to me about anything and everything again. that you’ll tell me what show or movie you've watched recently. that you’ll tell me if you've discovered something new recently, even if it seems unimportant.

and if you’re left with nothing to say, you can share your silence with me.

so please get some coffee with me again soon.

yours truly, rintarou.

(p.s. i know this is a bit cheesy; let’s not talk about it.)

[writingquestionsanswered]

i’m not sure if this is something you can help with but i wondered if you had any advice for me,

basically whenever i try to write recently, i get somewhere between 50 to 1000 words in (which really isnt much by my standards) before i start to get extremely tired? i’m not sure why, and i am struggling to write because i just get exhausted instantly

Becoming Exhausted When Writing

It's really not uncommon for writers to experience physical exhaustion when writing--sometimes after only a short period of time. Here are some of the reasons this happens and some tips for how to deal with it. :)

1 - Mental Exhaustion = Physical Exhaustion - The brain is an organ, not a muscle, but it behaves a lot like a muscle in that it gets stronger with "exercise" and can become fatigued with overuse. Writing is kind of like doing a cardio session for your brain. The creative load requires your brain to work really hard and expend a lot of energy, so the bigger that creative load, the faster you're going to feel tired. If you think of unwritten stories as untamed jungles, some writers can be plunked into the middle of the thick vegetation, without a map or resources, and machete a straight path back to civilization. Many of us can't do that, though. We machete circles through the jungle, lost and bewildered, hungry and dehydrated, exhausted and mosquito-bitten--and that's exhausting. So, if you find yourself becoming quickly exhausted when you sit down to write, it's worth considering how much of a creative load you're putting on your brain. If it's not an issue of what to write and where the story is going, something else is going on. For example, if you've had a taxing brain day before you even sit down to write, your remaining energy will vanish fast. But, if you find yourself wandering in circles through your story, you may just need to do some better planning. Having a "map" through your story and heading into the story jungle with resources ready can make a big difference.

2 - Actual Physical Exhaustion - Sometimes the problem isn't with our brains but with our bodies. Lack of sleep, health issues, busy days, mild dehydration, and life stress are all things that can contribute to physical exhaustion that makes us feel sleepy when we write. Some solutions: make sure you get enough sleep or try taking a power nap before you write. Exercise or taking a walk before you write can give you an energy boost, too. Drink some water, coffee, or an energizing smoothie before you write. If you're under life stress, try meditating or taking a refreshing shower before you write.

3 - Creative Stress - Millions of years of evolution have led our brains to be wired to avoid things that are stressful because they might be dangerous. Originally, this was to help us stay physically safe. If you knew there might be lions down a particular path, the thought of going down that path would be stressful, so your brain would say, "Nope, don't go that way." It works the same way with writing. If writing feels stressful to you--maybe because you're not sure what to write or are giving yourself a hard time about not making word counts or deadlines--your brain perceives writing as a threat and says, "Nope, don't go that way." This causes your "fight or flight" response to kick in when you start writing. That might manifest as your inner critic, distracting yourself, or experiencing writer's block. Pushing forward anyway can create even more stress, and that's when you start to feel exhausted. The best way to deal with this is to make writing as stress-free as you possibly can so your brain doesn't perceive it as a threat. Make sure you know where your story is going and what you need to write during each writing session, whether that means just thinking about it ahead of time or planning it out. Don't give yourself a hard time for not meeting word counts or deadlines, and don't even strive toward those (unless you have to) if they cause you undue stress. Instead, try setting small, attainable goals and reward yourself for reaching them. For example, instead of trying trying to hit a particular word count, try to write for ten minutes each day. If that's not a problem, go for twenty and so on. Set your goal just a few minutes above what you know you can hit. Then, raise it accordingly. Also, try setting up a writing routine and making sure you have a comfortable, inviting place to write if possible. Taking a walk, shower, or meditating before you write can help here, too.

I hope that helps! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - seventy-six | going for a walk

The next day, you were a little tired as you worked with Hongjoong on a minute task having to do with the Ans:wer comeback. There was a little bit of processing to be done, some vocals that needed to be layered, and he wanted to take another look at the instrumental to make sure it was where it needed to be. You kept yawning, owing to your lack of sleep the night before.

You had gone on like that for hours when Hongjoong finally turned to you.

“You okay?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Couldn’t fall asleep last night. I don’t know why.”

You knew why, but he didn’t need to.

He nodded. 

The two of you went back to working, and two more yawns later, he turned to you.

“Do you want to take a break?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You keep yawning, you’re not fine.”

“Who’s yawning?” Maddox asked as he opened the door.

“T/n’s tired and keeps putting carbon dioxide all over the room.”

“Wouldn’t I be doing that if I were just exhaling normally anyway?” You laughed.

Hongjoong smiled at you and returned to looking at the screen.

“Why don’t you go get some coffee?” Maddox asked.

You yawned and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I could. Does the cafeteria have coffee all day?”

“They do.”

You nodded. “Alright. I’ll go get some.”

“Take your time,” Hongjoong said. “Walk around a bit, it’ll help get your blood moving so you stop falling asleep.”

“Hey, I didn’t fall asleep.”

“Not yet.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you knew he was right. If you were really yawning that much, your eyes were probably going to start closing soon if you didn’t do something about it. You nodded at him as you grabbed your wallet and left for the cafeteria. You thought about taking the stairs but - as ironic as it was - you were too tired for the stairs. Sure, they would definitely help get your blood circulating, but the cafeteria was so far, and you didn’t want to walk there all the way there and back.

You trudged over to the elevator bank and hit the call button and waited, watching the numbers with sleepy interest, until the bell pinged and you stood in front of the doors and waited for them to open.

“Oh!” You said with surprise.

“Oh,” Yunho said. “Are you leaving?”

“I was. Were you going to the studio?”

The doors threatened to close and he hit the button and opened them again.

“I was coming up to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Where were you going?”

“To the cafeteria to get some coffee.”

He smiled. “Hop in.”

You walked in and he hit the button to close the doors. You pressed the button for the floor the cafeteria was on.

“What were you coming to see me for?” You asked.

He shrugged. “No reason. Hang out, I guess.”

You raised a brow at him and looked towards the changing numbers on the display. Shouldn’t he be hanging out with Satbyeol, if he was going to hang out with anyone? Did you misunderstand? No, you heard her ask him out…

This was confusing and you were much too tired to deal with it.

“Would you want to, um…”

You turned back.

“My roommate works at a café that’s pretty close to here. Would you want to go there instead?”

“Is the cafeteria coffee bad or something?”

“I don’t know, I always go to the cafe.”

You chuckled. “Isn’t that just bias?”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

You exhaled a laugh. “What’s the name?”

“AtoZ cafe.”

You remembered seeing the name on the cup sleeves of the coffee Maddox always brought to the studio as his lateness apology. To think that he’d suggest the cafeteria when his heart was clearly somewhere else. Traitor.

“I think Mingi said he and Dei go there a lot too.”

“Popular place.”

“It should be, the drinks are good. And the pastries are really good.”

“It’s not expensive, is it?”

He chuckled. “Are you on a budget?”

“Not anymore. But I don’t think food should cost what some cafés want for it.”

He smiled. “If you think they’re too expensive, I’ll treat you.”

You scoffed softly. “Why would you treat me?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t I used to?”

You nodded slowly.

The elevator door opened into the lobby and he gestured for you to exit first. You shook your head at his overly gentleman-like behavior and waited for a moment for him to join you in the lobby. As the two of you crossed the lobby, Mina smiled and waved. You smiled and waved back.

You heard Yunho chuckle next to you and turned to him.

“What?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s just… nice seeing you be so social.”

You stared at him for a moment. “Why, because I was a horribly sullen child when we were growing up?”

He nodded. “Well, not when I was around.”

“Ha. Ego.”

He smiled widely. “But in school and stuff, yeah.”

“Yeah…” You got the exterior door for him.

He stopped and looked at you.

You gestured for him to walk through.

He relinquished and did.

You laughed at him. “Am I not allowed to open a door for you?”

“I was the one who invited you to the café, I was trying to be a gentleman.”

“Don’t worry, when someone comes up and challenges my honor as a lady, you can duel to the death on my behalf.”

He laughed.

“You’re so weird Jeong Yunho.”

He shrugged. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

You nodded. You supposed he was.

“Do you want my jacket, since you didn’t come out with one?” He started taking his off to give to you.

“What, am I suddenly a Victorian woman, about to die because someone coughed too hard in another room?” You clutched yourself dramatically. “Or because my lover sent me a letter breaking off our engagement? Oh, what a horrible fate, to be an unmarried woman in this day and age!”

He laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“Keep it, you freak. I’m fine.”

He laughed again and resituated it.

“Hold on.” 

You stopped and ran your fingers under the collar and up to the back of his neck, flipping his collar around. He stood still as you did so, eyes moving over your face as you fixed it before they came to rest on your eyes.

You smoothed the collar down.”You’re okay now.”

“Tha-- thank you.”

You put your hands in your pockets and continued walking in the direction you were headed. “Can’t have my gallant gentleman walking around with a flipped collar. What will the other nobles think? We might be shunned from society.”

He laughed.

“So wait: I have a question for you.”

He flinched. “What?”

“I would have thought that you and Mingi would be roommates. How come you live with someone else?”

“Oh!” He relaxed. “Oh, um… Mingi and I did live together in a tiny apartment at first. It was so small our beds were right next to each other and everything, there was like, no space.”

“Too cramped?”

“It wasn’t at first. Then Mingi got a girlfriend and if she was over I’d have to leave and find somewhere to hang out so they could have their space, and they were really serious for a while, so I ended up looking for someone to move in with.”

“That’s how you found your roommate?”

He nodded. “He put an ad out that he was looking for someone. The rent was really cheap and I was super suspicious of it, but I figured I’d check it out anyway. I figured, he can’t be a serial killer in an apartment, where is he going to put my body? There’s no basement.”

You laughed loudly. “Your body is too big to be stored?”

“Exactly! I’m too tall to be kept in a normal fridge. He’d need one of those big horizontal ones you see in movies and there’s not enough room for those in most apartments.”

You kept laughing. “Why would you even think of that?”

“I don’t know. I just really wanted to move out.”

“Oh my god.”

“So I go there, and it’s a nice but modest apartment; two bedrooms, kitchen, living room, balcony. And he tells me he wanted to rent the other room because he was worried his cat was becoming too isolated since it was just the two of them.”

“Wow, really?”

“Mhm. And then one day, I see the rent statement from the building and I find out that he had actually been paying most of the rent and I was only paying like a quarter or a fifth.” 

“Wow… he really didn’t want his cat to be lonely, huh?”

He chuckled. “So I went to him and asked if I could pay half, because it wasn’t fair to him if he paid most of it, and would you like to know what he told me?”

“What?”

“He said: I know that being an extra doesn’t pay well, so you can pay me when you break through.”

You nodded.

“My pride was bruised a little, but honestly, it sort of made me want to work harder, because I couldn’t just freeload in this guy’s apartment just because he was being nice. What would that make me?”

“Are you two close at all?”

“Oh yeah, we’re really good friends now.”

You nodded. “And the cat?”

“You should come over at some point and meet her.”

You chuckled.

“Here, we are.” Yunho gestured at the café as the two of you walked up to it.

It looked like a cute place.

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[sl33py-g4m3r]

More personal I’m sorry~~~~

New coffee shop in town, anxiety go brrr…

Also tiredness go brrrrrr cause am sleepy at this point.

Go to coffee shop with mom and sibling

Tired starting to get to me and I’m kinda upset

Big steps and I don’t have my cane with me

New place anxiety and tiredness don’t mix

Use phone magnification to look at menu

Mom asks if I can read menu

Can’t tell where the prices are, don’t respond immediately

Sibling asks if I need help, more anxiety and tiredness

‘Throw me into the void’

So many options and I don’t know what to get

Can’t find prices on menu

Mom starts to read off menu

Embarrassment mounting

Imo world moves too fast

Didn’t want help

Want to be swallowed by the void

End up getting a coconut chai hot tea thing

Go outside, hang around near side of building instead of sit at table

Guess I look upset so we head to the car

Sitting outside at the table would’ve been nice actually

Get home with mom, sibling, and our drinks

Feel bad like I ruined the trip cause anxiety and tired

Feel bad cause didn’t take cane with me to see drop offs or the big stairs, or as an indication of my vision problem

Some places in the world not for visually impaired people

Feel angry and sad that I need help and my vision is bad since birth incident

Shouldn’t be as it’s normal

They say don’t stew on it and that we all need help sometimes

Just forget and try again later and hope it doesn’t happen again

Was I just upset that I didn’t want help?

Chill out a bit and try the chai

Chai is good, drink sibling got is good too

Hindsight aesthetic of the building is nice, it’s local, and within walking distance if we want

Place is nice and I be upset for no reason

Feel bad also for accidentally ‘(censored) damn’ in shop

Don’t normally swear and I used god in vain

Would go to coffee shop again

Guess I need to work on both my self esteem and my confidence in therapy… and I don’t see my therapist for a month cause she’s going on vacation.

The chai was good and coconut ~~ wonder if it was dairy free cause coconut or it actually had dairy. Was too stirred up w tired, shame, and anxiety to bother asking.

Why do I write some of these as 4chan green text stories?? I don’t even go to that site…

Idk what to make of what just happened. Guess work on my self esteem somehow and take my cane with me everywhere just in case of trips like that.

Glad I didn’t ruin the trip for them~~~ was nice shop. Coffee and stuff was a tad expensive at $17 for 2 small drinks and an ice cream but it’s local and walkable so that’s cool.

No oblivion plz~~

[nogenderbee]

Hey bees! I would like to join project sekai event hehe(anyway Happy birthday, sorry I'm late) and thank you!

What nickname would you call your lover?

• Princess/Prince or doll probably, bcs I think it's cute.

What are your hobbies?

• Playing Guitar and Listening to music(any kind of music, I really love music)

What's your perfect date idea?

• Late night riding? Usually I always do night riding alone, and it's really comforting and I want them felt the same. And after the night riding, Im gonna take them to some high place, watching the night city and the stars

What's something you hate in others? (like a personality trait or behavior for example):

• when they work too much.

What are yours main 3-5 (or more if you want!) personality traits?

• I'm clingy af, I love horror things(sometimes I prank my friend and scared them☠️), you can tell I always sleepy during the day and drink much coffee(I love coffee) to make me open my eyes and not sleeping at the middle of the class.

Also I love taking care of someone, I love the feeling they need me, and I'm not gonna abandoned. (Maybe it's because my issue where I scared to be alone, then I always help someone, so they won't abandoned me and I'm not gonna be alone.)

What's activity/hobby do you like?

• again late night riding, other than that I like go to cafe to drink coffee.

What's activity/hobby you don't like?

• Studying lol

Hiii! Thanks and don't worry about it! So let's see who you got, shall we~?

I pair you with...

🥁🥁🥁

Saki Tenma!

⊱ first, I think "doll" is so cute with her!

⊱ but now actual reasons... you play guitar and she plays keyboard so it's really just perfect for both of you to have like a little concert! And of course, both of you love listening to music so you can be sure she'd always want to exchange musics with you

⊱ as for your date ideas, she absolutely loves it! She loves just riding under starry sky with you, especially if your destination is some high place with pretty views~

⊱ and now for traits... Saki absolutely loves your clinginess! She's a little clingy herself so you two really are just sometimes impossible to part. She also doesn't mind that you're often sleepy and will let you nap whenever you need it. She'll also try to watch over how much coffee you drink so you won't damage your health

⊱ and finally, you kinda just both like cafes! Maybe she's not the biggest coffee type but she won't mind ordering hot chocolate instead! Especially if the cafe has some cute design or good sweets!

You and Saki were now relaxing in high place you found. It had nice views and since it was night, and sky was clear, you also managed to adore the starts this night.

"You know... I'm not that good with constellations... But this one kinda looks like Leo!"

It wasn't the only constellation she pointed out but looking at how many guesses she already made, there was absolutely no way they all could've been correct. But hey, the two of you still had fun even if she's not the one to know all the constellations!

"I know I can just do a photo and ask Hona later! Speaking of photos... wanna take one of us together to keep this memory forever~?"

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

[rathockey]

2, 9, 24, 48 <3

mwah thank you <3

2 - lighter or matches?

i do not smoke or set fires pretty much ever so i don't have a strong opinion on this, but i will say lighter bc you can get funky cool ones. i would like a zippo lighter but have no real reason to get one. one day i'll splurge on it though :)

9 - which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

i prefer NO coffee! i never found a way to drink it that i liked and the caffeine does nothing for me except make me sleepy (thanks adhd!!) so instead i just get hot chocolate!

24 - if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

i think we'd be having incredibly intellectual discussions* about summer sons and 911 and being hot gay trans dudes *screaming and frothing at the mouth

48 - when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

I probably had a taste of my dad's beer at some point before this, but the first like, intentional alcoholic beverage I tried was a beer in germany in 2014 when I was 16 and visiting my grandparents. It was during the world cup and it was a perfectly fine beer, nothing too special but still good!

send me a number!

[glittergutts]

Yall, I woke up early like I do (around 4) but I'm like awake and alive and I don't feel overwhelmed by my thoughts right now!

I brought Loki out his crate to get in my bed and snuggle. He was really sleepy, I probably shouldn't have bothered him but I wanted him to be cozy. Ever since he chewed his bed into pieces I've been worried about him sleeping on the hard crate mat. He can't have blankets or anything either because he will tear it open and eat the fluff from comforters, pillows, anything his sore puppy teeth can shred in the crate. He's teething so bad his little mouth is bloody at times.

Last night I looked at what I had to pack to go to treatment. It looks like I'm going to have to buy some things but I also found some very nice sample size things to bring that will make me feel good. I'm hoping when I'm there and have the opportunity to prioritize myself, I'll be able to think of a nice routine especially for the self care things I tend to slack on.

The idea of packing everything I need for 2 weeks essentially in the same building the whole time is overwhelming. I don't want to bring a lot because they go through your things with you when you get checked in. It takes a while and it feels invasive so I just want it over quickly and ideally they won't be weird about any of my skincare things. I've been twice and once I had everything I brought besides my shaver they kept at a desk and the second time the lady checking my bags took totally random things like lotions from me. So I'm going to ask before I go so if they do try to keep something I was told I'm allowed I can advocate for myself. It's weird going to a place like that and my things make me feel a little more at home or normal or something..

I know I'm not allowed to have essential oils at treatment. I think it may be a poison risk and or glass bottles. I find aromatherapy to be a good tool for my general anxiety if I'm also doing breathing exercises or something so I've been trying to figure out what I could bring. Then I remembered the little essential oil blend balm sticks and now I'm just hoping I'll be able to afford something extra like that because it would bring me a little bit of peace.

I'm still trying to remember how I dragged all my stuff through the door alone? I don't remember but for some reason I feel like it was stressful so I'm trying to shove all my stuff in like 2 bags so one on each arm I can still hopefully move.

Ew I bet this is what air travel feels like.

Except I'm not going on vacation to do something fun. I have to bring books and things to do in between group therapy and I'm kinda lost as to what I could do with my time besides read and color.

Ooh, but I do get to pick out some special fidget things and a plushie I can bring and that always make me feel 900% safer and content. I just wish I could bring my puppy boy :(

I'm so worried about him growing and me missing something important. I'm really upset about it but I'm going to barrow Ellie's Polaroid camera to take some pictures of him and the kids, and Chris.

I'm finally spinning my wheels the right direction instead of talking myself out of help again and again. It's overwhelming so I needed to brain dump here.

Time to drink coffee and order groceries! 😌 happy Saturday friends.

[wishfuldivine]

Highly debating in if I should drink some coffee this morning. I am not that much of a coffee person myself but have been craving it.

The reason I don't like it is simple; it makes me sleepy. Instead of waking me up, I end up falling asleep.

Cravings are cravings. Should I? hmm...

[koffeetips]

Unlocking the Hidden Secrets: Why Does Coffee Make Me Sleepy?

Why Does Coffee Make Me Sleepy? Coffee is one of the most popular beverages in the world, and many people drink it to stay alert and energized. However, some people may experience the opposite effect and feel sleepy after drinking coffee. Why Does Coffee Make Me Sleepy? Lots of people ask “Why does coffee make me sleepy”? There are several possible reasons why coffee can make you sleepy, and they are related to how caffeine affects your brain, body, and hydration. Table of Contents Coffee Blocks Adenosine Adenosine is a naturally present hormone that makes you sleepy. This hormone controls your sleep-wake cycle. It increases during the awake hours and decreases while you sleep.When you consume coffee, your body absorbs caffeine, and it sticks to your adenosine receptors.This prevents adenosine from binding to them and makes you feel tired. However, this effect is only temporary. As caffeine wears off, the adenosine that was blocked will flood your receptors, making you feel even more sleepy than before. Coffee Causes Dehydration The primary reason why coffee makes you sleepy sometimes is likely because it’s making you dehydrated. Coffee is a diuretic. In other words, it makes you need to urinate.Drinking it to stay awake can quickly lead to a vicious dehydrating cycle that actually makes you more tired.Dehydration can cause headaches, fatigue, drowsiness, and reduced cognitive performance. To avoid this, make sure you drink enough water along with your coffee, especially if you drink more than one cup a day. Coffee Affects Your Blood Sugar Another reason why coffee can make you go to sleep is that it can affect your blood sugar levels. Caffeine can stimulate the release of insulin, which lowers your blood sugar.This can cause a sudden drop in energy and mood, making you feel sleepy and irritable.Moreover, if you add sugar or cream to your coffee, you may experience a sugar crash after the initial boost. This can also make you feel tired and crave more sweets.To prevent this, try drinking black coffee or adding low-calorie sweeteners instead. Coffee Interferes With Your Sleep Quality Coffee can also make you go to sleep because it interferes with your sleep quality at night. Caffeine has a half-life of about 5 hours, which means that it takes that long for half of it to leave your system.If you drink coffee in the afternoon or evening, it may still be in your bloodstream when you go to bed. This can prevent you from falling asleep quickly and reaching deep sleep stages.As a result, you may wake up feeling groggy and unrefreshed the next day. To avoid this, limit your coffee intake to the morning or early afternoon, and avoid drinking more than 400 mg of caffeine per day, about 4 cups of coffee, assuming an 8-ounce cup. Coffee Affects You Differently Finally, coffee can make you go to sleep because it affects you differently than others. Some people are more sensitive to caffeine than others, depending on their genetics, metabolism, age, weight, and other factors.Some people may feel energized and alert after drinking coffee, while others may feel jittery and anxious.Some people may metabolize caffeine faster than others, while others may retain it longer in their system. Therefore, the effects of coffee on your sleepiness may vary depending on your characteristics. Email Twitter Pinterest Facebook LinkedIn Reddit Keep In Touch If You Like My Articles. As much as I like to share my knowledge and skill with you, I love to hear from you. If you have any suggestions or comments, please click here. Also don't forget to subscribe to our quarterly newsletters if you like my blogs and like to keep in touch.Of course, read more blog posts I post now and then, such as  "Coffee and Bowel Movements: Unveiling the Connection, 3 Most Interesting Reasons!". Read the full article

[your-sweet-cookies]

Coffee, tea, or something else entirely?

☁️Mun questions!☁️

Answer from Mun: I'll go with tea, although I am more the type that will usually stick to drinking water. Just like Kukki, I really dislike coffee. It's not that I hate the taste that much, but for some odd reason coffee has the total opposite effect on me than it actually should: instead of waking me up and energizing me, it makes me feel sleepy and shitty as fudge. So yeah, if I had to choose between coffee and tea, I'll go with tea. And as flavors, I like lemon tea and mint tea.

[girlfrandletters]

How To Accurately and Not Concisely Explain the Turmoil of Thoughts In My Head

It's 2:21am on July 20, 2022, and I cannot sleep. Maybe it's the 24oz of coffee I drank at 6pm, or the maelstrom of thoughts blowing around in my mind, or the anxiety that's hit me from our imminent move or... no. It's definitely the coffee. Remind me to never drink coffee after about 2pm. I'm sure you've said it before, but here is my note to you to remind you to remind me again. I know I shouldn't drink it because it sets my mind down the path of cycling thoughts that shouldn't be thought or ones that are better left mentioned once, set aside (after being fully examined, turned over, and with careful discussion) and ignored for the Once-Important-Topic-But-No-Longer-Consequential subject it is. But here I am anyway.

Tonight's spiraling thoughts (and let me take this moment to mention that I say "spiraling thoughts" without the usual negative connotation we have both placed on it previously. Spiraling thoughts tonight consist merely of things I want to say to you, or about you, about us and our life together that have me lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, unable to close my eyes for more than a few seconds before flying open again. But none of these are bad, negative, upsetting, or saddening. In fact, they're all... exceptionally positive. Overwhelmingly exciting and happy thoughts) stem from a combination of Memory Lane Waltzing, a fleeting moment of worry and insecurity about how I came off tonight, and the thrill of emotion that I got when I happened to catch your sleepy eye as you fell asleep listening to me prattling off.

(Speaking of prattling...)

We are in the final few days of the big move. The transition from two homes to one communal living space. The mingling of one living breathing human, their current lifestyle, their history, their relationships and personality, their job, their routine, their every. waking. minute. with another creature, with their own parts of life. This is a huge step for anyone, of course, but two individuals in their mid-20s, after a slow development of a relationship and partnership unlike any either has experienced before... This is major. Or maybe it's just me. You've moved in with other partners before so maybe you don't have the same hesitations now, but you understand mine at least. Or maybe you do have the same concerns, since your previous moves haven't been ideal either. Regardless, this is a big step for us in the direction of our future. But I'm not scared, not anymore. I was, for a while, and the closer it gets to the day we actually spend in our new home together, the more panicked I got. But after tonight, after literally just sitting here in the bubble of peace and harmony we had, I have no reservations, no secret terrors, or fears not yet placated.

Today I was supposed to do the final packing of my apartment. Instead I had an IUD placed and was in severe cramping pain and could do no more than lie on the couch like a pile of goo. And when you came home, I did nothing other than hold a trash bag for you while you went through your closets. But in one of those boxes, you pulled out some cards written to you by your ex. I, being one of nosy inclinations, asked to read them. I asked for a couple reasons, which I want to say I explained to you, but I'm more inclined to say I told you, and didn't fully let you grasp what I mean.

I asked to read those letters because I have this weird desire to see what it was like for you before. I've heard you say it, I've listened to your stories, but somehow hearing it and seeing it are completely different. Not saying I didn't believe you, but reading those cards hit me differently. Somehow makes it more tangible in my brain, something I can touch and process. I wasn't lying when I say it was also a way for me to help see the perspective that you had, why you stayed, and have more empathy for the situation. It's easy for me, as a third party hearing everything, to immediately hate her and everyone involved, to call her a selfish, manipulative, horrible bitch and think of the most violent ways to punish her for what she did to you. But seeing those words, written in her own hand, helped me see that she was sick in a way that, while you could never have "fixed" her, you tried for her sake and I understand it. And having those on hand, for you to look back at and remind yourself of where you were, how far you've come, I get it. Not in a way of "I completely understand wanting to have these around forever" type of way, but in a "I understand that you process things differently and this helps you come to terms with what happened and what is happening now." Did I have a slight hiccup watching you put those cards back in a box instead of a trash bag? Sure. But not in a jealous way or out of fear that you'd read them, realize you put so much effort into her and still loved her and would go back. That fear hasn't been around for at least a year. That hiccup was more of the inherent female reaction of "I'm here and I'm better and I won so I want to remove any reminder that there was someone before me."

But I have this tendency to suppress those inherent reactions 99.98% of the time, and that 0.02% when it comes out never turns into anything more than a "I'm being stupid, stfu." That being said, I absolutely also asked to read those cards as a way to somehow prove to myself, solidify to myself that she wasn't better than me. Despite all that I've heard, there was (apparently) this little itch in the back of my brain that thought maybe what you said was an exaggeration. She couldn't be nearly as bad as you said. Not that you were lying about it, but sometimes these things get blown up to be just a little bigger than they were. I know thought I've done it with my previous relationships - yes they were terrible, but were they really as bad as I remember or am I just bitter about what happened? Did I make a mountain out of many molehills? And I guess I was worried that you did the same a little. Back when our feelings were still tentative (but slowly growing), I did have a fear that I wasn't nearly as good as you said I was. I couldn't possibly be this wonderfully supportive, loving, great girlfriend that you made me out to be. I was just average. Surely your last relationship had these aspects too. But reading those letters, seeing how many there were, more or less solidified to me that no, it wasn't like that for you. Everything I've given you has not been given to you before to the extent I've given it - and I don't mean that in a conceited "I'm the best" kind of way. They were a way for me to see that this other woman, this historical, life altering human you loved before was not a goddess and perfection incarnate, despite her flaws. I sit here feeling silly for the way my mind compared myself to her, as if I was pitting myself against her and trying to be better so you wouldn't leave me and go back. I see now that there was no competition. I have my own flaws, but if you're staying with me, it's not because I'm just someone to fill a spot, to replace her. I'm here because of what I offer and provide you, all on my own.

Spending the rest of the night on the couch, you watching Netflix, me going through old photos, was relaxing, peaceful, and utterly comforting. The silence between us, with only the noise from the TV (and my raging commentary) was nothing short of blissful. I didn't feel like we needed to fill the air between us with words, either loving or joking, or sarcastic. We didn't need to have a conversation in order to enjoy each other's company. We didn't need to be totally ensconced in each other's arms, groping and feeling. I scrolled through my facebook photos, you rubbed my toes. We spent the night in pure marital happiness (sans marriage). And when the night was over, when it was time to lie down and sleep, I panicked. You thought it was cute, but I was truly, genuinely worried.

Because we just spent a night not embracing, kissing, talking, or fucking. We spent it together, but not... TOGETHER. But... we did. And it threw me off. I was worried that by not talking, by not reminding you every 5 minutes with a touch, or a look, or a word, you'd forget that I loved you. I thought you might be upset with me, or mad that I ignored you. I didn't mean to ignore you, intentionally or not. I was scared that if this is what we did tonight, maybe it was the sign that things were already starting to go downhill and you were bored and tired of me already. And then secondarily panicking because maybe I was just overreacting and you were utterly fine and this is why I've never had a good lasting relationship because I had these kinds of nights before and worried so much about everything falling apart that I couldn't see that everything was fine - then THIRDARILY panicking because what if I was doing the same exact thing and then we fell apart because I couldn't see that everything was fine and you were sick of it.

So stressed and worried was I that I literally came up with a word to describe the 3 back to back mild panics.

But... you, in your infinite patience and reassuring smiles and crinkley-eyed-laughs, let me know that all of that, that whole previous parasgraph there, was not true and in my head and I was being crazy and not to worry. But you didn't say it like that. You said it with a smile and a tight embrace, a forehead kiss and a nose kiss, and fingers through my hair. You reminded me, as you have multiple times over the last 16 months, that you love me, you love my little inexplicable panics, and nothing was wrong. I must have asked you about 13 times in 4 minutes if you were upset or mad or if I'd done anything wrong and you only held me tighter and reassured me that everything was, in fact, okay.

And now I'm sitting here (3:22am now) with you sprawled out on your half of the couch, facing me, elbow touching me, my foot on your thigh, and I'm laughing at myself. Because you're so at peace with everything I am and everything we are and I'm so worried that I'm doing something wrong. You make me feel sane when I feel like I'm going crazy - and I know I'm crazy sometimes and I say stupid things, but you've never once made me actually FEEL crazy or (outwardly) said I'm being stupid. You've only ever loved me, unconditionally and wholeheartedly. I always say "Oh this is the thing that makes me understand you love me" or "You said this and now I can officially feel comfortable." And whatever it is you say or do that makes me say that I'm sure helps me come to terms with that one particular insecurity, whatever that is.

But this... this is a whole new level of "I get it now."

We are about to spend the rest of our lives together. We have been living together for the last 3 weeks now, sure, but I still have "My Apartment" and you have "Your Apartment." Come Saturday, we will only have "Our Apartment." We are going to sit on this couch every night together, some nights talking, other nights just brushing fingers and staring at the TV. Maybe we will even spend nights in two separate rooms. And those nights will be like tonight - comfortable, safe, Together-But-Not. And I'm ready for it. How can I not be when I look at you now, think of how we sat together today, and be happy. I'm not scared of spending an evening not talking every minute because I know that it's not a bad silence. It doesn't forebode a big discussion or argument, or signify a silent treatment, or general malcontent. It indicates comfort and happiness. And if there ever is something to talk about or hash out, I know that you and I will sit and talk it over together until we sort it all out, and end the night in each other's company again. Regardless of whatever comes out way, we will always end the night content with our relationship, our home, our life together.

I am not afraid to be open with you, whether that's about real topics or made up insecurities. I am not afraid of us and our future. I am not afraid of you, because I love you.

~Girlfrand