#with me over an insanely simple question and then never talk to you again until a year later when I have a second question. hhjb

[icewindandboringhorror]

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[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Summary: You can run all you want, but Toji will always find you.

Story Warning: Stalker Ex-boyfriend Toji!!!, Threats of Violence, Shitty Date (literally), Smut, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Threats of Pregnancy omg, Possessive Behavior, No condoms we get plan b 'round here

Artist: Idk! But if you find out, let me know and I'll update my post

Your lips turn down in a frown, eyes widening as you swipe your mascara over your lashes one last time. You blink as you take in your appearance in your bathroom mirror for the last time, slipping your mascara wand back into the tube and twisting it tightly shut.

You have a date tonight.

The first one you’ve had since moving to Sendai from Tokyo. You met him at your new accounting job. He’s nice, a little boring for your usual taste, but he’s exactly what you needed to date. Someone your age. Someone with their life together, and someone who isn’t fucking crazy. And god did you need the not crazy part.

Your ex was an older man who seemed to have it all together when you first met. Things were easy with you two. He worked a job that required a lot of travel. He supposedly worked for the government, never asking questions because every answer was a stern “It’s confidential”. And that was fine. You didn’t need to know what he did for a living as long as he was good to you, and he was at first.

Two years of dating and everything was going well…save the bouts of jealousy and possessiveness your ex sometimes let slip. When he wasn’t making sure to watch your every move, monitor any man who spoke to you, he was fantastic. Loving. Doting. Funny…All of the things you wanted in a partner. It was just when his jealousy reared its ugly head, it became everyone’s problem.

He never hurt you physically, no. He would never. But that didn’t apply to anyone else within your vicinity.

It was flattering at first, how he’d lose his shit just at the sight of you with another man. But then it became too much. Breaking up with him didn’t work. He’d just show up wherever you were, telling you he loved you, that he can’t do this life without you, to give him another chance and he’d be better. And every new chance always ended the same. With some random man on the floor with a bloody nose after talking to you at the bar, your ex looming over him, jaw tight, nostrils flared with anger and you storming away.

You thought dating an older man was going to be different, that you wouldn’t be dealing with the same childish shit men your age would put you through. But apparently, age didn’t make a difference. At his prehistoric age, your ex proved that wasn’t the case.

He was never going to change.

No matter what you did, he was never going to leave you alone.

You soon realized your ex was more than jealous and possessive. He was downright insane. You remember what it was like every time you broke up, the vicious grin he would wear after ruining one of your nights out, chasing you down until you gave in to him…and then he was ruining you back at your apartment.

And you hated yourself for that. How easy it was for him to break down your walls with little effort. How easy it was for him to get you to forgive him. He didn’t have to do much. He just needed to show up, tell you sweet nothings and you were putty in his hands, opening the door to your life for him…And your legs.

It’s why you moved so far across the country. The further, the better. You’d blocked his number, packed up and didn’t even tell your closest friends where you were going. You needed a complete revamping of your life. Because you loved him too much to resist him if he ever showed up again.

With a sigh, you check your makeup and dress one last time before you head out. You’re going to the movies. It’s a simple date. Doesn’t require you to do too much, but you want to make a good impression. It’s your first date since moving to Sendai and you deserve to have a normal date for once. 

When you arrive at the theater, you’re immediately hit by the smell of butter and the sounds of kernels popping in the machines behind the concession stand. Your date is already waiting inside with popcorn and your tickets. He flashes you a bright smile, tells you you look beautiful tonight and you feel your cheeks warm beneath his gaze. It’s a little weird to be out with someone new, but isn’t that what you wanted?

He’s nice. Give him a chance.

The attendant checks your tickets and points you to your theater. You climb the stairs, glancing down at your ticket to ensure you’re on the correct row, right in the middle of the theater. The perfect view.

Your date sets the popcorn down between the two of you. “I heard this movie is really good.”

“Me too,” you nod, reaching into the tub of popcorn at the same time as your date. You both smile shyly at each other when your fingers touch, grabbing a handful of popcorn just as the theater lights dim and the movie begins.

- - - - - -

The movie blares in the back of the theater, the music building to a crescendo as some action scene reaches its climax. But that’s not what the man at the top of the theater is watching as he shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. No, there’s a much more interesting sight in front of him, right in the center of the theater.

You.

Who gives a fuck about the movie when he has a perfect view of you?

Well, of you and the fucker sitting a little too close, whispering in your ear any chance his gets and slipping his arm around your shoulder.

He wants to march down and kick your little friend in the head, splatter his brain across the floor. But he’s off the clock. A random body to clean up wouldn’t look good for him and it definitely wouldn’t increase his chances of getting back to you. And that’s the goal here. To get to you. So he has to be patient, like he has been all this time.

He could always barge into your new place and make you talk to him. He could always call your phone even though you blocked his number and changed phone providers. That’s lightwork for him, child’s play. And he wants to have some fun before he makes a move.

Emerald eyes watch in the darkness as your date leans into your ear to whisper something, your shoulders shaking slightly as you laugh. It almost makes him break his promise to bide his time, watching that man put his lips so close to your soft skin.

The skin he misses running his large hands over. The skin he misses kissing, running his tongue over. The skin he misses admiring after coating it with his own release. Fuck, he misses you more than anything. He’d damn near lost his mind after realizing you left Tokyo, up and gone in the middle of the night without so much as a word. Not even your friends knew where you’d gone. And he would know if they were lying. 

But now that he has you in front of him, he’s determined to never let you go.

Your date leans over to whisper once a-fucking-gain in your ear and his jaw tightens, teeth clenching so hard it makes his head throb. Your date stands, heading for the stairs, leaving you alone in the theater to watch the movie. There’s too many people around for him to approach you so soon. It’s not the right time, but he has an idea of what he could do until then.

The man in the back stands, casually following your date down the steps and out the theater door. Your date is an idiot, not even aware for a second that someone is behind him and closing in on him quickly. The easiest prey he’s had in awhile. Green eyes watch as he turns into the bathroom and he follows after silently.

Your date closes himself into the further stall, the largest and takes a seat on the toilet.

Even better. Out of sight.

The man doesn’t sense any other presence in the bathroom as he enters the stall next to your dates and stands atop the commode. He peers down boredly as your date sits, toying with his phone. Clearly he was going to be in here for awhile anyway, but now it may seem he won’t be returning.

“Got any good games on there?” The green eyed man asks, smirking when your date practically jumps out of his skin, dropping his phone with a loud crack.

“What the fuck, man?!” He shouts, face red with anger. “Get the fuck outta here, fucking freak!”

“I’ll cut to the chase.”

Your date fixes him with a look of confusion.

“Leave your date.”

Your date looks even more confused. The green eyed man rolls his eyes, sighing with annoyance. He grits his teeth. “Leave. Your. Date. Go home, forget you met her.”

Now your date’s red face has returned, his anger rolling off of his skin. “Fuck off! Get out of here or I’ll call security, you fucking weirdo!”

The man sighs again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He tried to be nice. He really did. With ease, he hops over the wall of the bathroom stall, landing before your date, one foot smashing his phone into pieces. He digs the heel of his foot into the device for good measure, the sound of glass scratching the floor filling the space between them.

And then he’s leaning over, meeting your date at eye level, green eyes glaring into his wide and terrified ones. “Leave. Your. Date. Or you’ll be lucky to leave this bathroom with only your phone crushed in.”

He can see the way your date trembles, the sweat beginning to bead along his forehead and above his lip, the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a loud gulp before he nods silently.

A large hand comes up to pat his cheek, tapping it lightly a few times. “Smart kid,” the man says before standing straight. “Don’t even think about calling security either or you won’t make it out of the theater in one piece.”

He turns, kicking the door to your date’s stall open before waltzing out and heading back toward the theater. He ascends the steps, bright eyes locked on your form as he squeezes past the other moviegoers on your row to get to you.

He takes the seat next to you, slipping an arm around your shoulder and loving the feeling of you snuggling in closer. He leans over, lips pressed to your ear as he asks, “What’d I miss, sweetheart?” And he revels in the way your body tenses in his embrace, trying to pull back but he holds you to him.

“Toji –”

“Shhh, it’s rude to talk during the movie.” Toji reaches into the tub of popcorn you and your date were sharing, offering you some. You shake your head in refusal and Toji shrugs, shoving the handful into his mouth.

- - - - - -

The movie flies by, your stiff body held by Toji the remainder of the film. When the lights turn back on, he holds you there until all the other guests have dispersed. When the last guest is gone, he looks at you, a wide grin stretched along his face.

“Missed y–”

You shove his arm off of you, brushing past him and hurrying down the stairs. Angry would not be a strong enough word to describe what you’re feeling right now. Maybe irate. Enraged. Incensed. No, still not enough.

You push out of the theater doors, Toji hot on your trail. Your eyes scan the empty halls, seeing no signs of your date who you noticed after Toji’s arrival just happened to never come back from going to the bathroom and grabbing a quick drink. It’s like he vanished into thin fucking air.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Toji pleads, grabbing hold of your arm and you snatch yourself out of his hold.

“Don’t sweetheart me, Toji. What are you doing here?” You hiss and you hate the way his stupid pretty green eyes hold mirth in them. Like he’s enjoying that he’s made you mad. “What did you do?”

Toji’s smile widens more if that’s possible, the crescent scar on his lips only becoming more prominent. “What do you mean?” He asks innocently.

You shoot him a glare. “You know what I mean. What did you do to my date this time? Knock him out in the bathroom? Drown him in Dr. Pepper? Hang him upside down from the roof until all the blood rushed to his head and he died?”

Toji hadn’t even thought about the last two, but he takes mental notes…for research.

He shrugs, though. Because he didn’t do any of those things. “I didn’t touch him.”

You stare into his eyes, getting even more pissed because you know he’s being honest. “Then what did you do?”

He steps towards you, holding his hand out. “Nothing bad at all. Can you really blame me if your date’s a flake? Maybe he just doesn’t appreciate you the way I do.”

You peer down at his hand, rolling your eyes as you turn on your heel and storm down the hall. You leave the building making a sharp turn around the corner towards your car. This dumb ass theater only has one entrance and exit which has to be a fire hazard, you think. To get to it, you have to go down one of the alleys down either side of the building.

Your feet carry you down the alley, Toji’s hurried steps rapidly catching up to you. His hand catches your wrist, turning you to look at him. You don’t pull away this time, knowing the more you push him away, the harder he’ll try to get closer.

“Hey. Hey, stop. Please,” he pleads and in the darkness of the alley, beneath the soft glow of the moon, his green eyes shine brightly. You have to close your eyes so you don’t immediately fall back into his hold. The second you look into his gaze, you know you’ll be his again. You shake your head.

“Toji, please. I left to get away from you. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I’m not doing anything, baby,” he says softly. “I just don’t understand why you’d leave without even saying anything.”

He genuinely sounds hurt. You do feel guilty, but you needed to do what was best for you and your life. Toji would ruin any chance you had at happiness with anyone else if given the chance. He would have never let you have a life in Tokyo, but here you were hundreds of miles away from the city…and he still won’t let you be happy if it’s not with him.

“You know why, Toji,” you breathe softly. “I can’t keep doing this jealousy thing with you. You just…get too crazy. Look at tonight.”

“Okay. That’s fair, but tonight, I really didn’t do anything. Your date broke his phone and I just…suggested he go hurry and get that fixed.”

Behind your closed eyelids, you roll your eyes because while that may be somewhat true, it’s not the whole truth and you know it.

“Still, Toji–”

He cuts you off, his other hand coming up to hold your cheek and you melt into his touch just like you knew you would. It’s annoying that literally closing yourself off to him does nothing because every part of Toji is your weak spot, crazy as he is.

You open your eyes to gaze up at him, those beautiful eyes of his peering into yours and you know you’re done for.

“I came all this way to see you, baby,” he rasped. “I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”

You did. Fuck, you did miss him. You know that makes you an idiot to miss his crazy ass. You ran away from your entire life, from everything you’d known to get away from him and now that he’s standing right in front of you, your body is reacting in a way you couldn’t resist even if you tried. You know you should move, step away from his hold, but you don’t. You can’t.

Weak. Don’t do it!

It feels like you have an angel on one shoulder, a devil on the other. Your brain is screaming at you to not give in to Toji, to turn around and leave him standing alone in this alley. But your heart is screaming for your brain to shut the fuck up.

You nod, inhaling deeply before sighing, giving in because you always knew you would. “I missed you, too, Toji.”

You don’t know why you miss him. Is it the excitement that comes with being with someone like Toji? Is it the way he wants you and only you even to the point he’d practically kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe even actually kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe you’re just as crazy as Toji – but you’re his all the time.

A small smirk curls at the corner of Toji’s lips, his other hand releasing your wrist to cup your other cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Toji leans forward and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you, your head tilting up to meet his lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he runs the tip of his nose up and down the bridge of yours over and over, letting out a shaky breath before he presses his forehead to yours.

“I might’ve threatened to crush your date's head in in the bathroom while he was taking a shit…” Toji confesses suddenly before he presses his mouth to yours.

This might’ve pissed you off before, but now, Toji’s confession goes straight to your core and you gasp. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His hands tilt your head so he’s able to have more access to you, to take everything you have to offer like he always does.

The kiss heats up in no time. Toji grunts as your tongue tangles with his. Your hands come up to grab on to his shirt, tight as ever, bunching the fabric tightly in your fists. Toji steps back, guiding you to the wall of the alley, his kiss growing feverish, desperate. You moan into his mouth, rolling your hips forward when he presses his hard body against yours.

Toji breaks the kiss, panting as he drinks in the sight of your half lidded eyes, kiss swollen lips, that damn dress you’re wearing that’s keeping him from the rest of you. His fingers glide down the side of your face, along your neck and down your chest. They ghost over the swell of your breasts, over your nipples and he stops, running his thumb slowly back and forth over the hardening peaks, smiling to himself when your back arches off of the wall. He lets his hand continue their journey wandering down your form under he reaches the hem of your dress.

Then he feels his jealousy begin to crawl up his throat. He can’t help it when he thinks about you wearing this pretty dress for someone else.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, though the venom is dripping from the word. “You wear this for that fucker in the theater?”

Wide eyed and maybe a little dazed by the sudden change in attitude, you nod. Toji fists the hem of your dress, tugging the fabric gently.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you wore it for him?” He wants to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you gulp, heart thumping against your ribs. Not in panic, not in fear…but in excitement. “Yes, Toji. I wore it for him.”

Toji hums to himself…and then a loud shredding noise fills the empty space of the alleyway as Toji absolutely destroys the fabric of your dress. Heat pools in your core immediately, a soft gasp rushing past your lips. His hands come up to your waist, spinning you around. He presses his body against your back, your front pushing against the wall of the alley.

“So sweet of you to dress up for him,” Toji breathes as he leans down, running his nose along your neck, inhaling your scent. “Hope you had fun tonight.” His hands find the remnants of the hem of your dress and he pulls it up, bunching the fabric up at your waist. Then his hands are running along your body again, against your bare ass, brows lifting in surprise when he feels the thin line along your waist.

“Oh? A thong, too,” he hums, his voice sending chills up your spine. “Looks like you were planning on having fun tonight. Weren’t you?” You nod, but Toji clicks his tongue. “Words, baby.” 

You yelp quietly when Toji brings his large hand down on your exposed cheek. The loud smack echoes through the alley. “Yes,” you say breathlessly. “Yes, I was.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad your date left you then.” He tells you, and you can hear the fake pout coating his words.

Toji toys with the band of your thong before he hooks a finger into the band and easily rips the fabric of your underwear, too, and you think you’ll be lucky if you leave with even a single piece of clothing on after he’s done.

“I’m gonna touch you now. That okay?” He asks, because even through his jealousy, he’s a gentleman…sometimes.

“Yes, Toji.” 

Toji presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, you’re so good for me.” He slips his fingers between your folds, hissing the moment he feels your slick coat his hand. “So damn wet for me already. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Toji, please,” you whimper when his fingers find your clit, rubbing soft circles over the sensitive nub. It’s enough to make your skin ignite with chills, but not enough to bring you even a little closer to the edge.

“I’m a little upset with you, you know?” Toji tells you casually. He slips one of his fingers into your cunt, grunting when your walls immediately squeeze down on him. “Fuck, you thought you could take this sweet little pussy and run away, huh?”

He pumps his finger in and out of your hole slowly, torturously. Your legs are trembling, hands pressed against the wall as you bite down on your lip to keep quiet. You’re in the open, getting fingerfucked in an alley. It would only take one person turning the corner for you to get caught literally with your pants down.

Your brows knit together as Toji keeps up his pace, leisurely adding another thick digit into your pussy. The coil in your belly grows tighter and tighter with every pump of his fingers, with every quiet squelch of your pussy.

“Fuck, you feel so good squeezing me like this,” Toji groans from behind you. “Wish this was my cock.” You whimper, pushing your hips back against his hand. “You want that, sweetheart?” He coos, curling his fingers into that spongy sweet spot that brings tears to your eyes. You gasp, rolling your hips back to meet his thrusts, riding his hand. 

He continues, “Yeah? You want my cock to stretch this tight little pussy, huh? Want me to fill you up like I used to?”

“God, yes! Toji. Fucking fill me up, please, please,” you beg, reduced to a teary mess against the alley wall.

Toji chuckles, stopping his ministrations and you wait for him to start again, chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. When you feel his fingers leave your core, you damn near feel like sobbing. You hear his zipper come down, feel his cock springing against your ass and the stickiness of his precum smearing against your asscheeks.

He leans forward, a hand resting next to your head as he whispers into your ear, “You ready for me?” Then he pushes forward, his thick cock stretching you wide open for him. It burns in the most delicious way, but you still whine quietly. And it makes Toji pause.

“Tapping out already?” He chuckles, kissing the side of your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, baby. How many times have we done this? You can take it, right?”

“I can take it, Toji,” you mewl softly. “I can take it.”

“Good girl.” Toji nudges your cheek with his nose and you turn your head on instinct, your mouths connecting as Toji pushes forward, his cock slowly filling you. You pant into his mouth as his length stretches you open him, makes you accommodate him until he bottoms out, a deep groan leaving him.

The weight of his cock stretching you is enough. The moment Toji hits your sweet spot, your walls convulse, your orgasm catching you off guard just as a couple of patrons are walking past the dark alley. Toji puts a hand over your mouth, muffling your moans as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He doesn’t move…his gaze locked on the couple as they stand at the end of the alleyway talking to each other and laughing. They’re none the wiser to the way your pussy is clamping down so hard on his dick he could cry. It feels too good and he doesn’t have the patience to wait for them to fuck off. He’s been waiting. He’s done with that.

He grits his teeth as he pulls his hips back, hearing you gasp at the sudden emptiness and then he rolls his hips forward, hard. You cry out into his hand, eyes squeezed shut as Toji watches the couple from afar.

“Shhh. You don’t want them to hear, do you?” He taunts.

Them?

Your eyes shoot open, your blurry vision clearing enough to see a couple at the end of the alleyway. Right when you see them, Toji pulls back for a second time before he slams into you again over and over and over, grunting roughly into your ear as you both watch the couple at the end of the alleyway deep in conversation.

You pray they don’t come your way. You pray they turn around and go back the way they came…And some sick part of you prays Toji fucks you even harder because something about being so close to being caught has your arousal absolutely dripping down your thigh, coating Toji’s cock.

“You like this, huh?” Toji groans. “Hiding in plain sight, getting fucked like a slut? This is new for you.” He slams into you again, bottoms out into harder and harder, his hand squeezing down over your mouth to muffle your cries.

“This is why I love you so damn much,” he grunts, pressing his cock as far into you as possible before pulling back and doing it again. “You’re perfect for me, made for me.”

The couple at the end of the alley finally walks off, going the opposite way. The moment they’re out of sight, Toji releases your mouth, letting you cry out for him freely.

“Fuck, Toji!” You moan as he pounds into you with reckless abandon.

“Did you think…” he groans, hands coming down to squeeze your ass as he fucks into you. “There’s anywhere on this earth you could run to…” he’s panting, squeezing your ass so hard you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. “Where I wouldn’t find you?”

You’re keening into the open air now, taking every fucking harsh thrust Toji gives you. You press your forehead to the wall, feeling that familiar coil building up again, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re mine, fucking mine, sweetheart. I’ll always find you,” he grits, dragging his lips against your cheek, pressing possessive and wet kisses along your face and neck. “You could never run from me.”

He bottoms out again, his slick balls slapping hard against you, muttering, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fucking fill you up, put a fucking baby in there so you can never leave me again.”

There it is. The jealousy. The possessiveness. The craziness that you fucking love. And that’s all it takes for that coil to snap again. Your release crashes over you as you scream Toji’s name out, not caring who hears. He thrusts into you hard, fast, grunting, kissing your face sloppily until he pushes his cock into you as far as he can go. You feel him cum before he says he’s cumming, the warmth of his release filling your pussy, painting your pink walls white.

Toji buries his nose into your hair, trying to catch his breath as you both come down from your highs.

You’re an idiot. 

You tell yourself this as you come down from the high of your back to back orgasms. 

You’re an idiot…And maybe just as crazy as the man you ran away from in the first place.

Toji pulls out of you, tucks his cock away back into his pants and spins you back around. Toji places a wet kiss on your lips and takes your hand in his. 

“Let’s go home.”

[evilcowgirl]

jealous ellie headcanons

ft. sapphic longing

i get my inspo from sintuationships bc im real

୨♡୧

ellie doesn't like not being around you at social events, or with you out of her sight. it stresses her out so much that she can't even properly enjoy herself without you close to her. can barely pay attention if someone's speaking to her because shes busy trying to watch you in the crowd.

convinces herself that everyone wants you. you often have to assure her that your friends and other people you interact with casually aren't secretly pinning over you or waiting on the opportunity to make a move. she never believes you, always stuck on the idea that you're too good to not have a billion more options.

ALWAYS thinks someone is flirting with you, and get pouty about it. when she's feeling bold enough she'll say something direct.

"i mean you didn't see the way she was looking at you from my perspective, you guys were basically at 3rd base."

ellie knows that you're only her friend, that you don't owe her loyalty, but anytime you bring up time you've spent with someone else she goes all quiet and short with you, not because she's mad at you, but because she gets an unexplainable feeling in her stomach like she's gonna drop dead when she thinks of you enjoying the company of anyone else but her.

cannot go an hour without bringing you up to other people (barely exaggerating.) her mind wanders to you so often she hardly even notices it. at the sight of a trinket you'd like, or a color she knows you love. whenever she hears someone say something that reminds her of you, she's quick to to point that out. you stay on her mind always.

can't handle being away from you too long, she gets antsy and starts asking around about your whereabouts. especially when she's missing you, all hell breaks loose. when she finds out that you were only getting lunch or something simple like that she feels embarrassed at how desperate she was to find you. (she'll definitely do it again tmr.)

likes to see you sitting in her room, around all her stuff doing whatever. painting your nails, reading, listening to music ect. just getting to see you in her personal space makes her happy. knowing that you're safe and with her.

will start an argument if she doesn't know where you've been. arguing with ellie is always slightly maddening because shes so nonchalant when she's being ridiculous that it makes you question yourself.

she's so sweet and nervous when she apologizes though, going over what shes going to say over and over in her room and still messing up.

"i'm just—fuck this is stupid—i shouldn't have said what i said to you. . . about the thing earlier?" she'll look away like a scolded puppy waiting on you to say something. "i'm sorry."

if you accept her apology, you can visibly see the fear leave her body. the worst thing that could happen to her is losing you and anytime she thinks that might happen her whole world gets turned upside down until she knows you're okay with her.

she doesn't see you as her property, just something really special that she wants to keep safe and close.

likes to keep a hand on you when you're walking with her. on your waist, a hand around your wrist or tugging at your clothes when she needs you to follow. she doesn't care if people notice, she'd prefer them to see actually.

writes the little things she notices about you down like she's studying you or something. the way you look at her when you're listening intently, how you act when you're sleepy. things she knows no one else would take note of. she jots down her thoughts about you when they're overwhelming because it helps, talking about it isn't an option she doesn't want to share you with anyone.

"she's so pretty when she's doing her hair, like a fucking angel on earth. she's driving me INSANE. i feel like i'm going to mess this up somehow."

gets jealous when you're babying dogs in front of her and will admit it !

"you never pay that much attention to me." when you totally do.

huge complainer, she's so bold about it too ! if you're spending any extra time with someone she'll get all dramatic about it and ask when you guys' wedding is and if she can be the maid of honor because shes petty.

can and will make things a competition if that means she'll get the chance to show off to you. some guy your age is impressive at target practice? she'll make an effort to double what he did just to say she can.

"i guess I've just had more experience." meanwhile she knew exactly what she was doing.

getting praise from you is like her main goal, anytime you let her know you're proud of her she feels like the most capable person on earth. on the other side of that is her absolutely debilitating jealousy when it comes to hearing you brag on other people. ellie doesn't pride herself on being nice but she gets pretty mean when she feels like you're giving attention she should be getting to others. you mention how well jesse did on his patrol and all of the sudden she's going on about how she's killed more infected as a kid than jesse could even imagine seeing.

oppositely, shes so sweet to you when you're feeling down, always making sure you know no one's allowed to mess with you (other than her) and if someone had she'd set things straight.

when you're feeling bad, or you're sick she likes to watch you sleep because you look peaceful and its ideal for her to see her girl safe nd happy.

strokes your hands and face while you're asleep, careful not to wake you. she's so infatuated and isn't quite sure how to handle it yet but for now she's able to roll with just being your person.

[matchamiko]

lol neuvillette just sucking ur nipples or smth is enough to have u going a bit insane right??? RIGHT????

Giggling so hard rn

Warnings: breast worship/play, dry humping, mentions of masturbation, mentions of penetrative sex; previously established relationship.

If there’s one thing Neuvillette is, it’s thorough. You ask him about one of his trials after he returns from the Opera Eclipse, and he’s talking for hours about every piece of evidence in the case; you shyly ask him to brush your hair and he’s producing several combs and brushes and an oil to massage your scalp; he decides to take you on what humans call a date, and you’re trekking through the purple fields in the countryside to the most darling little picnic spot and dining on pastries until dusk, and then returning to the city to stroll about the fountains and gardens arm in arm with the promise of a mightily thorough kiss at the end.

And he’s no different when playing your body like a fiddle. He's got you folded into his lap, office door locked, blinds only half drawn but there's no danger of anyone looking in, not when he's so wrapped around you that it's hard to seen even a glimpse of your bare skin. It started as a visit for tea, the leaves you brought from your village in the Vale fresh and still warm from being dried over a fire, chatting idly in the way you two did that Neuvillette found so refreshing and simple. Then it led to you shyly asking for a kiss, having missed him so dearly and so wantonly, shown in the way you gripped his lapels and leaned further into him with a questioning sigh and an answered grunt. And now, you're half dressed spread over his thick thighs, his coat strewn next to the two of you and his gloves somewhere with it.

"Let me taste you," he murmurs against the column of your throat, hands running up the length of your back and down again, squeezing your hips into a dizzying grind. Your breasts press deliciously against the cotton of his shirt, nipples slipping and rubbing over his chest and every time you shudder with pleasure, Neuvillette basks in the way you arch harder into him like a cat. You feel wonderful, writhing over his groin and trying not to let your darkest desires overtake you like you so often did. The precious little tea farmer he'd befriended and then courted and then decidedly and silently pledged himself to; you're full of dirty secrets and filthy wants that has him spiralling into territories he'd never even thought about before. And your tits were one of them, to put it frankly.

He's fucked you before, numerous times, to your hearts content and more often than not, to your dictation and command. It wasn't surprising that your precious Iudex wasn't particularly well versed in human seduction, and you bravely stood up to the task you had completely made up, of showing him everything you desired and introducing him to everything he desired. But today, in the secrecy of his office, the knowledge that just outside the doors, people mill about and wait for an appointment with him; Neuvillette steps away from his duties and demands the feel of your supple skin against his teeth.

"I admit," a hand grasps the fat of your breast, squeezing roughly with the whoreish rhythm you have going on with your hips, "I've been thinking often about having you like this, desperate and desiring me all from the touch I give you here," fingers pluck at your nipple before he dips his head and takes it into his mouth. He's done this before, too many times to count, but with him being fully dressed and you an absolute mess in his lap; it feels different, raw and unfiltered in the wavering sanctity of his office. You can feel Neuvillette's tongue flattening over your nipple, swirling and curling like he does between your legs and it sends you arching into him, further into his reclined figure and deeper into his lap. A dizzying moan leaves you chest when you feel the hot, hard press of his cock through his trousers, confined in such a way that it's mind numbing when you grind against it. He pulls back for a second, looking up at you with hair strewn about his face, cheeks red and ears redder, panting hot and wet against your skin.

"Don't stop, please," he doesn't care for your politeness, doesn't care for your request, doing as he pleases with your body; one hand gripping your bottom and urging you to grind against him, and the other grasping meanly at your tit. Neuvillette seems positively ravenous this afternoon, though it should have been obvious in the way he allowed you to push him over to the settee and mount him without asking.

"I'm plagued with thoughts of you during matters that I should be attending to, important matters that garner my fullest attention and yet -," he suckles a bruise into the swell of your breast, held firm by his hands, squishing them together and nuzzling into the crevice between, breathing deeply enough to shudder, "All I can think about is you, what I want to do to you the next time we are alone, the next time you allow me to have you in such undignified ways," you're shaking when he regains his focus and takes your nipple into his mouth, tugging and nipping and gnawing like he does on his bottom lip when he's concentrating, suckling hard before letting go with a pop - allowing you to take a gasping breath and to look down at how positively enthralled he is at he taste of your doughy flesh,

"You don't need to be so formal while you're playing with my tits Neuvillette," you've always been more straight forward, more brash and crude, than him; having grown up in the countryside, in another nation, a whole other life to the one he leads. He leaves a wet trail from his tongue over your nipple, catching it between his sharp teeth and tugging enough to make you whine lowly, "I - can't stop thinking about you too, 'specially when I'm on my own," the implication is implicit but Neuvillette surges up into you, hips strong and knocking into yours with a grunt. He's filled suddenly with images of you writhing in your bed, hand stuffed between your thighs, fingers wet and slick in your cunt - the same he can feel pulsing and purring over his lap.

"Tonight, I've cleared my last appointment so I can spend it with you," he gasps, lips swollen from their assault on your breasts, eyes unfocused and pupils blown wide with want "After supper, after I spoil you like I have promised; you are showing me everything you do when you are alone and desperate for me,"

[disneyprincemuke]

be mine * gr63

your last night together ended on a bad note, and now you’re back after months to explain yourself

pairings: george russell x fem!reader

warnings: cussing

notes: ooooh wrote this at like 3am lfg!! i also started to obsess about alex albon?? yoooo that man is so fine i swear to god…

(sex) // (be mine)

it’s not all that different — not seeing you every couple of days like he used to.

george, however, does let you cross his mind a couple times a week when he’s not busy. it’s usually when he’s left in a corner with his thoughts. the way your eyes looked into his and how your dimples would show before your smile consumed him in a way he couldn’t describe.

he realised about a week after he last saw you that alex knew about your prior arrangement. alex didn’t elaborate on anything, simply just let george know that he was aware.

your name never came up in conversation again.

well, once when lily came to visit during a race weekend and was wondering why you refused to attend. and the girl did also question why george has been looking so upset in the recent days. all he could do was exchange a glance with alex and come up with a pathetic excuse.

sometimes he thinks he’s seen your face in the crowd by the paddocks, but it’s always just his imagination. so when he looked around the paddock 30 minutes ago and thought he had heard your voice, he simply brushed it off as another one of his delusions.

until he saw you again. not once, but four more times.

he’s not going crazy, is he?

george quickly rules out insanity when he sees you a fifth time in the williams garage having a conversation with logan. and you look good; perhaps the best he has ever seen you.

not to say that you looked bad before. there’s just a different glow to you that he can’t seem to figure out.

it was when logan greeted him with the call of his name and a wave that made you whirl your head around to finally look at him.

surprisingly, you do acknowledge his presence. you smile widely at him and give him a simple wave. and then your turn back around to continue your conversation.

george just walks away. he contemplated coming up to you and having a chat, but with the way things had ended that night, he decided it was better off.

meanwhile, your heart races in your chest as you resume your conversation with logan. you knew the repercussions of tagging along but you clearly hadn’t figured out completely how to face him.

you promised yourself, a few days prior, that you were ready to face george despite everything. you didn’t have it all mapped out like you had promised alex, but you can’t admit that to him.

at this point, you find yourself straying from the once engaging chat with logan. george is what took over your brain.

it seems that he took the hint as he pats your shoulder and bids you goodbye, claiming that he has some marketing activity to do.

you have thought of george in times of separation. it’s hard not to when he’s practically everywhere — your social media timelines, alex’s story and advertisements. it’s impossible to erase him from your life.

which is why you really tried to get it together while you were gone.

but the privilege of figuring out what to finally say to george will never come, it seems, as lily takes logan’s spot. she puts her hands on her hips and glares at you sternly.

“when are you going to talk to him?” lily questions with an eyebrow raise. “the day is almost over.”

you look down at your hands to avoid her intense stare. “i don’t know what to say to him… i gave him some bullshit excuse the last time i saw him.”

you hear lily sigh. you watch her take a step to lean on the wall. “and you came with us this weekend to finally debunk everything,” she reminds you slowly in hopes to keep you in check. “he won’t stay single forever, you know.”

“i know.” you lift your head up to showcase your frown. “but how can he still want this if i’d told him that the nights we spent together meant nothing to me?”

“i don’t know, but neither will you if you don’t talk to him.”

that’s all lily needed to say to you. you find yourself being pushed by an imaginary lily muni to the mercedes home in the paddocks.

as fate would have it, george is walking out of the glass doors, parting ways with lewis. he does acknowledge you like you did with him earlier.

except it’s a much shorter greeting. it’s a simple elegant smile, almost making you feel the hurt seeping through, before making a sharp turn away from you.

“george, hi.” somehow, you had found a voice from within you to call out to him. “i haven’t seen you in a while.”

he stops on his tracks, slowly turning to face you. “hi.” he takes off the sunglasses sitting on his face and gives you a more genuine smile. this time, sending waves of familiarity through your chest. “how long has it been- 4… maybe 5 months?”

you nod slowly, the awkwardness of the exchange finally making itself known. “yeah, i’ve been busy with work.”

his eyebrow raises. “yeah? that’s incredibly coincidental. i was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

sure, he is admittedly still upset with you. only a little bit. but how was he supposed to react when you gave him the stupidest reasons why he can’t take you out on a date?

what the actual fuck did you mean by ‘it’s just sex’ before bolting off and never showing up ever again?

you sigh and drop your head. “i mean, i was.” you can almost hear him rolling his eyes when you see him shift his weight to one leg and a hand rests on his hip. you lift your head up and quickly come to your own defense. “for good reason.”

“in what world did you think saying that would make me feel better?” george narrows his eyes down at you, an expression you never come across too often personally. “i asked you out on a date when i last saw you and you blew me off as if we hadn’t already seen each other bare.”

you close your eyes briefly and hold your hands up, attempting to calm him down. you just wanted to explain yourself, that’s all.

“if you would just let me explain myself, i want to start off with an apology.” you search his eyes for any signs of pulling away, and when you conclude that he is willing to stay and listen, you continue. “alex was right before when he told me to get my shit together if i wanted to date you.”

george’s lips carve into a scowl. you can almost imagine what he’s going to say next. “alex?”

“yes. i admitted to him our little arrangement but when he advised me not to hurt you, i realised he was right,” you frown, your own eyebrows furrowing in sadness. you fold your arms over your chest and rub your arms as you feel the cold sweat from the nerves of laying your cards down.

“i wanted to go on a date with you so bad, please trust me. but with all of my baggage, you didn’t deserve someone who would only give you half of themself,” you explain.

this makes george relax his shoulders a little bit. he is more used to you being a person of very few words and emotions. to have you ramble on to him in a shaky voice and watch your lips quiver is enough to make him forget the hurt he was feeling just mere minutes ago.

“i didn’t want to be with you and only have half of my foot in,” you say. “all of those nights i spent with you, they meant everything to me. i loved sleeping over with you in your bed and waking up to the sound of you humming to yourself while your brushed your teeth.

“and i’m just sorry. i’m sorry that i told you it meant nothing. it wasn’t just the sex to me. you’re not just that.” with every word, your frustration grew as you realise how stupid you had been; how careless you were with george’s feelings while trying to protect it. “you’re more than that, i know it.”

you open your mouth to continue your sentence, until you realise that he’s just been staring down at you throughout your whole monologue. this time with a small grin to his face and his cheeks slightly red.

you take a step back and put your hands down to your side. “what i’m trying to say is that i would like to get to know you better.” you clear your throat with a sheepish grin. “if you allow me.”

george, who had been picking on his phone’s exterior, puts it into his pocket. he folds his arms over his chest. “(y/n), even then i knew all your baggage,” he starts with a soft chuckle. “i asked you out on a date despite all that.”

“my conscience never would have been able to live with it.”

“i appreciate it, and i guess your heart was in the right place.” he takes a step forward and engulfs you in a hug, rubbing your arms as a way to convey that he understands. “but i would have let you break my heart over and over again if it meant that i could be the one to have you.”

you lift your head to look up at him. “isn’t that a tad dramatic for how little we know of each other, george?”

george just forcefully pushes your head back into his chest, this time with his hand brushing through your hair.

“i can’t believe you lied to me and broke my heart over something i was already well aware of.”

you tighten your arms around him, fully taking in his embrace. the fact that you’re in the middle of the paddocks as an obstacle to everyone else has not sunken in yet. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”

“yes, you will be paying for the first date actually.”

taglist (comment to be added): @scenesofobx

[4beomy]

★ small talk, big talk | c.bg

synopsis: in which you beg for your annoying seatmate to shut up for just one class. wc: 2.2k genre: fluff, drabble

You were never the one to not be able to focus in a class. There wasn’t a day where you slept during a lesson—okay maybe you’re selling yourself a bit too much— but still, the point stands, you were always focused, prepared whenever a teacher would think it was a good idea to randomly call on you. And frankly, you prided yourself on that.

Until you were doomed. Your math teacher had snapped one day and from the heat of the moment, decided to assign seats again. You groaned—finding her reaction to be an over exaggeration, but nevertheless, you pulled yourself out of your old seat and stood with the rest of your classmates waiting for your name to be called.

“Y/N. You’re here.” you looked at the desk she was pointing at and immediately, you fought the urge to audibly whine. She chose a back table, way too far from the board—way too far for you to actually be able to read whatever she writes on there. Before you could try and remind her that you asked in the beginning of the trimester to be seated in the front due to your embarrassingly poor eyesight—she calls out another name.

“Beomgyu, you’re next to her.”

You’re doomed.

“Miss, I—” you get cut off with your teachers stern voice. “Don’t test me today. Go to your seat Y/N.”

Before you could respond, she had already moved on with calling other people’s names. You just had to suck it up and walk over to your new desk—And bare your new deskmate. It wouldn’t be for too long anyway, you’d talk to her later and convince her to change your seat.

“Introduce yourselves to your new neighbors. By the time I’m done trying to open the slideshow, you should have exchanged the basics.” your teacher instructed.

When you settled your bag on the floor next to your leg, you could see from your peripheral vision that Beomgyu was looking at you. Hesitantly, you glance at him— his head was completely turned to a 90 degree angle tilt, literally staring at you.

“Hey.” he beamed when you finally noticed him, a grin so big you were sure you transformed into a winning lottery ticket for a second.

You didn’t know it was possible for your face to falter, or for the corner of your lips to fall, even when they weren’t up to begin with, but it happened. Because a realization set on you. Beomgyu, the officially certified class disturbance, was going to be sitting next to you. You were in the comfort of your previous seat, being able to roll your eyes everytime he decided to open his mouth—to either make a stupid joke or ask the most idiotic question—and now, that was gone. You were in the comfort of your previous seat, not having to have him close enough for you get a migraine, and now thats gone too.

You exhaled managing to put a weak smile on your face—one that trembled, “Hi.”

Your plan was simple. To just sit, and listen, like you’ve always done until you could go up to your teacher and ask for a seat change.

But that didn’t happen. Not the seat change, not the listening.

“You’ve been seeing just fine the past couple of weeks Y/N. All of a sudden when there’s a seat change, you can’t see?” it was a week after the seats were assigned, and you finally decided to request a seating change. It was torture to put things simply. It was like your ears only picked up Beomgyu’s sound waves and you were very, very close to pulling out your hair—officially declaring your insanity. When you saw her eyebrows raised, questioning the motive behind your request, you internally panic at the thought that she might refuse to change your seat.

“It’s not all of a sudden! I told you about it before when you asked us what seats we prefered! I swear I can’t see the board from where I am right now.”

She sighed, choosing to study you for a minute, then finally saying “Hun, Beomgyu isn’t that bad. You can live sitting with someone new, yea?”

So. That ultimately failed.

New plan. Ignoring your seatmate till the trimester ends and hoping for the best.

“You know, I totally like ice cream. But I don’t like the sweet flavored ones, you know? I mean like, the really really sweet ones. I hate cookies n' cream ice cream. But then—”

It was the daily rambles from Beomgyu, how great. Thankfully, your brain had finally learned to filter out his voice faster. But seriously, was he insane? Who was he talking to and who was listening? Because it was definitely not you.

“Y/N, what about you?”

Your thoughts come to a stop, your brain, for some reason, not filtering out his voice when he decides to call your name.

You would’ve asked what exactly he was talking about, but then, you did have some compassion left in you and you kind of didn’t want him to know that he was talking to the molecules in the air instead of you.

So, you settle for a general response. “Yeah, I totally dooont—” you narrow your eyes at the way he his eyes turned a little sad so you immediately switch it up, “I’m toootally a big fan...?”

You think you said the right thing because a contrast to his sulky face a few seconds ago, a toothy grin spreads on his face, “A big fan? Definitely not bigger than me.”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Yeah..it’s my favorite” you say the second part quietly, not having the energy to put effort into the white lie.

The minute you hear your teacher coming in the classroom you pull out your notebook. You shoved your hand into your bag, trying to fish out a writing utensil, you get a bit frantic, confused on why you can’t find anything.

You came unprepared.

“Need a pencil?” you hear, then turn your head to the direction of your deskmate. You sighed, nodding. ”Alright, wait a second.”

You expected anything but him getting up, walking to some random student’s table.

You just wanted to run away out of embarrassment when the teacher stopped her lecture, arms crossed, tapping her foot over and over again impatient at Beomgyu’s disturbance.

He seemed tame —-and with what you could make from the small gaps of your fingers that were subtly over your face, he had a smile on. He walked towards you again, a cartoonish, accomplished smile on his face, and a pencil in his hand.

You swallowed the lump in your throat when the teacher gave you a disapproving look, for some reason, and finally continued the lesson.

“Here.” he puts the pencil conveniently on your notebook. But you side eye him, kind of annoyed that he caused such an awkward scene. “Why?” it was barely audible but he catches on, and his eyes look at you again.

“Hm? Oh—oh, it’s because Soobin’s like.. known for having really good pencils.”

“What?”

“Well not good pencils more like—”

“Mind sharing what you guys are whispering about to the class?” your teacher announced, the smile on her face showing the exact opposite of happiness. It was obvious it was directed to you guys because the whole class turns to stare, some rolling their eyes and others snickering.

Beomgyu shook his head quickly. “Sorry Miss.”

“Focus.” she warned and you both nod. When she turned to the board to write again, Beomgyu leaned sideways closer to you.

"It's more like.. Soobin wouldn't mind if you borrow and never give it back." he whispered. "And it would probably be a safer bet to like..take a pencil from him, you know?" he added.

You don't look at him, eyes glued to the board. "We should focus."

"Oh—oh, yeah." he moved away, the childish energy dimming.

You didn't say it but you did find it slightly endearing that he tried to make logic of walking across the classroom to get a pencil for you. Just slightly.

When the next day rolls around and he's talking about his favorite Taylor Swift song for the thirtieth time this month, you're oddly more focused on what he had to say. Even if his opinions were completely invalid.

"I'm telling you, Evermore is objectively the worst Taylor Swift album. Folklore was better by miles."

You narrowed your eyes at him, an unbelievable smile on your face, not believing someone could have such a bad take. Before you could start an argument with him, your teacher had slipped your graded test on your desk—no one noticed, but you did. Even when the paper was faced down, not actually being able to confirm your grade—you could hear her disappointed sigh, and it gave you the hint that you didn't do well.

"Also, the weather has been so bad these days. But even then, I'm just like...it's definitely better than sweaty armpits and bugs everywhere."

You don't focus on what he's telling you, your brain doing its best to filter out his voice as you stare blankly at the paper. You should turn it around and see what you got. It can't be that bad. Maybe not your best, but not that bad. Right?

Like ripping a bandaid, you slammed the paper around. And it dawned on you— the big, fat F.

Which did not stand for fantastic.

You could've used your deduction skills for a second and narrowed down why you did so bad— maybe because you were so busy laughing randomly whenever something that Beomgyu said pops up in your mind ...that you didn't study, maybe—maybe because whenever he would focus on the board, you could steal glances at his side profile, one that you found so genuinely beautiful— no, maybe because you haven't been focusing on your assignments lately...

No, it was Beomgyu. He successfully managed to distract you. Was he happy? Judging by the way you see him still talking, with the prettiest smile you've grown to warm up to very quickly, he is. You don't care if your irrational blaming was irrational. You don't care if you're wrong, your anger was still directed at him. Increasingly by the minute getting more and more annoyed the more you see his mouth move.

"I forgot to ask, but what's your favorite color—"

"Can you shut up?!" accidentally, your voice was way louder than you intended and immediately you're feeling regret when your eyes meet your teachers'. You apologize non verbally, showing the most apologetic face you could make but she was clearly not having it. You're doomed.

"Out. With your bags. Both of you."

Anger overrides the previous emotion, and you flare your nose, hastily carrying the shoulder straps of your bag, storming out. Beomgyu followed behind with his bag hanging on his shoulder, jogging to catch up with you.

He closed the classroom's door behind him, mirroring the way you were leaning on a wall, your leg stretched out in front of you.

"You okay?"

You shot him a glance, confused on why he would ask you that—especially when you basically just embarrassed him.

"Beomgyu—why...Why are you asking that?" your anger had basically dissipated, regret once again finding its way in the pit of your stomach remembering the way you yelled at him.

"Because I don't think you are... I just wanna hear it from you." for the first time, he doesn't look at you while talking, just held his stare at his feet.

"I mean—it was just..." you stopped because to you, it wasn't just a bad grade. It was a bad grade and you were disappointed. Extremely, to the point you had to act like a complete baby with such an outburst. "I failed the test. And then got angry for some reaso—look, I'm sorry I don't know why I yelled at you. It was just the heat of the moment and—"

You didn't notice that Beomgyu had zipped open his bag, taking something out until he offered you a long brown, paper bag.

You hesitantly accepted it, confused on what was happening.

The bag was hot, which makes you even curious so you take a peek of the inside.

Churros?

"I was gonna give it to you after class ended. Also, don't worry, it's completely fresh. My dad got it out of the oven right when I was heading to schoo—"

"How ...how did you know that I liked Churros? Like ...they're my favorite?!" you were semi scared, confused but still really, really happy at the warm cinnamon smell that made you crave shoving the churros down your throat.

Beomgyu gasps, looking at you with wide eyes. "You literally told me yesterday."

You furrowed your eyebrows—until, ah. He was talking about Churros that time? Thank god you were smart enough to read his facial expressions.

You bite your bottom lip slightly trying to hide your smile, looking down at the paper bag. He went out of his way to get you something that you said you liked.

"Thank you." you smile. And in return, he smiles too. Not the over the top grin, it was a heartwarming smile that was more than genuine. He smiled because he was genuinely happy at seeing you happy, not because he's just a person who naturally smiles all the time.

"Give me half, yeah?" he teased.

"Piss off Beomgyu."

a/n: apology drabble for the delay of nbm. u guys deserve this (non proofread) beomgyu fluff. i'm up for part 2 one day bcs i think this is still a bit platonic lol

[maxellminidisc]

You know I think people are a lil harsh on Heartstopper. I think the issue I actually have with it is adults framing it like its something for them and rallying behind it like it was also made for them and then holding it up as a pinnacle of gay media when they're not the very obvious demographic it was made for aka teenagers. Not to mention so many of these adults are rather unwilling to explore decades worth of gay media and art for some reason, which is where that overconfident posturing comes from. Like I dont think we'd be having as much of a conversation on it had it not been for adults on social media acting like it was high gay art, or worse harassing its young actors.

Like I watched it cause my niece watched it while babysitting, she's 13 and has just begun questioning and figuring out who she is and she enjoyed it. I was fine that she did and I was so confused why the show is so fraught over when it seemed liked at worst just very safe content, which for its demographic is fine! Like it's not anything worth rallying against, nor is it like insanely earth shattering. It's just a show that tries to talk to teenagers at a level they can gauge, it's very like family friendly fair and the most I could say was that at the very least it was nice that gay kids had something that simple and sweet at that age.

It is very much a fantasy that I think a lot of gay people who are older (and sure, even some teenagers) can't always relate to because essentially there is a sort of emphasis on an adult support system that a lot of us cant relate to, but I dont think its necessarily bad to hope that that IS the future for younger generations. But in general its only issue is being saccharine, but like that's the point, it's for kids...

RWRB on the other hand IS a problem, because it's an unapologetic white liberal fantasy for young adults, it's about people in families with positions of power being insufferably glib including such an instance being water boarding jokes all for the sake of pretty badly written romance.

Like there are those that argue that it too serves as escapism and romance fantasy for gay people so its use of politics is allowed to be weak. But like the book literally centers politics in its romance, politics is central to the romance plot, politics and the over exposure it brings is one of the "roadblocks" for its main couple. The election of the Latino leads mom is a big moment in the book. Like there are so many points where the politics and its consequences further the plot, only it's used conveniently and then shelved until conflict is necessary again. Its also odd to me that it's supposed to be set in an alternative universe america yet so much is unchanged about the actual world including politics outside of the mom (remember when they had to edit that section about Isreal out lol). I think again, the use of that is once again so lazy.

Saying romance can't have well thought out plot devices because romance is romance is so absurd to me because GOOD romance has to be well thought out and well written like any other genre. And to act like this book is the only lgbt fiction that ever existed worth reading is so wild to me, theres decades worth of lgbt romance novels; I've read TONS with a variety of subjects, themes, characters, etc that were MUCH better. Like again all it amounts to is the most insufferable artistically exploratory lazy types being way too loud and wrong about something that isn't remotely worth the hype.

I think if you really sit down and compare the actual media itself, Heartstopper (the show at least, I've never read the comics; I have read the other novel in question here) is the much more forgivable of the two, because its only crime is the wrong demographic running off with it sinddkkdkdksks

[ambalambs]

Okay another question! Tell me a little bit about each member of Miko's adopted family and his relationships with each of them please! <3

Okie dokie! Gonna toss this one under a cut too in case I get carried away again lol also kinda nervous to share info on basically npcs ive made for my oc but we're gonna choose to ignore the cringe in this house!

Okay so first since ive already talked a bit about her before is miko's adopted mom. Her name is Fiona u3u she's the rock of the household obviously. She keeps the kids and even her husband in line but she is so so compassionate. Her grandfather was an instrument maker and he'd play them too so she was raised around music which miko was very fortunate to stumble on a family that had that kind of background (perhaps there were some higher power at play there that guided him to this specific family. We may never know lol) she and miko get along sooo well he adores his mom. She's had to drag him around by the ear a few times tho while he was growing up lol but she has always been very good at reading him which when it comes to miko who is master at hiding his pain, she was always the first one to be like nuh uh come talk to me lol

Next is his dad, Brynstan. Miko's mom always lovingly calls him Bryn for short. Miko's dad is a good and simple guy. He's just a farmer lol he'd much rather not think about what's going on in the rest of the crazy world and only focus on his crops and chocobo and family. It took him a bit to really figure out how to be with miko when he was a kid. Like he came to love him a lot and seeing him as his own son but there were a lot of "what am I even doing" moments for him. But miko was always the biggest help to him around the farm and never complained and always found silly ways to make him smile. Their relationship is good of course but there's like this shadow over them I think that they both have always felt that for miko its like "You're my dad and I love you but you aren't the dad that I was supposed to need" if that makes sense? Considering the situation of Miko's real dad was always left as a mystery. But still his adopted dad is a really good guy who only ever did his very best by him ;u;

Now for his siblings lol his little brother's name is Dustan and oh boy are he and miko a pair. They would constantly tease and pester each other. Dustan would always get a kick out of pulling miko's tail or blowing on his ears to make them flick and just drive miko insane lol they never got into any serious fights tho it was just lots of brother teasing. Dustan was just a toddler when miko joined the family and was the one who actually coined the name miko for him. His little kid talk would try to say miqote but itd just come out as miko and so he'd just pitter patter around the house after miko repeating mikomikomiko over and over until it just became a thing lol miko just kinda accepted it since it seemed well enough to have a new name for a new life. But now that his brother is older they still tease each other but just not as much. Deep down dunstan kinda has a bit of nervousness around him since his big brother is now some big crazy super hero wol out there killing gods. Probably wouldn't be wise to pull the tail of a guy with that kind of power anymore, which miko notices that a bit in him but he tries to not let it bother him and tries to act like things are the same as they always were between them.

And lastly he has a little sister named Bayla. She was born not long after miko was taken in so miko has been there a part of her life since day one. And oh gosh she is just precious. Definitely has her mom's temperament but she is super gentle and has a bit of an adventurer's heart in finding wonder in everything she encounters in the world. She definitely looks up to miko a lot and she'd follow him around like a little duckling when they were kids. And miko was so good with her, he would braid her hair and put flowers in it, he'd let her follow him out on his little ventures in the woods and teach her all the things he learned from his miqo'te tribe and teach her songs and just all sorts of things. They were bestest buddies and she definitely took it the hardest in the family when he decided to leave and explore the world. Every time they get a letter from miko tho she's the first to rush into the house and excitedly beg their mom to read it outloud to the family lol him being the wol is the coolest thing to her, except the moments when she hears the stories of the really awful things he's had to fight from people in town spouting his legends. Its hard for her to know if its true or not when miko doesn't include some of those tales in his letters. She won't admit it tho but she is a teensy bit jealous of the twins cuz they get to adventure with her brother and why can't she gosh darnnit! She has half a mind to join the adventurers guild herself so she can go with him but her mom keeps trying to stop her lol she's still too young for that. But anyway I've rambled off about her a lot more than the others oops but yeah she and miko are super close and he misses and thinks about her a lot ;u;

Also just as an aside miko and his siblings would sometimes hang out in his room way past their bedtime and play triple triad. Theyd get scolded every time they got caught xD

But yeah thats the family! I hope that was kinda the info you were looking for. Its probably not terribly exciting since they're honestly just a very simple family living in a quiet spot out in gridania territory. For miko when he comes home after some of his adventures its always kinda jarring for him cuz its almost like time stands still there for him, not much changes except his siblings getting older. Miko does worry a lot tho that any enemies he's made out there will find out about them and come back and hurt them to get to him so he does try to keep as little information about them as possible from reaching the public eye.

[darkstalker1247]

Hydraulics AU: Part 9

This was strange. 

Steve’s mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Here was this giant creature who’d been feral even minutes before and was suddenly tame, curled up in the corner, away from him, as well as another person talking to him. What was this place? He’d just seen another world that looked like it was made of paper mache, and he looked and felt like a zombie. Even this strange new person he was talking to looked somewhat human, despite the whole being made of ink thing. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, however, so Steve rationalized to trust him for now. After all, he’d gotten him out of what he now described to be a literal hell hole. 

“I know you probably have a lot of questions,” Sammy breathed. “Lucky for us, the gentleman who runs this place stocked up plenty of ink and paper, so ask away.” He set a piece of paper on the floor in front of Steve; their only way of communicating. Steve pondered over what he should ask first. After a moment, he scrawled one particular question he settled on:

What happened to you?

Sammy went quiet after reading it. He rubbed his fingers together; Steve figured he’d struck a nerve. After a long silence, Sammy spoke up. “I wasn’t exactly forced into this, not at first.”

“It started off normal. I was antisocial as per usual, kicking everyone out of my department as soon as I could, just trying to get some peace and quiet. Those songs of mine never wrote themselves, after all. They started giving me a new type of ink to write with, and after the Machine was put in, we’d get trapped in the department sometimes. The ink would overflow and block the exit. Our boss’ answer was more distractions for me, which only made my work harder and my mind spiral more often than usual. It’s always been a problem, but it got just that much worse after… after the Ink Demon was made.” He paused for a moment, glancing at Bendy itself, who was seemingly alert, watchful. Then he continued. “I started hearing voices. They told me to do things I’m not proud of, like drinking that.” He paused again, this time pointing at the little inkwell sitting next to the paper in front of him. “It only made things worse. Not only did the voices come and go, I swore I started seeing things. Normal things for people around the studio, but I was seeing them in my sleep. I used to joke about how Bendy and his little cartoon friends would drive me insane…” 

The Demon snapped its head in their direction, recognizing its name. The two ignored it. “It got to the point where I was convinced that the Ink Demon was some kind of god, and that I needed to appease it in some way. When the Cycle ended up starting, I decided to try some kind of sacrifice. I basically screamed at the ceiling until I’d finally caught its attention, but when I tried to get it to accept a few people I’d stumbled upon as an offering, it just pushed me into the ink.” He moved his mask out of the way of his face and pressed his hand to his forehead. “It was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake. Susie warned me about getting too deep into my work…” 

Sammy had stopped, rubbing his head and trying to calm himself. He seemed finished with his story. Steve was very confused. Sammy’d mentioned some names that Steve recognized without knowing how or why. The Machine, the Cycle, even the name Susie was very familiar. He had a picture of the Machine in his mind; it was complex on the inside but had a simple purpose, to create an endless supply of ink. Strange. 

He couldn’t think of anything to say next, so he simply wrote underneath the question: I’m sorry. Sammy stared at this expression of sympathy for a minute before sighing. “Thank you,” he near-whispered, “Do you have any other questions? Anything at all?” 

Steve felt the need to write down something else, to clear this strange air of grief and regret. He scrawled down another query as fast as he could without misspelling anything. His black hands, still a horrifying surprise to look at, were shakier than usual. He managed to write out:

What happened to the Ink Demon? 

The two looked over at the Demon itself, who was fiddling with its fingers, clearly very bored. “Bendy,” Sammy called out, “He’s asking about you.” It snapped to attention and stood on its back legs, slowly thudding over to where they were talking. Steve noticed it left behind a giant puddle of ink where it had been sitting. It dragged its huge claws along the floor as it walked, and its heart beat slowly from wherever it was. It flopped down on the ground again behind Sammy, like a dog switching spots to be in the sun. It looked intently at Steve, but he wasn’t sure why. “That’s both an easier and a harder question,” Sammy said in a calmer, more purposeful tone. “The owner of the animation studio that the… place spawned from wanted to do something basically impossible. He wanted to make living cartoon characters. I’m not sure if he was actually the starry-eyed idiot he always pretended to be or if he was a money hungry monster, but he wanted living attractions. We don’t really mention him too often.” He glanced back at the Ink Demon behind him, indicating why. “Anyway, he wanted to make living cartoons. He experimented on that Ink Machine with some guy named Thomas Connor, and eventually they came up with something. The owner’s first experiment was his main character, Bendy.” He pointed behind him. “As you can see, it didn’t go so well.” 

Oh, that actually makes sense, Steve thought to himself. Money-obsessed business owner plays God and gets kicked in the ass for it. 

“After Bendy came out deformed, J- I mean, the owner locked it in some secluded location, away from us. It drove it mad, and uh… this is what we have now.” He seemed to stumble over his words. The Ink Demon grumbled. It sounded almost like it was in physical pain. It has emotions, then, Steve pondered again. Sammy sighed. “I know, buddy, I know… it’s over now. He can’t hurt you.” It whined and settled down, burying its head in its giant hands. 

Sammy looked back over at Steve. “Anything else?” 

Steve decided to write down one last question.

What was your boss’ name?

Sammy didn’t say anything. He motioned for Steve to hand him the pen he was using, and then wrote down something. His handwriting was really neat, all things considered. 

Joey Drew. 

Steve nodded in regards to Sammy. That’s all, he was trying to say, and thank you. 

___

it's been a bit hasn't it

ngl I'm really proud of the characterization in this one

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[craycraybluejay]

I purposely put myself in situations that inspire and stoke less than healthy patterns or put myself closer to said situations and then wonder why im feeling all insane. I think I want to convince myself that it's 'all temporary' and that whatever happened before in my head won't happen again. But it will. If only I could go off the deep end in one fell swoop in every way ever. Even that horrible thing you're thinking about, whatever it is. Yes, even that one. Just do everything terrible ever and then end it with suicide which is also Terrible Thing bc God forbid someone has autonomy over a life he not only didn't ask for but was given little reason to stay in. Ruin everyone's opinion of me. Inspire only fear and vitriol. Hatred and hurt and pain pain PAIN. Sure! I am a bad person! What are you going to do about it! By the time you figure out enough to send a mob after me, I'll already be long dead. You'll have to wash the smell of rot out of your fucking walls. Bitch.

Wish I could just. Grow from morbid into truly heinously unforgivable like that corpse flower. Despite what anyone believes, it would be growth. Just in a different, undesirable form. But wouldn't it be rad just to go apeshit? For a final trigger to send me bouncing round the walls intent on seeing blood? Everyone would hate me. That would be ok. I don't mind. People can feel how they feel. I know I unnerve people. It's like they can see the thoughts behind my eyes. Tick-tock, tick-tock; counting down into the next impassioned tirade. Is it about music or hurt? Or both? Breaking or building. Corruption or innocence. Life, death, rainbows and bloodbaths. Madness pulling at the corners. "Why are you staring?" I don't know. Your left forearm has taken a starring role in my next idea. It's not personal. Or maybe I like your smile. Or maybe I actually do just wonder how you look when you bleed. You'll never really know. Might be all of the above.

Sometimes the demon overtakes. I wouldn't say I have a split personality disorder, I don't really fit the criteria. I gave him a name though. Anyway he does that. And then suddenly I am not in a harmonic split of choice and rationale. A correct and healthy balance of right and wrong, good and bad. Suddenly I am tilted, the entire world is tilted, I feel dizzy and I don't know if it's somewhat physical or all mental. Everything shifts. Things mean something different. I'm more alien and darker. And that little voice (not an actual voice, no hallucination) is urging urging urging like it's the end of times, and we only have 24 hours left on Earth and nothing to lose. That whim? Do it. The other one too. You know you want to. What? Too pussy? Coward. Come on. You know me. I'm you. What's stopping you?

And then rationale and logic and all that are on the Defensive. No. Don't do it. Fight it. [More of the demons temptations.] Okay. Maybe do it a little but only in a really roundabout way that doesn't hurt anyone. Okay. Let's maybe go for a smoke. Let's close our eyes and fantasize. Think think think. Fight it. [More More More.] Hey maybe we should talk to someone? [Who is there to talk to? You're a freak. You say any of this shit to anyone they'll try to put a stop to it by treating you worse than farm animals. Worse than garbage. They deserve to die. They think you deserve to die. Doesn't that make you angry?] Okay so that's not an option. Um. Just hit something solid really hard until you're too tired to fixate. I don't know. [Aw. Is it not working? Little tired of rationality, aren't we? Relax. Let go. Don't think. Just do. Shoot first, questions later. Imagine how easy and simple things would be. They already are. Let me take care of you.] Tired tired tired. War.. Bed. Now. Don't look at anyone. Don't touch anything. Don't speak. Don't THINK. Shh quiet quiet quiet. [You can't silence me, idiot. I am you. What's the point of this? Who are you appeasing? There is a hell but there is no God. This isn't a war. There are no sides.] [Indulge.] Indulge. [Give.] Give. [Take.] Take.

[feisaru]

I have 2 questions: - What got you into Inazuma Eleven and into shipping SaruFei and -What is your MBTI?

I like those two asks a lot! I've been waiting for someone to ask me about it for ages. Thank you!

First, about my MBTI. I am one pretty solid INTJ, I have a tendency to lean towards ENTJ in certain aspects tho. (As a little trivia on the side: I'm interested in MBTI and so have been researching functions etc. for quite some time now)

What got me into IE?

Simple. My brother. Summer 2018, he was always watching that annoying soccer show on TV at our grandparents' house, always asking me to come join him. And you know what? One day, I did, and it was one of the best decisions throughout my entire life. The show (only the first season back then) grew onto me rapidly, especially its lovable characters. Heck, IE had me in such a chokehold that I even played soccer with my brother bc of it. At the very beginning, Afuro was living in my head rent-free. He specifically helped me through some very rough times and I will never forget that. He will always be dear to my heart. I did get "out of" IE at some point for reasons, but I always wound up coming back to it cause turns out, no other franchise has ever quite given me as much comfort as this one. Across the last few years, I've been always returning to it with my thoughts whenever it got especially bad. I'm glad I managed to properly come back to it and have it be a big part of my everyday life (hyperfixation be damned (very lovingly)).

Now, imo, Chrono Stone deserves a honorary mention. The CS game (and later the anime) made me feel approximately ten times better than the rest of IE, and that's something. Long story short, I picked up the game from the store the first time I was into IE right after I had done research and learned that this franchise is actually based on games. There was no other game there, so I thougt this would do, too. Then I didn't touch it until 2021. The reason I started playing it was that I desperately needed to escape reality and CS succeeded at distracting me excellently. Coming home in the evening to open my Nintendo was the single highlight of my day.

How did I become insane over Sarufei?

Good question, anon. I cannot really pinpoint the moment it happened, but I can tell you it was pretty quick. Their first bits together already caught my attention in the most brain-tickling way possible, like this one:

The CS manga panel where they let Saryuu cry after he lost and Fei reassures him played into that too (I bought the manga solely for that, but turns out it was overall good). I could go on and on about their psychological aspects that spoke to me right off the bat, but I'll spare you that. Before I knew it, I was trying to search out content of them at 3 am on a week day (good content of them is pretty hard to come by with, in my experience at least). My head was really really really full of them, as it is now as well. They're pretty much the reason I picked up drawing & content creating again after years. The first thing I did after I finished playing CS was draw them and create a social media account so I can post it, so I can find someone to talk about them to. I had to channel how unhinged I'm over them somehow. They're also the reason I still keep on drawing. They make so fucking ill and I'm rotating them in my head at all times.

In conclusion, thanks for letting me go wild through text although this is by far not the best thing I've ever written

(I have. So much to say its jarring but sharing my stuff makes me anxious sometimes nonetheless)

[brokenbones-tellstories]

I’m getting sad again. I don’t know if its the SAD or purely circumstantial, but I’m sad. I’ve spent a lot of time over the past several days thinking about a lot of things I’ve tried very hard to put to rest and I simply can’t. I’ve been cursed with this thing about me that makes everyone fall in love with me and as self centered or pompous or whatever you wanna call it that it sounds, it’s true. Ever since I graduated high school it’s been this constant thing that’s followed me around and I can’t shake it and it’s happening again. I swore I’d take it to my grave so I won’t go into details and give it away, even here, but it’s a thing and I don’t know what Im supposed to do with it.  I’m not mad at the person for it happening, not even close. I just wish I could be different. Not as....not whatever it is. Likeable, kind, patient, empathetic, understanding...something, anything, whatever it may be.  How do I explain that its this very personality that’s gotten me where I am? That someone fell so hopelessly in love with me that it near destroyed both of our lives for years on end and just when I thought I had learned my lesson, my best friend went and fell in love with me too. Since then he’s quite literally told me on more than one occasion that he wishes he never had met me and his life was better off without me in it. We barely talk about anything these days and whenever I find the courage to try and share anything with him I think he would like, I either get a simple “okay?’ back or ignored entirely.  I knew from day one that no matter what I did or how hard I tried nothing would ever work out between us. It wasn’t through any fault of our own, we’re just two very different people and life has made us volatile in ways that would never be compatible. We’ve hurt each other in near unforgivable ways with our wayward feelings and there’s a lack of patience and a disrespect that cannot go ignored. We are each others worst nightmares relationally and yet the best of friends at the same time. And still I love him I love him I love him. It’s a constant never ending thought and everything, every. single. fucking. thing. goes back to him. How we were in the city together every single time I was up there whether we even knew it or not. How our paths almost crossed before we even knew the other existed. How the very first conversation we had about a new show coming to broadway was the same one we watched the final performance of, together, four years later.  He, my endlessly frustrating, infuriating best friend who hates the very ground I walk on and still would come back to me, no questions asked, if I ever allowed him the chance. A

nd then there’s the rest of everything.  My best friend dipped out of my life without a word spoken and even after a year and I half I still don’t have an explanation from her. We’ve spoken cordially since, but when I threw out the olive branch asking for lunch or dinner, hoping for a chance to talk, she said no. The anger comes and goes like the seasons. I don’t always feel good enough to be her friend and I often wonder if it’s my own insecurities getting in the way, or if its my new found self respect telling me that I deserve better.  Whatever the case may be, I miss her more than anything. I wonder who her daughter is growing to be. I want to ask her what happened with her ex. I want to know if she’s okay. I wanted her to meet my son and to be happy I’m happy. To breathe that sigh of relief with me when I realized I was happy and okay and I had survived the single worst year of my life. She was supposed to be there forever. The champion of all my insane ideas and my adventure buddy. That girl would’ve gone anywhere with me until she didn’t.

Then there’s the world itself. Our crumbling economy and inflation that’s gotten so out of hand we’re barely keeping afloat. I can’t even afford to put lights on the christmas tree that was gifted to us this year. It’s my sons first christmas and I cant buy him the things I want to.  The tags on my car are years out of date and I have an outstanding ticket from it that if I Got pulled over again I’d be arrested.  My license is expired and I can’t renew it without paying for the car which means I can’t fly to chicago for my best friends wedding next fall.  I don’t have enough money to pay my bills each month as it is. How can I save hundreds of dollars for the car and a license. And why the fuck was I so stupid two years ago and let it go ignored? I was only out of work for three weeks. I could very well have handled it then and I didn’t.  I’m 27 years old and I’ve amounted to nothing I wanted to. I work part time in a coffee shop and I don’t know anything different. If I work full time, all my extra money would go to childcare and negate the entire point of working more. I Literally can’t win for losing. I dropped out of college twice because of finances and an inability to cope with life. I want to go back so bad it hurts. I want to be the first, and likely only one of us siblings to obtain a degree. I want to do it for myself.  For my son. I need to. I need to accomplish this thing to know it can be done. I need to check it off my bucket list if only for spite because there was a time I didn’t think i’d even live to get my diploma....why stop there? The ultimate fuck you is a life lived and lived well. I’m just tired and tired of everything and I hate that I can’t stop thinking even for a second.

Make it fcking stop.

[dzpenumbra]

6/5/23

I have a doctor's appointment at 1 PM tomorrow, so I kinda have to do this quick. It's just a physical, hopefully nothing comes of it. I honestly don't really know whether it's worth bringing up mental health shit with them, which seems to be the big issue right now.

I was a bit frustrated this morning, waking up. This whole... no one being able to help me thing. Since I was very young, I had my mom taking me to doctors to figure out what's wrong with me. And, somehow... there was never really an answer... hmm... weird, right? See, in my experience of life, this was very normal. I never questioned the idea of being ferried across state lines as a teenager for scans and procedures and shit as being... abnormal. Even though... it didn't happen to anyone else I knew... even my own brothers... It just never really occurred for me to question that, you know?

That's the insidious part about really difficult things - I don't really know how to word that, honestly... I'm struggling with accurate phrasing. I guess trauma? But like... family shit? And just... environmental shit, you know? Like... how I was talking about how people respond to a cat wanting to play by assuming the cat is being "a dick" or "angry" or something, because they were taught that's what it means, and then shutting it out of the bedroom permanently. You get used to that, it becomes normalized, and you just... never question it. When a cat attacks you, that's what's happening. You already have the answer to that, there's no need to question it.

So... like... me going to doctors is hard. Because there's a really long history there. But also, what I was wrestling with this morning... being told "we can't help you" is super hard. Like... point me in the fucking direction of someone who can, do something! I can't even count how many times I was just told "sorry, can't help you, good luck" and sent off to kick fucking rocks. Doctors. Therapists. "Life Coaches". Vocational Rehabilitation. All the same.

So... again, not sure if it's worth even mentioning that I've really been struggling with anxiety and depression... and PTSD... and grief... and, to be blunt... since I've been shying away from the word a lot lately... agoraphobia. There is definitely phobia attached to me not leaving my apartment, that's indisputable. My therapist and I are addressing all of it, but the plan is... insanely slow-moving, and kinda feels like... Okay. The plan is basically, as far as I can tell, to teach me some skills to try to repair my own self-confidence and self-esteem, and to maintain them properly... so that I can... Get out there and start from scratch. Meet friends, make professional connections, live life. How to do that? Where to go? Who to meet? No fucking clue. Just gonna sit here in my apartment and keep making art and chant to myself nice positive things 5 times a day until I finally get a giant spike of confidence, then I'll... be talked out of going to do something to move my life forward because it might overwhelm me.

Bah. Idk. See, all this over the simple thought: "should I bring up my mental health struggles with my doctor?" The only way he can help is meds and honestly? I do not want to be walking back from the pharmacy through a... what I consider a bad neighborhood... with a fucking controlled substance in my pocket. And I really don't think they're gonna let anyone deliver that shit to my door. And honestly, with how hard it was to get off these things, I really don't feel comfortable voluntarily getting back on them. I don't know, I flip-flop on the idea a lot.

I had this issue with meds when I was on them... the idea of missing a dose or not being able to get a prescription refilled - which happened way too often for comfort - ended up creating more anxiety and stress than not having them. By that I mean... the meds helped reduce how much of that everyday stress and anxiety I felt, but what they don't tell you is that just because you don't feel anxiety and stress, doesn't mean you're not experiencing it. Just because you're anesthetized doesn't mean your body isn't registering pain or damage caused from that, and it still takes a toll. So... I still experienced the everyday stress and anxiety, and the added stress and anxiety of med-related problems. "Did I take my meds?" "Did I miss a dose?" "Did I double-dose accidentally?" "Am I going to have to go into withdrawal because this pharmacy refuses to refill this prescription for whatever reason?" Shit like that.

So yeah. I guess I'm just trying to sort out whether it's even worth bringing up. Because I know for a fact that if I talk to the guy about this the way I'm talking right now? My real voice. The entire appointment will be about that, because I go on forever, and I likely won't leave with anything. That's why I usually let them take the lead and just answer whatever questions they have, unless it's like... urgent.

That said... if I can get prescriptions delivered? I'll have that conversation. It just seems unlikely to me that that's a thing.

Okay... here's thing of the day number 2. I got downstairs today and found my tomato plant... collapsed. It broke my heart. It was like... flopped over at a 90 degree angle. I was on the verge of tears, honestly. I have no idea what happened. It was very cold last night, and... I'm guessing windy? And I watered it last night... And then I wake up and the whole thing is collapsed. The main stem was bent, but not broken... So I scoured the apartment for something to use as a stake. I ended up settling on a plastic coat hanger, which I cut the big long straight section out of, and loosely tied the plant to the stake. And... it actually seems to have stood itself back up over the course of the day. I legit don't know if it's going to survive, but... I think it might! But god did that scare the shit out of me. Poor thing. I remember back when I had a legit raised bed garden and tons of tomato plants (my first garden, which I completely got myself in over my head with...) I had a ton of trellises that I used for the tomatoes. This kit that my brother got me, it's a cherry tomato plant, but it's grown in a big glass jar full of soil. They never once mentioned any kind of stake or trellis needed for this. Now... I'm debating getting something for the chili too. Just to be... proactive.

The good news that goes with that? And why I was so devastated... The tomato sprouted its first flower buds, they're still very very tiny but if the plant recovers well... the flowers should start before too long! And the philodendron cuttings are doing really well. Two of them are almost ready to be planted. I'm just debating whether I want to plant them separately or have them share the same pot. I'm guessing separately makes the most sense. My blackberry seeds have not germinated... unfortunately... I don't know if they still need time or not... but hell, it doesn't hurt to just give it time. So I'm thinking of just giving them another week or something and then if they still haven't sprouted, I'll toss some basil starters in there and get that going.

I'm very excited about being a plant-father. I did do the whole outdoor garden thing one summer with my ex (it was basically just me, tbh), but that felt much more... hands-off. I kinda just let them do their thing, and they did great, even got a bunch of watermelons out of the deal! ... Actually, now that I think about it, I think it was 2 summers. There was... lettuce, onions?, green beans, jalapenos, and a bunch of tomatoes the first year... no, it was broccoli, not onions. But the broccoli, idk what happened, I think bugs got to it. The second year I think was more lettuce, strawberries, cucumbers and watermelons. Hard to remember, it was a while ago.

I am much more... attentive to my plants now, I know them much better. And that is a very two-sided feeling. I love the adventure of getting really passionate about something new and diving into it - it's a huge part of my life, something I am constantly trying to do, always try new things, always learn, always grow - but the older I get, the more I feel that whole... beginner's shame thing. The clumsiness. Making avoidable mistakes. I felt so much more... immune to it when I was younger. Now... it's weird, it feels like a social expectation that if you're an adult, you aren't going to make beginner mistakes... at anything. My family is absolutely an extreme example of that, but I really do think it can just be put onto people by society. Like... I remember at the bagel shop I worked at... If a teenager fucked up, it was kinda expected. If someone over 40 fucked up? Like a simple mistake? It always felt like... "hey man, you should know better." And honestly, that's kinda bullshit on both sides. Don't assume that young people are inept. And engage with them if they make mistakes so that they can learn what happened and how to course correct. Don't just go, "ugh, dumb kid, I'll go fix your mistake, get out of my way." And with older people, don't just get mad if someone is new at something. You can't just magically know how to do things, this isn't the fucking Matrix.

Anyway, just mentioning that because I kinda felt that when the plant fell today. I just... I know it was just a fluke thing, but I kinda blamed myself. Like I should've known better. And I have been a bit reserved about propagating the succulents in fear that I might... "fuck up"... due to inexperience. But, thankfully, that feeling was actually motivating for me. I need to fuck up. I need to fuck up and see that it really is not the end of the world, and learn from that, and move forward. It's so goddamn important to do that. Not to be blind about it, or arrogant about it... like... don't go too far in that impulsive direction... but I need to push forward out of my whole "play it super safe" shit. It is the anti-anxiety. It's me being super scared and saying fuck it and dropping in on a quarterpipe when I haven't done that in over 14 years. I need that. Mini leaps of faith. They are so good for confidence. I just need to be okay with the fact that sometimes, I'm gonna fall, and that's okay. That's why we learn how to fall safely.

It's getting late, tarot time.

Past - XII: The Hanged One, inverted (Opportunity for new perspective, evolution through stillness and stagnation, evolution through sacrifice or loss. The interconnectedness of perspective and sacrifice, and the need to act on them for substantial change. Let go.) Present - XXI: The World, inverted (Dreams and passions being rewarded.  Newfound success.  Reaping what you have sown.) Future - VIII: Strength, inverted (Overcoming fear, mastery of emotions through equilibrium and inner strength.)

Another three inverted cards... XD Yay!!! This time, all Major Arcana cards. Let's dive in, this one doesn't seem... too complicated, at first glance.

The start of the thread is... a blockage or disorder/dysfunction in... finding a new perspective? Maybe being stuck in loss, or stillness? I was going to look for more guidance from other sources on this, but I'm just going to try to work it out myself. The concept of the Hanged One is... as far as I recall... at least in part a reference to a story about Odin, hanging himself upside-down from a great tree in order to... gain great insight and wisdom. It's a literal sacrifice made to elicit a metaphoric transformation, and a shift of perspective. A new way of seeing the world. One of great sacrifice, but the gift is worth the price, kinda thing. So... if that's not working... maybe I'm missing the message? Or haven't fully transformed yet?

That connects to The World, inverted. Which is... the big reward. The culmination of hopes and dreams, goals and aspirations. And... it's also stuck, or blocked, or... something's wrong with it, something's preventing it. Likely that transformation that hasn't finished.

That is connected to... Strength, inverted. Which is the embodiment of a symbiotic alliance between emotions and intellect. Harmony with your fear, an inner strength. Which... is blocked, or gone on the fritz, as well.

So, tl;dr... I'm missing something in my new perspective? A blind spot? Or I haven't finished transforming yet? And that is why my ambition is not paying off. Which, in turn, is causing fear to rule my life and my emotions to run rampant. So... what am I missing? What more do I need in order to transform? ... I drifted off in my head there for a bit realizing the silliness of grilling myself to find what blind spot I have. XD As though pressing harder will make me just magically see it!

Alright, I really need to get to bed. Fingers crossed I can get to sleep in a timely manner and this appointment goes well.

[lauracranna]

Hoping for the best, prepared for the worst and unsurprised by anything in between...

Day 49 of Imatinib. Hurtling towards the first CT scan which will reveal if this particular form of chemotherapy is working. How am I feeling? Well, it's difficult to answer that question. There are two sets of answers: the physical and the emotional. I'll start with the physical.

I haven't had the best start to treatment. Within a couple of days of taking the first tablet I caught that insanely horrific cold/flu/not covid that the world seems to have had over Christmas. I had a list of symptoms longer than my arm, starting with headaches, sore throat, cough and nausea and these have lasted until just a couple of days ago. Except for the nausea. That, I now suspect, is the side-effect of the Imatinib. It's mostly manageable as the anti-sickness tablets kick in quite quickly but it does mean that I have to spend around 30 minutes each morning dry heaving over the toilet or the sink. A few days ago I made the mistake of believing it was over and set off for work, only to find myself heaving in the car. Luckily, I was still on the estate and only doing about 20 mph. I just turned around and came home for a while until it settled. It did make me late for work though (late my by standards, as I like to be in work by a certain time and then anxiety kicks in if I'm not there when I want to be.) The other issue with the morning heaving, is that it is very similar to morning sickness. No big deal unless you're still coming to terms with the fact that you're baby making days are over. Every heave is a cruel reminder that I'll never be heaving again for positive reasons.

Which brings me to my emotional state. I'm not really as sure how to describe it. Sometimes I feel really positive, determined and completely certain that I'm going to get some good news in February. Then I have moments (some of them very long) where I just want to curl up in bed and never leave. Sleep is evasive a lot of the time. I either fall asleep really quickly because I'm exhausted but then wake up at around 3am with doom thoughts on my mind or I lie awake until around 3am with doom thoughts and then manage around 3 hours of broken sleep until the alarm goes off. Either way, I am mostly floating through the day at the minute, easily drifting off into daydreams, not really able to focus and finding myself frequently losing track of my sentence/using the wrong words for things. Not much of a problem unless you've got 30 students in front of you expecting you to know what you're talking about.

I've also become rather anti-social. It's not that I don't want to spend time with people - we had a lovely time with friends on New Year's Eve for example - I just find it difficult to communicate when I'm with people other than Iam. I've started to find small talk irritating and my mind just drifts back to cancer. I'm worried about bringing others into my doom thoughts so I'm opting for silence instead. I know I don't need to apologise for this - people keep telling me I'm doing great - but I can't help feeling bad for being miserable/ not myself. And then that just adds to the misery. So, if you ask me how I am, I might just give a simple "fine thanks" as a reply. Just know that I really appreciate you asking and I also appreciate anyone's efforts to talk to me about every day inane crap.

I'm not sure when the scan is but I know it will be within the next month or so. I'll blog again once I get the results. Keep everything crossed for shrinkage or complete obliteration.

[sincerepositivethings]

Issue One Hundred and Forty Seven

What's a song that you're always glad to hear but you've never owned or dug deeper into? For me, that's probably Stevie Wonder's "Superstition." It's perfect: that opening riff on the synth-y thing, the steady drum beat with perfect snare fills, and the horns. The HORNS. The brass section three separate iconic riffs in this song. (Don't believe me? To prove my point, I recorded this very low-effort clip of me impersonating three different horn riffs.) Okay. So then why haven't I listened to more Stevie Wonder? Instead I've just relied on the radio to occasionally play "I Just Called To Say I Love You" at me. Even better question, I subscribe to a streaming service: why haven't I ever played Talking Book, the 1972 album that spawned this perfect song? I guess I've just never had Spotify open and thought about "Superstition" at the same time. And the loss is all mine. The New York Times just published a look back at this album on its 50 year anniversary which details why it's not just a great album, but also why it is such an important one. You'll learn about how this album was on the forefront of synthesizers, utilizing an insane machine named TONTO (retronymed to mean The Original New Timbral Orchestra) and you'll also learn that synth-y thing I was talking about earlier is called a clavinet (It's from the 1940s and it's both electronic and uses strings. It's crazy.). So here's where I'm at: if you know "Talking Book," you've gotta read this article. If you don't know this album, you're wasting precious moments of your life. It's really, really good and it sounds like it was recorded yesterday. Get on this. Talking Book

The blankets in our house have slowly been thrown away for various reasons over the years until only one has remained. Then that one was adopted by the cat and you can't use a cat blanket. So after years of not having a blanket to throw over my legs on the couch, I once again have a warm flannel blanket from The Vermont Country Store and I forgot how good life could be. Just call me Linus Van Pelt because I'm a blanket guy now and I'm not going back. The link below will take you to my particular blanket, but let's not overthink this: The thesis is a simple one. Get a blanket this winter.

Happiness is a Warm Blanket

[ramseyesscom]

One Hundred and Forty-Seven

What's a song that you're always glad to hear but you've never owned or dug deeper into? For me, that's probably Stevie Wonder's "Superstition." It's perfect: that opening riff on the synth-y thing, the steady drum beat with perfect snare fills, and the horns. The HORNS. The brass section three separate iconic riffs in this song. (Don't believe me? To prove my point, I recorded this very low-effort clip of me impersonating three different horn riffs.) Okay. So then why haven't I listened to more Stevie Wonder? Instead I've just relied on the radio to occasionally play "I Just Called To Say I Love You" at me. Even better question, I subscribe to a streaming service: why haven't I ever played Talking Book, the 1972 album that spawned this perfect song? I guess I've just never had Spotify open and thought about "Superstition" at the same time. And the loss is all mine. The New York Times just published a look back at this album on its 50 year anniversary which details why it's not just a great album, but also why it is such an important one. You'll learn about how this album was on the forefront of synthesizers, utilizing an insane machine named TONTO (retronymed to mean The Original New Timbral Orchestra) and you'll also learn that synth-y thing I was talking about earlier is called a clavinet (It's from the 1940s and it's both electronic and uses strings. It's crazy.). So here's where I'm at: if you know "Talking Book," you've gotta read this article. If you don't know this album, you're wasting precious moments of your life. It's really, really good and it sounds like it was recorded yesterday. Get on this. Talking Book

The blankets in our house have slowly been thrown away for various reasons over the years until only one has remained. Then that one was adopted by the cat and you can't use a cat blanket. So after years of not having a blanket to throw over my legs on the couch, I once again have a warm flannel blanket from The Vermont Country Store and I forgot how good life could be. Just call me Linus Van Pelt because I'm a blanket guy now and I'm not going back. The link below will take you to my particular blanket, but let's not overthink this: The thesis is a simple one. Get a blanket this winter.

Happiness is a Warm Blanket