#40 lat

[lucy-shining-star]

Heh nie wiedziałam, że niektóre postacie z Rancza mają kanoniczną datę urodzenia. Niektóre sam rok a niektóre miesiąc i dzień. Wczoraj dopiero zajrzałam na polską wikipedię i się dowiedziałam. Anyway spiszę od najstarszego do najmłodszego:

Jan Japycz-1921

Paweł i Piotr Kozioł-2 czerwca 1962. W Lublinie

Kazimiera Solejuk-14 maja 1964. W Wilkowyjach

Arkadiusz Czerepach-1966

Jerry Smith-14 października 1970

Fabian Duda-13 grudnia 1984

[bigwishes]

Hope you're doing well. Just wanted to ask the genie for one wish... to swap bodies with my dumb sweaty bear of a roommate. We couldn't be more different, I'm a clean twink-ish comp sci major and I don't even know what he's majoring in cause all he does is eat, game, and work out. I complain about his lifestyle but secretly... I'm jealous. Jealous of how little he cares about grades or hygiene. Only caring about muscles and sports. I just want to know what it'd be like to be in his shoes for once even for a day. Then he'd be the one complaining to me about how much the house stinks and I'd be the one without a care in the world.

Took me a while to even see this one, but sure your wish is my command a big muscled sweaty bear who stinks? easy enough. first you start with your muscle mass, slowly pumping up, splitting through your shirt, growing more and more by the second, you can't help but flex and worship yourself as your muscles expand to freakish proportions.

its almost impossible for you to keep your hands off yourself as you moan in pleasure wanting more, to grow bigger, to get bigger,

soon a thick beard starts to grow from your jawline making you look like a beefed up lumberjack who works out non stop. A potent BO fills the room as your pits grow damp and start to stink, sweat drips down from them trailing your lats making you look like you just finished a workout.

You feel heavy trying to haul around your big muscular body, which doesnt help with the sweat, each step is an effort in itself causing you to sweat. You feel the fabric of your underwear strain and get wet around your groin and in between your ass as your body over produces sweat.

You begin to huff, each movement you perform leaving you out of breath. As you sit down the the couch to take a break you feel the cold wetness as the fabric absorbs your sweat.

A moment of peace passes as you try and catch your breath then your stomach growls. You do remember you wished to be a bear? six pack abs aren't very fitting.

You gut grows tight and you moan in pain as it growls, before long it starts to puff forward, looking bloated before shortly being covered in a layer of fat and hair.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP

you belch without warning, the powerful smell of protein feels the room and you look down to see the new you.

Big and Bulky are the words that best describe you now. A giant bodybuilder covered in a winter layer of fat, a true muscle bear.

Suddenly your door swings open as your roommate walks in. You expected to see the beast you'd gotten used to living with but instead a clean cut jock walked through the door carrying a pizza, protein shake and a box of chocolate muffins. You threw them down on the coffee table in front of you.

"got you what you asked for dude" instantly without saying thanks, your dove for the food alternating between shoving multiple slices of pizza in your mouth and chugging the protein shake, the shake dripped down the side of your lips and ran onto your chest.

"god how do you live like this you freak"

Hearing his words made your ears perk up, but not enough for you to stop eating.

"you are such a fucking slob dude"

You dick suddenly became hard hearing him insult you.

"and your fucking reek, jesus christ, you eat like a monster, stink like 40 gyms combined and have such a grotesque amount of muscle on your body"

Instantly you blew your load into your underwear hearing him talking about how much of a fucking slob you are.

You'd never felt so turned on, being so big, being so hungry, being humiliated by such a hot guy.

you had forgotten you even made a wish to begin with, and were ready to spend your life as a beasty bear.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

[petpenname]

❤️Red Wine Supernova❤️

pairing: dealer!ellie williams x introverted(f)reader cw. : smoking, drinking summary: modern college au, slow burn with some sad elements, inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chapel Roan Parts: 1. I Just Want to Get To Know You 2. Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots 3. I Don't Care That You're A Stoner + Epilogue: Falling Into Me a/n: bittersweet ending to my first fic 🥺

Part 3

I Don’t Care That You’re a Stoner

The following week was busy. On monday you started a class project worth 40% of your grade and the prep for it was drowning you. On top of your other classes you barely had time for yourself. Which is why you were actually looking forward to tonight. There was another party at House 09 and Sage promised to stay by your side and make tonight worth it. But a certain green eyed girl took up residence in your mind, refusing to vacate. 

On that Friday, in the late afternoon, you were sprawled across Sage’s bed, with her on the floor, passing a joint between you. 

“I don't know dude, we texted for a bit Sunday but I haven't heard from her all week. I didn't even see her in the cafe.” you sigh, pulling out your phone to check the message thread between you and Ellie again. 

“Damn, but she kissed you right?” Sage says from the floor. “That's so weird, maybe she's just busy with school?”

“Yeah maybe, I don't even know what she studies. She's kind of a nerd though, it's cute. She wanted to watch this space movie together.” 

“You should totally invite her over this weekend!” Sage says sitting up right. “Oh my god it would be so cute! And I could buy from her, I'm running low” She giggles, looking down at her close to empty stash jar. 

“You know what, ya! I'm going to text her. I kept waiting for her to text first, I just didn't want to bother her.”

“You aren't going to bother her! Send the text” Sage smiles at you, and puts out the rest of the joint before standing to stretch. 

You organize a text after a few tries: 

Hey Ellie! Want to come over Hiii, when do you want to watch that movie? My place, this weekend. You. me. Space movie y/n: hey ellie hope u r well! Want to watch that movie at my place this weekend?

“Okay I sent it!” you say chucking your phone away from you.

“Good job!” Sage says, giving you a thumbs up. “Now let's start getting ready!”

You shower and do your makeup in Sage’s room with the rest of the girls. Sage had the biggest space and the best lighting which made it the prime spot for your roommates to get ready together. 

Phoebe and Ivy are discussing recent events from a class they share and the drama that went down between a few students. You try your best to focus and be in the moment but each second that goes by without a response makes your heart sink. Memories of the previous weekend flash in your mind. The taste on your lips left by the auburn haired girl disappeared too soon, leaving you wanting more. You didn't want to come on too strong, too forward, worried you would scare Ellie off when you didn't even know what she wanted. You check your phone again, your message was delivered, but not read. Your heart falls a little lower.

“Hellooooooo, y/n” you tune into Olivia's voice calling to you. “You okay? You've been quiet, more than usual” 

“Hmm? ya , sorry, I'm good! I just haven't heard from Ellie all week.” You say with a shrug. You never liked putting your hurt onto others, choosing to brush it off and face it on the inside than over share. 

“Maybe she will be at the party tonight!” Ivy suggests. “Arent her and Dina roommates? And Dina is dating Jessie right? If you see them you could ask them about her?”

“Oh maybe.” The thought of that made your stomach flip. You had never talked to Dina or Jessie and you definitely didn't want to seem like a crazy lover girl. “We will see, can you pass me that eyeshadow Pheebs?”

“Here ya go babe!” Phoebe hands you a green shimmer shade that looks oddly familiar… 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later you and Sage are side by side facing down two of the H09 guys in a competitive game of beer pong. Sage and you are surprisingly winning and both are on a high -figuratively and literally. You were actually having a really fun time. You’ve been nursing a hard seltzer since you got there but had indulged with Sage in a few seshes. 

“OHH FUCK YA!” Sage exclaims, landing another shot in a red solo cup.

“Drink up guys!” You say, backing up your roommate's excitement.

“Oh don’t sound so excited! It's my turn next” Says a very confident resident, you think his name is Cole? 

And Cole was right. He ends up sinking each and every one of your remaining cups, securing the boys a win. They celebrate and you all exchange good games.

“Damn dude! You want to redeem ourselves?” Sage says, turning to you with fire in her eyes.

“I'm down in a sec! Gotta go to the bathroom.” You say. “I'll be right back!” 

You leave Sage and navigate through the house. You have to pass through the kitchen and a hallway to get to the bathroom. You move slowly, shifting around drunk bodies left and right. As you pass through the hallway your attention is drawn into the living room where people are dancing. Your eyes land on a familiar figure facing away from you. Tall and lean with her hair half tied up, for some reason you just knew it was Ellie, and it stopped you in your tracks. A rush went through you, she was here! She really was just busy! You start to move towards her until your eyes fall upon someone else. Ellie was talking to a girl in front of her, although you couldn't hear the conversation over the music. The girl had this look in her eye that you recognize all too well. She was swaying back and forth and just the nature of her demeanor told you she was flirting. You were confused, but unable to form a thought long enough before the girl moved her arms to wrap around Ellie’s neck pulling her closer. 

You turn away. Ears ringing, your vision tunneled, you could assume what happened next. Your feet moved without warning, your mind instantly dissociating. You left. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the fuck get off!” Ellie says loudly, pushing off the girl's arms around her. 

“Aww come on don’t be like that El!”

“You said you wanted to buy Cat. You know we’re fucking done.”

“God, ya, my friend did. Whatever, you don't know what you're missing.” 

“Oh I know, lose my number.” 

Ellie storms away, she needs a shot, something to shed the feeling of her ex on her. She had just gotten back to Jackson a few hours ago. Having to go home for a week left many buyers dry so she had her work cut out for her at this party. She just didn’t realize her ex would be here. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ivy! Ivy, where are you?” Sage shouts through the house, appearing in the kitchen.

“Shit Dude! right here! What?” Ivy sat on the counter, Phoebe next to her cutting limes. 

“Guys have you seen y/n? She said she was going to the bathroom but that was like twenty minutes ago!” Sage looks at her roommates worried.

“Nope, haven't seen her, maybe she just went home?” Phoebe suggests

“She usually does, I'm sure she's fine!” Ivy reassures.

“I don't know guys, she would have texted us! Oh, Ellie!” Sage catches Ellie as she comes in from a sesh in the backyard.

“Hey Sage, you want tobuy–”

“Have you seen y/n??” Sage practically yells at Ellie. 

“What? She’s here?” Ellie looks around in anticipation. You had been on her mind all week. But with other stressful matters at hand she couldn't bring herself to text you when she wasn't feeling her best. Something you two had in common. 

“I mean she was! But i can’t find her and she hasn't texted me, and-” “Wait dont you have her location?” Ivy says through a mouthful of chips

“Oh shit ya!” Sage flicks to your contact, pulling up your location which pings close by, right in…

“The forest? What the fuck is she doing in there?” Sage exclaims, turning the phone to show the girls. “Oh my god what the hell i don't even know how to get over there!” 

“Oh fuck,” Ellie says. “I know where she is.” Pheobe, Ivy and Sage all look at Ellie, with equally confused ‘you do?’ looks on their faces. “Do you know why she would be out there?”

“She might have wanted some peace? I'll go get her, I showed her the way.” Ellie says, turning to leave. She felt protective over you, she had no idea why you were out there but she knew she had to get to you.

“Want us to come?” Sage says, moving with Ellie

“Nah it's okay, I need to talk to her anyway… uh i'll text you when I find her okay?” Ellie says, reassuring Sage. 

“Okay you fucking better Williams” Sage says before letting Ellie run out the house. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cold from the concrete crept up your thighs while the liquor burned in your throat. You didn't know how long you had been out here but tears pooled stains on your jeans and a half drunk bottle of tequila kept you company. You must have grabbed it on your way out. You weren't sure, you weren’t focusing on anything right now in attempts to keep images of arms wrapped around her strong frame out of your mind. Only the sound of your sniffles and the creek beneath you rang through the forest. 

*Crack*

You instantly perked up, attention drawn. Through the buzz your mind formed a realization. You were out in these woods alone, at night, and more than under the influence. 

*crack*CRACK*

You stand up, almost tripping, straining your eyes to see in the darkness for any sign of movement. Your eyes catch light fumbling through the brush, a flashlight?

The light gets closer and you hear footsteps over the soft ground. “y/n? Are you over here?”

A voice you longed to hear, a siren in the night, it caught you off guard and you were silent for a second before speaking.

“El.. Ellie?” You say between sniffles and hiccups” 

  “Oh my god, y/n! Thank god, everyone was looking for you… hey what's wrong?” Ellie approaches you, noticing the bottle of liquor in your hands, your unstable movements and the tears drawing mascara down your cheeks. 

Arms wrap around Ellies neck in your mind, you see her kissing another girl, your heart ignites on fire. 

“No. no i'm fine. I was just leaving.” You say trying to compose yourself. You suddenly felt embarrassed of your state, not wanting Ellie to see you like this and in no mood to talk to her. You take a step forward trying to move around Ellie but end up tripping, falling right into her.

“Hey how much have you had to drink? We should get you home.” Ellie stabilizes you, then pulls your chin up so you're looking at her. “Why are you crying baby?”

You jerk your head away from her hand, the liquor fueling a wound within you that too many have deepend. “I-donneed to tell u anythin! *hiccup* Why don’t you jus go back tothe party? Just leave me be like they all do.” You turn away from her, taking another swig of liquor. 

Ellie grabs the bottle from your lips, “i don't think you need any more of that come on you're not making any sense.”

“OH i'm not making sense? What about you!?” Your last conscious brain cells form a coherent thought as everything you wanted to say comes out at once. 

“I thought you were so sweet when you brought me here and kissed me but then you didn’t talk to me all week and when i do see you you’re kissing some other girl and i don even know why i try anymore-”

“Wait, wait what” Ellie tries to slow your ramble.

“because no one actually wants to be with me-”

“Y/N!” Ellie shouts. Not angrily, more stern, but it shuts you up.

“I haven't kissed anyone tonight, what are you talking about?” Ellie looks genuinely confused, and worried at your sudden outburst. 

“Don lie! I saw you with that girl in the living room. She had her hands all over you.” You couldn't bring yourself to look her in the eyes, as tears started flowing again. 

“Oh my.. fuck..” shes says under her breath. Ellie was pissed off at her ex for causing her more problems. “Y/N, listen to me. That was my ex, she told me she wanted to buy but I should have known better. I pushed her off of me and definitely didn't kiss her. Trust me I have no intentions on getting back with her.”

Your mind takes a second to process this information, through sniffles and tears you come to realize what Ellie is saying. “Oh my god,... im so fucking stupid” you say, bending down into a small ball. Now you really just wanted to disappear. You hadn't talked to this girl for more than three days and you were already making assumptions and being heartbroken over nothing?!

“Hey no you’re not!” Ellie crouches down next to you, rubbing your back. “I'm sorry you had to see that, I wish I knew you would have been there tonight, we could have gone together.” “You could have texted me back…” you say, collecting yourself a little more.

“I know.. I know I should have. I'm sorry, I was just dealing with a lot this week and I honestly didn't expect you to be here tonight. I just wanted to sell and go home.”

You stay silent, not really knowing how to move forward with the conversation. You were uncomfortable sharing so much emotion to someone you just met but at the same time you wanted to be close to Ellie. A shiver goes down your spine, and your teeth chatter a bit as a breeze blows by.

“You cold hun? Here take my jacket” Ellie stands, removing her hoodie and putting it around you. “Why don’t we go back to the house? We could just talk and sit for a bit? Warm up?” You nod, accepting Ellies hand to help you up and guide you out of the forest. On the walk back Ellie texts Sage that she found you, letting her know she's bringing you home and staying with you for a bit.

You walk back in silence, hand in hand, tension brewing as you and Ellie both run circles in each other's minds. You unlock the door to your house and let Ellie in. Too faded to care that much you lead her up the stairs and into your room. You toss your bag and shoes in the corner, grab your blanket and wrap yourself in it before sitting on your bed, back against the wall. Facing a very awkward Ellie, standing in one place looking everywhere but you. She didn't exactly expect to be in your room tonight. 

“Can you take your shoes off?” You ask, breaking the silence. “You can also come sit over here if you want.” you pat the space on the bed next to you. 

“Ohshitya! Sorry…” Ellie says, fumbling to take her shoes and jacket off. It takes her a sec to untie her dirty converse, she slips them off, crosses the room then settles herself down next to you. You are both a jumble of nerves and anxieties colliding together as you speak over each other. 

“So-” ellie starts

“I Invited-” you say

“Oh, shit”

“No sorry- you go ahead”

Ellie takes a breath. “I'm sorry I didn't text you this week. I had to go back home, my dad got hurt and needed someone to watch over him.”

“Oh, shit is he okay?” You say, cursing yourself for thinking worse of the poor girl.

“Yeah! Yeah he’s good now, had to go to the hospital but he's feeling a lot better.” Ellie says, a smile of relief on her face.

“That's good, I'm glad to hear Ellie.” You take a moment to formulate your thoughts before continuing. “I'm sorry for being a lot… I didn't mean to scare anyone.  I just, well I wasn't thinking really..”

“Hey, it's okay.” Ellie moves to put a hand on your leg, “you're not a lot, and plus, i can handle it.” She winks at you, lightening the mood a little, allowing you to stifle a laugh.

“So does this mean you accept my movie invite?.” you ask.

“Well I'm already here huh babe?” Ellie says, rubbing circles on your thigh.

You look down at her hand. You loved it when she called you those names but you still didn't know where you were at with her. 

“Ellie?” 

“Yeah?”

“What are we?” 

A beat goes by and Ellie gives you a funny look before you realize how cringey you must have sounded.

“Oh fuck did i really just say that? God we do not have to have the "what are we" conversation, forget I said anything.” you cover your face in embarrassment. 

Ellie laughs, your embarrassment even cuter to her because of the context. “I dont know y/n what do you want us to be?”

You pause for a moment before peaking out from behind your hands. Ellie is looking at you with such a sweet expression, you can see the love in her eyes. Your ears get hot and your face gets red, forcing you back behind your arm-wall of protection. “Oh god,” you sigh at yourself for getting you into this. Which is exactly where you wanted to be really - Ellie Williams is in your BED!!! Why was it so hard to face what you wanted? 

“You know…” Ellie says. “I was going to wait until it was like an appropriate time but it seems you forced my hand” she teases. “y/n?”

“Hmmm?” you say from your cocoon

“Will you look at me, pretty girl?”

Your stomach flips and despite the heat rising in your body you will yourself to look at Ellie.

Eye contact that could last a lifetime. You flick back and forth between her eyes, taking in her whole appearance. Your room was lit with a few lamps and salt lamps casting an orange hue on the both of you. You were inches away from each other, the energy swirling between you, anticipating connection. 

 “y/n, would you like to be my girlfriend?” Ellie asks, holding her breath and searching for a response.

You blink, forcing your mind to make quick understanding of her ask.

“Girlfriend?” you say, half in shock, half making sure you heard her right.

“Girlfriend.” Ellie says, bringing her hand to your cheek.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aw shit wait!” Ellie pauses the movie right before the opening credits start.

“Babeeee come on! What did you forget now?”

“Y/n, i am so sorry, but there is no way I can watch a movie about space without being in space.” You both laugh at her stupid joke.

“Ellie, I don't care that you’re a stoner. You just have to share! Girlfriend rules!” You say jumping up from the bed.

“My girl always smokes for free,” Ellie says, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you in between her legs to kiss you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue

Falling Into Me

“I found the umbrella!” Ivy shouts into the house

“Okay I got sunscreen, towels, uhh food, water, weed hehe” Sage is standing by the door surveying the group's bags.

“We’ll start packing the cars” Phoebe says, Daniel next to her grabbing the cooler.

“y/n! Ellie! Let's go!” Olivia yells up the stairs. 

—--------------

“How do I look babe?”

“Holy shiit….” Ellie turns around to look at you modeling a new bathing suit. You’re in your room, the sun illuminating your frame and dancing in Ellie's eyes. “I need you… like right now”

You hear Olivia call up the stairs. “Well you gotta wait, you'll just have to eye fuck me all day.” you say with a giggle. The way that Ellie appreciates you in every way has made your confidence skyrocket. You had come out of your shell to her more in the past two months than you have with anyone. It wasn't surprising though. Sage had said with the way that you two look at eachother, it's like you had been searching your whole lives and finally found each other.  

“Fuck youre such a tease” Ellie says grabbing at you with needy hands and soft kisses on your neck.

“Mmm common Ellie we gotta go-AA!” You feel sharp fangs in place of her kisses. Ellie bites you a little harder than she thought, pulling away with the goofiest grin, looking so proud of herself. 

“Did you just put your canine teeth in the side of my neck!?” You ask, looking at her in shock.

“Yep!” Ellie says, still smiling, she grabs your chin and tilts your head so she can see her dirty work. “Oh shit..” Ellies face turns to shock as she tries not to laugh, amused with herself.

“Babe.. whaaat” You say, releasing from her grasp and going over to your mirror. There on the side of your neck you see small indents in your skin from where she bit you. In the same reflection you see Ellie behind you, unable to control her laughter now at the situation. 

“I marked you babe!” She laughs, standing in the sunlight, wearing a pair of swim trunks, an old t-shirt, bucket hat and crocks. Summer had come fast bringing heat and passion as your relationship with Ellie bloomed. 

You stood there half in shock, half in awe at your life now. Looking at the girl you were so happy to call yours. Memories of the past two months cycled through your mind. Your late night movie dates, studying in the cafe together, sitting at what you now consider ‘our spot’ in the woods, talking endlessly with each other. You turn back to your girl, lunging playfully at her, falling into her.

“You come here now! I have to mark you too!”

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

taglist: @vqxen @bready101 @sourgummywormsss @a-little-bit-of-everybody @shewantstoknow @liasxeatt @onlinelesbo

[panikea]

Dlaczego narcyz jest taki skuteczny? To kwestia naciśnięcia odpowiedniej kombinacji, przy której kobiety są bezbronne. Niezależnie od tego, czy mają 20, 30, 40 czy 50 lat. Taka kobieta myśli, że KTOŚ TAKI (i tutaj wstaw sobie, co chcesz: z kim rozmawia się do 4 rano, z kim jest takie porozumienie dusz, kto dostarczy takich emocji czy kto będzie miał TO WSZYSTKO NARAZ) – już się nie znajdzie. Do tego dochodzi ostry seks i koniecznie dużo obojętności, przeplatanej rzadkimi scenami jakiejś tam czułości. I kobieta wpatruje się w tego smartfona jak Bambi. To jest metoda trzymania kobiety na nieustającym głodzie, który powoduje, że chwyta ona z radością wszystko, co facet jej rzuci. Jest gotowa na każde skinienie.

Piotr C. z poradnika - Związki Instrukcja Obsługi

[mys3lflos3s]

! ANA PRO GRUPA !

grupa ta będzie przeznaczona tylko dla motylkow any, będzie ona w chuj toksyczna wiec ostrzegam, zglaszacie sie na wlasna odpowiedzialnosc. Na tej grupie nie ma zadnego glaskania po glowce, wszytscy jesteśmy ze soba szczerzy i jeśli ktoś wyśle swoje zdjecie figury i dostanie toksyczne komentarze i bedzie mial problem do reszty to wyrzucam go z grupy.

zasady:

musisz mieć 13 lat minimalnie

codziennie wysyłamy body checki i screena aplikacji do liczenia kalorii o 18:00, a weight checka o 8:00, jeśli tego nie zrobisz i nie napiszesz mi powodu, możesz zrobić to na drugi dzień ale jeśli drugiego dnia nie wyslesz to zostajesz wyrzucony z grupy

codziennie chociaz 15h postu

chociaż raz w tygodniu fast

od 18:00 nie jesz juz nic

codziennie chociaz 40 minut ćwiczeń (musisz wysłać dowód ze cwiczysz)

codziennie bedzie wyznaczona jedna osoba (tzw. dyżurny) ktora rano będzie wysyłać jakies th!nsp0 i motto na ten dzień .

nie ma owijania w bawelne i klamania, wszyscy sa SZCZERZY

jeśli nie schudniesz chociaz 2kg na tydzień/będziesz bingowal lub jak wyslesz body checka i będziesz ważyć nawet o 0.5kg więcej niz poprzedniego dnia, czeka cie kara wybrana przez reszte, bo grupa jest dla motylkow, nie dla osób ktore nie szanuja any i sie obzeraja

jesli ktos chce przejść na recovery nie probujemy go zniechęcić tylko wrecz przeciwnie, jest to toksyczna grupa dla motylkow, a jesli ktos chce z tego wyjść to musimy mu pomóc

nie wyzywamy nikogo za orientacje, wygląd, fryzurę, dokladniej za nic, co nie jest wagą lub wygladem ciała

nie oczekuj milych i kochanych osób na tej grupie, bedzie najbardziej toksyczna jaka moze być wiec jesli ci to nie pasuje to nie dołączaj bo robisz to na wlasna odpowiedzialność!!

NAJWAŻNIEJSZA ZASADA, nie robisz screenow grupy i to co jest na grupie, zostaje na grupie. jeśli dowiem sie, ze ktokolwiek spoza grupy o niej wie to zostajesz wyrzucony

kary:

binge

8 dni głodówki (musisz wysłać ss monitora glodowki)

codziennie 15tys kroków

codziennie spalone 1000 kcal

nie zmieszczenie sie w limicie

4 dni głodówki

codziennie 15 tys kroków

codziennie spalone 800 kcal

nie ćwiczenie (chyba ze masz powód i podasz go na pv)

2 dni glodowki

15 tys krokow

spalone 500 kcal

jeśli chcecie dołączyć piszcie na pv, czekam na zgloszenia

[zuuziia]

PIERWSZY POST

Hejka wszystkim!!! Nazywam się Zuzia i juz od dlugiegooo czasu siedzę w tej społeczności. Pomyślałam że dobrym pomysłem będzie założenie własnego bloga, abym była bardziej zmotywowana i żebym mogła się wygadać komuś kto by zrozumiał.

A tak aby ktos mógł mnie poznac to mam 16 lat i chodzę do 2lo na profil mat-fiz-chem. Uwielbiam chodzic na spacery i poznawac nowe miejsca. Mieszkam w Warszawie. UWIELBIAM słuchać muzyki, zwłaszcza lil peepa, billie eilish i crystal castles!!! Slucham tez podcastów kryminalnych.

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moja najwyzsza waga:~54kg

moja obecna waga(jak piszę tego posta):47.8kg (bmi:17.8)

moja wymarzona waga:35kg (bmi:13)

wzrost:164cm

gw:46->44->42->40->38->36->35(ugw)

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Chciałabym uprzedzic ze moje posty mogą zawierac temat samookaleczania, więc jeśli nie chcialbys/chcialabys o tym czytac to proszę nie śledź mojego bloga.

Dziękuję!!

[pozartaa]

06.11.24 UTRZYMANIE WAG.I dzień 614. Limit +/- 2100 kcal.

Wybrane posiłki:

Nie liczę kal. od: 119 dni

Kochani, dziś wstałam jak zwykle koło 5:00 postanowiłam zrobić porządek z kartami (w piątek wychodzi najnowszy dodatek i zaraz znowu będzie dużo do katalogowania). Posprzątałam w domu. Zrobiłam mini- zakupy na szybko. Generalnie - głównie się opierdzielam. Przygotowałam składniki na gulasz z dyni, kurczaka i jarmużu z książki kucharskiej "Wiedźmin. Oficjalna książka kucharska"

Dostałam ją rok temu na gwiazdkę od "małża" i to pierwszy przepis, który z niej robię... 🫣

Ale to dopiero jutro....

Nigdzie nie ma pieprzonego jarmużu kupiłam kapustę włoską. Tak to wygląda na obrazku, a zobaczymy jak wyjdzie moje... Zrobię wam kolejny kolaż "making of"

***

Później poszłam sobie pograć w Pokemon Go.

Wczoraj zadzwonił do mnie kolega, którego poznałam kiedyś na Pokemonach. Średnia wieku typowego pokemoniarza, który nadal gra teraz to 28-40 lat.

Ten kolega jest starszy ode mnie - wybierzcie sobie przedział - starszy rocznikowo, ale zdecydowanie nie mentalnie...

Więc wczoraj narąbany dzwonił do mnie po jakimś roku nie odzywania się (nie żeby to była jakaś znajomość, która chciałabym utrzymywać, bo to jeszcze z czasów kiedy wszystko było ostro zakrapiane alko) i płacze, że tata mu zmarł, że się zapuścił i że nie ma z kim pogadać. Ocho... No to mówię "Ok to wyjdźmy z domu, chodźmy na pokemony - pogadamy. Niestety już się z Tobą nie napije" ale coś czułam, że się wkręci z tego spotkania - bo ja szykowałam mu już opierdol....

No i poszłam sama. Było fajnie, choć zrobiło się bardzo zimno. Ja nie mogę patrzeć jak sobie ludzie niszczą życie - przez alkoh0l i otyłość... A jego otyłość sprawiła, że właściwie nie jest w stanie chodzić.

Wiecie jak z nami kiedyś grał - kiedy się łaziło od gymu do gymu i tak cały dzień?

Jeździł na wzmocnionym rowerze. Rowera już nie ma - połamał go...

Wszystko poszło do przodu, ludzie się zmienili, a on tkwi w tym swoim stanie takiego zdziecinnienia i pseudo-bezradnosci.

Nie mogę pomagać ludziom, którzy nie umieją włożyć w siebie troszkę pracy... Wiecie - ja czasami nie umiem współczuć. Współczucie jest gówno warte - wolałabym coś autentycznie zrobić 🤨.

Dobrej nocy wam życzę!

[melanirana]

Hi! If it's not a spoiler, I was curious about your ocean symphony fiasco Eclipse. What happened to his partner? I'm assuming he had one because he has children, Sun and Moon.

So, before I stat some context about me. I’m Autistic with a dash of ADHD and I really like animals and their biology.

Let’s talk this AU’s Mer biology and mating patterns.   

Mer are pack hunters and live in schools with up to 50 members. Solidary Mers are as rare as they are big, Mers tend to become solidary at a size of roughly 12 meters (39 ft.). The school dynamic of Mers is similar to that of Orcas, the school takes care of the young together. The school plays together, learns together, travels together and hunt together but not as “cruel” as Orcas, however, still efficient.

One difference between Orcas and Mers is the fact that there is no matriarch that leads the group but rather the oldest individual. This individual can either be male or female since both sexes are part of the school. Batchlor groups can from, both male and female, but don’t tend to last longer than two years.

If an individual is separated from its school or lost, they will sing a song unique to its school and its members would respond with the same song, this song is taught to the young very early on. A Mer could be on the other side of the Pacific Ocean and its school on the other, it would still find its way back.

If a Mer is ready to mate the male will separate from its school and find a coral reef where he would settle down and sings his song for a female to hear. Once a female hears his song and is interested, she also separates from her school. She will approach and or observe the Mer before deciding to mate with him or not. If the female decides to mate with the male, she will sing her own song back to him and the courting starts.

The courting process can lats up to a maximum of two months, in this time both mates will display their hunting, scavenging and overall survival skills. During this time, they will also establish an emotional connection through grooming, cuddling, conversations and singing in duets. All this happens before the actual mating.

The mating is just like that of seahorses. The female will develop an egg for a week, then lay the egg and hand it over to the male. From that point the females role in the mating process is finished. Once the egg is laid, she may stay with the male for a couple more days, which is not too common but after the egg is laid, she leaves and returns to her school.

It is highly unlikely that the same two Mers will meet again, whether that is to mate or just a random encounter. Which also helps broadening the genetic gene pool.  

Females do not contribute to the actual raising of their young, just like seahorses, they lay the egg and let the male take care of it, while she can mate again a few months after. That is the reason why Mers have an equally as fast reproduction rate as humans, balancing out the high death rate.

The male will return to his school once he received the egg and protect it. After 40 days the young will hatch. The entire school will help raise it, even the females of the school will help. The young will never meet their mother and they don’t need to, as everything important is thought to them by the school and their father.

Ther is a very rare phenomenon that has not yet been observed by humans and a rumor amongst Mers.

This phenomenon is Mers staying together after mating and raising their offspring together. This is extremely rare, even rarer than twins. In this chase the two Mer that meet to mate stay together and form their own school with their offspring and other young they adopt, that are either abandoned or lost their school/ father, forming a family unit.

Eclipse was lucky to meet his mate. At the time he finally decided to find a mate he was already the biggest, active, Mer at the time. This caused him some problems, manly every Mer was afraid of him because Mer his size tend to be cannibalistic. Another problem was to find somebody close to his size. As the biggest active, second biggest living, Mer that is going to be difficult.

But luckily for him he did find somebody, or rather she found him. This Mer was the sixed biggest living and the eleventh biggest overall. Still a bit smaller than him, length wise, only by a couple of feet and with a slimmer body type. The both of them clicked instantly, Eclipse being the calm goofball and her being the loud goofball.

The two stayed together for four months, which were filled with a lot of cuddles, kisses and goofing around. After Sun and Moons egg was laid their mother stayed with Eclipse for another week before she left. Neither of them wanted the other to leave but “it’s what Mers do” and they can’t go against what Mer are supposed to do.

So they separated. Eclipse had no school to return to and neither did she, so they returned to a live of solidarity. At least for Eclipse it didn’t last too long, as Sun and Moon soon hatched, and Eclipse devoted his live to them since. This allowed him to shove the feeling of loneliness he felt since his mate left to the back of his mind.

Sun and Moon are Eclipses only biological children but not his only children. It was not uncommon for Sun and Moon to leave for reef exploring as two little Mers and coming back as three little Mers. Or coming back as two little Mers and an abandon egg.

Eclipse never said no.

Hope I answered your question :D    

[mellev-bones]

!! TW: ed, sh !! Pamiętnik

Hej, jestem Mellev!! To mój pierwszy blog motylkowy na którym będę coś wstawiać ale moja przyjaźń z Aną trwa już około 2 lat <3 Co do wyglądu postu - inspiruje się innymi blogami motylkowymi które obserwuje [kocham estetyke motylków] ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦴 ꒱ Wzrost: 155 Aktualna waga: 47.3 [aktualizuje co 2 dni] ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦴 ꒱ ☆ [1] Gw: 45 kg bmi: 18.73 ☆ [2] Gw: 40 kg bmi: 16.65 ☆ [3] Gw: 35 kg bmi: 14.57 ☆ [4] Gw: 30 kg bmi: 12.49 ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦴 ꒱ Na moim blogu znajdziesz: ☆ Posty nie związane z aną ☆ Jedzeniowe polecajki ☆ Codzienne bilanse ☆ Body checki

[dawkacynizmu]

jestem w bardzo interesujscym psychicznym miejscu i zamiast nudno wam ventowac podam to w niezwiazanych ze soba punktach

1. od tygodnia ogladam ten sam odcinek criminal minds bo dowiedzialam sie w którym sezonie odejdzie jedna z moich ulubionych postaci i mimo ze jeszcze duzo mi zostalo do tego momentu to boje sie kontynuowac

2. chce mega obejrzec jakis film ale sie boje ze bede smutna po nim (po prostu, bo sie skonczyl)

3. moja matka zrobila mi i siostrze afere bo za krotko bylismy na cmenatarzu

4. caly czas slucham muzyki albo podkastow ale jakby w ogole ich nie slysze tzn. kiedy odcinek podkastu sie skonczy to nie mam pojecia o czym byl (lub nawet nie zauwazam ze wlaczyl sie kolejny) a jak slucham muzyki to nawet nie ogarniam jakies i w polowie piosenki zdaje sobie sprawe ze to np jakas sabrina carpenter XDDD

5. mam dziwna hiperfirsakcje na punkcie ogladanie recenzji filmowych i obejrzalam jedna po drugie wsxystkie recenzje filmow z kanalu "sfilmowani"

6. wczoraj napisalam 8000 slow opowiadania praktycznie na posiedzeniu

7. nie mam apetytu (ale tez mam ed wiec jakos mnie to nie martwi) i w ogole moje jedzenie wyglada tak ze nie chce mi sie jesc ale jak juz zjem to mam takie 10 minutowe okienko gdzie chce mi sie wpierdalac wszystko co istnieje a potem znowu sie nie chce

8. usunelam wszystkie media społecznościowe

9. mam dziwny tok myslowy ktory polega sie na tym ze kazda mysl konczy sie na skonczeniu jako bezrobotnu zyciowy nieudacznik cos na zasadzie

zgubilas sluchawke? - lol jestes taka nieporadna X nigdy nie gubi rzeczy - w ogole to ze swoja niezdarnoscia i brakiem social skills nie poradzisz sobie w pracy żadnej - bedziesz miezzkac z jebnieta matka w wieku 40 lat

10. moja srednia krokow to 1000 czyli tyle ile mam z samego chodzenia do kibla (duzo sikam i mam spory dom)

11. nie spie do poznych godzin w nocy bo nie chce aby sie zaczynal kolejny dzien

[i--want--to--be--your--drug]

" Chciałbym spotkać prostą dziewczynę, która będzie szczęśliwa, robiąc normalne, codzienne rzeczy. Chciałbym, żeby lubiła filmy, hamburgery, coca-colę i muzykę. Nie ożenię się, dopóki nie znajdę takiej dziewczyny, nawet gdyby miało to nastąpić, gdy będę miał 30, 40, a nawet 50 lat."

- Elvis Presley

260724

[ostra-nadwaga]

UWAGA!

Nie, nie poddałam się, nie zrezygnowałam z diety hsgd. Trafilam do szpitala.

Przed wczoraj koło 11 zaczal boleć mnie z prawej strony brzuch, myslalam że jajnik (mam PCOS), coś dziwnie mi było więc wzielam taxi do poradni kolo szpitala. W trasie, aż telepało mną z bólu, wysiadlam I nie dalam rady isc do przychodni, weszlam tylko do recepcji izby (przychodnia jest za izbą) I powiedzialam że źle się czuję. Potem krzyk, placz, zwijanie się z bólu, badania ginekologiczne w tym bólu to koszmar. Okazało się że nic mi nie jest, że trzeba karetką na szpital mnie przewieźć bo to coś innego niż sprawy ginekologiczne. Dali zastrzyki które nic nie pomogły, minęło z 40 minut i słyszę między swoim płaczem a krzykiem że jeszcze godzina oczekiwania... inna karetka się zjawiła zostawiając na izbie pacjentkę i mnie zabrali. Z bólu zaczelam wymiotować, nie miałam czym, nawet łyk wody powodował wymioty. Kolejne badania, kroplówki, godziny spędzone w tym cierpieniu. Dopiero tramal odjął lekko cierpienia, że już nie krzyczałam z bólu.

Po TK okazało się, że mam poważnie chorą nerkę, kamien w nerce który muszę urodzić (ten bol to była kolka nerwowa i podobno jest tak silny lub gorszy jak poród dziecka), dodatkowo mam zapalenie jelita grubego, chory przełyk, plyn w jamie brzusznej oraz część jednego płuca ma jakieś coś wloknisto niedodmowe - możliwe że się zapada.

Najlepsze jest to, że oni mnie w nocy wypisali, na drugi dzień obolała poszlam do innego szpitala, do lekarza który uznal że jestem zdrowa:)))

W piątek moja matka w innym mieście będzie szukać dla mnie pomocy.

Plus teoretycznie taki że mialam niemal 40h fasta a wczoraj jadlam 2 bułki kajzerki z masłem, 2 jogurty i kilka sucharkow, dodatkowo muszę pić jak najwięcej wody, 2.5 l minimum, najlepiej 3-4l (tak, pije tyle jak nigdy), oraz nie pale, po prostu uważam że zmarnowałam być może sobie zdrowie przez 11 lat palenia fajek... nigdy więcej.

I proszę aby każdy teraz zapisal się na badania kontrolne krwi, moczu itp. Ja pomimo tego, że kilka razy w roku badam się, chodzę po specjalistach do ktorych muszę nie miałam pojęcia, że z nerkami chociażby mam problem, a moglam zrobić po prostu badania moczu.

Co do diety - na te chwile jestem zmuszona zrezygnować z hsgd, zapewne dalej będę jeść do 1500-1600kcal (moje zapotrzebowanie to niemal 1000kcal więcej więc i tak będę chudnąć), dopóki nie ogarnę zdrowia.

Zdjęcie chwilę przed wypisem, gdy byłam w stanie jakkolwiek się poruszać pomimo cooaglego bólu i tak.

[smierc-sakralna]

13/10/2024

Czemu już teraz wstawiam „podsumowanie”? Nie wiem, każdy dłuższy post w sumie tak traktuje i też dlatego, że w dzisiejszym dniu jest on pierwszy (no i zamierzam opisać tu parę rzeczy).

Zaczne może od tego, że wczoraj przeleżałam calutki dzien w łóżku, jadłam, jadłam i jadłam i końca nie było, przez cały czas czegoś mi się chciało i myślałam że zwariuję. Zaczęłam mieć już nawet wyrzuty sumienia, czyli no nic nowego.

Pomijając wczorajszą sytuację z G. i tego, że po prostu poczułam się poniżona przez jej późniejszy post po tym jak wszędzie ją wywaliłam i zablokowałam na tumblr, bo źle się czułam przez to, jak zostałam potraktowana. Jednak nie będę robić z siebie ofiary, mimo że nawet nie wiem z czego wynikło to ghostowanie mnie przez ostatni czas, bo w końcu jeśli ktoś sie z kimś zadaje to wydaje mi sie, ze takimi informacjami się dzieli. Teraz mnie to już nie interesuje, pozbyłam się psychicznego balastu i jest mi lepiej. Jakkolwiek to brutalnie nie brzmi, bo przecież się lubiłyśmy, ale czy na pewno? No nie jestem tego pewna.

Generalnie wczoraj już miałam taki spadek nastroju, że niepotrzebnie weszłam na wagę by sie dodatkowo dobić w tym dniu. Prawie 66 kg na wadze nie dodało mi otuchy, no niestety.

Dzisiaj zaś zaczęłam dzień od zjedzenia dwóch twixów i kilku plasterków schabu, który wczorajszego dnia uwędzili moi rodzice na wsi u babci. I kłamać nie będę, byl przepyszny i ślini mi się buzia jak tylko o nim pomyślę.

M. przez 15h byl wczoraj na nogach w pracy, nawet nie zauwazylam, ze sie nie odzywał, bylam zbyt pochłonięta oglądaniem serii the foresta u Reziego. M też chwalił się swoją już prawie złożoną Barką Jabby (Star Wars).

Gadałam dziś rano z koleżanką, bo że widziałam jej snapy z chłopakiem, zobaczyłam, że byli w nowootwartym sklepie z merchem anime i innymi fajnymi itemami dla fandomiarzy. M. ostatnio nawet mi mówił że otwierają ten sklep i że jestem „animiarą” to moge iść tam złożyć CV, ale ja się wypierałam. 🫠 tzn. od kilku lat marzyłam o pracowaniu w sklepie z mangami i tego typu rzeczami, ale później jakoś mi to umknęło i stwierdziłam, że jednak nie chce. Miałam nawet plan w tamtym roku złożyć CV do sklepu YATTA bo bardzo chciałam tam pracować. Ale teraz mam lepszy pomysł, a że w galerii do której jeździmy z M. na spotkania właśnie otworzyli ten sklep Satori, to zabiorę go tam, zaciągnę go i będzie zmuszony pomoc mi wybierać Funko Popy albo jakieś inne fajne pierdolety do pokoju, może kupię następne części mangi Tokyo Ghoul, bo cala serię pierwsza mam (14 tomów) bo oczywiście udało mi się je dopaść za przystępną cenę na Vinted.👹 znając M. pewnie będzie mi miauczał, że znowu kupuję mangi i ich nie czytam. No ale będę, nie wiem o co mu chodzi 🙄 on dosłownie śpi w Star Warsowej świątyni-biblioteczce z książkami z całego tego uniwersum, gdzie większości nie przeczytał (tzn jakiegoś 40% może) a mądruje się że ja 14 mang nie przeczytałam 🫠

Tak jak mówiłam ostatnio, że jeśli do niedzieli nie uda mi się wejść do kibelka na dłuższą chwilę, to kupuję dulcobis i lecę na wspomaganiu. Ale to wczorajsze przejedzenie słodyczami pomogło mi, bo w końcu się udało i zeszło ze mnie 1.5 kg. To dobrze, bo znów czuję się lepiej. Straszne jest to, jak bardzo zależny jest mój nastrój od liczby na wadze.

Miejmy tylko nadzieję, że przetrwam dzisiejszy dzień bez obiadu, bo wolałabym nie psuć sobie tym humoru, który bądź co bądź i tak jest wisielczy.

[kostucha00]

14 kwietnia 2024, Niedziela🌷:

POST-TASIEMIEC ALERT!

Update'u z mojego życia ciąg dalszy!

Dostałam nowe leki na migrenę, na razie działają. W tym miesiącu miałam na razie tylko jeden dwudniowy atak, co jest całkiem niezłym wynikiem, bo bez nich dni migrenowych w miesiącu było średnio od 14 do 21. Wprowadziłam też dietę antymigrenową — w końcu. Wcześniej trochę się przed tym wzbraniałam, ale uznałam że frekwencja nie pozwoli mi na więcej nieobecności. Bałam się tej diety, bo wyklucza baaardzo dużo produktów: wszystkie sery, fermentowany nabiał, wędliny, wywary mięsne, owoce morza, soję, suszone i bardzo dojrzałe owoce, cytrusy, pomidory, czosnek, paprykę, banany, awokado, kapustę, szpinak, truskawki, ananasa, kiwi, cebulę, chilli, imbir, ocet, kakao, drożdże, zakwas chlebowy, glutaminian sodu, aspartam, czerwony barwnik, kofeinę, kiszonki i wszystkie orzechy z wyjątkiem migdałów. Także trochę tego jest. Jak się jest na recovery i to takim które nie idzie zbyt dobrze, taka restrykcyjna dieta mocno triggeruje i potrafi naprawdę siąść na psychikę. Na razie sobie radzę. Dieta polega na tym, że na tydzień odstawia się wszystkie te produkty, a potem wprowadza po jednym raz na trzy dni (wszystkie "przetestuję" do około połowy lipca) — jak dostanie się ataku, to pewnie przyczyną jest to konkretne jedzenie i trzeba go unikać. Na razie wprowadziłam już kofeinę (w rozsądnej ilości 300 mg dziennie nic mi nie było) i dzisiaj zaczęłam z bananami. Na razie jest okej. Bardziej mnie ta dieta irytuje niż wywołuje chęć Edziowego okultyzmu — to chyba dobry znak. Nawet jak czuję, że atak się zbliża, to wystarczy że wezmę kilka Ibupromów albo pójdę spać (bez leków, jak szłam spać z początkiem migreny oznaczało to, że kiedy się obudzę to przechylę się przez łóżko i zwymiotuję na podłogę z bólu — innej opcji nie było), więc leki w połączeniu z tą dietą przynoszą efekty.

Byłam też z Nicolasem u weterynarza, bo miał zapalenie ucha i na badania krwi, bo zaczął więcej pić. Ogólnie kosztowało mnie to 400 zł (a i tak miałam zniżkę po znajomości bo klinikę prowadzi kolega mojego taty z dzieciństwa) + i kilka minut kociego focha po każdym zakropleniu uszu (przynajmniej dopóki nie ogarnął że potem zawsze dostaje jeść). Zauważyłam że coś jest nie tak dość szybko, dzięki temu że po prostu dzielimy poduszkę i miałam niepowtarzalną okazję poczuć smrodek wydobywający się z jego uszu, poza tym zaczął się częściej drapać. Do weta trafiłam z nim na szczęście zanim zaczęło go boleć przynajmniej od środka, bo drapał się tak intensywnie że rozdrapywał sobie skórę przy uszach. Chciałam mu obciąć pazurki z tylnych łapek żeby nie zrobił sobie krzywdy, ale zaczynał mnie kopać xD.

Kolejna kwestia! Dzięki moim wspaniałym, wspierającym rodzicom zaczęłam się zastanawiać czy na pewno dostanę się na studia, a nawet jeśli, to czy nie wywalą mnie po pierwszym semestrze 🙂. Fajnie, co? Nie że coś, ale mogliby nie dissować mnie tylko dlatego, że chciałabym czegoś innego niż oni; zmęczonej życiem mamy-korposzczura z depresją i zespołem lęku uogólnionego albo taty-alkoholika po technikum mechanicznym, bez matury, bezrobotnego przez pół życia i rzucającego każdą pracę po roku. Chciałabym być szczęśliwa i spokojna, a nie mieć wciąż nawracające myśli, że życie jest bez sensu, skoro harujesz przez 40 lat w "porządnej pracy" której nienawidzisz, za psie pieniądze, a potem umierasz na zawał albo zbyt późno zdiagnozowanego raka bo twoje ciało nie wytrzymało takiej ilości stresu, a nie było cię stać żeby iść do lekarza prywatnie, podczas gdy na NFZ następny termin był za rok. A nawet jeśli żyjesz, to siedzisz całymi dniami w nieogrzewanym mieszkaniu, w którym światło zapalasz tylko do czytania, bo nie stać cię na prąd, i z którego wyściubiasz nos tylko na zakupy, bo szkoda ci wychodzić, skoro tyle płacisz za czynsz. Tak, taka jest moja wizja dorosłości i starości — przynajmniej takiej, jaka myślę że czeka moich rodziców, i jakiej chciałabym uniknąć. Chciałabym pójść na studia, na które będę chodzić z przyjemnością, a nie jak za karę i znaleźć taką pracę, żeby to nie był obowiązek, tylko przyjemność. I chciałabym być samowystarczalna, a nie — jak moi rodzice — polegać na rodzicach/teściowych, mieszkać w ich mieszkaniu i wisieć dziesiątki tysięcy, których nawet się nie ukrywa, że nie zamierza się oddać. I chciałabym nie czuć się samotna — ale ten problem już rozwiązałam adoptując Nicka i jego towarzystwo w pełni rekompensuje mi relacje międzyludzkie, czy raczej ich kompletny brak. Do tej pory nie poznałam nikogo z kim dogadywałabym się wystarczająco dobrze, żeby nawiązać jakąkolwiek relację koleżeńską, nie licząc katechety i historyka z liceum, ale czy da się to zakwalifikować do relacji? No nie wiem, już sama różnica wieku dodaje dziwności kiedy się o tym opowiada (jeden ma z 60 lat, drugiemu niedawno stuknęła 40-stka), ale nie zliczę ile razy spędziłam z którymś przerwę albo zostałam godzinę po lekcjach bo się zagadaliśmy. I wiem że to może dla niektórych brzmieć niezbyt dobrze — bo jak to tak, nastolatka urządza sobie pogaduszki z nauczycielami?! W dodatku z facetami?! — ale naprawdę nie ma w tym nic niewłaściwego. Łatwiej mi się z nimi rozmawia niż z ludźmi w moim wieku. Ci, których znam gadają ciągle o tym ile to ich rodzice nie mają pieniędzy (snoby zasrane), o imprezach, o randkach, związkach, znajomych, o celebrytach i ciągle plotkują (a ja nienawidzę plotek, bo sama wielokrotnie byłam ich ofiarą — i wciąż zdarza mi się być). Nie mam o czym z nimi rozmawiać. Mam nadzieję, że miałam do tej pory pecha do ludzi, bo jeśli nie, to boję się co to dla mnie znaczy. Przynależność do Klubu Seniora, bo gdzie indziej spotkam ludzi, z którymi znajdę wspólny język? Randki z ludźmi z pokolenia moich rodziców? Błagam, LITOŚCI. Oczywiście biorąc pod uwagę, że kiedykolwiek pójdę na jakąś randkę. Na razie się nie zapowiada (ludzie nie są zainteresowani mną, mnie nie obchodzą ani ludzie, ani wymagające relacje z nimi, a tym bardziej jakakolwiek fizyczna zażyłość; od trzymania za ręce, przez całowanie, aż po szeroko pojęte "coś więcej" — wszystko to mnie odrzuca, ale tylko ze względów sensorycznych. Gdybym nie miała czucia, chyba nie miałabym nic przeciwko. Powiedzmy, że jestem osobą do przytulania, ale nie za długo i na moich zasadach). Może jestem niedojrzała, a może boję się czegoś, czego nigdy nie doświadczyłam. A może po prostu coś jest ze mną nie tak.

Chyba trochę zgubiłam wątek. Rozgadałam się. Mówiłam o studiach. Rodzice mnie zniechęcają, sama zaczęłam się zastanawiać czy to na pewno dobry pomysł, ale to nie ma absolutnie żadnego znaczenia, bo nie mam innego planu. Koniec, kropka. Jadę. Kij wam w oko, skurczybyki. Ze mną nie ma tak łatwo.

Zastanawiam się nad odkupieniem samochodu od kuzynki — fiat 500 z 2008 roku za 13.000 zł. Na razie nie mam jeszcze nawet prawa jazdy i brakuje mi czterech tysięcy, ale może uda się namówić rodziców żeby sypnęli trochę grosza na kurs. Argumenty są po mojej stronie: "niepowtarzalna okazja", nic od nich nie dostałam ani na 18-stkę, ani na Boże Narodzenie, no i fajniej będzie zwiać z domu pierdząc im tłumikiem na odchodne niż ładować siebie, kota i marny dorobek swojego marnego życia do TLK, próbując nie spierdolić się z peronu na tory. Natomiast ich jedyny kontrargument to że nie mogę prowadzić, skoro mam ADHD (nie dociera do nich, że biorę na nie leki od ponad 11 miesięcy) i że młodzi prowadzą nierozważnie (kiedy przypomniałam im że to oni jeżdżą 80 km/h w terenie zabudowanym, podczas jazdy siedzą z nosem w telefonie: tata ogląda shorty na YouTubie, mama czyta artykuły — "ale tylko nagłówki!", i w dupie mają tak prozaiczne rzeczy jak sygnalizacja świetlna, i to ja jestem osobą, która się na nich drze, że prowadzą jakby prawa jazdy znaleźli w chipsach, zaczęli się burzyć, że jestem bezczelna). W każdym razie jeśli się zgodzą, to pójdę sobie do pracy na miesiąc do Burger Kinga (klientów mają z 10 razy mniej niż McDonald a płacą podobnie) i jak zdam prawko będę miała samochód, yay!

Na koniec wrzucam zdjęcie drzewa za oknem bo wiosna jest super i Nicolasa obczajającego lampę bo wygląda wtedy jak ślimak

To nie koniec update'u, po prostu wiem że zbyt długie posty nie są tak dokładnie czytane xD. Update vol. 3 już wkrótce!

[panikea]

Rozejrzyjcie się dookoła. Ile jest niby silnych kobiet, które są z facetami, którzy traktują je jak gówno, a one i tak w oczach mają płynny karmel? Ile razy powtarzają one przy przyjaciółkach, że nigdy więcej, a później są dostępne jak pizza na telefon? To kwestia naciśnięcia odpowiedniej kombinacji, przy której baby są bezbronne. Niezależnie od tego, czy mają 20, 30, 40 czy 50 lat. Taka dzida myśli, ze KTOŚ TAKI (i tutaj wstaw sobie, co chcesz: z kim się tak rozmawia do 4 rano, z kim jest takie porozumienie dusz, kto dostarczy takich emocji, czy kto będzie miał TO WSZYSTKO NARAZ) – już się nie znajdzie. Do tego dochodzi ostre rżnięcie i dużo obojętności, przeplatanej z rzadka scenami jakiejś tam czułości. I laska lampi się w tego smartfona, jak Bambi. To jest metoda trzymania kobiety na nieustającym głodzie, który powoduje, że łapie ona z radością wszystko, co facet jej rzuci. Jest gotowa na każde skinienie. Seks? Na zawołanie. Telefon o 3 rano: „Przyjedź”? Przyjedzie. Jest najebany jak szpadel? Ona odholuje go do łóżka, pocieszy, a rano będzie lodzik i rosół. On nie odezwie się przez dwa tygodnie? Ona będzie tęsknić, kurwić, wściekać się, a później mu wybaczy, gdy tylko on wyśle mesga: „Cześć”. BO PRZECIEŻ O NIEJ MYŚLI. Będzie nazywać się idiotką, ale podskakiwać wewnątrz z radości. Będzie pamiętać o jego urodzinach, o jego imieninach, Bożym Narodzeniu, Dniu Chłopaka, a w Dzień Bez Stanika (30 maja) wyśle mu swoje cycki. W tym samym czasie on będzie mówił do swoich kumpli (jeśli ich ma, oczywiście, bo mam wątpliwości): „Kobiety są takie głupie. Chciałbym być z jakąś normalną laską. Która traktowałaby mnie porządnie. Z którą można by było normalnie pogadać. Tęsknię za nowym życiem, za rozpoczęciem wszystkiego od początku. Za odcięciem się od tych głupich kur, które tylko dupy dawać potrafią, marudzą, płaczą i nie wiadomo czego chcą." - Piotr C. Związki Instrukcja Obsługi

[1hot-mess-express1]

Edward 40hands

A/N: Ayyyoooo, I've had this one in my drafts for a while, but I'm not sure if I like it or not (I definitely gave up a little there at the end). I want to practice writing some longer fics. So let if you like it! Likes, reblogs, and comments are super appreciated :) WC: 5.2K

Suguru X Reader (College, non-curse AU) High key based on "Edward 40 hands" by mom jeans

CW: Suggestive, Angst, drinking (of age), smoking cigarettes (both reader and Suguru), mentions of body shots, break up, Suguru's a lit major with my awful taste in books lmfao, tortured artist trope

PC: Yuannaoi on twt

The room is dark; smoke fills the air and invades your senses while you trudge through a seemingly endless sea of sweaty bodies. You’re not sure what the moisture clinging to your exposed skin is, but it’s probably better not to dwell on that thought. The music blaring through the speakers was nothing in comparison to the drunken screaming emanating from the patrons of today’s party. Your senses were overwhelmed in this cramped space as you slowly pushed your way into the kitchen. 

There were still partygoers perched on counters and crouched on the floor, donning plastic cups and drunken, lopsided smiles as they spoke in slurred phrases and empty promises, damp, sour breath clinging to the skin of one another. You push past a couple whispering sweet nothings to each other as you reach into the back of the freezer, behind the hot pockets and frozen pizzas, where you find a crisp, frost-covered bottle of high-west, just where you left it. You smirk to yourself before you feel a large hand with slender fingers clap down on your shoulder in a way that is all too familiar. 

“What’re ya doing here?” You turn to see Satoru with a drunken flush and a pretty blonde on his arm. His eyes are friendly, but his tone is laced with concern. 

You sigh, waving the frosty bottle in front of his face before uncorking it and throwing back a swig, “left this here n’wanted it back; this is Prisoner’s share, ya’know? Expensive stuff,” you state, grimacing slightly at the way the frost burns your fingers before swapping the bottle into the other hand. 

Satoru gives you a questioning look before glancing around the room; you know who he’s looking for. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here before he can throw a fit about me being here,” you offer Satoru a smile before pushing back into the swarm of people, trying to make your way to the back door. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, face crestfallen, watching the way you weave through the sea of strangers, arms tucked close to your chest. This wasn’t gonna go well. The blonde next to him startles him out of his trance. 

“Wanna do body shots?” Her finger reaches for his jaw, and he can’t help but perk up at the insinuation. All concern and foreboding feelings rush out of him before he gives her a cheeky grin, pulling her impossibly closer to him.

“Fuck yeah,” he turns on his heel, effectively forgetting about your presence and all of the tension you brought with you. 

You push your way to the sliding glass door, tucking the cold bottle under your arm before pushing your feet into the carpet and tugging with both hands, wiggling slightly to coax the door open. With a huff, it pops open, nearly causing you to topple over before you step onto the back patio. You should have known; there are people out here, too. You glance around, taking note of the people perched on the porch railing, half-consumed beers in hand, laughter floating out into the too-warm August air. 

You shuffle through your pockets in search of a lighter; instead, your fingers are met with loose change, a stray hair tie, and an empty straw wrapper, shit. You’d keep better track of your things one day, but until then, you let out a huff, eyes scanning the creaky wooden porch boards. Your eyes are greeted with empty cans and cups, leaking small amounts of sticky liquid onto the tarnished wood, and random pieces of clothing left to ruminate in this late August humidity, gross. Wandering over to the round table hanging on by a prayer, you see half-empty drinks, an overflowing ashtray, and chewed gum, but alas, no light. The condensation collecting along the glass bottle begins to dribble between your fingers as the humid air quickly warms the both of you. With a flick of the wrist, the whiskey slides its way down, setting a fire in your throat, your breath burning your nostrils on its way out. You set the bottle down and reach for the pack of smokes in your pocket, tenderly retrieving a cigarette and setting it between your lips before returning it to your pocket and the bottle to your hand as you wander further into the yard, searching for someone who might have a lighter. 

You notice the mud sticking to your shoes and make a note to throw them into the wash when you get home. In protest of your current predicament, you gingerly take the cigarette from between your lips and place it behind your ear before taking another swig of the amber liquid. You continue your trek through the yard, letting the cicada's song dance through your ears, nearly drowning out the sound of debauchery wafting from the house. The orange of the sun is dipping below the horizon, exploding with colors before retreating to make way for a vast sea of stars. If Suguru were here, he’d probably have something poetic to say about it, you chuckle a bit to yourself at the thought. 

There is a fire somewhere. The acrid smell of burning cedar wafts around your nose, bringing crinkles to the space between your brows as you look up silently at Suguru, wondering if he will move to acknowledge the smell--he never does. You pick lazily at the Gibson in your lap, only half paying attention as your gaze travels to Suguru’s face, lit up by the amber sun as it makes its descent under the horizon. Your feet are firmly planted on the shingles of this roof, your mind paying no attention to the way your body reacts to the danger of being up this high. Suguru’s body, on the other hand, is a picturesque view of serenity; his face is relaxed, jaw moving slightly as he unknowingly mouths the words to his book, forearms resting on his knees as his hair gently wafts around his face with the late summer breeze. His tongue poked out every so often, wetting the plush of his lips with a single slow stroke. You watch as his eyes lazily skim the pages of a book he’s read too many times to count. 

He must have felt your stare because he glances over at you and offers a lopsided grin, “Are you even paying attention anymore?” his eyes flit to where your fingers are plucking at the strings out of rhythm. 

“I’ll have you know that this raw talent doesn’t have to pay attention; my body acts on pure musical instinct,” you state through a cheeky smile, arching a single brow at him as he places the book down by his side. You glance fleetingly at the cover, ‘The Setting Sun,’ your brows furrow a little in thought before speaking, “Suguru, why do you always reread books? I know you could read something that small in a single sitting, smart enough to understand it the first time too,” your hand slips, plucking at the wrong chord, giving way to an eerie out of tune note. 

“That’s not how these kinds of books work,” he chuckles mostly to himself before continuing, a small fire dancing around those lavender eyes that signal the forthcoming explanation and the excitement it brings him to speak about it, “Dazai’s books are extremely pessimistic examinations of human nature poorly disguised as fiction; yes this story is about a war-torn family, but really this was his way of projecting his own hopelessness on the world, when you read something this emotionally charged it’s important to examine it from multiple viewpoints,” he glances down to see that your hand has stopped moving altogether as you suck your bottom lip in between your teeth, his gaze returns to your eyes and he speaks through a friendly smile, “for instance, my first read was blank, no real expectations, just getting to know the characters and setting and taking note of my reactions, the second time I’m trying to understand what the overall message of the book is, or examining the points made a little more closely,” you hum in understanding, setting your guitar to the side, before plucking the novel from its resting place, flipping through the pages until you find where he’s dog eared the book. 

“I must go on living. And, though it may be childish of me, I can't go on in simple compliance. From now on, I must struggle with the world. I thought that Mother might well be the last of those who can end their lives beautifully and sadly, struggling with no one, neither hating nor betraying anyone. In the world to come, there will be no room for such people. The dying are beautiful, but to live, to survive – those things somehow seem hideous and contaminated with blood.” you look up at him over the edge of the book, “thoughts?” you offer him a cheeky smile, waiting patiently for his reply. 

“A few, mostly I think it’s depressing, but you’re not really interested in what I have to say.” He lets out a sweet, breathy laugh before pulling you closer to him, tucked in perfectly to his side. His hand wraps around your shoulder as he places a chaste kiss on the top of your head. 

You reach into your pants pocket, retrieve a pack of cigarettes, wiggle one free, and place it between your lips. Staring off at the last sliver of daylight giving way to a navy sky, you pat down your pockets in search of a lighter. Your search is cut short when Suguru dangles the black piece of plastic in front of your eyes. 

“You should really keep better track of your things, yaknow?” he mutters his words into the juncture of your neck, brushing his lips against the warm skin; your hairs stand on end at the light tickling. 

“One day, but not today,” you take it from him, flicking the lighter and taking a deep breath, letting the cigarette flicker to life as the smell of a distant fire gives way to the rich smell of tobacco. Suguru shuffles himself to the side a little, trying his best to hide the way the smell makes his stomach turn. 

“M’sorry,” you mutter before putting some distance between you and turning to face him fully. You know what he’s about to say well before the words leave his mouth. 

“Those things’ll kill you, you know?” he says, trying to wear a teasing smile, knowing full well that his words will do little to deter you from your nasty habit. 

You roll your eyes playfully before changing the subject: “Do you think you’re going to take that internship?” You do your best to keep your voice neutral. Looking where the sun last hung in the sky, it was long gone, but you feared your eyes might betray you. 

He folds in on himself a bit at the statement, “I think so…” His voice trails off a bit before he glances in your direction, searching for a reaction. Your features are fairly neutral in spite of the way your stomach drops at his words. “Are you gonna take that deal?”

“Might as well; if you’re not here, I’ve got no reason to stay. I still need to talk it over with Shoko, though; I’m not sure she’s so keen on the idea of going with me…she’s a hell of a bass player, but she wants to be a doctor, yaknow? She doesn’t have the time to waste in the studio like I do.” You let out a small smile at your situation. 

“They’ll sign just you, and you know it,” Suguru says, pulling you a bit closer to himself. He ignores the way the smoke makes his eyes water and places a chaste kiss on the top of your head. 

The smell of second-hand smoke wafts your way, dragging your attention to the side of the house where someone is leaning against the side panels, book in hand. You take another drink before squinting at the figure, eyes bleary and head beginning to dizzy; stepping closer to them, you realize it’s the last person you wanted to see today. Of course, he’d be outside hiding from his own party, pretentious ass. As you inch closer, he looks up from his book, giving you the same inquisitive stare before dog-earring his page and tucking the book in the crook of his arm. Once you’re within arm’s reach, he places the cigarette between his lips, taking a long drag and letting the ash fall to the grass below him, eyes narrowing in on the bottle in your hand before he looks back up to your face, exhaling the smoke from his nose before speaking. 

“Really?” he tilts his head slightly, a small grin gracing his lips as he brings the cigarette back to his lips and turns to face you more directly. 

You do your best not to stare, but his hair is framing his face so perfectly, the veins in his hands are highlighted perfectly by the gentle hold he has on the cigarette perched between his lips, and god, his eyes, those stupidly perfect purple eyes, framed by long, dark lashes shine beautifully under the late August moon and draw you in like a moth to a porch light--blissfully unaware of that something so beautiful could be so dangerous. 

You steady your resolve before looking at him like he’s an idiot, “obviously, shit was expensive,” you mark your point by taking a much larger drink from the bottle before extending it to him. He gives you a pensive look before taking the bottle from your hand and bringing it to his own lips. You note the way his tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he takes a large drink, his Adams apples bobbing as the fluid makes its way down his throat. To your surprise, he keeps going, effectively chugging the whiskey as if it were water. “Hey, stop that!” you exclaim, reaching up with ardor to take the bottle from his grasp. When your small hand grasps the glass and pulls it away from him, the drink falls from the corner of his lips as he laughs through a cough, bringing his sleeve up to wipe the excess from his lips. “That was easily like fifty bucks right there,” you grumble mostly to yourself, wiping the outside of the bottle across your jeans. 

He looks up at you from his hunched-over position and grabs the cigarette from your ear, brushing his knuckles across your cheek as he does, waving it in your face, a goofy grin plastered on his face, a single eyebrow quirked up in question, “Need a light?”. Such an innocent question, but the lopsided grin he’s sporting and the intensity of his eyes leave you flustered in place for a moment longer than you’d like, listening to thrumming in your ears telling you to leave. Instead, you grab the cigarette from his hand indignantly, staring at the ground to cover the flush that threatens to creep across your face at his proximity, tapping the toe of your shoe into the grass, half in an attempt to free some of the mud accumulating and partially to have a reason not to look at him. 

“Yeah,” you mutter out before glancing up at him. When you do, he places the cigarette between your lips, he stands to his full height, making you feel incredibly small beneath him before he rummages through his pocket. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, Marb red, 100s to be exact, and you smile a little to yourself. “copy cat,” you giggle out, looking up at him as he places a cigarette between his lips, cupping the flame and taking a large inhale. He chuckles to himself a little at your statement before stepping impossibly closer to you with his lit cigarette. His hair falls around his face as he leans down, smirking around the cigarette perched between his pouty lips, waiting patiently for you to close the distance. He couldn’t be serious right now.

“Well? Ya gonna light that cig or what?” he speaks through the cigarette, his hair cascading down in front of him, the very tips of it tickling your collarbone. You roll your eyes before placing your hand around your cigarette, cradling it in place, letting your eyes flutter closed, touching the tip of your cigarette to his, breathing in deeply and relishing in the bitter-sweet taste of it as it makes its way to the bottom of your lungs. When you open your eyes, he’s staring at you with an unreadable expression, no hint of the smile that was present moments ago. His gaze pierces you in place as the low thrumming of life on the other side of the wall drifts into your consciousness. 

You shift nervously under his gaze, looking at the mud crusted to the tip of your shoe, “Since when do you smoke? Ya know those things will kill ya,” you mutter with all the playfulness you can muster before returning your gaze to him. You don’t miss the small smile that creeps over his hand as he takes another drag. 

“Got dumped by a beautiful girl, in case you didn’t know; I think it’s only natural to pick up a bad habit. Speaking of which, does Satoru know you’re here? I think you traumatized him last time he saw you,” Suguru says with some genuine concern etched into his brows. 

You chuckle a little at the statement feeling your brows knit together in guilt, “Yeah, he knows, definitely didn’t look too happy to see me, but he had pussy to chase, so you know how that goes,” Suguru chuckles at your response before bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “Besides, I wasn’t that bad. Promise, I could have been a lot worse,” you chuckle a little to yourself before bringing the bottle back to your lips and taking a healthy swig. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about tonight, but the world turns to spite you, it would seem. 

“I don’t doubt that, but he’s a pampered guy, yaknow? I highly doubt he’s ever seen a woman raise her voice before then, much less cause that much destruction,” he pulls the cigarette to his lips again, and you take notice of how close the ember is reaching to the butt and the way the mellow flame illuminates his features as he takes a shallow inhale.  

He was right; you may have gone a bit overboard. You don’t remember much of that night, to be completely honest; when you think back, most of it flies away in a haze of screaming and crying. You do remember throwing a dresser drawer in the general direction of Satoru though. Being the sweetheart pacifist that he is, he came up to try and quell the storming rage, but unfortunately, words evaded him, and he opened up with “chill out,” not a great thing to say to an angry woman. 

You straighten your stance as you pinch the ember out of your cigarette, stomping it into the grass, and toss the butt into your jacket pocket, a sweet habit that doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru. “Well, yaknow what they say? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” you scoff, staring as you swirl the liquid in your bottle, groaning internally at the realization that it is nearly empty before taking another swig, feeling your mind begin to slip away as your jaw unclenches and your vision blurs slightly. 

Suguru reaches for the bottle in your hands, bringing it to his lips and taking a large drink before he crouches down, leaning his head back on the worn wood of the house, looking up at you as if asking you to take a seat next to him. On slightly wobbly legs, you comply, leaving a healthy distance between you. You sit in silence for a moment, taking in the heavy thrum of bass emanating from the house, reminiscing on nights when you would sit out here with Suguru, a bottle between you and the comfortable quiet of the night save for the low hum of life seeping into the night air from the crowded house. You would sit beside him, relishing in the bitterness of a cigarette as he scolded you playfully for the nasty habit, making notes about the staining on your fingers and comparing them to the yellowed pages of a novel. He was always overly poetic like that, sickeningly good at making you feel like the main character of some period romance novel. That’s probably why it stung so bad when you found out he was leaving. Had he told you himself, lacing beautiful words about finding each other again or running away together like lovesick teenagers, maybe you would have been okay with it; maybe you would have chuckled even at his poet’s tongue before cradling his too-large face in your hand, peppering it with sweet kisses, hopeful for the future. 

Instead, you stared at a plane ticket, cold and alone, entirely too drunk to be in your right mind, with no sweet words to chase away the tears creeping to the corners of your eyes, no elaborate yearning confessions to replace the overwhelming weight in your chest. He was leaving, and he wasn’t even going to tell you; what’s worse, he lied to you. He laid you down in his bed, body pressed comfortably close to yours as he kissed the space between your ear and jaw as he whispered to you about how he belonged here with you, that he could never pass you up for anything because his heart was sure to reject anyone but you. That he couldn’t imagine a life for himself where he didn’t come home to you stretched out on the sofa in his worn out crewneck, his sweet cat wrapped comfortably on your chest as your little snores drift to his ears. He couldn’t wake without the sight of your hazy smile peering down at him, your sweet voice coaxing him back to the reality of his dreams. 

At least that’s what he had said; instead, you sit there on the worn carpet of his bedroom, studying the creases in the corner of the plane ticket. He had decided to leave and never intended to tell you. No possibility of running behind him and living in a shitty studio while he interned at the college, and you worked part-time at the cafe down the street, saving your change in a pickle jar to afford a better home. You would never hear him shuffle through the front door, kicking his black loafers off before unbuttoning the top of his shirt, striding over to your place at the kitchen sink, placing a single kiss on the crown of your head before telling you all about the students he worked with today, and way they groaned at the Dostoevsky reading today. Suguru would go on to describe the intricacies of his love for the droning author as you wiped the water off your hands with a tea towel, smiling at him with that same lovesick look your heart always held for him. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the flicking of a lighter, and you look over to see Suguru cupping the flame once again as his cigarette flickers to life. “When did you really pick up smoking, Suguru?” you spare a glance at whatever book he’s reading right now, Letters to Milena, typical. 

“When you left them at my place, they just kept staring at me from the nightstand. It wasn’t supposed to become a habit, but I think it pairs nicely with the whole tortured artist vibe, yaknow?” he chuckles to himself at his own lame joke. He takes a sharp inhale and stares off into the night sky for a moment before reaching for the bottle between you, taking a large drink, and offering the last of it to you. “I never meant to hurt you, yaknow?” he mutters out before taking another drag off of his smoke as if avoiding speaking, even if only for a moment. 

You don’t hesitate to finish the last of the bottle, relishing the fire that trails through your throat. “What is that supposed to mean?” you ask, leaning your head back against the wall, trying to straighten out your dizzy mind. 

He sucks in a deep breath, using his foot to toy with the grass. “I just didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to tell you; I tried to believe me, but every time…I just…choked, I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t say it out loud… made it all feel too real,” his voice cracks a little at the end like the memory of it all could break him. 

You look over at him, your confident facade crumbling as your voice betrays you, conveying much more than you ever wanted to say: “I didn’t expect you to stay, yaknow? A part of me was so excited for you. I know what this means to you…I just didn’t expect you of all people to lie to me,” you take in a deep breath. “I was also incredibly drunk,” you let out a half-hearted chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. 

He doesn’t smile; if anything, his frown only deepens before he moves to speak, “I didn’t lie to you, I’m not going…I’ve had too much time to think about it, and I don’t think I can leave you behind, even if it’s just the little things, like the hoodie hanging over my desk chair with cigarette hole burnt through the pocket or the pack of reds staring at me while I’m far too drunk to make any good decisions,” he looks over at you, moving his hand into the space between you, looking up at you through his heavy lashes, “or the chance that I’ll find you sneaking out the back door of my house, looking for a lighter” he laughs solemnly to himself at that last statement. Reaching into his pocket for yet another cigarette, placing it between his teeth and lighting it before handing the lit cigarette to you. 

You shuffle in place, lifting the cigarette to your lips, praying it will do anything to settle your uneasy heart, or maybe keep your head from spinning, laying your head back against the wall and letting your eyes flutter closed, “Those things’ll kill ya yaknow?” you mutter out, groaning lightly at the way the world turns behind your eyelids, before passing the cigarette back to him. 

“You’ll still kill me faster,” he chuckles a little at the thought, leaning on his outstretched hand, taking a drag off the cigarette and letting the smoke dissipate into the night. “I uh…I miss you a lot, and I’m sorry for all of it,” he states, turning to look at the space between you, studying the way your hand twitches lightly. The silence between you grows on him like a fungus threatening to stop his breathing altogether as he closes his eyes and lets the weight of what he said hang in the air. He was sure you didn't care that he missed you; an apology wasn’t going to erase what had happened between you; it wasn’t enough, but a small part of him wished it was. 

“So, what are you doing now? You didn’t leave; better be a damn good alternative here,” your voice is coated with a teasing tone, trying desperately to hide all of the emotions threatening to overtake your now hazy mind. You look over to see him staring holes into your hand, and as if on instinct, you place it haphazardly over his much larger one, enjoying the warmth radiating from his knuckles. Your gaze returns to the stars draping across the sky, taking mental note of how small you feel when gazing up at the vast, consuming black of the night sky. It was a morbidly comforting thought that none of this would matter one day. 

“Promise not to kill me?” he leans in a little closer to you, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as his thumb absentmindedly strokes the side of your hand, the pad of his finger calloused and warm. 

“Cross my heart,” you state, looking over at him again, realizing how close he’s gotten and studying the features of his face, the way his brows sag comfortably low, his eyelashes framing his warm eyes perfectly, his lips are pulled in a small grin, his collarbone peaking out of the black T-shirt, exposing the smallest bit of a tattoo creeping over his shoulder from his back, that you know all too well. 

His eyes linger on your lips as he begins to speak; he’s close enough now that when he does, you can see the hint of silver resting against his tongue, “I’ve started working on a book,” his eyes flash up to meet yours. 

“Mr. Responsible is writing a book and hoping it works out? That’s definitely not what I expected to hear.” You try your best to muster up a teasing tone, but the way he’s so close to you right now, looking at you like a man starved, twists your guts, and for a moment, you think your heart might stop beating then and there. 

He chuckles a bit, his gaze returning to your eyes, “It’s going well, thanks for asking,” he rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the grin stretching across his features as his hand returns to absentmindedly stroking yours, “besides it was a way to stay here, I already have an offer and they made a generous upfront payment after some back and forth nonsense that you don’t really care about,” his voice trails off a little at the end as he notices the way your eyes are scanning his lips, a cute drunken flush washed over your face as your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

Would it make him a bad person if he kissed you right now? He’s not sure and must not care because he’s quick to close the distance between you, placing a gentle kiss on the juncture of your mouth, letting himself linger there for a moment as he relishes the feeling. When he pulls back, he knows he’s a terrible person cause the sight of you with your wide eyes looking up at him through a soft pout, chest heaving slightly, tongue darting out to wet your lips--a very innocent reaction to a very innocent act-- makes him ache to devour you. 

“Wh-why would you do that?” your brows knit together in confusion for a moment before his lips are on you again, first at your lips, then just below your ear as he whispers to you.

“Let me tell you I’m sorry…please?”

Oh fuck, the ‘please’ he lets out is so pathetic you feel a whine creeping from the back of your throat as your hands find purchase in his and tug slightly. “Are you ready to beg for my forgiveness?” With that, it’s his turn to let out a groan at how breathy and unsure you sound. 

“Sweetheart, I’m prepared to get on my knees and beg for hours if you’d let me…” he makes his point by licking a stripe up the side of your neck.