#also haven’t had intrusive thoughts today!!!

[louiswilliamtomlinsons]

.

[astarionancuntnin]

Hyello! I don’t know if you do requests but I thought I’d ask so the request is that x reader is honestly pretty badass and Astarion does something that pisses her off and so she barges into his tent after a long day to tell him off and fight him but decides that amidst the anger there is also hunger and decides theres a a way he can make it up to her and smutty content insues, preferably very like animalistic?? think closer by nine inch nails lol i do like the idea that they're both fighting for dominance in the interaction, you choose which one wins lol hope I’m not bothering you

did i listen to closer on repeat to bring you this? perhaps

and i never really put it out there, but hell yeah im taking requests! thank you for being my first <3

(also thank you for your patience i was heavily focused on my last chapters for die for you before approaching this ask and then it really went overboard LMAO you said "animalistic" and i took it literally, i hope you enjoy!)

Run, Little Fox

pairing: astarion x reader!ranger!tav

rating: E

word count: 5.1k

cw: 18+. smut, biblicaly accurate Astarion primal!astarion, predator/prey, knife play (if you squint), rivals/hate sex, mildly dubious consent, fighting for dominance, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie, very slight somnophilia (but id rather mention it, never too safe)

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

That’s it. 

That was once too many.

This brat of a rogue had gotten on your nerves more times than you could recall, and today you decided you had enough. Your group trusted and respected your position as their leader, a brave and cunning ranger whose decisions everyone agreed with — as they were for the greater good — so why couldn’t he do the same? It wasn’t enough that he questioned your every move in front of everyone else, no, he grew bored of you ignoring his remarks. He just had to act on his impulses and get you in trouble this time. 

You had intended on getting information out of a group of adventurers, when he had tried to pickpocket them in the middle of your discussion, and when he got caught, things obviously went south. You tried to talk things down, but they wouldn’t hear it. One thing led to another and next thing you know, they laid in a pool of their own blood and you stood with no more information than you started with. All of it, because of him, and he had the gall to say it was your own fault for not defusing the situation better. Really?!

The stress of this adventure — the impending doom that those tadpoles in your brains were — was already enough weight on your shoulders, you didn’t want to deal with Astarion’s trickery on top of it anymore. No — you couldn’t. You had enough of his unnerving attitude; enough of his shameless flirting when it was clear you weren’t interested; enough of his impetuous disdain and insolence that matched your own. Tonight, you would set the record right.

Once back at camp after this horrendous, unending day by his side, the first thing you do after dropping your loot and equipment at your tent, is bolt straight for Astarion’s. 

Still covered in a mix of your sweat, today’s unfortunate souls’ blood — and your own — you burst through the entrance of Astarion’s tent without so much as a warning to find him peacefully laying, with one arm behind his head and the other already flipping through the pages of a book he had found, and most certainly stolen, during today’s stroll.

He barely lifts his head to notice your intrusion, his eyes darting your way, half-lidded. “Looking for a cuddle?” 

The sheer audacity of the smirk he gives you. 

“You—” You fully step into his tent, staring him down with an anger that couldn’t be contained, as you close the flaps behind you, “Have been a pain in my ass for long enough.”

He scoffs, “Darling, we haven’t been close like that yet — unless this is your way of asking?” He closes his book and puts it aside to focus on you, as he rests on his elbows, his taunting smile never leaving his lips. What you wouldn't give to wipe it away from his smug face.

“The last thing I want is you anywhere near me.”

“You see,” he checks his nails, bored. “I have a hard time believing that, dear.”

“Get over yourself.” You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed at how well he could annoy you. “What makes you think I want anything to do with you after the commotion you caused today?”

“For one, you came to me, in my tent. If that's not a dead giveaway, I don't know what is,” his eyes dart back to you. “And to further prove that point, you still haven’t left — even though you claim I am the reason for your frustration. Really, it's as if you relished my company after all.”

You open your mouth to contradict him, but your words are left hanging when he gets up, his shirt slightly unbuttoned revealing the lines of his muscles concealed underneath and you can’t help but let your eyes wander longer than you intended, gulping as you do so. He chuckles lightly before he speaks up again.

“Secondly, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.”

Your eyes shoot up to his face again, and you ask defensively, “Would you rather have me not look at you?”

He gives you a mischievous look as he eyes you up and down, and he meets your gaze with just as much intensity.

“Third, and lastly, I can smell you, darling.”

“I haven't washed yet.”

“You know that isn't what I'm referring to.”

Your heartbeat quickens, as the air seems to draw out of the tent, “Well, whatever you think this is, isn't your doing,” you lie plainly in the hopes he buys it, but his smirk leads you to believe he sees right through it.

“You’re not fooling anyone but yourself, dearest.” He tilts his head, a long silence settling in between the two of you, with your breathing as the only sound audible in the space of his tent. “Maybe… There's another reason you might be frustrated. That all this, pent up anger building inside, is because of something else that you can’t control.” He closes the distance between the two of you, stopping but a whisper away from your face, and his voice gets lower, deeper. “Something that you would rather not have to deal with, but for some reason just can’t get rid of. Something that just rubs you the wrong way, and is the same reason why you can’t help but want to stay in my presence.” 

You scoff, challenging his gaze, “If that something you’re referring to is you, Astarion, then you’re right — you are the sole reason of my frustration as of late, but I could do without your irritating presence.”

“Oh, but I could make it much more pleasurable.” 

You lean back, and turn your head aside, trying to make some distance between the two of you, ”You give yourself too much credit.”

He slides a finger down your throat, leaving an unexpected shiver in its wake as he exposes your neck, when he pushes your vagabond strands of hair away, before he continues.

“Why don’t you give me a chance to show you exactly what I mean? We would both benefit from this, really; I could fix your predicament, and in exchange, I could receive… a little something from you in return.”

You contemplated the opportunity laid before you for just a second before opting for the reasonable choice. You grab his hand, pulling it away from you and when you speak up again, the anger in your voice is gone, leaving place for your much smoother, yet very assertive tone. “If you want my blood, you’ll have to earn it.”

You release his hand and he keeps it in the air where you left it, cocking his head to the side as he looks at where your hand had held him, “Earn it, you say?”

You nod, “We wouldn’t want you to become soft now, would we?” A smile of your own takes place on your lips. “If I am to be your meal, it’s only fair that you work for it.”

His eyes dart back to yours as a smirk appears on his lips, “I’m all pointy ears.”

“I’ll be hiding in the woods. If you can find and catch me, you get to drink from me. But if I catch you instead, you’re never getting a drop from me.”

He sighs, “That’s hardly a fair proposition, darling.” As you’re about to contradict him, he continues, “Here’s mine instead: if you catch me, fine — I’ll keep chasing boars and whatnot in the woods — but if I catch you…” He leans over the crook of your neck, whispering. “I get to drink from you every. night.”

You grab him by the chin, bringing him face to face with you, “If I catch you, you don’t get to put the party at risk anymore. You will be kicked out of the camp if you do.” If you had to put your vitality on the line, he had to bet something just as valuable.

His fangs glow in the faint lighting of his tent as he smiles. “Deal.”

You drop his chin as he steps back and you notice how something about him seems to be shifting; the pupils of his eyes widen, darkening; his own breathing stops; the hands at his side turning into claws, with his long and sharp nails peaking out, ready to hunt. There was nothing left of the rogue in distress that you picked up a few weeks ago, who could’ve pretended to be nothing more than an innocent, but rather pale, elf. 

When he opens his mouth to speak again, you spy his elongated fangs; much longer than you remember them to be, and his voice—

“Run.”

You don’t lose a second more; the vision of nightmares before you triggered your fight or flight reaction and without your weapons, the choice was clear. You turn around and slide through the flaps of his tent, bolting straight for your tent, where you quickly manage to pick up your trusty dagger and your set of bow and arrows.

Thankfully, everyone else at camp had gone off to bed, so no one notices you as you pick a frantic run towards the deep woods, making distance from the hungry vampire on your tracks. 

The woods are dark, with only the faint light of the moon guiding your tracks. Once far enough, or so you think, you hide behind a tree to control your breathing; you had no intention to lose to this, you needed all the advantages you could get. With your experience as a ranger, you were almost assured to catch him off guard.

Almost.

What you had seen in his tent before sprinting off was like nothing you had ever seen before. Of course, you knew Astarion was a vampire, but this was… different.

Terrifying. 

A beast, straight out of those scary bedtime stories you recall from your childhood; a monster guided by his thirst for flesh and blood, who would show no mercy, no remorse. It was merely enough to make you question this challenge with him, Gods, how embarrassing would it be to lose your life to a stupid game you had initiated purely out of spite?

The rustling of leaves nearby brings you back into focus, the adrenaline in your veins keeping you on edge for any sound. You ready your bow before you peek out of your hiding spot to aim where you heard the sound and wait patiently for another moment, your eyes never leaving the bush right until you hear another crack — right when you release the arrow, your aim striking true as you hear a loud thud. You wait a few more seconds, and when no sound can be heard from the bushes you leave your cover, advancing towards your prey. When you push the branches away, you’re face to face with none other than—

A boar.

Shit. Well — guess you caught your next meal.

Another rustling of leaves has you drawing out your bow again, ready to strike, but you’re unable to tell where it comes from.

“How does it feel, little fox?” You hear him through the woods, his deep and raspy, but unnatural voice almost echoing through you. “To be the one being hunted?”

“I’m hunting you, too, in case you forgot,” you mumble mostly to yourself, not wanting to draw out more attention and telling on your location. 

Although you were confident in your capacities, you couldn’t deny the fear building up in your chest. The unnerving feeling of knowing he was around, knowing he was onto you, but unable to find him through the dense woods, the reminder of what he looked like before you ran for your life, a creature of darkness—

“Keep running, you delicious little thing,” his voice already seems to be coming from somewhere else, where exactly you couldn't tell, as if he was constantly moving and it came from everywhere all at once. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

Damn him. He could be anywhere, it was useless to stay there, out in the open, when he was clearly onto you. Then again, he could also intentionally be pushing you to run, only to lead you into a trap of his, right where he wanted you to be. 

No, you’re smarter than this. You won't let your emotions get in the way of this: you were a hunter, born and raised for this kind of situation.

He is just another prey; you can outsmart him. You are better than him.

You put away your bow and arrows; you know your long range weapons would be of no use to you if you couldn’t see your target. If he’s trying to make you run, he has to be further ahead, so the smart choice would be to go back on your tracks.

You turn on your heels in a heartbeat and start sprinting in the opposite way, not even bothering to look behind you for any sign of him, as you hear the clear rustling of branches around you. At this moment, you know he’s right on your tail, the sounds of the forest barely covering the sound of his own movements between the trees — if that was even him. You assume it is, but who’s not to say it isn’t just another boar? Either way, all you can do now is keep running, hoping he will tire before you.

But you were against a creature of the night, someone — or rather something, now — much more in its element, in the darkness of the woods, than you were. 

You don’t run for long before you stop abruptly in your tracks to change directions, leaving the clear road for the crowded forest, where you think you could lose him.

You're temporarily reassured when you don't hear him anymore, and allow yourself to breathe again. Your heart is pounding in your chest, faster than ever, as the fear of being chased — of your life being on the line — created a warmth within you that pooled right down to your core. The risk of being caught, as for once you’re the prey, and you can’t explain it, but it excites you. Although Astarion had gotten on your every nerve, you had to give it to him — he was right that his unnerving attitude had gotten a rise out of you in the most carnal way — but you’d never admit it to his face.

A good minute passes by with no sign of him, and you feel safe enough to peek out of your hiding spot, investigating the beaten path for any sign of life. When you’re met with a dead silence, you move away from the tree you had been leaning against, only to come face to face with Astarion, who drops from the branches just above you. His eyes are somehow a much deeper shade of red, his pupils fully blown out, and he even seems taller as he smiles down on you, and that’s when you perceive the additional fangs that appeared next to the smaller ones you knew. 

You’re fixated on his sudden presence, assessing your opponent the way you would a wild animal, and you remain unmoving, focused on your own breathing.

“Nowhere left to run, I’m afraid,” the voice that comes out of his mouth is otherworldly, almost a growl and nothing like his sultry voice he used to try and charm you before. It’s as if anything that once made him pass as a mortal was gone the second you ran off from him.

You want to turn around and sprint in the opposite direction, but he's faster than your thoughts. Before you can even move a finger, he grabs you by your neck, his sharp nails digging into your skin enough to draw blood as he pushes you against the nearest tree, slightly lifting you from the ground. Instinctively, you reach for your dagger, but he is fast to catch onto your intentions and takes it away from you, throwing it on the ground far from reach. With no other options left, you reach for his hand around your neck, trying to hold on as your vision blurs from the chokehold he had on you. 

“Caught you, little fox,” he leans into your neck where you bled from to breathe you in, and licks your skin from the bottom of your neck up to your jaw, tasting your sweat mixed with the dry blood left on you. Your camp clothing leaves you dangerously exposed as opposed to your armour, and he had every intention to take advantage of it. “You will make a fine meal indeed.”

He presses his entire body against you, and you can feel not only his oddly cold breath down your neck, but also his hard bulge rubbing against your navel, right above the heat between your legs. 

A particularly bad idea crosses your mind, and you know you’ll blame it on the lack of oxygen later, but for now, it’s the only option you have.

Your hand slides down to his crotch, where you squeeze his length through his trousers, making him shudder against you and loosening his grip on your throat. You take this chance to free yourself as you quickly push him away and against the earthy ground of the forest, pinning him down using your entire body weight. You land right next to your knife and grab it just in time before he comes to his senses, now holding it against his throat.

“I win,” you say, breathless, over him.

You remain unmoving, with the threat of your knife keeping him in place, but unsure what to do next — until he laughs. You’re taken aback, but you keep your position, pressing your blade deeper into his throat.

“Well done.” His voice softens, still deeper than what you’re used to, but less guttural than it was a minute ago. “You have me completely and utterly helpless. What will you do next, I wonder?”

You don’t get to answer before you feel him moving under you, his hardness rubbing against that sweet spot between your legs. Your breathing quickens once again, caught off guard by the delicious movement of his hips against you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask, the words almost getting stuck in your throat.

“Fulfilling my part of the bargain, of course.”

“That’s not—” he lifts his hips higher, the tip of his crotch rubbing against your clit, and your body tenses at the contact. He’s rock hard and between your thin camp clothes, it's almost as if you were rubbing skin to skin against each other. A pleasurable shiver running across your spine, and you allow yourself to close your eyes for just a moment, fighting between giving in to your desires or stopping yourself from letting this go any further; it was clear which side of you was winning over, as your hunger for that something more was becoming impossible to ignore. You soften your grip on his wrist and your dagger against his throat, and that’s all he needs to gain back dominance over you, flipping you back under him and seizing your wrists to pin you down the same way you had him only seconds ago.

“Now,” he says, “this is much better, don’t you think?”

“Oh you prick,” you groan, fighting to free yourself from his grip on you, but he only tightens his grasp around your wrists. His immortal strength beats yours and your hand twists under his crushing grip, making you finally release your knife.

You curse under your breath for letting yourself be bested by the most annoying member of your party; the one who you had dreamed to put back in his place was now dominating you instead. A mix of anger and shame swirls in your stomach, along with something else that you want to deny, but can’t for the life of you understand.

Your eyes meet his, dark and hungry and so incredibly close to you. His lack of breath is strange in comparison to yours, so heavy that your chest rises with each breath you take, brushing against him. It wasn't a position you were used to, either, and you find yourself liking it more than you thought you would; with his entire body pining against yours, his legs surrounding yours and keeping them closed together, your wrists held strongly above your head; a prey caught by her predator.

You remain unmoving in this position for what feels like an eternity, until he licks his lips, his eyes falling to the space in your neck that was exposed just for him.

He leans into you, his deep voice shooting a warmth straight to your core. “This little game of yours made me quite hungry.”

You gasp when you feel his bulge rubbing against you once more and touching that sweet spot that made you rub your thighs together. 

“Perhaps,” he whispers, “you've grown an appetite of your own, little fox?”

You take a few breaths, "If you wanna feed, be my guest. You…” you sigh, defeated. “You earned it. Just— be quick about it.”

You turn your head aside, looking away and giving him space to feed, only for him to lean back, “Quick? Oh darling, you’re mistaken if you don’t think I won’t draw this out as long as I possibly can.”

He pushes your wrist up above your head where he can hold them both with one hand, while his other hand slides down to your chest, his sharp nails grazing against the curve of your breast. You close your eyes as his hand continues its journey down your navel, and into your pants, rubbing against the moist spot that kept growing in your panties.

“But don’t worry — I’ll make sure we both get our fill tonight,” he growls.

Your hips move of their own accord, wanting more of him and his touch, almost against your own will.

“Greedy, greedy, little fox.” He flashes a toothy smile, “Can't get enough? I'm not surprised.”

Your eyes open back up and you stare at him, frustrated, “Gods, do you ever shut up?”

“You have such a way with words.” He sighs, pulling his hand out of your pants. “You know, it's a wonder we haven't gotten killed because of your social prowess.”

“If you think you’re so much better than me, why don’t you—”

His lips collide with yours into an hungry kiss, one bold enough to shut you right up. A part of you is disgusted, furious, even, that he would push himself onto you, but your body’s reaction betrays you, as you kiss him back with the same intensity. It’s sloppy, his elongated tongue invading your mouth and rubbing against yours, until he bites into it and sucks, letting your crimson hit his lips. 

You moan as you pull back, rolling your tongue around to feel the puncture he made, and he smiles down on you, his teeth tainted by your blood.

“Ah… delicious.”

Something comes over you, a supernatural strength — almost animalistic — and you flip him back around on his back to take control once again. Your dishevelled hair frames your face over him, and he gets to see you panting, teeth bared, with angry eyes towering over him. There's a flash of surprise in his eyes before they take back their lusty look, and his hands fly to your shirt, ripping it open as his nails tear through the fabric as if it were air. Your shirt is quickly discarded, exposing your skin to the cool night air that raises the hairs on your back.

In the frenzy, you give the same treatment to his shirt, using that strength to destroy his clothing and revealing the very muscles you spied earlier in his tent. He raises himself up to meet you where you sat over his hips, his mouth finding yours  and kissing you feverishly as he did before, while his hands work to remove your pants. 

With a grunt from him, you're pushed back on the harsh forest ground where he rips away your trousers, leaving you only with your panties to cover you. You gasp into his mouth, breathing in his cold breath, when the night air that matches his breath hits the thin fabric of your undergarments. The shock of temperature affects you more than you had anticipated, as you are completely soaked from your arousal that had pooled down there since the beginning of the night. Astarion instantly notices it, and laughs ominously.

“Are you still going to deny it now?” He pushes your underwear aside and slides his dexterous fingers between your folds, discovering just how dire your situation is. “Hells, look at how wet you are, just for me.”

His fingers feel good, and fucking Hells you didn’t want to admit it — he was an absolute asshole — but that ship had sailed a while ago, and now you just wanted to know how good he would feel inside you.

“If you still want to feed, you better do it now before I change my mind,” you groan.

“Change your mind?” He scoffs. “I'm afraid that isn't an option. I won fair and square, little fox; now I get to devour you every night.” He flips you around, the sudden roughness of the earthy floor rubbing against your sensitive nipples making you gasp in surprise. You feel him move behind you, and you're not sure how or when it happened, but he must've removed his own trousers as you feel the ghost of his cock hovering just over your entrance. Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest with anticipation, and this feeling goes into your throat when he grabs you by the nape of your hair and pulls you into him, making you arch your back and clearly exposing your neck to him in the process. “Starting tonight.”

Within the same beat, he thrust into you, his hips slamming hard against your skin, and his fangs dive into the crook of your neck, finally taking what is rightfully his.

You cry out at the stabbing pain in your neck, this one much more different than the first time he bit you, as his elongated fangs dive deeper into your neck to draw out more of your life source, and the additional fangs leave more marks into your skin. It hurts and yet, you find your core growing warmer and wetter; between his bite and his reckless thrusting into you, with the added sensation of his initially cool skin getting warm from your blood. His thrusts gain in speed and force, and in that position, there is nothing else you can do but take it.

Even as you try to reach behind you with that last remaining will to have control, to grab his hair and pull him forward, Astarion takes a hold of your arm and pushes back against you, using his entire body weight to hold you firmly against the rough ground, and his hips to slam into your needy, little cunt. With your hair still pulled back, but your wrist now stuck in his grasp, he continues to take his fill of you with no restriction.

“Look at you, finally put in your place,” he growls as he licks up the drops of blood leaking from the fresh wounds in your neck. “Is this what you’ve been desiring all these times your eyes got lost at the sight of my body? What you’ve been dreaming of? To be properly used, like a bitch in heat? Ravaged by a beast?”

You manage to get a few words out between rushed breaths, sneering.

“F— Fuck. Y— You.”

He snickers wickedly, “I guess that answers my question. Don’t worry, pet. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh you—”

“Shh now,” Before you can even finish your sentence, his hand quickly moves from your wrist to your mouth, muffling any sounds coming from you. “We wouldn’t want to risk waking our dear friends, now, would we? Unless that’s what you want?” You groan in the palm of his hand and he chuckles. “You depraved little thing. I’ll give you just what you desire.”

His hand previously holding your hair goes down your body to hold your hips in place as he fucks you, and his teeth sink into your shoulder on the other side of your neck. The gesture meant only to keep you steady as he fucks you senseless. With his fangs deep into your skin, his nails cutting the soft skin of your hips and his dick pounding your abused cunt, you scream into his hand as you reach your climax. It’s nerve wracking, mind shattering, and leaves you completely drained. 

With a final push inside you, Astarion’s hips still and he growls into your neck, taking his last sip of you, as he pulses around your inner walls, filling you up with his warm seed. Your muscles fail you, as your body goes limp against the earthy ground, and you barely feel anything else — leaving you almost unconscious. Behind you, Astarion pulls out of you, and a weak moan escapes you as you feel his load leaking out of you.

While you’re recuperating from this treatment, Astarion loses his monstrous features: his nails retract, his pupils go back to those annoyingly charming red ruby eyes, his fangs retract just enough to fit back into his mouth, and he mimics breathing again; now passing as a mortal again.

With the minimal strength you manage to gain back, you push yourself up, and gather the few pieces of clothes that were shredded during your nightly session; tomorrow you would definitely need to find new camp clothes, these were the only ones you had and they were utterly ruined. Thank the Gods everyone else was fast asleep and you’ll be able to walk back to your tent without any remarks.

As you’re about to take your leave, completely disregarding the rogue who looked just as messy as you were, you hear him clear his throat.

“It’s always a pleasure to be doing business with you, my dear. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

You roll your eyes before shooting him a glare. “Don’t push your luck.” Your cheeks still flushed, your hair all over the place, and your form barely clothed, making you not as convincing as you had hoped for. 

You only catch a glimpse of his smirk in response to you as you walk away, and when you catch yourself actually looking forward to it, you tell yourself it's only for the opportunity to put him back in his place. 

Perhaps another white lie to coat your true feelings, but no one needed to know about that.

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[gothamite-rambler]

"I will win the no caffeinated drink bet," Tim said, drifting to sleep. (Batfamily Chronicles Microfiction Series)

Tim stared blankly at his bowl of cereal, his arms hanging by his sides as he waged a silent battle against the urge to use them to eat.

Tim: Jason, did you know that if you're allergic to chocolate, you might also be allergic to cockroaches? Shit is wild.

Jason glanced up from his phone, checking to see if anyone was around before placing it on the counter.

Jason: Right… right… what?

Tim: Crocodiles can gallop, like horses.

Jason sighed, recognizing the telltale signs that his brother was spiraling into one of those cycles of intrusive thoughts.

Jason (concerned): Tim, you good, bud?

Tim (dazed): Just… shutting down mentally… I’m about to fully power down any minute now.

Pushing his bowl away, Tim rested his forehead on the table and let out a loud yawn.

Jason (snacking on Triscuits): Is today some event for your mom or dad?

Tim (speaking slowly): No… I haven’t had… coffee in two weeks.

Jason (perplexed): How are you even awake?

Tim (tired): I think I’m staying conscious purely out of determination. Or I’ve finally lost my mind.

Tim fell silent for a moment while Jason looked on, uncertain if he should call for help.

Jason (loud): Tim!

Tim (groggy): I’m awake, I’m awake... just enjoying the table’s comfort on my head. Coffee helps me focus and function. I’m not addicted, but when you stop drinking energy drinks and patrol at night while running a company… definitely affects Tim.

Jason (slightly concerned): You realize you just referred to yourself in the third person?

Tim: Too exhausted to care right now.

Jason: Why aren’t you drinking coffee?

Tim: I made a bet with Konnor… to see how long I can go without coffee. He said if I last a full month, I’ll be the winner.

Jason: And the prize is?

Tim: If I win, I get my old leather jacket back—the one I lent him three years ago when we were hooking up. If I lose, I have to buy him a Wayne Tech laptop.

Jason: Honestly, maybe just lose this one. Our family has a messed-up circadian rhythm; we all need coffee like it’s water.

Tim: No, no... no. I’m going to… win… this…

Before he could finish, Tim let out a loud snore, having fallen asleep after a moment of silently struggling to recall his next word. Jason approached him and hesitated for a second before nudging his shoulder, but Tim remained unresponsive.

Jason: I want to give him coffee, but I don’t want Konnor to win. Ugh, I guess I’m helping him out.

With a sigh, Jason lifted Tim by the shoulders and tossed him over his shoulder, carrying him upstairs to Tim’s old bedroom. He gently laid him down on the bed and quietly closed the door to give him some space.

Pulling out his phone, Jason began texting Dick and Damian to fill them in on Tim’s situation, the ticking clock of the bet, and how they really needed to find better coping mechanisms for him.

If there was one thing the Wayne family was known for, it was never backing down from a challenge... due to being incredibly stubborn.

[wolfiihoney]

Quick blurb for my lovelies! Pls enjoy this quick poorly written piece <33 unedited btw srry hehe 💖

Higuruma wasn't easily bothered, but there were a few things that got under his skin, like loud noises, crowded stores, traffic, burnt toast, and more,

what really bothered him was the change in your sleeping routine.

Since meeting you, he had altered his work schedule to ensure the early start and end times, but lately, he'd noticed that you were waking up early, even earlier than him. You had several hours before your usual wake-up time, so why were you also rising with the sun?

This new habit was starting to concern Higuruma, and he knew he had to find out what was going on.

It was midnight, and you were sitting on the couch in the living room, watching a show but not truly paying attention to it. Sure, you loved the series, but your mind was preoccupied with intrusive thoughts. They had become more frequent lately, resurfacing after months of quiet. You yearned for the comfort of your gentle giant, but instead, you were left alone with your unchecked worries.

Higuruma, In your shared bed finally decided to talk to you after ten minutes of thinking about the matter. he walked into the living room to see you lost in thought,

“Love?” he said, his voice deep with sleep as he sat close to you on the couch, space didn’t exist to higuruma when it came to you.

You turned towards him wondering why he was out of bed.

“Hi baby, why are you awake? You have to leave in a couple of hours.” You said not wanting him to oversleep just because of yourself.

You snuggled into his side, feeling safe in his embrace. “Why haven’t you been coming to bed.” He was hoping he wasn’t the reason for your unhealthy sleep schedule.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Higuruma tightened his arms around you, his concern was evident in his tone. "Is everything alright y/n?”

His fingers gently grazed the skin beneath your eyes. “You look a little tired, love,” he said kissing the darkness under your eyes. You wanted to cry, he made you feel so safe.

“I mean I am a little tired but I can’t sleep, I’ve just been thinking so much,” you said becoming more embarrassed.

“I can’t stop, I keep guilting myself and beating myself up, I don’t know why I feel this way.” You said trying to hold back tears. Higuruma's heart clenched as he listened to your words, the pain and confusion you were feeling echoing through your voice. He pulled you even closer, wrapping you tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey," he said, his voice gentle. He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"I wish you had told me earlier," he said, his own eyes filled with concern and love. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

“I know… I don’t know, I just didn’t want to burden you with me not knowing how to control my thoughts, I’m sorry.” You said looking down at your lap

“Why are you apologizing y/n? You could never burden me,” he said standing while picking you up, with his hands on your butt so you could face him.

“Okay,” he said with determination in his voice. “we’re going to bed, and if you can’t sleep tonight that’s okay, we’ll be up together and we can just sleep in later today.” He said entering the room and plopping you onto the big bed. “But we both have work.” You said.

“I’ll call Gojo and let him know you’re sick and can’t come into the school, he won’t believe me and he’ll probably think I’m trying to keep you all to myself which is true,”

He said with a deep chuckle. “and I have more than enough unused off days so I’ll be fine.”

He pulled you closer to him and squeezed you into a tight hug almost like he was trying to make you feel the undeniable love and devotion he has for you. “Get some rest, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He said kissing your forehead and then your lips. He now was determined to ease your mind.

Reblogs are definitely appreciated!

Xoxo

[heartbeat-eras]

~Intro Post ~

Hi everyone!

Long time cardiophile in the community but just discovering tumblr for the first time.  Please bear with me while I work this out 😅

About me:

My first memory was me, maybe 3 years old, with my head on my Mums chest asking her what that was. Ever since then it’s always been a thing I’ve been fascinated in. 

My cardio-interest can be many things and have evolved over the years. I have the curiosity about what certain things make it do. How it reacts to exercise or caffeine or nicotine or standing different ways. How holding your breath makes it skip and slow down. I love seeing the reactions to different things. This was the era I started in. 

Then there is the emotional side. The heart can’t lie. If you had a stethoscope on my chest right now, while these words could be trying to portray confidence - you you hear her thrashing in my chest with nervousness / excitement. (Talking about hearts, even anon, gives me anxiety). It’s one of those things that in my real life I would love to be more open about but the level of trust to do that is something that needs to be earned. 

And the dark / …. Adult side… if you asked me years ago I would have said hell no. It depends on the day, month, mood, etc. I’m more open to it these days. Electro, breath play and cpr is what I would lean into, but I’m either in the mood or definitely not. There’s no in between. 

RP / Messages - I’ve never RP before. Maybe I want to try? I’m not sure. I need to be comfortable to talk about hearts so it would have to be a slow intro into it. I also never know how to answer a blind message saying “how’s your heart?”  It kinda feels intrusive and personal so unless it’s a comment about a post PLEASE just start how you would any message to any friend 😊

About my heart

My heart wasn’t all the exciting. Sleeping she gets into the high 40s - low 50’s. Just sitting around working she’s chill around 68. It’s the exercise that gets her. I’ve been a smoker for about 16 years (the last 3 of those vaping instead). When I exercise she shoots up and stays in the 170-188 range on a run. Her recovery is ok considering nic. Slows down initially pretty quickly but says just about 100 for a while. She doesn’t throw many skips and I can induce a couple from a breath hold / push but usually will just beat really slowly after that. 

… well all that was until 6 month ago. Yo girl was diagnosed with ADHD as an adult and started on stimulants. Now she feels completely different. I needed to go through the full heart check prior to this, I wanted so bad to see the ECG and see her beating but I was mentally not in a good place and didn’t get to. 

They say that Dexadrine is meant to only increase your resting by 5-7 beats. I would end up sitting at my desk and her beating away happily in the 90s. I haven’t exercised yet but when they wear off at night I can definitely feel her pounding a bit harder and faster than she used to. I’ve now noticed late at night she will occasionally get skippy and throw 5 or 6 beats in a row. But only occasionally and then goes back the normal pounding rhythm. 

Last night I wore my chest strap to bed to see how she was behaving. When she would usually be around 50, last night she didn’t get lower than 65. Today I decided to test her and record her without getting up and taking my meds. A true resting test. She was steady around 68 for 45 mins. Then she increased to about 72 as they kicked in. So maybe they weren’t lying. Maybe just being up is enough to jack her up into the 90s 🤔 she is pounding really forcefully though. I think I’m going to continue monitoring and see if this the norm. 

Anyway, you’ve made it this far you probably deserve some of her sounds. After she didn’t take off into the 90s like I thought she would I decided it was time to have my morning nicotine. This is where the changes took place. A short sound for you to hear hear speeding up. This is before I’ve stood up still. 

What do you hear? How fast is she beating? What do you think she’s feeling? 

Soon I’ll try some exercise and we will see how that goes. 😅

[life-at-hogwarts]

Darkness within (House of Gaunt)

Pairing: Ominis x GN! reader

Warnings: mentions of drinking, intrusive thoughts, panic attacks, hurt/comfort

Word count: 3.3 k

“I’m sorry I’m making it so difficult. I wish I was easier to love.”

“Nothing about you is hard to love. In fact, loving you feels as easy as breathing. You don’t need to be ashamed of your scars. I know what I signed up for, and I haven’t changed my mind.”

Summary: Bromance. Violence. Trauma.

A/n: More emotional torture because that's just how I roll.

Chapter 5 of House of Gaunt

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 AO3

If you hadn’t felt the lack of sleep when you came back from your date night, you certainly felt it now. You had struggled to pay attention in your classes all morning. Partly because you were so sleep-deprived your brain could barely process what was going on, but also because just sitting next to Ominis made your stomach flutter. All you could think about was kissing him and your mind kept wandering back to the night before. Your distractedness cost you 5 housepoints in potions class when you accidentally added too much leech juice, causing the liquid to burn through the cauldron and flooding the potions stations of all those around you.

By lunch you were so exhausted you seriously considered skipping the rest of the day and calling in sick. You listlessly pushed your food around on your plate and fought the urge to rest your head on Ominis shoulder. The blonde had been quiet all morning, struggling to stay awake and was now resting his head in his palm, lost in thought, his meal still untouched.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked and pushed your plate away, officially giving up on trying to choke down lunch.

“Sebastian wasn’t in his bed when I came back. He must have spent the entire night in the Undercroft studying the journal,” Ominis sighed. “I’m worried about him.”

Since both of you had skipped breakfast, you had only seen your freckled friend briefly in class today and you hadn’t had the time yet to catch up.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“He doesn’t listen!” Ominis groaned exasperated and tiredly rubbed his face. This entire thing with the journal really ate at him but you didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire between him and Sebastian. “His obsession with finding a cure is going to be…” Ominis stopped in the middle of the sentence and muttered under his breath,“Speak of the devil...”

You didn’t have to look up to know that Sebastian must be on his way towards the Slytherin table. No one could sneak up on Ominis, especially not Sebastian, whose footsteps and heartbeat he knew as well as his own. The freckled brunette slumped on the seat next to you, looking about as bad as you felt. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes he must have gotten about as much sleep as the both of you.

 “Sebastian! You look awful. How long did you stay up?”

“You’re one to talk. I know the two of you snuck out last night too. How was your date by the way?” he shot back, a taunting smile on his face. You laughed and gave him a cheeky wink.

“Don’t try to change the subject. We are worried about you,” Ominis chimed in, his voice sounding strained and tired.

“Look I don’t feel like being interrogated. Leave it alone. Seriously,” Sebastian groaned, unable to hide his annoyance. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and prayed they would leave you out of it. Trying to diffuse the tension you dramatically collapsed on the table, burying your face in your crossed arms. “Merlin what I would do for a quick nap right now. Do you think Professor Binns would even notice if we missed class?”

“Nice try darling, but I am not risking detention for a nap,” Ominis sighed and let his fingers run through your hair. Surprised by this public display of affection Sebastian raised an eyebrow but remained silent. It must be odd for him to see his best friends dating, you thought to yourself. I hope he doesn’t feel left out.  “Says the one who falls asleep in class,” you replied teasingly and laughed when Ominis pretended to pout. Sebastian joined in and just like that the tension between the two was gone and they were back to being best friends.

“Watch out Ominis. Mc will lead you down a dangerous path. Sneaking around the castle at night, skipping class, soon you will join us on our little excursions in the Highlands.”

“You wish. I don’t even want to know what you two are up to when I’m not around.”

“Don’t worry I will take care of your sweetheart,” Sebastian grinned, earning an annoyed eyeroll from the both of you. Then he added, “I’m happy for you. Truly. You two deserve to be happy. Just keep the snogging at a minimum when I’m around, please.”

----------

You clutched your scarf, buried your nose in the soft fabric to protect it from the sharp wind so typical for the Highlands and hurried your steps. The path to Hogsmeade was usually filled with Hogwarts students, but to your luck the weather seemed to have scared off most of them. The sky was dark and hung with even darker clouds, and the wind tugged on your clothes mercilessly, no doubt the presage of a storm. You rushed past the shops on main street and made your way up to the town square where Sebastian already waited for you at the foot of the giant willow tree.

“Hope you didn’t have to wait too long,” you greeted him, still out of breath.

“Tell me again why we didn’t just meet at the three broomsticks?” your friend grumbled as he tried to keep his thick brown locks away from his face.

“It was your idea to meet here,” you protested but your friend gave you a playful nudge to signal that he was just messing around.

“Tell you what the first round of Butterbeer is on you and we are even,” he laughed.

Only minutes later the both of you warmed your hands on the warm mugs and inhaled the sweet scent of the liquid. The three broomsticks was relatively empty but you welcomed it. The things you and Sebastian usually discussed required a certain degree of privacy.

“So, tell me about your date,” Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. He seemed to be in a good mood today.

“Didn’t Ominis already give you a play-by-play?”

The brunettes face darkened. “Not exactly.” Seems like I’ve hit a nerve. Of course, you had noticed that something between them had changed ever since the scriptorium. Usually, you tried to stay out of it, but today you felt like you had to ask. “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“The usual. We’re still having…a disagreement over the spellbook. I’m sure your beau must have told you all about it,” he scoffed, and his entire demeanor changed. Gone was the lighthearted mischief maker that you knew and loved. You had seen and felt his dark side several times, this irritable, angry and bitter version of him and knew arguing with him would be pointless but you had to try.

“He’s worried about you because he loves you, you know?”

“If he loved me, he would help me find a cure for Anne,” Sebastian spat, his voice cold as ice.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Of course, you take his side.”

“Now that we are courting you mean. That doesn't change anything for me. Our friendship is a separate thing, I’m just trying to understand what’s going on between the two of you,” you protested and fought the urge to roll your eyes. It was unfair of Sebastian to accuse you of taking sides, when you had always been there for him to help him execute whatever crazy plan he had come up with.

“Don’t. This is between Ominis and I. Now let’s talk about something else. You still haven’t told me how your date went,” he tried to diffuse the situation and gave you a tired smile. “But first, I’m going to get us something a little stronger.” You couldn’t help but smile too when you watched your friend work his charm and quick wit to convince Sirona to slip him two glasses of Firewhiskey.

On your way back to the castle you felt the alcohol taking effect, keeping you warm from the icy wind. Next to you, Sebastian swayed dangerously – he had had even more shots than you. We are going to be so hungover tomorrow. The way back to the castle felt endlessly long. This was made even worse by Sebastian who tried to lay down on the floor or run away from you every two minutes. You felt like a babysitter chasing after him and getting him to follow you. When you finally reached the castle, you decided to escort him to the dorms. Ominis welcomed you with raised eyebrows when he noticed the state his friend was in and together you dragged him into their room. After you had taken care of your friend, Ominis accompanied you back to the exit of the common room. “I take it you two had fun tonight. I’m going to have fun holding back his hair all night, judging by the condition he’s in.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not. I’m just tired,” he quickly reassured you and placed a quick kiss on your lips before he backed away and made a face. “That bad?” you giggled.

“Let’s just hope you don��t run into any professors.”

Still, he didn’t back away when you pulled him closer for another kiss. You buried your fingers in his hair and pressed your cold body against his warmth. He replied by deepening the kiss, his tongue starting to explore yours, as he tightened his grip on you. You enjoyed the way he shivered and gasped under your touch when you ran your hands down his spine. Then suddenly, the warmth was gone. Ominis had forced himself to pull away and left you longing for more. You looked at him, puzzled, and watched him catch his breath. Why did you stop? “We shouldn’t. Not here. Not like this,” he finally managed to get out and gestured at the room. You didn’t care. Ominis cupped your face and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“You know how much I want you. But this is not the time or place.” Pretending to pout you turned away from him, but you were too drunk to keep up your pretense and started giggling. 

“Go to bed, darling. Sleep it off. I have to go look after Sebastian,” Ominis murmured softly and stroked your cheek. “Are you going to make it back to your dorms safely?” The concern in his voice made your heart soar. It felt good, being loved this way. “I’ll be fine,” you reassured him and reached for his hand. He pulled you into a hug instead and you buried your face in his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Goodnight, darling”, he whispered and placed another kiss on the top of your head.

As soon as you stepped through the doorway into the corridor someone grabbed your arm. “Ominis…,” you giggled and turned around. You froze when you were met by Marvolos piercing stare and instinctively took a step back.

“You know if you want to be with a Gaunt so badly, I would be the better option. I don’t get why you waste your time with my crippled brother. It’s not like he is going to inherit anything,” he sneered, his voice dripping with hatred and disgust.

Without hesitation you took a swing and punched him. Hard. A disgusting cracking sound echoed through the empty corridor, followed by a long silence. Finally, Marvolo looked up, a nasty smile on his lips, blood dripping from his broken nose. You suddenly became aware of how helpless you would be if he decided to fight you right now. Still half-sedated from the alcohol you were an easy target. You clutched your wand and waited for Marvolo to retaliate. Nothing happened. The only sound was the steady dripping of blood onto the stone floor. It made him look even more dangerous. Even though he was younger than you your instincts told you not to underestimate him. According to Ominis he took great pleasure in practicing the Unforgivables on other people. After a few more moments that felt like an eternity he simply turned around and vanished through the entrance of the common room. Your hands were shaking when you made your way back to your dorms. Whatever this was with Marvolo, you could feel that it was only the beginning.

-------

When you woke up in the morning your head was throbbing. You could only guess how Sebastian must be feeling.  Thinking about the events of last night you groaned, knowing that Ominis would not be amused when he found out what you had done to his brother, and you were not in the mood for conflict. Maybe I’ll just stay in my room all day. As much as you loved that plan you knew you had to go to the Room of Requirement to take care of all your rescued creatures. Highwing always got grumpy when he didn’t get his dinner on time, and you really didn’t want to deal with a grumpy Hippogriff.

You spent the entire morning feeding, grooming, and playing with your creatures, really taking your time. After that you tended to your plants and quickly brewed a few more healing potions for good measure. You even managed to get Deek to bring you a couple of sandwiches from the kitchens, so you didn’t have to go to the great hall for lunch. Just when you thought about taking Highwing out for a ride you heard someone enter the Room of Requirement. Ominis.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

You tried reading his face to figure out how to approach this, but he remained expressionless.  While you were thinking about what to say he continued, “You don’t need to hide from me. I heard what you did to Marvolo last night. What was that about?”

“I can handle your brother.”

Ominis furrowed his brows and moved closer. “What happened?” he asked softly. He didn’t seem angry at all, he seemed concerned. You let out a shaky breath and gently placed a hand on his forearm, “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“What did he say to you?” Ominis asked again, his milky gaze holding yours.

“He insulted you and I lost my temper. That’s what happened.”

For a long time, no one said anything. You would have done anything to know what was going on inside of Ominis’ head as you waited for his response. Was he angry at you? You thought about Marvolos disgusting grin and clenched your fists again. I’m not going to apologize for this, you thought grimly. Finally, Ominis spoke up.

“I think it’s best that we end this right now before you get hurt.”

It felt like someone had hit you in the face and you quicklypulled back your hand that was still resting on his arm. This reaction didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t even you who got hurt but Marvolo. If anything, this proved that you could look after yourself.

“Where is this coming from? I had a little disagreement with your brother and you want to break up?”

“They will come after you. It was stupid of me to think they would ever let me be happy,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Ominis, I’m not going anywhere,” you tried to reassure him, but he was starting to panic. His hands were shaking violently, and he kept cradling his head repeating the same thing over and over again. “They’re going to hurt you. And it will be my fault.”

Seeing him like this, you felt helpless. “I need you to calm down. Focus on my voice and breathe. Nothing is going to happen to me, alright? Your family won’t hurt me. It’s alright. Everything is alright,” you once again tried to talk him down, but it was no use. He seemed to be trapped inside of his own mind and you couldn’t get him out.

 “My thoughts are so loud. I can’t make them stop. It’s so loud. I need to make it stop,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. Now you were starting to panic as well. You had never seen him like this before and it scared you. What scared you even more was that you didn’t know how to help him.

“Stay here. I’ll go get Sebastian,” you said and hurried out of the room. You didn’t even bother searching for him in the Slytherin dorms and headed straight for the Undercroft. Sure enough, you found your friend, his nose buried in the old tome you had found in the Scriptorium.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked when he saw your flushed face.

“Something is wrong with Ominis. I don’t know how to calm him down. He insists that his family is going to do something to me. He says he can’t make his thoughts stop,” you blurted out, stumbling over your words.

Sebastian nodded and closed his book. “I see. He gets like that sometimes. Bring me to him. I know what to do.”

-------

The sun was about to set when you made your way to the Slytherin dorms. A few minutes ago you had received an owl from Sebastian, that Ominis was better and wanted to talk to you. As you hurried down the corridors of Hogwarts you smiled to yourself. It was heartwarming the way these two took care of each other, despite being in a fight. The connection between them was more than friendship, it was brotherhood.

Ominis waited for you in front of the entrance to the common room. Before you could say anything he offered you his hand. “Care to accompany me for a walk?”  Even though you wanted nothing more than ask how he was and what had happened, you silently interlocked your fingers with his, giving him space. For a while you walked in silence, leaving the dungeons behind and passing the empty great hall. When Ominis lead you through the courtyard towards a little iron gate you finally understood where you were headed. The boathouse. Of course. On your way down the endless-seeming staircase Ominis finally started to speak.

“Sorry you had to see me like this.”

“There is no need to apologize. Do you want to tell me what happened?” you asked tentatively. The blonde took a shaky breath before answering and you squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Sometimes I get these thoughts. They are not real, but they feel so real that I lose myself in them. It’s like they are screaming at me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“What are they saying?”

“Usually my worst fears. Things I don’t want to happen,” he whispered and lowered his gaze, collapsing into himself. You had seen him like this before – at Gaunt Manor when his father had raised his voice at the dinner table. Seeing what his family had done to him made your blood boil, but you put your anger aside and asked softly, “That sounds awful. How can I help you when something like that happens?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sorry I’m making it so difficult. I wish I was easier to love.”

“Nothing about you is hard to love. In fact, loving you feels as easy as breathing. You don’t need to be ashamed of your scars. I know what I signed up for, and I haven’t changed my mind.”

Ominis still didn’t look at you, his empty gaze fixated on the dark water of the lake.  “You haven’t seen me at my worst yet. Believe it or not I’m actually keeping it together pretty well at the moment. That can change. And when it does, things get ugly. You don’t want to be around when that happens.”

You could feel him trying to pull away but you didn’t let him. “Stop. I’m perfectly able of making my own decisions. Try to push me away as much as you like, but I’m not going anywhere.”

[pinkchrissysposts]

hey chrissy! I’ve been doing the ROE technique and the 3DOL it’s day 4 and I haven’t gotten anything. Today I woke up and I feel like shit since I’m still here living this life. I tried saturating my mind for the past few days idk if I failed because when I’d affirm I’d lose focus then after a few minutes I’d remember then I’d affirm again and the pattern continues. I was so confident yesterday that I’d wake up in the void but I didn’t and I will persist but it just hurts to affirm. I’m starting to feel like I don’t deserve this or something but I’ll keep persisting. Idk if it’s my affirmations or if my intrusive thoughts impressed my subconscious because whenever I unintentionally think about school and my deadline and just this life as a whole and “what if nothing happens?” “What if this is all fake?” “What if I wake up here again?” I literally feel my stomach turn and my heart sink and it’s so annoying but I keep affirming. My question is if my intrusive thoughts are impressing mu subconscious which is why I keep failing because if it is then I’m fucked💀 because I feel nice when I visualise my life afterwards and affirm waking up in the void but I always feel the most whenever I think the opposite. Normally I manifest small things I don’t give a shit about but it’s normally me affirming not feeling anything at all and then I imagine the idea of that thing happening and then I forget about it. But i feel like if I forget about the void I’ll never ever achieve it and my life is falling apart. I’ve been reading success stories that have to do with affirming and they were lucky enough to do it in a short span and I’m just scared for myself overall and idk if I will be able to as well. Because of how lucky they are I even question if this is all real😭😭 like I’ll be feeling content and a little confident (some anxiety is still there) when I affirm and I’m like okay I’ll wake up in it tonight then I wake up and feel my chest ache to see the same thing again🗿 do I have to affirm every minute without stopping or something? because my attention span is short and I lose focus easily or is it my affirmations?

I affirm “roe i wake up in the void aware every time I fall asleep” and then I say “roe i always manifest/ my affirmations instantly manifest/materialise in 3 days or less”

I think you just lose focus😭but it's fine I had an anon who was also was suffering with the same issue because she have adhd and anxiety but after a month she dm me again saying she entered void. What helped her is doing a 3 minute breathwork before her her saturation session and doing eft tapping whenever negative thoughts start to distract her,it took her a week but she never no matter what or how much anxiety she had let 3D lead her. If you felt like it's not gonna work then take at 15 minutes and let yourself feel those emotions,then take a deep breath and go for affirming or deciding. I read a post by a blogger saying that.

And never ever think that you don't deserve void then you are absolutely wrong,because you are void,when we sleep we're in void it's just we are not aware of it. You are literally sinning if you ere not letting yourself have the desire. You must remember that desire or thing or void didn't have any meaning to it until you decided to give it all the power and keeping it in pedestal,if you didn't know about void it wouldn't even exist in your reality. So never let those thoughts lead you to an u desirable state.

[tinyluminaryzombie]

Running Home To Your Sweet Nothings

Best-selling poet Lily Evans ends up abandoned at a (awful) corporate party, is rescued, and pines over friend and temporary roommate, James Potter. 1114 Words.

For @jilytoberfest's Bitter Sweet Challenge

Prompt: "You lied to me" (angst to fluff)

Read on ao3

“You lied to me, Potter!” Lily called out, dumping her bags by the door.

She kicked her heels off and heard James cough. “I lied to a receptionist. And I think what you mean is ‘thank you, lovely roommate, for rescuing me from the state corporate that my poet soul couldn’t bear,’” he countered.

Lily had come home ready to fight. Today was terrible and pointed jokes and cute smirks wouldn’t change that. She never should have agreed to go, but her sister finally wanted her.

Petunia had called her a week ago. “I know it’s last minute but everyone’s been clamoring to meet you since you got on the best-seller list. You can come to the party as my plus one and Vernon, you, and I can celebrate after!”

Lily was desperate for Petunia’s approval. She bit her lip after her sister suggested Lily’s future husband may be at a hedge fund work party. She didn’t break their streak of silence on the subject of her best-selling poetry book. Not even when she wanted to scream, why me and not the hundreds of other writers who haven’t just released a debut book on their bisexual identity? 

Because Petunia wanted her.

Lily still doesn’t understand why Petunia asked her. A few hours earlier, her sister paraded Lily around for a respectable ten minutes and promptly left for her fiance and his friends. Besides Petunia abandoning her, it was exactly what Lily thought it would be: uncomfortable. The intrusive questions, sexist jokes, and homophobic quips made her want to scream. But she couldn’t leave or fight back without either risking Petunia’s job or their relationship.

But just as Lily had resigned herself to the terrible small talk, James whisked her away with one phone call.

He’d helped her through countless horrendous days. Somehow, today was different. Lily just wanted to melt into James, welcome that fuzzy feeling. But every time she thought of confessing, she pictured James, disgusted and betrayed. It was too dangerous to let James comfort her.

Instead, she had come in, ready to fight.

“First,” Lily said, “temporary roommate. Second, I was doing fine without you. Third, you’re literally the son of a CEO.” Walking into her living room, her eyes caught James sprawled on the couch. He hadn’t changed since this morning: still looking impossibly hot in an infuriating muscle tank. God damn it, he really had it all, she thought.

“Hey, Lily!” James said, swinging his legs over as she moved to sit down.

“James, I can’t believe you told the receptionist Mr. Potter wanted to speak with me,” Lily said, forcing herself to stay on topic.

James just looked at her and said, “Well, he did.”

If Lily wasn’t already sitting down she would be now. Unsure of how to respond, she sighed and brought her knees to her chest.

Her arms wrapped around her legs and not James— where they ached to be. Because behind every domestic fantasy, which only increased after he moved in, James was her friend. It was easy to pretend they were living together. But it was fake. And temporary. 

Lily fought between a grimace and a smile.  “I’m pretty sure they were not picturing a 29-year-old with messy hair and arm muscles.”

Shit. 

Lily’s face went slack and James’s smirk grew. Internally, she cursed that goddamn muscle tank for haunting her dreams and corrupting her thoughts. 

Barreling forward, Lily continued. “I was so annoyed with you.”

“I know,” James said slowly. “I knew you wanted to fight your own battles. I just also knew you couldn’t leave—even if you needed to. I guess it’s a reflex, to get involved when the people I care about are in trouble. Plus, I’ve gotten pretty good at bailing Sirius out of shitty family situations.”

Lily nods. She knew James wasn’t trying to be chauvinistic or patronizing (that streak had ended years before). But, there was a small part of her that didn’t want to be saved by anyone. Unfortebly for her, Lily had become accustomed to being loved by James Potter—fiercely and unjudged.

James rescued her. What the hell was Lily supposed to do when James knew what she needed, what she wanted, more than anyone else? Friends don’t want to bury themselves in a friend’s skin after a bad day.

Lily shook her head and noticed that James was still talking, gaining volume.

“—You were texting me about how disgusting and horrible it was! Someone literally propositioned you for a threesome! At your sister’s work event! I was scared and I didn’t know what to do. Also, she was parading you around because you hit the best-seller list—which I am immensely proud of you for—but you were an amazing person and an amazing poet before that!” Somehow, James had moved closer, his knees touching hers.

“James—” Lily started, unable to say more. Stuck in the creases of James’s face and the emotion swelling in his eyes. Masochistically, she thought it almost looked like love. 

“Lily,” he whispered, “I just needed to be next to you. To be with you.”

Lily didn’t know she got here, to James looking at her like that. Her head was spinning as she processed the weight of this moment. It felt like a love confession. James was speaking softly, never taking his eyes off of hers. 

But what if it wasn’t? What if she leaned in and James drew back in disgust? 

“Shit! Shit!” James shouted, causing Lily to blink rapidly. 

Unsure of what was happening, Lily reached her hand over James’s, bracing for a flinch that never came. “I didn’t mean to make this about me,” he said, voice wavering and thick. Lily shook her head and slowly smiled. Her thumb rubbed the pulse point on his wrist. It was her turn to be brave.

“I need to be next to you too, James.”

James reached over, arms under hers, and wrapped her in a tight hug. She squeezed her arms around his shoulders.

“I,” Lily started, interrupted when James moved his hand to her jawline. “I am in love with you,” she said shakily, doing her best to keep looking at him.

“And I,” James whispered in her neck, lips ghosting her skin. “am in love with you, Lily Evans.”

Wrapped in James’s arms, Lily thought there was something comforting about hugging first. After the confessions, their first kiss was inevitable. But this was reverent.

James’s lips moved up her jaw and Lily lowered her head. Their lips met, soft like the first poem she’d written about him. She’d immortalize this moment later: write about lips, and collarbones, and hips, and whispers turned to whimpers with veneration. But right now, a best-selling poet stopped thinking. Life itself oozed like poetry, new skin like honey.

[forgottenfeesh]

I really really want Logan to be the orange side cause I think that would be way cooler than he’s just being influenced to be angry and actually make the moment he snaps and fully embraces it meaningful.

So here’s my complied proof I’m desperately hoping isn’t just jumbled nonsense my brain put together! Also no I’m not using any of the more obvious evidence cause my brain don’t work that way.

why does Logan have good reflexes then immediately lies about it.

Since Thomas has seen all the other sides beforehand and it’s surprising to him that we can assume that none of the other sides have demonstrated this so it isn’t just an added benefit into being Thomas’s phyce.

And this doesn’t seem like the face of someone who wants to show off, it just seems like it’s natural reaction for him. So this might be actually due to his reflexes.

So why does Thomas’s s Logic need quick reactions? I can’t really see Logan getting Thomas into fights or fighting those same fights for Thomas and he certainly isn’t impulsive. And if you think about reflexs in the baseline they don’t exactly side with Logic but instead impulse.

It doesn’t help either when Logan purposely lies about it in the next scene.

Because as the audience we know that he didn’t have any coffee he instead he replaced it all with wine (I really love the gag of Logan canonically being an alcoholic btw) which if anything would lessen Logan’s reflexes. So he obviously realises he’s not supposed to do that.

Also thinking back. Logan always seems to try to make a big deal that he can’t catch stuff so maybe that’s just an elaborate ruse anyhoo onto the other one.

Why Logan automatically retorts but then later lies about not being good at said retorts (You wrote a spiteful rap song about someone Logan, embrace it)

Here we have him seemingly automatically retorting to Romans insults which again shows his impulsive nature which is a really odd nature of a purely logical side to be.

Add then immediately lies about it and try’s to thinly ignore and hide said impulsivity.

Meaning he knows logic shouldn’t be offended by it and should take the figurative high road but he can’t. He name calls and gets on Romans level.

Excess proof

1) Anger does in real life take the form of logic at first, it starts off as seemingly reasonable assumptions.

Example- Margret must of took my lunch as she was the only one in the office at that time and since I made it and have been looking fordward too it all day while she had quite a bit today, I shall like to have a word.

But after a while all sense of logic degrades into doing illogical activities on the base of logic

Example- MARGRET YOU WITCH I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT LUNCH ALL YEAR AND SPENT HOURS TIRELESSLY COOKING IT! (Notice how the straight facts haven’t been removed only exaggerated)

2) Like a certain someone’s current arch and it would make sense as in my opinion see Virgil as Logan’s opposite as he’s the end of logic that’s all about worrying about the facts and endlessly listing them while anger is on Logan’s side of actually doing something with those same facts and since Logic’s dark side is now light what happens to the other side in logic?

3) The point to debunk this argument is usually pattons eyes going orange when he was a frog but what if that was a side effect of Logan blowing up off screen.

As in moving on and now dealing with intrusive thoughts we see Thomas gets, possessed influenced by Logan, (Which is what anger does blinding its victims in anger and influencing them to do things they wouldn’t normally) which begs the question what does to the sides, could it perhaps idk make one a tad more spiteful, maybe even making them finally lose their patience (exact thing that happens with lillypatton/ Patton in selfishness v selflessness part 2) espically since Logan was especially angry with the others before this scend and after Janus seems more defensive over him maybe he lost it off screen and Pattons orange eyes reflect that it’s due to him being affected by logins anger. Didn’t happen last 2 times as were either off screen or in place completely flooded with pattons emotions.

4) We like to think we all have a middle, perfect, guiding voice in our heads but most of us don’t it’s part of being human, which is why he has 2 colours because Thomas choice to only view him as only Logic, despite him being something completely different in the long term. I’m fact you could even say.

[louiswilliamtomlinsons]

.

[clothyume]

The Whereabouts of the Missing Book Episode 9

Eichi: Oh, Tsukasa-kun and Nagisa-kun. I heard about the situation from Keito

Tsukasa: Thank you, everyone, I’m very sorry for the intrusion  

Rei: Fufu, don’t worry. You’re searching for Kagehira-kun’s lost book after all 

Aira: Books from Yumenosaki have a stamp at the back, don’t they? I don’t think we have a book like that here

Eichi: We haven’t really had any business in the Book Room as of late 

Of course, we haven’t borrowed any books, so we should be cleared from the suspect list… 

Rei: …Is a suspect not someone who choses troubling words 

Eichi: Fufu, our house is being searched. Shouldn’t we take initiative to prove our innocence? 

Ahh, however. I do wonder what it was that Shiratori-kun shoved beneath his bed yesterday night

Aira: Eeh, you saw that, Tenshouin-senpai!? 

Tsukasa: Shiratori-kun, what the hell are you hiding? Perhaps destroying evidence…

Aira: Y-You’re wrong! It’s nothing like that

Nagisa: …Hm. Is it in this drawer that’s under the bed? 

Aira: Ah, wait Ran-senpai! Don’t open that! 

Tsukasa: Th-this is…!? 

Nagisa: …My can badge. That and one of Tsukasa’s photo sets. It seems there’s a large quantity of other idol goods too

Tsukasa: …? Shiratori-kun, why are you trying to hide all this?  

Aira: Because I’m embarrassed that you found out I’m collecting goods of you two! That’s why I hide the goods I collect of Sakuma-senpai and Tenshouin-senpai too! 

Rei: Well, we noticed that quite some time ago 

Aira: Eeh?

Eichi: Yeah, even before you hid everything yesterday, Sakuma-kun and I knew. Since you moved in, the amount of goods has increased considerably 

Aira: Eeh!? T-That’s… So what’s the point of me being so secretive all this time? 

Eichi & Rei: There isn’t one 

Aira: Th-that’s… 

Tsukasa: …For now, it seems the book we’re searching for isn’t here 

 

(The other party, Mika and Makoto) 

Subaru: Ukki and Mikki~, welcome to our room~☆

Sora: “Giant-san” and Great-shisho~ both have work, but Sora and Sparkly-onii~san are here to greet you~ ♪ 

Makoto: Ahaha. I’ve thought this for a while, but your room is always full of entertaining people  

Mika: Umm, sorry. We ain’t come to play today

Subaru: Yeah, we get it! We heard from Hasumi-senpai 

Sora: You’re on a quest to find Mika-chan-san’s lost book, right~♪ You’re treasure hunting in Sora’s room! 

Subaru: You have permission from MAM-senpai and Hibiking-senpai, so it’s okay for you to search freely! 

Mika: Thank ya kindly, you two. Fer lettin’ us search freely 

Gyaah!  

Makoto: Uwah, what’s with the sound of a cracker so suddenly!? Kagehira-kun, are you okay? 

Mika: I got scared ‘cause of the sudden loud noise, hm? What’s this? 

Makoto: Eh, what a tiny mummy!? Why is something like this in Akehoshi-kun’s room!? 

Sora: HaHa~! This mummy is a souvenir that “Giant-san” bought overseas~ 

Usually this mummy is resting in a miniature pharaoh! 

Subaru: The souvenirs MAM-senpai buys are sometimes shady, so be careful☆ 

Makoto: Scary! Don’t put something like that in the dorm where everyone lives! 

Subaru: Oh, that’s my Ukki~! You make a great straight man*~♪ 

*Straight man or tsukkomi often refers to the serious party of a manzai duo

Also, that cracker earlier was a prank set up but Hibiking-senpai for anyone that goes in his room 

Sora: Everyday is filled with love and wonder! Is what Great-shisho~ is always saying~! That’s why he pulls pranks when Sora and the others are off guard

HiHi~! This room is Great-shisho~’s surprise box, where you have to be on guard every day 

Makoto: This is too ridiculous! Living in this room sounds like so much trouble…

(The other party, Hajime and Tori) 

Hajime: Sorry for barging in uninvited. Thank you for your cooperation

Tori: So Shiina-senpai’s room was a miss too~. Or rather, Shiina-senpai’s room was just full of strange ingredients

Hajime: As you’d expect of a chef, though I was surprised to see edible weeds that I’d never even heard of 

Tori: Weeds are edible…?  

Anyways, Tsukasa shouldn’t have to put so much effort into one book 

I didn’t think he was being serious when he suggested a house search 

Hajime: But, didn’t you agree when he said it? 

Tori: Ahaha, well, I thought it would be interesting. Apart from this opportunity, I don’t get a chance to go into other peoples rooms

If anything, I’m more surprised that Hajime agreed. I thought you weren’t very good at things like this 

Hajime: …You’re right. It’s just like you say, Tori-kun. If it were just me, I wouldn’t go to this length for an overdue book

Suou-kun and I share the same feelings, of wanting to protect the library’s rules

But I was afraid that if I strictly told everyone to follow the rules, they’d see me in a negative light… 

But when Suou-kun asked why I wasn’t frustrated, I felt a bit ashamed of myself

Suou-kun has been doing his all for this book. He can clearly say when something is no good 

There’s something about Suou-kun that makes him seem so cool, and he seems so much more suited to be the librarian than me, who’s been on the library committee for a long time…

That’s what I’m frustrated about. So I thought I’d agree with Suou-kun’s proposal this time

That way, I could be a bit more like Suou-kun…

Tori: H~mm, I see. So that’s why Hajime was suddenly so enthusiastic about it

Ye~ah... But, I don’t want Hajime to become like Tsukasa~ 

Hajime: Eh? Really?  

Tori: No, because Tsukasa is really annoying about rules. Of course it’s important to follow the rules

I think it’s a problem if we get so desperate to protect our values that we get into conflict with others

So, in order to keep a nice quiet library, I think I’d rather have Hajime, who is considerate and flexible, in charge than Tsukasa, who is quick to lose his temper

Hajime: …You would? 

Tori: Yep. Besides, when I say something, I mean it. You know, like when I got into an argument with Tsukasa 

You broke up the fight before it created hard feelings, and I thought I was really glad that Hajime was nominated for the student council

As the librarian, as the vice president, Hajime is doing great. You should be honoured to have the Student Council President’s stamp of approval! 

Hajime: …Fufu, thank you. By saying that, Tori-kun has restored my self-confidence

Tori: Fufun♪ Show your gratitude by working. Hajime is a member of my student council, so I have high hopes for him 

(Several hours later. After completing the investigation of all the rooms in Seisoukan) 

Hajime: We didn’t find the book…

Tsukasa: How strange. The book should definitely be with one of the Seisoukan residents!  

There’s nothing we can do about it. Once again I have to ask everyone to search… 

Mika: No. That’s enough, Tsukasa-kun 

Tsukasa: But…

Mika: We’ve already troubled everyone enough. Since I lost the book in the first place, I’ll take responsibility an’ pay fer it

Hajime: Kagehira-senpai. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful…

Mika: Ya don’t gotta apologize! I should be the one apologizin’...

Ngah? Sorry, looks like I’m gettin’ a call. I’ll jus pick up 

Ah, Oshi-san. What’s up, callin’ me so suddenly? …Yeah, yeah?

Eeh!? Oshisan, is that true!? 

Hajime: …? 

Previous | Next

[anxiouslyfred]

Bang-a-bonking

Summary: When Roman sees Remus in the imagination Remus claims to be doing something Roman doesn’t understand or believe to be innocent. It takes a while for Roman to learn just what bang-a-bonking means

Warnings: sex mentions

Author’s note: I got the phrase from ‘An Emotional Dictionary’ I haven’t spoken to anyone from Gloucestershire to confirm if this is a widely used phrase at all, if I take a day trip there I might see if I can find out

/\/\

It started with 'Working Through Intrusive Thoughts'. Roman hadn't been needed that day, not for Logan's plans, nor to intervene during the video with Remus's pranks and traps. Instead he took the time to make the imagination peaceful.

Honestly with everything going on among the sides and in Thomas's life, Roman and Thomas both would do better with somewhere peaceful to visit in daydreams. Also, if the entire place was made calm, idyllic and peaceful then it should last at least a few days before Remus managed to managed to make it chaotic again.

That was Roman's hope at least.

In reality, he didn't see any noticeable changes to the imagination for a fortnight afterwards. He was looking, or at least taking  a wander around the farms he'd formed daily and Roman wasn't seeing much at all, other than maybe a few animals having been added that he didn't remember creating.

Today Remus was there already, but not actually doing, well, anything that Roman could identify. He was just laying there on the bank of the river that wove around the city.

“What are you doing, Remus?” Roman asked, not argumentatively, but definitely cautious and prepared to hear that he needed to rescue the kingdom from something or other.

He wasn't prepared to hear the reply of “Bang-a-bonking.”

“Bang-a- whatting? You're making up words?” Roman's brow furrowed, and he looked around them a second time to see if there was anything in the world to explain what the other Creativity meant.

There was a cart with a few kids trotting past and some minstrels practising not far away, but nothing that seemed out of place with the kingdom Roman had made.

“Bang-a-bonking. And I'd like to return to it, Princling. Trot on.” Remus twisted a leer into his expression, waving a hand in dismissal toward the path Roman had been walking.

“That still doesn't tell me what you're doing. Is it meant to be some fucking act?”

“Nope, now carry on so I can keep bang-a-bonking while you go to find out what my phrase means.” This time Remus did exercise his powers over the imagination, but only so the path pushed Roman along it in an imitation of walking until he started to actually do so.

Roman called back over his shoulder, “You know I will do that!”

/\/\

Now for unusual turns of phrase in Thomas's mind, the people to turn to were usually either of the Creativities, or occasionally Picani if he'd manifested that day, but when Roman needed to understand what was being said, he needed someone who knew Remus better. That left him to decide between dark sides and frankly there was only one that he liked to talk to at the moment.

“Hello my Midnight Dreams, might I have your assistance for a mere moment of your afternoon?” He trilled through Virgil's door, knocking cheerfully while speaking.

There was a small groan before the door was opened and Virgil was staring back at him. “What safety checks do your daydreams need now, Princey?”

“Nothing at all. I'm hoping you know what on Earth Remus might mean when he claims to be bang-a-bonking.” Roman easily replied with a smile.

“Fucking. He's got so many phrases for fucking, it's gotta be something to do with that.” Virgil didn't blink before replying, but also didn't seem to recognise the phrase particularly well.

Roman shook his head regardless. “That can't be so, although it would have be mine own assumption should I have heard it without him in front of myself at the time.”

“Well, what was he doing then?” Virgil's frown had formed on his face already, and it wasn't clear if it was to do with Roman's questions, or just attempting to figure out Remus.

“Lounging around in the imagination, on the grass.” Roman decided not to go into any flowery descriptions for the sake of hopefully figuring out what he'd witnessed sooner.

Virgil huffed for a moment, “And he said he was bang-a-bonking? Assuming his morningstar was nowhere nearby, perhaps he'd put a vibrator in and that's what he meant.”

“You and I both know he wouldn't lie still and quiet if that was the case. Remus is a showman who would want the attention on what he's doing, especially if it's something explicit in public.” Roman scoffed now, already having dismissed the ideas of something explicit happening.

“Then you better hope Janus has heard the phrase bang-a-bonking before since Logan is terrible with slang especially the phrases you and Remus spontaneously create. Let's find him.” Virgil didn't wait for Roman's reaction before leaving his room and shutting it, pulling Roman along with him down to the common area.

Janus was reading in the living room, and from the noises it sounded like Patton was cooking something in the kitchen too. “So there's nothing suspicious at all in the two sides most against my presence seeking me out. If you're about to murder me, please remember that I've lived with Remus longer than either of you, if only by a few months.”

“Yeah, we know. We need a Remus translator and as untrustworthy as someone deciding to be called Deceit is, those extra months make you our best bet.” Virgil snarked back, rolling his eyes.

“And what do you need me to translate?” Janus remained focused on Virgil, barely glancing at Roman with his question.

Given a wave at him, Roman replied, “Bang-a-bonking.”

Janus let out a sigh, looking between them, “I assume you've already ruled out sexual depravity, and the bizarre phrases that come out of English towns that seem like they'd ben pronounced to sound like inappropriate actions?”

“He's not been going on about Worcestershire sauce again, has he?” Virgil groaned.

“Apparently he needs to know how Gloucestershire is actually pronounced, and how to make glow your sister something rude.” Janus explained easily, “He's got diagrams and dialect books in his room. Logan has been creating a number of slang cards after stealing the books from him in an attempt to avoid Thomas being haunted by any unknown phrases or metaphors appearing in his mind.”

Roman didn't pause, or both hurrying off to find Logan this time. He just threw an arm out, summoning Logan. “So what on earth does bang-a-bonking actually mean? I don't care if it's from Gloucestershire, I just want to know what the hell that Creativity is doing to my imagination!”

There was a moment of clear confusion as Logan frowned at the room, before registering the question was as directed at him as it was Janus and summoned his flash cards. “I assume this is one of Remus's new favourite phrases?”

“Yes!” Virgil and Roman exclaimed in unison.

“Well then, Bang-a-bonking means 'laying on a river-bank and watching the world go by'.” Logan stated, blinking at the groans he got in reply.

Virgil glared at Roman after a moment. “Was that literally what Remus was going?”

“Yes?” Roman exclaimed just confused now. “He's like the embodiment of chaos, how was I meant to expect that he's decided to be harmless today?”

Janus interrupted whatever exasperated remark was about to be snapped at Roman by laughing. “He is unpredictable you know, and generally honest.”

“Gah! Now I'm going to go bang-a-bonking to get over the confusion Remus caused by doing so!” Virgil flung his hands up, turning to storm into the imagination, Roman following out of habit.

Unfortunately no bang-a-bonking could now be done as the river had at some point in the afternoon started flowing with lava while smoke clouds filled the sky.

“I think Remus got bored.” Virgil's scowl drifted between the scene before them and Roman, before he disappeared back to his room.

[uni-studyjournal]

13.04.2023

In the past few days I’ve struggled a lot with focusing, I didn’t do as much as I was supposed to. This week was set to catch up on a few previous lessons which, due to their unexpected complexity, took me longer than expected. This situation generated a bad mood that, in turn, influenced my enthusiasm for studying and I’ve been less productive. Unfortunately, I’ve realized that my mood greatly influences the activities I do. I’ve learned that for me the “main” activity of the day (which for the most part is studying) has a role in the performance of all the others. As a result when I don’t achieve my study goals I unconsciously sabotage myself by not taking care of me (which means not eating healthy, not finding time to exercise or for other fun activities). This leads to a reduction in the commitment to study and can sometimes translate into wasting a day not studying not having fun neither. Such a mechanism can be toxic in the long run and it’s right to pay attention to it, prevent intrusive thoughts and manage small but significant emotional academic disappointments. My main focus this month is to deal with unforeseen situations that I don’t always manage well when I study from home. I also had to study for my biology midterm this week; since it was held today, I spent the whole day reviewing my lectures. I’m quite satisfied with myself, although a part of me wishes I’d done more. The next few days until Monday will be spent catching up on lessons I’ve not yet done and establishing a more productive routine when I’m not at uni. Another goal would be to get back to reading. For the past couple of years reader’s block has been pushing me to start a new book and then leave it unfinished and I’d like to overcome this phase. Three months ago I started Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone (big fan of the movies, never read the books), a different genre than usual to encourage myself to read, but shortly after I abandoned it. Now I don’t know if it’s appropriate to pick up HP where I left off or to start a new one that can stimulate me more. Among the most inspiring options in my library I’ve collected a classic (Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë), a gothic novel (Asylum by Patrick McGrath) and two queer volumes (Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman and Carol by Patricia Highsmith). I haven’t yet decided what to do, maybe I’ll end up leaving myself an open road by starting a new one and continuing Harry Potter when I feel like it.

Productivity:

studied for my biology midterm

reviewed some genetics notes

started my study journal

Self-care:

ate healthy after days of junk food

[givemaycoffee]

It seems you're feeling better today. I'm glad! Have some more questions :)

11, 39, 47, 78, 90

I am! :) And capitalizing on it as best as I can. Thanks for more of these 🥰

11. Do you have any strange phobias?

I don’t know if it’s strange but I have trypophobia. It’s strong enough that I have developed coping mechanisms to deal with it. It can become like an intrusive thought once it’s on my mind. I filter for it on here, and I’m always grateful when someone I follow actually uses the tag so I don’t have to see it. I also haven’t bothered to internalize how it’s spelled (even tho looking at it now it’s really not complicated), but I have the word saved in my notes app because originally I had to Google it and let me tell you… not a fun experience!

39. What time is it?

Aha, speaking of geography. It’s 4:53 pm :3

47. Do you have any obsessions right now?

Not really! Thank goodness tbh. I hyperfixated on Fire Emblem: Three Houses pretty hard when I got into it (June or July), and went down the Dimileth rabbit hole first, then Sylvix. I’m still enjoying Sylvix, but it’s not compulsive like it was when I was well and truly hyperfixated. I’ve been avoiding finishing the CF route, tho, so I’m currently playing Spiritfarer.

78. Can insanity bring on more creativity?

Uh oh! You’ve unlocked Opinions™. The first of which is that insanity is a word I find uncomfortable because it isn’t an official psychological term anymore, it’s mostly used in law these days to indicate severe mental illness, and when the average person genuinely uses it to describe another person they’re often using it to demonize said person’s mental illness. However, I don’t think anyone involved here intended that, so I am just mentioning it because I have met a lot of folks for whom it is a word that personally hurts them, and thus I feel the need to say something.

To answer the actual question, I think it’s looking at it wrong, really. Rather than bringing on creativity, I think mental illness tends to result in unique experiences, both positive and negative, and art is an outlet for all of it. Van Gogh had what seems to be manic depression, and art was a way to express himself. Art therapy is very much a thing for folks with all sorts of mental illnesses. It allows you to explore life, yourself, whatever you want in a way that doesn’t require words (or does, if you express yourself through writing), and can maybe communicate some of what’s going on in your head to someone else who otherwise might have very little understanding. And it can even help you understand yourself, too, sometimes.

So yeah, I think ultimately unique experiences and perspectives make a person more creative, especially in the eyes of someone whose own experiences are very different. It’s all relative, baby! This is also why diversity is super important (beyond just being fundamentally a good thing), because diverse people have diverse ideas and diversity of thought leads to creativity and innovation :3

90. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

First of all - this one is hilarious. Secondly… cry. Fun fact about me, if a zombie apocalypse were to happen, I would like to die, thanks! Don’t wanna deal with it, too scary and depressing. Anyhow - after crying, I would probably do the boring thing which is see if they react to anything, including movement and speech, and go from there. If no movement, J and I get up and leave and probably call my in-laws because they’re the real adults around here. 😂

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Seen Part III

Mary Sue woke early Sunday morning to her cell phone ringing; not the landline. She’d stayed up into the wee hours of the morning talking landline to landline with Joe Saturday after their magical reunion Friday. She jumped to answer the ringing despite her meager three hours of sleep, hoping it was Joe. It wasn’t. Joe wouldn’t cost her minutes when the odds were she was home. He’d always try home first. It was Steven. She expected to never hear from him again, and was disappointed he’d failed to meet those expectations. She briefly considered letting it go to voicemail, but was afraid he’d just keep calling if she did that, so she picked up. He didn’t let her say, “Hello.”

“OK, Ems. You made your point. I can’t believe you haven’t called at all since Friday.”

“Why’d you call the cell number?”

“No idea where you’d be.”

“At 7:30 on Sunday morning? I’ve barely slept. You’re burning minutes for me here.”

He ignored her concern with the potential increase in her monthly bill and continued, “I can’t believe you walked out on me over five bucks for bums.”

“I can. I wish I’d done it sooner. Way sooner. And did it ever occur to you that you abandoned me Friday night over a five dollar donation? You just...left me downtown alone because I did something pretty minor you disagreed with. What if something had happened to me?”

“That’s why I’m calling now.”

“I can feel the love, Steven. I thought it was clear enough Friday, but since I guess it’s not, it’s over. Don’t call me again. We’re not going out together anymore. Over.”

“What?!”

“Pretty sure ya heard me and again...tick tock on the minutes here. I’m hanging up...”

“Don’t! Please! I...I...”

“You what?”

“I’m...s-sorry? I...please don’t do this, Ems. What am I gonna say to Rodney and Clint and Mom and Dad and…?”

“Say whatever. They all don’t care about me at all anyway. Who cares? Goodbye.” She huffed and tossed and turned for a few minutes, unable to settle, and stared at the cradled cordless instead of her cell. “Don’t,” she said out loud to herself. She rolled away from the temptation but it still called to her. “He’s sleeping,” she said again, to her empty apartment. “I’m sure he’s sleeping. It’s intrusive and inconsiderate to call now,” she argued with herself as she scooted closer to the nightstand and grabbed the receiver. She looked at the alarm clock and excused herself somewhat. “It’s almost eight,” she conceded, dialing.

“Hmm? ‘Searly onna off day,” Joe’s groggy sleep-voice mumbled as a general answer on the third ring. She felt disgusted with herself that she’d woken him for essentially no reason besides she was awake and thinking about him.

“I’m sorry, Joey. I...”

“Rice Chex?! You alright?!” he asked, exponentially more alert. Worried.

“I’m...fine. I just...woke up early and...now I can’t go back to sleep and it was really dumb and selfish to call you but...I did. And now you’re...”

“I’m glad you called.”

“You are? But I woke you up. I mean...”

“Was thinking about you.”

“You were sleeping.”

“That doesn’t normally stop me from thinking about you. Seriously though? Was gonna call you...y’know a little later than this...and see if you wanted to do Sunday dinner at Nanna D’s. With me. Today.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. Is that...am I cutting too many corners here? Like...I’m counting the four years. To me, this isn’t day three. It’s day like...2500...”

“No, me too. I’m...cut the corners. Should I bring something?”

“Just you and an appetite for actual Italian food.”

“Well...done. This is...ok? Does your family even...like me still?”

“Uh...yes.”

“Did you tell them…? What did you tell them? Am I crashing Nanna D’s Sunday dinner?!”

“I talked to Mom yesterday before I called you and I said I might be bringing a date today. I didn’t tell her it’s you. I wanna surprise everybody.”

“What did she think about you bringing a date today when you mentioned it? Also...might?! You might be bringing a date? The hell, Joey?!” she laughed.

“I didn’t know if you’d wanna come, so I didn’t wanna give my mom anything without a ‘might.’ She was horrified about me bringing somebody, by the way. I’m sure all my aunts and cousins and Nanna D are melting down about it chopping tomatoes for Sunday gravy right now.”

“I thought you said...”

“They love you. They’ve always loved you. Mom was upset because...I...I haven’t brought anybody to Nanna D’s for dinner in four years.”

Mary Sue’s breath caught in her throat, supremely touched by what he’d said. She wanted to eloquently profess love for him back, but the only words she could form were, “Oh, Joey.”

“I can’t really...y’know...wine and dine you like you’ve probably been for...whatever, but I can take you with me to Nanna D’s. Food’s better. And free. And you’ll make Nanna’s...year. And Mom and Dad’s. And probably John’s. And...definitely mine. You’ll make my life.”

“Mine too. I kinda miss Nanna D.” Joe’s Nanna’s house was one of the few places Mary Sue had ever gone that felt like home. Home the way Paul Simon sang about it; the way instant coffee and long distance calling company commercials and Norman Rockwell paintings portrayed ‘home.’ Nanna D’s house was warm and welcoming and soothing like hot soup on a cold day. It always smelled like basil and oregano and fresh lemons and Nanna D hugged the same way Joe did. She probably taught Joe how to hug. She remembered one of her first dates with Steven when she’d arrived back here, so close to her past but still so far away, stressed out about really finishing a doctorate program; really getting on a tenure track to become a literature professor in college; really making something of herself. He’d taken her to see some movie where police officers pulled up in front of a downtown rowhouse with bright green outdoor carpeting up the five front stairs and covering the small square concrete block porch at the top, separating the steps from the entry door. A wave of comfort washed over her and she remembered the charge of happiness and connection. ‘That’s just like Nanna D’s house,’ she cheerfully noted to herself maybe a second before Steven began laughing. “What a trashy place. That’s not real. Nobody really puts astroturf on the front porch,” he snarked. Another time she should have just ended things with him. ‘Nanna D has astroturf on the front porch. That’s my home. That’s my family. That’s my Nanna,’ she thought in quiet rage, but of course she never said anything. Because in a way, Steven wasn’t wrong. The point of the movie scene was to show that it was a trashy place. Some run down, older, working class hovel in Detroit or Chicago or New York City...some harsh and believable ‘inner city-bad neighborhood’ setting for the privileged class to consume another violent crime drama. But it wasn’t a bad neighborhood to Mary Sue; it was Nanna D’s house; it was where she ate spaghetti and meatballs on Sundays with Her Joe and got all those hugs and heard all those loud, bawdy laughs from his big, loving family who loved her too.

“All the Disibios miss you. They’re gonna...my mom might cry. Be ready.” He yawned loudly.

“I should go and let you sleep...”

“You should call me when you think of me. Every single time. I’ll be happy every single time because you’re thinking about me. I don’t care if you’re panicked or proud or you don’t even have a reason. Whatever it is, I’ll be happy. Happy to help. Happy to listen. Happy to share what you wanna tell me. Happy to just hear your voice. I’m awake. I won’t go back to real sleep now, even if you let me go and I close my eyes in bed again. I’ll just think about you until it turns back into dreaming.”

“That’s...something to say,” she said breathlessly.

“I held it all in last time. That got me nowhere with nothing. I’m saying it now.”

“I’m gonna say it now too.”

“I’ll come get you at about four...”

“I’ll come get you. It’s silly for you to drive here and then drive all the way back to...”

“You’re not coming here to my place.”

“You’re serious about that? So it’s small and older. Who cares? I don’t buy ‘bad neighborhood.’ My neighborhood is probably full of drugs and sex offenders too. It’s right off a college campus and sometimes you can hear the stupid parties from Greek Life houses. You’re not ashamed of where you live now after all the shit we’ve already been through with…?”

“No. And now I don’t want you at your place alone either, honestly. I know you...I don’t want you coming here. Especially not without me with you. I’m happy to come pick you up.” It seemed like a small difference; Joe’s insistence on keeping her safe; taking care of her; looking out for her, but it wasn’t small.

“Okay. I’ll...I’ll cook for you maybe. Soon. Tuesday? Monday I assume will be...exhausting for us both at work since...”

“I’ll be there Tuesday. And at four. Don’t know why you’re up, but you need more sleep for Nanna D’s. It’s gonna be a lot. Think you could take a nap now before four if…?”

“Can you?”

“I’m kinda eager to.”

“I’m so sorry I woke you up. I knew it was...”

“I’m not sorry you woke me up. Will just make getting back to that dream more vivid.”

“I see,” she coyly replied. “Yeah, I can probably take a nap.”

“Sweet dreams, My Rice Chex.”

***

“Look who I found playing music on the street at night with my punk friends, Mom...” Joe tormented his mother, moving aside to display Mary Sue upon arrival at his grandmother’s house.

“Omigod, Joey! Is that our girl?!” his mother squealed. “Ma, it’s our Mary Sue! Look at her! Johnny, look at her!” she called to Joe’s grandmother and his father in separate parts of the house.

“I see her, dollbaby,” Joe’s dad replied with a satiated grin to his wife, who, predictably, had begun to cry. She hugged Mary Sue and then stood back at arm’s length and put her straightened fingers out to cradle Mary Sue’s chin.

“Look at you,” she said.

“It’s...it’s so good to see you,” Mary Sue sniffed, softly crying and wiping rogue tears from her cheeks before they touched Joe’s mother’s hands.

“Don’t you cry, sweetheart. Omigod. Joey, you evil little shit. How do you not tell your mother you’re bringing Mary Sue to dinner? Ma is gonna...”

Nanna D shuffled out of the kitchen with a dishtowel on her shoulder. She looked Mary Sue over with a Mona Lisa smile. “This is heaven for my Joey, I know,” she murmured into Mary Sue’s ear, engulfing her in one of those Nanna D hugs. “How is it for you, love?”

“Better than that, Mrs. Disibio.”

“Why would you call me Mrs. Disibio?”

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“The words.” Nanna D’s smile grew and she patted Mary Sue’s face. “You’re not being that big old word, love. Are you in town to see your family?”

“She’s living by the college, Nanna. Graduate school. Is here now. She’s gonna be a professor. Of books. In like a year or so. Now the studyin’ is really her writing a big...I mean, book, almost, right? About books?” Joe explained to his grandmother, but really his whole family, beaming with pride and turning to Mary Sue for authentication.

“Yeah, that’s about it, Nanna,” she sighed.

“You shouldn’t miss anymore Sundays, then,” Nanna D gently commanded, with the clear implication that she considered the previous four years of absences as Mary Sue being unfortunately and unavoidably busy.

“I won’t miss anymore if Joey wants me to be here.”

“He definitely does,” Joe said.

They spent the evening with the Disibio family, Mary Sue soaking up the timeless feeling of home and Joe having his patience and loyalty validated, looking at her snapping right into the void in his heart perfectly. All the people he loved the most were in the same room while they ate big plates of carbonara and ravioli with Nanna D’s slow cooked red sauce, just like they had been five years in the past, when Joe felt like his life was the best. Only it was more now; better now. Now Mary Sue wasn’t obliging him, and she didn’t feel trapped, and she was on her own way. She just steered so his family was a frequent stop; so he was part of the journey; maybe he was even the destination. After eating, Mary Sue went into the kitchen with the Disibios to clean up and then out to what Nanna D called ‘the family room’ to sit next to Joe. He couldn’t stop looking at her with wide, dancing eyes; couldn’t help reaching out to comb through the ends of her hair or hold her hand, or stretch an arm around her, or rest his palm on her knee. She tired a bit, from so much social connection after years of stagnation, and a big carbohydrate loaded meal, and rested her cheek on his shoulder. That’s when Joe’s mother started digging in her purse.

“Aw, Jesus, Mom. No. Not the camera,” Joe begged.

“We don’t have any photos of you with Mary Sue. We didn’t have a camera and then...and you look just like when...except you need to get rid of the scruff on your face but…” Joe’s mother didn’t want to say her entire thought process and motivation out loud, but Joe could figure her out. She wanted a photo in case it was the last time. She didn’t even have a photo from the last ‘last time,’ and she didn’t want that to happen again. It was an insurance policy. Instead she continued to Mary Sue, “Joey and John got me this fancy camera last Mother’s Day and now they both lose their shit whenever I try and use it. It’s so nice, Mary. It shows you the pictures on this screen right after you take ‘em. And if somebody sneezed or blinked or somethin’, you can just delete it and take it over. A do-over. Ya didn’t useta get those with takin’ pictures. Lemme get one-a you with Joey there. Your pretty face. See if you can get ‘im to shave that beard...”

***

“Sure you don’t wanna go out?” Joe asked as he shrugged off his jacket inside Mary Sue’s apartment door upon his Tuesday night arrival.

“I’m actually pretty sick of going out.”

“Shit, you used to wanna go out as much as you could.”

“That was Old Mary Sue. Now I’ve been out. It’s all...not worth it. I’m excited to hang out with you here. Make dinner and just...have you here. I’d so rather be on the roof of your truck, pirating a live baseball game, than anything I’ve done out in the past four years.”

“I loved doing that with you. And Nanna D’s dinners. And working at the chili parlor. And just hanging out in Jen’s mom’s basement. Doing...nothing. But I thought you hated it.”

“I thought I did too, but I really loved it. That last guy? We always went out with some of his friends and they all told all these glory days stories about concerts and beach trips on spring breaks and ski trips on winter ones and shit. And they’d razz me until I eventually just stopped talking altogether because all my stories were sitting in someone’s car in a parking lot or sitting in someone’s basement or having dinner at someone’s house. Like connection didn’t count to them unless it was out in public for other people to see, spending money. But it dawned on me that they weren’t connecting doing any of that shit. It was stuff to buy and do with their time to feign or avoid connecting. They do stuff so they can say they did it to someone else. It’s like they don’t actually experience anything. They just go places to collect ticket stubs and take pictures to prove they were there. I miss just...being with you. Seeing you. I love talking on the phone with you and all, but now I just...wanna see you all the time.”

“I wish I could say that could be arranged, but I gotta work, and so do...you? I assume you’re working. Right? You gotta be to live here and not back with your folks, commuting. And you made quiche for dinner...”

“I get my grad school candidate/assistant professor’s stipend. That’s what pays for all the luxury you see,” she kidded. “And I don’t think I could move home. Like I don’t think Mom and Dad would...this was the goal of their life. For me to not live with them anymore. Right? Also, quiche is just scrambled eggs with cheese and chopped up leftovers baked in a grocery store frozen pie shell. All those country clubs and snooty restaurants with dress codes and shit are actually kinda cheaping out. Telling you. Rich people are cheap unless they think they’re impressing somebody by spending.”

Joe felt a little ache for her, talking about her parents not wanting her living back home. They’d never been as close as his family, and Mary Sue often tried to shield him from the darker parts of her life at home, but he knew enough to know there were dark parts. She liked to say how much her family loved her, but he was fairly certain she was saying it to convince herself it was real. They only showed up for her when she did something to fulfill some big expectation they had of her. Her family was the origin story of why she was always working so hard to prove herself; worthy, deserving, good, better, more. The only pleasure Joe ever saw her get from connection with her own family was when she did something they could point at and use to prove they were worthy, deserving, good, better, more, because they had to be if she did that thing; they made her, after all. He answered everything she’d said except that part, because he didn’t have an answer. “You joke, but you have an actual thermostat. I have steam heat and a window A/C unit. And maybe the ingredients are common, but I am damn near certain I’d fuck up a quiche. It kind of is luxury. And they’re paying you to go to school?!” he laughed, hoping for playful banter instead of heavy thoughts about her family.

“If you go to school long enough and are pretty good at it, they start paying you to go.”

“I’ve heard something like that about community college. Go long enough they make you the teacher. But...” He was relieved for the wisecracks, and took a seat at her tiny dining table and dug into his dinner as soon as she sat down too.

“Oh, it works that way with all college, actually. Just with a traditional university, you either have to develop an anxiety disorder trying to keep a scholarship, or shoulder like a hundred grand of debt for...most if not all of the rest of your life in order to get paid enough to live in this apartment.”

“So My Smarty Rice Chex won’t have the debt cloud because of the scholarship. And when the thesis is finally finished, then you’re a what?”

“Hopefully I get an associate professorship in American literature.”

“Associate Professorship. Professor Rice.”

“Doctor Rice. Just not that kind of doctor.”

“I’m prouda you. You really...did it.”

“Almost.”

“No, it’s gonna happen. Why would you...you sure you wanna...with me?”

“Joey. Of course I’m sure. I...um...are you...not sure about this?”

“I’m still kinda scared I’m not enough. I don’t have plans to become...anything more or better...than me.”

“Good. I like My Joe as is.”

“Before...”

“I was really really wrong before. I’m different now. I know what more and better is. I know if you want more and better, it’s not somewhere else. You can’t go out and find it. You make it at home.”

“That’s...something to say.” He wiped his hands and mouth on his napkin and smiled across the table at her.

“Told My Joe I was saying it now.”

“And you are.” She stood to clear dishes and clean up and he hovered around her to help, but she refused him.

“Just go...I dunno. I’ll clean up. And then I’ll come out and… You wanna...stay tonight?”

“That’s...wow, Rice Chex, you’re really saying it now,” he nervously chuckled from her sofa.

“You...don’t wanna…?” she stuttered with obvious disappointment and embarrassment.

“Oh, no. That’s not...I like...incredibly a lot want to. It’s just...I gotta go to work in the morning and you probably do too, and if I start...if we...uh...I can see me making some unwise decisions about tomorrow if I stay here tonight.”

“OK. Not tonight. I get it. I guess.”

“I honestly can’t even believe you asked,” he snickered.

“Well, fortune rewards the bold.”

“Is that what it does? What book’s that out of?”

“It’s an old Latin translation that’s been quoted all over the place for centuries. It’s probably in a few books. It means...”

“I know what it means. It means Mary Sue Rice ditches rides to tip street trumpet players and then asks them to spend the night with her.”

“And then she gets to talk to the trumpet player every day and see him a lot and has a little prospect off on the horizon in the distance that he’ll stay all night. Someday. Hopefully soon. Maybe someday he’ll even...just...never leave. Ever.”

“That’s bold alright.”

“Those are some impressive rewards.” He smirked at her, his ego inflated.

“Maybe someday, he will just never leave.”

“Maybe someday, he’ll get a house with me that has a carport or a garage to park Ol’ Cherry in and he’ll play La Vie En Rose on that trumpet at two o’clock some Saturday afternoon. And no one will care. Except her. She’ll care. She loves that song. She loves hearing him play it.”

“That sounds like a nice someday. Sounds like he’s getting the rewards for her being bold.”

“So? Maybe she thinks he deserves a lot more rewards than he gets. Maybe someday in that house, he’ll teach their kid to play La Vie En Rose on the trumpet at two o’clock some Saturday afternoon...”

“Alright on that one? No.”

“No?” The smarting letdown showed on her face until he diagrammed his reasoning.

“If I got lucky enough to have a someday that gives me ‘our kid?’ Our kid gets real music lessons. I’ll work two, three jobs if our kid wants to play music. So they can have real lessons. Learn how to read music. Sit right. Alla that.”

“Just because you didn’t get the formal education doesn’t make you...less...Joey. Believe me, I know without a doubt that formal education doesn’t make anybody more or better. That’s probably the most important thing I learned in college.”

“Formal education gets you options. If our kid wants to make a life outta music, formal education gives them that option. I’m not mad I didn’t get it. It wasn’t something my family...but...our kid will have that option. Our kid won’t have to drive a forklift. Or wait tables at the chili parlor. They can. But they can also be a college book professor or first chair at the Cincinnati Symphony playing...something. Or maybe they’ll play the trumpet in the Great Funk Revival of 2025 or something. You aren’t the only one who learned important stuff while you were in college.”

She’d finished in the kitchen, putting things away and wiping up mess, and joined him. She briefly thought of sitting on his lap but suddenly got shy. “You know...if there’s a someday where we get ‘our kid?’ I’m...I mean, part of that someday is that I’m a tenured literature professor. And that means...you wouldn’t have to work two or three jobs. You might not even have to work one.”

“What did I ever do to deserve that kinda someday?”

“You’re My Joe.” He shook his head and closed his eyes and threaded his fingers into her hair to kiss her. They reclined, him over her, a tangle of limbs and racing heartbeats. “If you’re not gonna stay, can I see you again tomorrow?” she daringly panted.

“You really…?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come over after work. I’ll bring over...”

“You. I’ll figure out food. Just bring over you. Your face. Your voice. Your hands. You.”

“I can do that.” He smiled, gratified and eased.

“And Thursday.” They adjusted to a more wholesome version of enmeshed with one another and she crinkled his tshirt in her fists, under his unbuttoned flannel shirt.

“Thursday I gotta bring something. Fried chicken from Guster’s? Burgers?”

“I don’t think I’ve had Guster’s fried chicken in...”

“Four years? Yeah, that’s Thursday then. Before you say Friday, I can’t. Will’s trying to collect some money to buy an engagement ring for his girl, so we’ve been...I promised like five Friday nights and two Saturday’s in the next six weeks. I can’t just...”

“Of course you can’t skip that. You can’t skip it for you. You have to play. I’ll be alright.”

“It’s not like we won’t see each other again. Right?”

“Right.”

***

“That smells so goooood,” Mary Sue moaned opening the door to Joe with hot fried chicken and biscuits.

“None of the college guys brought you Guster’s? None of them? Amateurs.” They each took seats and hungrily grabbed the food from the paper bag, devouring it with their eyes and noses before getting it into their mouths.

“They were amateurs,” she said as daintily as possible with a mouthful of chicken thigh. “But even if they would have known the ground they could gain with Guster’s fried chicken, they wouldn’t have brought it here. None of them have even been inside the apartment.”

“What?!” Joe nearly choked on his mashed potatoes.

“The only men who’ve been inside the apartment are my dad and Andy. I guess you can count Andy as a man now that he’s eighteen.”

“Didn’t you say you went out with whatsisface for like two years? He never came to your apartment? Ever? How’s that even possible?”

“I drove to his place and then we’d go out. He still lived at home with his parents. In a goddam mansion. Like, they would never call it a mansion, and his parents complained about the neighborhood and the upkeep on the house and shit, but like...it was a mansion, Joey. Six bedrooms, four baths, four car garage for three people. They had this...you know that cobalt blue blown glass chandelier over the information desk at the art museum?”

“Yeah...” Joe had been to the Cincinnati Art Museum about a hundred times; every time with Mary Sue. It was free with donation. Mary Sue put dollar bills in the box when she had them and counted found change when she didn’t. He loved the museum because it was one of her favorite places to be. Somewhere they could go and talk and be together and look at beautiful things people throughout history created without being expected to buy something with money they didn’t have.

“His house has a chandelier that big in the foyer. First of all they have a foyer and they call it a foyer without even thinking it’s strange they’re using the word foyer. But past that, they have this huge fucking crystal chandelier hanging in it. So the first time I go in there, I said, ‘Wow,’ out loud, because like...wow. Right? And Steven starts in on how much of a pain in the ass it is and they have to hire this specialty company to clean it twice a year. The cleaning bill was five thousand dollars. Just the cleaning bill. For the chandelier. Which they paid two of in a year. So that’s ten thousand dollars...”

“If I added up the vehicles of all my immediate family members, I think it’d still be less than ten grand.”

“Exactly. So I’m gonna invite that guy to my apartment? He shit on my car. He shit on my clothes...”

“Your clothes?! How…? You look...well you look like you don’t belong with a schmuck like me; that’s for sure...”

“You’re not a schmuck. He is though. He shit on taking me to the art museum. Both because it’s technically free and also because only nerds who are trying to hard to impress people actually go to museums. Liking and appreciating anything at all seemed to be a reason to make fun of me.”

“Your folks ever meet that guy?”

“No way! My place is nicer than their place!”

“But your parents...”

“’Whatever it takes to fit in there, Mary Sue. Make something of yourself...’”

“So they’re fine that you’re dating some dumb fucker who left you downtown without a ride as long as it means maybe someday you can live in a house that has a chandelier that costs more than my Nanna’s entire house? That’s...like...it’s pissing me off, Rice Chex.”

“I get it, obviously. It pisses me off too, but it’s...it’s not worth you getting...who cares? About...any of them? They don’t care about me. They think sending me into that world and making me feel shitty for ever coming back home is somehow the best thing they could have done for me. You’re here. You’d never leave me downtown. You’re...proud of me.”

“Of course I am. I think they’re all idiots for making you feel like...you feel. You don’t have anything to prove to me, Rice Chex. You never have, you know? I already knew in tenth grade you were better than all the rest of these shitheads.”

“I just wanna be good enough for you.”

“You passed that up a long time ago. You started out too good for me. That scares the shit outta me all the time I’m with you now.”

“You’re better than all the rest of those shitheads. I wasn’t smart enough to know that in tenth grade, but I know it now.” She licked the grease from her fingers and crumpled up a couple of napkins, turning abashedly away from him.

“Oh no, I brought dinner this time, I’m cleaning it up. It’s not even any work,” he said, crunching chicken bones and trash into the emptied bag and tossing it into her kitchen wastebasket. She remained at the dining table, her knees curled to her chest in the chair, closing herself in with folded arms, and staring again at the center of the table. “Hey,” he said, lifting her chin to look him in the eyes after he washed his hands at the kitchen sink. “I’ve never felt anything but lucky that you were ever a part of my life. You’ve done nothing but make my life better. With or without college. Whatever you drove. Wherever you lived. Even when we weren’t even… You’re My Rice Chex. And if somebody...anybody else thinks you need to...well, they’re just fucking wrong.”

“I really wish you were staying tonight.”

“I do too. I got a long day tomorrow though. Work then...y’know...”

“Yeah, I know. La Vie En Rose.”

***

Mary Sue flipped through endless basic cable channels, wholly dissatisfied with the offerings. She didn’t wish she was out; she wished Joe was in with her. Then it would cease to matter what was on television; even if it was all garbage, they’d have fun watching it together. Or not watching it together. She used to judge people she knew for moving in with partners too quickly. What if it didn’t work out? How can you trust them? Is the break in expenses really worth the potential future damage? But she wanted to ask Joe to live with her now, after what substantially amounted to a week together to anyone on the outside of what she was in. She didn’t care about what was on the outside anymore. She felt as though she’d spent her whole life on the outside, except with Joe. And the four years outside with him were more than enough for a lifetime. She wanted back in. She wanted in forever. She wanted to be inside, with Joe, forever. But right now, she accepted that he was out.

She closed her eyes and imagined him setting up on Main and 9th to play; his long legs and heavy boots sprawled wide, his shoulders touching the top of the flimsy chair back, slunk to the edge of the seat to camouflage his height, his feet stationed around the money. She saw those nimble hands holding the trumpet to those strong, soft lips to play. She sighed. She’d seen him play outside once, and for most of her observation she didn’t even know it was him, and she’d already tattooed the imagery of him into her head to study in fantasy. She loved his hands; she loved his lips; she loved those long legs; his shoulders; his everything. She returned to his fingers and lips. He really had such gorgeous lips; slender, powerful fingers. She wanted them on her now, but he was playing music now, so she reanimated the past. She rewound the goodbye kisses she’d received since the previous Friday night and then rewound further to when they’d gone further when they were younger. Joe was the only man Mary Sue ever wanted to touch her. She’d allowed others to, but they were always fumbling and hurried, and either coarse and stingy or too faint and fearful and delicate. Joe was her first and her best, which she knew was rare when it came to lovemaking, especially when first wasn’t also ‘only.’ But that was Joe. First and best and rare. Anyone could see the kind of lover he was if they paid attention to how he handled any instrument he played. Careful and relaxed and strong and gentle, but the best part of Joe was his instincts, fed by a keen ear. He listened. He saw. He paid attention. And without needing to read the notes and timing, he could expertly play all the songs she wanted to hear. She thought of their first time together and how careful he’d been without being faint and fearful and delicate. She thought of every time they were together. She lost herself for probably a few hours, in a nebulous liminal space between being awake and asleep, dreaming of Joe and his lips and his fingers and his legs and shoulders and voice, and the way he touched her and held her, and her thoughts were so lively and real, she could almost feel him there with her when he wasn’t.

She lunged for her phone. It startled her. She’d been fairly zoned out and nearly asleep on the couch with the television on. “Can I see you? I know it's late, but can I see you...tonight?”

“Where are you?” she chirped, full of butterflies that it was Joe. She began pacing in front of the couch, too wired from her reverie and hearing Joe’s voice to hold still any longer.

She started for her bedroom to find suitable attire for a date when she heard an abrupt knock on her door. She eyeballed the peephole. It was Joe on his cell phone. He looked great. More than great. Better than great. She looked terrible. She was watching Seinfeld reruns on cable in faded pink sweats and bunny slippers. She opened the door anyway. They simultaneously hung up their phones.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Been missing you. Come in, I guess. Even though I look like this now.”

“You look lovely,” he said, walking purposefully too close to her, making sure he touched her. “La Vie En Rose.”

“You're a liar.” She closed the door and started back to the living room.

“It's never mattered what you're wearing. You're still the best thing in the room to look at. Did you really miss me?” he said, facing her. He brushed her messy hair away from her face.

“Yes, I did,” she replied, pressing her hand over his on her cheek. She placed her other hand gingerly to the side of his face. “You shaved your beard,” she gratuitously stated. She skated over his newly smooth skin with her fingertips. He looked more familiar, like Her Joe, but somehow also brand new without the beard. He smelled good. She liked the way he smelled even straight from a day of warehouse work, because he was Her Joe, but this was a clean good. A freshly showered and shaved good.

“Better to see me with, my dear. Are you seeing anyone right now?” he needlessly asked.

“Just you.”

“I didn’t mean extremely literally...”

“I know. There’s just you. You’re the only...I haven’t had much luck seeing people.”

“I can't really understand that, actually. I don't understand why you're home on a Friday night. Home alone, anyway. You were out last weekend...”

“Well, it was stupid of me to be out last weekend. Stupid people. Stupid place...”

“I’m glad you were. You made it not a stupid place. If you’re there, it can’t be stupid. I missed you too, Rice Chex. Honestly thought I’d never see you again.”

“Here I am. You’re seeing a lot of me now. And I'm not home alone anymore. You're here, keeping me from falling asleep on the couch with my bunny slippers and my old sitcoms.”

“The bunny slippers are making it kinda hard to control myself.”

“You showing up here is making it hard to control myself. Was...was...thinking about you. A lot. Before you called.”

“Were ya now? I was thinking about you a lot while I was playing tonight. I wasn’t thinking about the bunny slippers though. Those are...man. I’d have probably made some sour notes or maybe even forgotten where I was if I knew about those,” he kidded. “What were you thinking about me?”

“How much I love your lips.” He blushed, and a rascally, open mouthed smirk painted his face. He quite deliberately ran his tongue across his lips. “And you’re...you look like...never seen you look like this before.” He was wearing what seemed to be a tailored three piece suit, still no tie, though. And classic wingtips, shined to a high gloss. And a thick leather strap over one shoulder.

“You like it?”

“I mean...yes. It’s probably...similar to your bunny slippers problem.”

“I can clean up. Wanted to show you I can look like I belong...with you. Wherever you go.”

“Did you wear...this...to play with...you wore this out to play on the street?”

“No. I wore this to come see My Rice Chex.”

“What's that for?” She nodded suspiciously toward the instrument case slung over his shoulder. She felt her face flush and her body hum. Just being that close to Joe was arousing, but he’d purposefully come for her. With the guitar. The extravagant, wasteful, impractical...romantic...guitar.

“You're gonna suck all the romance out of this, huh?” he playfully asked as he took the guitar out.

“Watch how loud you strum that thing. I live an apartment just like you, you know. We’re not out on the corner of Main and 9th right now.” She attempted a stern scolding but it came out in a nervous, thrilled chime. “Tell me, do you think it'd be alright,” he began singing, quietly, just as she asked. “If I could just crash here tonight? You can see I'm in no shape for driving, and anyway, I've got no place to go. And you know, it might not be that bad. You were the best I ever had. If I hadn't blown the whole thing years ago, I might not be alone...” He could tell she wanted to say something, so filled with unusual optimism, he just played and stopped singing.

“You’re here. You’re here and I can’t believe you’re singing to me and...”

He started singing again, “The past is gone, but something might be found to take it's place, Hey Jealousy!”

“Joey, please,” she said over his quiet guitar playing.“Stop.” She stretched her fingers over his guitar strings, making the notes go flat.

“I thought about this every day since last Friday night. Every time I hear this song, I think about you. Practically since fucking 1992 when it came out, even though you didn’t even kiss me until 1995. I really miss you.”

“This is the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me. I mean, except for last Friday. Which was you too. I’m the one who ruined everything...selfish and short-sighted and...fucking...” She shook her head at herself because she was unable to come up with the right Future Literature Professor synonym for ‘uppity asshole.’

“We'll make it work this time.” He carefully placed the guitar back in its case and reached out for her hand with confidence.

“It's late. And I messed up so bad then. And you're so...way too good for me now...”

“What?! Uneducated hometown boyfriend here. You’re about to become a university literature professor and you got real furniture and glass glasses and shit in your apartment...”

“From IKEA...”

“Still. You DO have more. And better. Like...that was...correct...and...Rice Chex I think you got everything backwards here. But that’s fine. Be backwards. We can still make it work. It'll be different now that you're almost out of school and you’re...here. You’re choosing...me. On purpose. I won't have anything to be jealous about.”

“You weren’t jealous.”

“I was. You were right. I was jealous and scared I’d lose you, so I just went and made sure it happened. Like a fool.”

“Well, you were right too, though. You were right first, actually. I was ashamed. Of my family, where I came from, of the school I went to, my situation...of myself...like...why do you always have to be RIGHT?” she asked after a long, cumbersome lull. He smiled and rested his forehead against hers.

“To piss you off.”

“Well you are SO good at it. Still!” He cracked a bigger smile.

“Rice Chex, let me ask you something...”

“OK. Go ahead.”

“If I woulda sang 'La Vie En Rose' instead....”

“Oh, I’d have gone right to bed with you,” she teased.

“You hurt me,” he replied with humor and sarcasm in his voice, but sincerity in his heart. He closed his eyes in a deliberate blink and flinched a little, like he was really taking a hit, but kept smiling.

“Hey?” She elbowed him softly in the ribs.

“Yes, Miss Rice?” He returned her familiar with counterfeit formality.

“You can crash here tonight.”

“You gonna go to bed with me anyway?” he chuckled.

“Yeah. Unless that was just...exaggerated musical romance.”

“I definitely meant it. You’re not ashamed to tell people you’re with a warehouse worker-slash-street performer? That he’s your high school flame? From your working class neighborhood? Roping you into an ordinary life that might end up right back where you started?”

“Of course not. I’m not ever gonna be ashamed again of what makes me happy. Of what I love.”

“You love me?”

“Always have.”

“I love you too, Rice Chex. Always have. But what about me could make you happy?”

“You see me.”

[tyqui11]

Back 2 Brooklyn

06/19/2024

Damn wazzam! It’s been too long world.

Been awhile since I blogged!? Where do I even start to explain how life has been.

I mean honestly I been in survival mode since the infamous year of 2020. During these tremulous times I haven’t had much creativity or any urges to write up anything. I find myself Leaning more towards vlogging in this new era of quick content. NGL I would say Vlogging is definitely the new wave, But there’s something about the power of words that fulfills me with that sense of gratification. I’d Like to think of it as a time stamp in the journal that is my life.

The year 2024 has low key been a hell of a year! Being the hip hop head that I am, we witnessed possibly the biggest chain of events in rap battle history! 2 of the biggest and best rappers of this generation going head to head for that proverbial rap crown, KDOT vs Drizzy was something we won’t soon forget. Ain’t gonna lie I most definitely had a horse in the race lol that was thee King Kendrick Lamar. Kung fu Kenny’s artistry as not just a musician, but a creative is unmatched. Hence this blogs point of interest leading us to Juneteenth 2024. This years Juneteenth just so happened to be the same day as the Kenny and friends pop out show!? Coincidence!?…It was almost as if KDOT the rap prophet and the hip hop culture as a whole won the rap civil war, all with the unity and pride of celebrating FUBU (For Us By Us) all puns intended.

Hella excited, I was also set to reconnect with someone I haven’t hung out with in probably over 6 years. Whom might you ask was the link up? None other than the infamous Shizz. My Muse, My 1st Love, the 1 that got away Shawn…she’s HER. With both of us relocating from Philly, (Me to NC) and She (PDX to the BK) was within my arms reach closer than she’s been in years. Which was pretty wild because all imma say is…it’s funny how GOD works these types of things out.

Now you might ask. What does any of this have to do with each other!? Shizz invited me to a Mesego Concert which just so happens to be on the same day as the KDOT Pop out!? And I ain’t gonna hold you, ya Boy was definitely trying to (get to the yams). I was feeling a lot of things TBH…anxiety, reluctancy, and regret just to name a few but mainly apprehension…as Kendrick Lamar-Growing Apart (To Get Closer) cues in my playlist.

Upon arrival in Brooklyn, heading up the elevator to HER apartment floor was pretty nerve wracking to say the least. Mind racing I quieted the storm that was my intrusive thoughts. I had to get my shit together and remind myself to just be me…that’s always good enough. As the elevator climbed floor by floor the more nervous I got. I’m here…as she met me at the door, I was thinking to myself while she talked with her oh so stoic tone (she was as beautiful as I remembered HER). It’s funny because she hates that I zone out when she talks, but what she doesn’t know is that whenever I do, I’m admiring her in real time lol. Awkwardness aside the 1st 5 min was…interesting. We had to feel each other out…get to know each other all over again. But this go around I was introduced not only to the Brannew HER but also to her energetic and overprotective Dog Copper (Her labradoodle). Initially growling at me, it wouldn’t be long before he took a liking to me! To be honest I think he could sense that I had pure intentions with HER so we hit it off pretty quick. He liked me so much that on the 1st night I stayed, he didn’t leave my side lol. Even when Shizz called him to be by HER’s, Copper stayed with me. Is it safe to say that was a Good sign so far or nah!? Shiiid I’d like to think so…I also admired how protective he was with HER in my absence. Good Dog Copp.

Today’s the day…Heading out to the event, my subconscious was wildly reminiscent. Heart racing I was almost in disbelief that I was actually sitting across from HER as we hitched a ride in the Uber. As we rode along a few friends called to check up on me. Playing in her Hair, I reassured the homies that I was ok. It gave us a bit more comfort-ability with each other. Good to know that She still responds to my intimacy. We vibed…then before you know it we arrived. I peeped the scene and I gotta say, it was almost indescribable. It was like the perfect time of day. The hour golden as the sun shined on all these dope ass individuals in cohesion with the same goal in mind, championing the feeling of freedom. The best Juneteenth I’ve probably ever partook in! A celebration for our ancestors from our people. After toning down my admiration I set my sights on HER. I was in Awe…The Sun shined on Shizz as if Oshun herself was standing before me. She was stunning…right then and there old feelings flooded back into my heart while we vibed out to the music in what seemed like just US in a crowded venue full of people. It was as if nobody was around us…all I saw was HER. It was Perfect…we Danced. Eyes closed, my head tilted opposite of HER exposed Neck. She welcomed me without saying a word. It seemed like our rhythm was more in sync than we had ever been in before…we just Danced. Time stood still for a moment, A calming yet understanding silence. At times no words were needed to be said…same as with the rest of this Blog.

Moral of the story…”What’s Understood Doesn’t always need an explanation” it is what it is.

We just lived in that moment, I mean who really knows if it would be the 1st of a new chapter or the last in the book that is our years long relationship. They say communication save relations, I can tell but I can never right my wrongs unless I write them down forreal…as Kendrick Ft Drake (Poetic Justice) cues in my playlist.

From Brooklyn, with LOVE

Good talking to yall and HER…Again

See yall soon, Sincerely Tyquill