#also imagine how shitty it is not being able to pull the ‘I am a war veteran’ card bc technically he isn’t?

[acediaedeus]

do you ever wonder whether Ichigo had dreams as a kid? did he ever lay in bed, after being tucked in by his loving mother, and imagine his future? and do you ever think about Ichigo, right after his youth, spent being a weapon of war, has ended? about him coming home after a tiring day, filled with what is, in comparison, trivial human matters, and just sitting there for a moment? and then coming to bed and trying very hard to not imagine anything at all? do you? because I don’t!

[sevikaskittygf]

good luck, babe! [e.w x fem!reader.]

chapter one.

author's note!<3 - this is inspired by chappell roan's unreleased song good luck, babe! i lllloooovveee chappell roan! this was originally going to be just a LONG ASS one-shot but i don't think i can write any more tonight 😭😭 . BUT I REALLY WANNA PUBLISH IT SO HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS LIKE IT!!!! also forgive me if there's any grammar/spelling errors... i'm posting this at 12:59 am🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶 . reblogs and comments are SO appreciated!!! i busted my ass for y'all 🤗 .

content warnings - SLIGHT angst, reader has internalized homophobia and is outright homophobic to ellie, reader is in the closet, ellie is a lovergirl and she's going through the five stages of grief, modern!au, reader gets sexually assaulted/harrassed, LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING ELSE!!!!

special thanks to!!!!: @sharkfemme and @dykedearest FOR HELPING ME OUT!!!!!! and also LYNN AND MAXIM!!! ALL FOUR OF YOU ARE AMAZING BETA READERS I'M KISSING YOU ALL THROUGH THE PHONE RN!!!

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

it's fine, it's cool.

ellie's grip on her glass got impossibly tighter as her eyes never left your figure, your body swaying to whatever shitty mainstream pop music that was playing.

ellie williams hated secrets. she hated surprises, and she hated being in love with you.

she hated the way you would ghost her after spending a week at her apartment. she hated the way you would stop responding to her texts after you would leave. she hated the way she would let you back in when you needed her, she hated how much she loved to comfort you. she hated how gentle you were when it was just the two of you, compared to how cruel you got in public.

you can say that we ain't nothin' when you know the truth.

ellie took her hand off the glass and gripped the bar table instead, afraid that if she broke another glass she'd be banned from the bar.

you were like forbidden fruit to her, or maybe that was what she was to you.

she knew you weren't ready to come out of the closet. she understood that. so, why keep on playing this fucking game with her?

why did she even still feed into it?

i guess i'm, the fool.

the closet was made out of glass, really. you would stare at every woman's body that passed you, your eyes would scan up their short dress, she could see the curiosity and desire in your face.

but every single time after you two would hook up, there was always a new excuse.

"i'm not a fucking lesbian, ellie. i just... don't like men sometimes." sometimes?

"they're just stupid thoughts... it's not like i could ever be with a woman." but you had been. you had been with her.

"ok but... do you even count as a woman? you wear boxers, you don't even know the meaning of the term ladylike and... i don't know- look at your fuckin' hair! the closest you'd get is a transwoman." that one had hurt her. she didn't talk to you for a month after you made that comment. and then you appeared in her apartment complex hallway, sobbing hysterically.

and of course, she took you back.

like she always does.

with her arms out like an angel, through the car sun-roof.

she hated playing this fucking game with you. it was killing her.

every single time she'd see you at this bar, she imagined you dragging her onto the dancefloor. she imagined being able to walk out with your hand in her's, waking up to your groggy groans when the sun invaded the sacred space of your shared bedroom, you'd hide your face in her neck, mumbling something about, "shouldn't have drank that much last night."

every single time you pulled this shit on her, it felt like her already shattered heart broke off into impossibly tinier pieces.

"i wish you were a boy." crack.

"it's not easy for me like it is for you, els. i don't know the first thing about being proud of myself." crack.

"this hurts me more than you, baby." shattered. her heart was shattered.

it hurts you more than her?

the fucking audacity.

the nights she spent crying next to your sleeping figure.

the hours she'd spent texting you and checking her phone second after second after goddamn second.

the way she would ignore every single obligation she had to pick you up from whatever shit-hole situation you had found yourself in, immediately and happily dropping anything to make sure you were ok.

and it hurt you more than it hurt her?

you didn't know shit about hurt. about misery. about love.

i don't wanna cut it off!

her friends had told her to cut you off. her therapist said in his own professional shrink way that you would never be good for her. at least not while you weren't even good for yourself.

but she couldn't let you go. it seemed like every reason that she had to leave you, fuelled her determination to stay.

but you don't wanna call it love!

every single time you somehow broke her heart in a new way, she fell harder in love with you.

you just wanna love someone that calls you baby!-

ellie was pulled out of her internal anger when your eyes met hers. although it was only a few seconds ago, it felt like she was staring into your eyes for an eternity.

don't fuckin' wave, ellie. look away- LOOK AWAY. , she thought to herself as she was unable to look away from your beautiful irises.

you had this slight smile on your face, the dancefloor's led lights adding a shimmer to your already twinkling eyes.

it felt like her melancholy thoughts had lifted and increased all at the same time by the sight of you acknowledging her presence.

ellie went against her better judgement, her slender hand flying up to wave at you. her lips quirked upwards gently as she scanned your delighted face.

your light expression quickly turned into one of frustration, suppressing your grin with a tightening of your lips before pulling the nearest man close to you in for an unexpected kiss, opening your eyes once you knew the mystery man's were closed, locking your eyes onto ellie's before closing them once more.

the light had died in ellie's stomach after that. her happy hand that was raised in the air faltered painfully back to her side as she watched the man's hands roam down from your sides... to your waist... to your ass.

you can kiss a hundred boys in bars,

those butterflies that she had just felt in her tummy had died slowly, turning into knots of anguish.

she watched your hands cradle the man's face. those same hands that had counted each and every freckle on her face on a snowy morning that had you both stranded in her apartment.

those same hands that had a death-grip on her back as you sobbed into her shoulder every other weeknight as she tried to muffle her own cries.

those same hands that had shoved her violently as she finally tried to stand her ground one afternoon you showed up knocking on her door. "you know what... fuck you, ellie! i don't know why i keep on doing this shit with you anyways." you said, before storming off. you called her later that night. she answered. "i'm sorry, els. i'm sorry, i'll do better, i'm so sorry-" , "it's ok, baby. it's ok. i know you didn't mean it. you're ok baby, i forgive you."

shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling!

she would've stayed in that seat, stewed in her anger for a bit more before the tears inevitably came falling down if it wasn't for the way the dude's hands creeped under your skin-tight jeans and how you flinched away from his grasp, breaking the kiss immediately with a nervous giggle creeping up.

the guy obviously took it as an invitation to do more, placing his hand back on your waist and agressively pulling you closer.

you can say it's just the way you are,

ellie's head tilted as she watched this go down.

what she wanted to do was launch that creep into the nearest wall and make sure he never tainted your body again. but she didn't want to get up too soon, she wanted to be certain that you needed help, whether you wanted it or not.

your hand stopped him from coming any closer, placing it right before his chest. you said something along the lines of, "don't want to do anything." .

make a new excuse, another stupid reason-

instead of him being a decent human being and leaving you alone, his face quickly turned into one of anger. his jaw jutted out as he tried to pull you in again, leaving you thrashing against his body.

how was no one else seeing this? why was no one else doing anything?!

she didn't even have time to process what she was about to do. her feet were on the ground, marching their way towards you before she could even think about her course of action in a smart way.

"let me go, fuckin' creep!" she heard you shriek as she grew closer to you, attempting to elbow him in the chest.

ellie felt like no matter how fast she was walking, she would never make it to you in time.

he laughed tauntingly as he grinded against. "i'm the creep, bitch?! you kissed me f-"

his last word was stolen from him as ellie forcefully pushed him off you with and landed a blow against his nose.

he groaned in pain, falling to the ground as he cradled his now-broken-nose.

you gasped in shock and horror. "what the fuck, ellie?!" you scolded her. as if you would've been fine on your own.

she ignored your words though, pulling the guy's hand away as she forced another punch to his face.

now people were finally looking.

she didn't stop until she felt your hands on her stomach, pulling her away from the scene.

"she fuckin'... said... no!..." ellie's voice thundered, erratic breaths in between her words before bringing one last painful kick to his face before letting you lead her out of the bar and into the night air.

you didn't stop even after you two were at the entrance door of the establishment, you made sure the two of you were far enough away that ellie wouldn't be caught if the police were called.

she couldn't help but feel those stupid fucking butterflies again as your hand gripped hers and felt a little disappointed when you dropped it, suddenly all too aware that you were still in public.

her green eyes met your own, yours filled with anger and chaos... hers filled with love.

"hey, swan." the auburnette sighed out simply, that stupid love-grin back on her face as she was finally close to you.

your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as your hands went to massage your temples. you let out a humorless giggle. "you're so... fucking stupid, ellie!" you exclaimed, shoving her chest as if she was in the wrong.

her grin turned into a confused frown as she surrendered her hands in the air, her eyebrows mirroring your own now. "wh-wh....what-"

good luck, babe!

"god, you have this severe goddamn saviour complex or some shit!... i was fine! i was fucking fine on my own before you marched in and assaulted that guy."

well good luck, babe!

you gaslighted beautifully, defending the man you knew nothing about over the woman who was fatally in love with you, she almost believed you.

ellie's frown turned into an angry smile as she brought a hand to gently wipe over the bridge of her nose, a mannerism of her's she had developed whenever she got frustrated with you.

"assau-... ok, sure-... you wanna talk about assault, baby? that fuckin' guy would've assaulted you if i didn't step in. he was assaul-"

you shut your eyes tightly the way you do when you wanted to block something out that ellie was obviously right about. you shook your head stubbornly. "gggoddd ellie- it was my fault! i wanted it and then i didn't. i shouldn't have- i shouldn't have kissed him in the first place. i gave him mixed signals, i-"

you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling!-

your eyebrows grew dangerously closer to your face as you cradled your head in your hands.

ellie was quick to walk right back to you, caressing your arms.

"what? baby, no. no, it's not your fault... that- that fuckin' guy... hey... look at me, sweetheart." she cooed lovingly.

good luck, babe!

you slowly brought your hands away from your face, meeting her breathtaking green eyes.

you wanted to fall into her arms, you wanted to thank her for coming to your rescue and kiss her and confess to her how scared you truly were.

but you didn't. you never did.

your slightly calm expression that came over you once you met your secret lover's gaze turned into one of annoyance. ellie was, like always, taken by surprise as you thrashed against her grip, just like the way you did with that monster in the bar.

good luck, babe!

ellie's eyes blurred with tears as she watched your face turn into a grimace.

"fuck you, ellie." you said quietly as you broke free from her hands, storming off into the night. leaving her. like always.

you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

[camilaxmartin]

Can you do a Peggy carter fic where reader has insomnia and it’s to the point they don’t sleep at all and Peggy was getting suspicious, so one night she stayed up and found out reader doesn’t sleep and helps us little by little. The rest is up to you (p.s I LOVE ur fics❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥😭)

a/n.1: first and formal, THANK YOUUU you don’t even know what your words mean to me every time i get them from someone😭🩷 plus i am having a shitty time lately about my writing so yeah-

rest, darling

navigation / rules / masterlist

summary: *request*

warnings: not proof read! feeling shitty lately so this might be shitty as well lol

notes: hope i didn’t disappoint you tho (also this is my first time writing for peggy so be lenient!!)

requests: open!! (see rules)

peggy crumbled in her bed as her eyes couldn’t leave the small string of light under the door to your bedroom signalling that you’re still not asleep and obviously far away from it. she sighed as her eyes shut closed trying her best to make herself sleep yet it seemed, like that small stupid light was haunting her even when here eyes were closed. she groaned softly under her breath as she rolled the blanket over her face to get some rest yet the light now seemed to bother her even more as a small lamp appeared in her imagination and didn’t seem like leaving soon. with force peggy threw the blanket away from her face as well as her body and grumpily sit up on your bed wiping her face with her hand as she looked at the clock. 3.00 am. great.

she grabbed the blanket unconsciously again and pulled it all over herself making it into a home-made rope. her eyes closed at the comfort of it but she quickly shook it off as she stood up and lazily stumbled over to the door making more light enter the dark atmosphere of your bedroom. peggy left the room and slowly walked into the saloon where she find you sitting at the kitchen counter with a glass of some liquid she couldn’t fully comprehend in your hand, staring emptily into space before you.

she huffed softly seeing your state and walked over to you, wrapping her arms right alongside with the blanket around your body from behind. you left a soft gasp, feeling her closeness but it quickly turned into a hum as you closed your eyes nuzzling into her. peggy hummed as well and rested her chin on your shoulder as she tightened the grip around you more.

“darling,” she started softly yet sternly as her eyes never left your face, roaming every inch and taking in your every small expression.

you hummed at her words as your eyes stayed closed partly not wanting to see her hard gaze but also not wanting to leave that comfortable and warm embrace she’s brought up to you. “yeah?”

“it’s 3 am” she whispered this time as her face nuzzled into your shoulder more, the blanket wrapping around you even more closely now.

“i know” you whispered and uncontrollably rolled your still closed eyes at her, the gesture not going unnoticed by the girl of your heart.

“and you” she highlighted as her tone got even more stern. “should be in bed by now” she added quickly with a sigh her face squinting softly in worry.

you sighed at her words and opened your eyes, being immediately met with her big brown ones, staring deep into your soul. “i can’t sleep” you said and her brows burrowed. “so i decided to get myself a cup of tea” you added as your eyes slowly drifted away from hers, her own catching onto that as well.

peggy huffed and moved away from your shoulder a bit to be able to look at your face more carefully. you almost whined at the lost contact yet thankfully your senses weren’t so tired to let you let out that sound. peggy tilted her head a bit while observing you carefully her eyes narrowing just so slightly. “you’re not sleeping for god knows how long since the four days i’ve been at your apartment and i don’t even want to think about how many times before that” she huffed slightly and then let out a sigh as one of her hands went to gently grab your chin making you look at her. “you need to rest” she said through gritted teeth as her eyes never left yours.

you sighed deeply and closed your own eyes not wanting to see her worried and disappointed look. “i know” you mumbled again, as you unconsciously bit your cheek from the inside. “it’s just… it’s been pretty hard lately, my minds been running and i just-“ you cut yourself off as peggy’s eyes narrow even more with even more worry filling them as she waited for you to finish your sentence. “when i keep myself busy it’s easier” you added in a mutter with a deep sigh following it.

peggy’s lips twitched at the sound of your voice as her grip on your chin tightened. your eyes flipped open at her grip and met her almost instantly. “i… i’ve noticed it’s getting bad” she said with a sigh of her own as her eyes roamed all over your face now slowly going down to your lips from time to time. “but that’s not the way to go. you need rest.” she cooed and tilted her head to the side lightly, her eyes full of nothing but worry.

“but i-“ you said but peggy quickly put one of her fingers onto your lips, stopping your next rambling and whatever it was that you wanted to say. you looked at her a bit surprised but also curious as what she was about to say more.

“you need rest” she said sternly as her eyes focused on yours. “and i’m not talking about just making you go to sleep. we can take it slow” she cooed again as the fingers on your chin started to slowly stroke your skin there. “we can just lay down and talk while we cuddle and try to make your body relax and get closer to falling asleep” she continued as her eyes moved down to your lips again. her gaze softening slightly, her mind visibly going to some other places. “and i can pamper you up with kisses” peggy added with a small chuckle as her eyes found yours again.

your lips immediately twitched at her words and your gaze softened as well. “oh is that so now?” you asked tilting your head for as much as her hand on your chin allowed it. peggy nodded her head slowly, staring your lips again.

“yes” she whispered and leaned in softly, pressing a quick and soft kiss onto your lips. you wanted to give it back but she pulled away too fast for that. she smiled herself seeing your attempt as her hand hold you in place. “now, can we go to bed?” she asked and her eyes went a bit wide realising how that sounded when the words left her lips.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at that, peggy immediately rolling her lips and smirking at her own slip up. “and what exactly did you have in mind?” you ask, nuzzling into her hand more. she’s scoffed but decided to play into your little game… somehow.

“well…” she started, her voice deeper and huskier than before, you could feel her breath on your lips that was making your body warm up slowly. “we will roll you up in some blankets and make you lay down next to me, while i stroke your skin softly and talk endlessly about stuff to make you fall asleep” she added with a chuckle, her voice changing to a gentle and smooth one again.

you rolled your eyes at her cheeky attempt and scoffed yet couldn’t control the smile hearing once again how deeply she cared for you and your well being. “not exactly what i was hoping for, but-“ you started and a chuckle softly interrupted you. “but i think that’s a good idea” you finished softly and the smile creeping onto peggy’s face was everything that it took to make you want to try to fall asleep again, only to be able to watch that smile forming again.

“let’s get you warm then” peggy smiled wider and leaned in to kiss your lips again, giving you time to actually kiss her back this time as her hand left your chin and wrapped around your neck to keep you close. you sighed into the kiss at that and wrapped your own arms around her waist, not wanting her to let go off you anytime soon. peggy smirked into the kiss and gently nibbled at your lower lip as she pulled at it softly while leaning away. your face immediately turned into a pout when she did lean away, and she couldn’t help but chuckle.

“darling, that’s not the kind of warm i meant. get up, we’re going to bed” she said as she leaned away from you fully, getting out of your arms and taking away the blanket from you. you shivered when the cold air hit you again and followed her immediately like a lost puppy, hoping for more kisses before the torture that was about to come which was falling asleep.

peggy leaded you into your bedroom, switching the kitchen light finally and making your bedroom cover in darkness fully. she made her way over to your bed and sat down, patting a spot next to her for you to join her. you snorted softly at her gesture but went with it anyway, as you slowly stumbled over to your bed as well, sitting down close to her.

peggy smiled seeing your face in the dark as much as she could with her eyes not being used to it yet, and wrapped her hand around your cheek this time, stroking your soft skin there. that simple gesture made you nuzzle your face into her hand and close your eyes purely out of instinct. peggy hummed at that softly and put her other hand on your other cheek. “lay down, darling” she cooed gently and you had no other choice as to listen to her.

while not wanting to loose her touch you slowly moved further into the bed and laid down. peggy sensing your resistance, moved quickly with you her hands following your face immediately as she laid down with you and stared at your face. her hands kept on stroking your skin as her eyes kept looking into yours. she smiled noticing how your eyelids started to fall slowly, her movements getting even more gently.

“that’s it, you’re safe” she whispered as her eyes flickered over to your body and then immediately looked around for some blanket. one of her hands left your face and grabbed the one she was covered in before, throwing it over the both of you. she wrapped that arm around your waist, brining you closer to her and almost bumping your nose with hers. you giggled softly at the motion and moves your own hands under your chin to make yourself comfortable. peggy smiled even more at that, her arm around your waist tightening. “it’s alright. you can rest your mind now, i’m thinking for you now” she kept whispering her words slowly blending into nonsense in your head as you actually felt sleep coming over you. your eyes fell shut and peggy couldn’t help but chuckle at that as well, as her hand on your cheek kept on stroking. “it’s okay, i’m here, you’re safe, i’ll take care of you” she kept on going and going with more sweet-nothings as she felt your body going more still and relaxed with every second. you wanted to respond, tell her that she can feel safe with you as well and that you’re so grateful for her but your mouth didn’t seem like listening to your brain anymore. you nuzzled into her body more, unconsciously sliding her hand off of your cheek as you hummed satisfied. peggy’s heart melted at the sight as her arm around your waits pulled you closer to her even more. she rested her head on top of yours and sighed.

“i love you” she whispered but to be fair it could be your imagination playing tricks on you in that moment looking at the state you were in. she hummed to herself as her chin slowly moved against your scalp. “and i’m always going to look out for you. i will never let anyone hurt you. even including yourself” and that was the last ting you suppose you heard from peggy’s lips, before your like shut off completely and let the well deserved peace of sleep take over.

[patheticpeoplesupreme]

Alternate ending where SQH presses the return home button after yelling at MBJ + I somehow turned it into a slightly happier ending(this was supposed to end with SQH being alone till he dies)(bro never moves on)

but in this oneshot, he becomes a part of the Shen family.

Mobei-Jun mourning SQH’s body… imagine…

The moment he presses on the button, he felt his heart sink with the glow surrounding him.

He was going back to his body, which was equivalent to dying. Turning to his icy surroundings, light snow falling onto the tip of his fingers, his knees unbuckle as he fell to the floor.

“I—“

—

He regrets it, he really does. He shoud have just stayed in the other world. There, at least he knows how to escape the life he had, he knows people who would care about him even if he had run away (at least, he hoped so?)

here, there was no one. His parents didn’t care about him, they’d already moved on with new families in their lives. They hadn’t even bat an eye when they found out his body was a coma.

Shang Qinghua shivered in his hospital bed, tears slipping down his cheeks, he couldn’t even let out a sound.

It was cold. It was empty. His arms were bandaged heavily, they’d told him that he had severe burns because of the fact that there was hot water when it happened.

He couldn’t write; Proud Immortal Demon Way had already ended. He… just really…lacked the motivation to ever write again. Without his most passionate fan, without his king or his martial siblings… it’s unbearable. Losing the trust of everyone he knew was heart breaking enough, but they— they had forgiven him for his final moments.

They’d let him back into the sect—! Liu Qingge had grinned at him, after all that. Mu Qingfang allowed him to nap in the medical room whenever things got too hectic—heck! Yue Qingyuan visited his peak for friendly conversation and tea!

Shang Qinghua had given all of that up, and for what???

He didn’t know any more….

Haaa…. His anxiety and fear had gotten the best of him.

There was no Cucumber bro to critique his 3000+ chapter novel, there were no ice kings to force him to stop working in the middle of the night because of his health.

It was just him. Just Luo Meihua. The useless idiot.

A mistake he made, and he will never ever be able to see his family again.

Shen Qingqiu was right, Shang Qinghua was an idiot.

—

“Hey..” A quiet feminine voice pulls him out from the grasp of sleep, his heavy eyes open wearily as he tries to focus on the new figure. It wasn’t one of those nurses. The girl was wearing a very blue casual outfit, blue sweater, blue jeans, and even a blue purse.

….?

He squinted. Did he know her..??

He knew this wasn’t one of his half siblings, they were much younger than he was. “Hh….” He tried hard to say something, but a year of unuse made it hard to say the right words.

“It’s okay! Uhm, you don’t need to speak! I’m sure you’re wondering who I am?”

Shang Qinghua nodded minutely.

“My name is Shen Yang. Do you remember the story you wrote?”

He grimaced, giving her a pained look, he knew by now how shitty it was, please don’t make him talk about it??? I mean, there was some good parts but if he could, he wouldn’t have made A Ding as the sole logistics peak!!!

Wait.. “Shen..?”

She laughs slightly, mistaking his question for something else, “Mm, my brother was Peerless Cucumber, he went into a coma like you did, one year ago. If you knew him, anyway. He hated your novel.”

No wonder she looked familiar—!

But.. huh…? How did she know he was in a coma? How did she know he was here.

He tried to convey that to her with his raised eyebrow.

“We… uhm. Originally, we wanted to personally talk to you, since… we found A—Yuan’s notes in his computer. It was more critiques about the novel,” Shang Qinghua stifled a fond laugh, Ahh, Cucumber bro… “…and so… we found out you were in a coma, just like my brother.”

—

Shen Family: finds out Airplane is in a coma and they visit him once

Shen Yang is also a volunteer at the hospital, just so she can visit Shen Yuan more often. So occasionally, she watches Airplane’s coma body, wondering what kind of person he was to write PIDW

sometimes she writes and reads it out to Shen Yuan because she knows he loved stories, even if they sucked

When Airplane wakes up and they both realise he has no home anymore,

(“Your parents..?”

Shang Qinghua shook his head and laughed bitterly, “it’s not like they visited me at all.”)

So she persuades her parents to let him stay at the house (they refuse at first, like, airplane’s a stranger, and they’re still mourning Shen Yuan)

But eventually, they pittied him and allowed him to stay.

(“I promise I’ll pay you back, thank you so much for your kindness!!!”)

After all his trauma, he becomes the quiet kid, no silly rambles, and without any system forcing him on any missions, he becomes so so antsy, so he just takes on a lot of responsibilities and becomes sick and is super miserable until Shen Family takes an intervention

Eventually they get attached to SQH and help him get therapy. And it doesn’t actually help much, he couldn’t talk about his transmigration trauma at all

BUT he admits the little things, like his parents’ emotional neglect and accidentally mentions something like “I’m used to getting beat up. I’m used to everyone pushing their work onto me.”

Which is concerning in modern society,, like,,, why is he used to getting beat up 3 times a day

Bro just really hates himself

But one day, maybe after a few long months, the light in his eyes return and he gets into a rant again and Shen Yang just remembers his brother, Shen Yuan, and sees him in SQH and

man

Shen Yang shares stories about his brother to SQH

(“He sucked at sewing.” )

( “Shut up, Airplane… Sewing is harder than it looks.” Shen Qingqiu glared at him.)

[hongism]

29 - s.mingi - punishment + dacryphilia (18+)

» s.mingi x fem!reader » pwp, 18+ » language, mentions of drinking/smoking, explicit smut » wc 8.1k » link to masterlist » repost now that tumblr solved my tagging issues! fingers crossed everything works as normal now 🤞

smut warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, manual stimulation, oral sex: m, unprotected sex, facial, creampie, dirty talk, pet names: baby/baby girl/princess, crying during sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, edging, orgasm control, overstimulation

“So, you ever gonna tell me where you were last Tuesday?”

You can’t say that you weren’t expecting the question to come eventually, especially after you left Mingi with such a shitty excuse about not being able to meet up, but you expected to at least have a few more hours to get a story together before he cornered you here in one Choi San’s kitchen on a Friday evening. There’s an assortment of drinks spread out over the counters, no doubt in the fridge as well, but you aren’t after any of those goods in particular right now. Instead, you opt to simply snag water from the fridge and turn to face Mingi as you’re unscrewing the cap.

“Hm? What happened last Tuesday?” The quaint tilt of your chin does nothing to solidify your innocence, and Mingi’s sharp stare hones in on your face within seconds.

“You tell me, yn.”

Your lips part to prepare some sort of response, gaze trailing off to the ceiling as you piece together the excuse of a story. Mingi grants you that much, at least, even if it’s a show of how extravagantly you’re about to lie to him here and now. He leans around you as you’re gathering your thoughts, reaching for the counter and snagging a beer off it. You’d be impressed with his strength if you didn’t know that it’s the kind that screws off at the cap because Hongjoong has dainty hands that can easily be injured and he’s no good at opening bottles, thus San coddles him as such even when it comes to house parties.

“Well… I remember getting dinner with a few people. Didn’t drink or smoke anything because I had an early shift the next day. Then I went home.”

“Went home, huh?”

“We don’t typically get together on Tuesdays, Min,” you say between sips, arching a brow at the man who stands across from you. He pauses as well just to stand a little straighter and look you in the eye before arching one of his one brows — the pierced one that has a little black barbell poking through the skin — at you in return. His silence allows you a moment of reprieve, even if it comes at the cost of his staring so heavily at your face all the while. Still, you make no effort to conceal the way you drag your own gaze from his face down his body, taking in the ill-fitting tank top that has obscenely large holes cut out for his arms to stick through. You’d argue that it fits a bit better than it used to with how he’s been bulking up and putting on muscle these days, but you would also never give him the pleasure of hearing your appreciation out loud. He hears enough of it in the late hours of the night, three or four times a week as he has you pressed into the mattress in your apartment. The tank also gives you an eyeful of one of your favorite pieces in Mingi’s extensive collection — the snaking vines of tattoos that spread from his wrists up to his shoulders, dipping beneath the fabric and leaving much to the imagination. But of course, you don’t need to think too hard about what’s underneath when you see it as often as you do.

“What are you smirking about?” he questions, pulling your focus back up to his face before you can dip below the waistline.

“Thinking about what a lucky girl I am, that’s all.” You push off the counter to step around your friend, laying a hand on his shoulder as you slip between his body and the fridge to get past. “Got a big strong man all to myself.”

“That so?” He turns with you like his gaze is glued to you and can’t be separated even for a second. “Which one would that be?”

In hindsight, you should also have known that Mingi is smart enough to figure out little nuances and pick up on context clues when they’re presented to him. Thankfully, you have your back to him now so the shock doesn’t register on your face by the time you shift to look back at him over your shoulder. There’s a smile planted on your lips instead, one that you hope deters him for a little while longer.

“Look in the mirror some, pretty boy.”

You dip out of the kitchen then to rejoin the others in the living room, sinking to the couch cushions between San and some girl you’ve never seen before.

“Freshly rolled, milady,” San says through a dimpled grin as he lifts a somewhat sketchy-looking joint to dangle before your face. You’d decline if it were coming from anyone other than San — you’ve seen your fair share of sketchy and downright awful homemade joints come from his hands, but he is also the only one amongst your friend group who has the patience and tact to do it. (That, and you’re still vacuuming weed out of the carpet in your own living room from when Wooyoung and Mingi had a rolling contest that resulted in what can only be considered a horrendous fire hazard.)

“Thank you, kind sir.”

Hongjoong is sat on the other side of San, knees pulled up to his chest and tucked into the armrest as though he’s trying to make himself seem as small as possible. You barely get a glimpse at the red cup in his hands before San’s broad shoulders are blocking your view and you have to give up. The group tonight is quite large, more than the typically small get-togethers that you’re used to having with the others where it’s only eight or nine of you at most. San seems to have invited quite a few more party-goers this time around, which you hardly mind all in all.

“Can I crash in your room tonight?” you ask as San is in the midst of pulling a lighter up to the end of the joint.

“Mhm, just don’t get cum on the sheets.” His grin is nothing but cheeky, although that doesn’t keep you from whacking his arm with your free hand once he sets the lighter aside.

“Oh, fuck off!”

“I’m gonna be busy getting some on someone else’s sheets later so I won’t have time to police you about it.”

“You’re so nasty.” The man simply passes off the comment with a laugh, leaning back into the couch cushions with a dopey little grin that tells you he’s already hit a joint himself more than a few times tonight. As he moves, Hongjoong goes with him, stretching his legs out across the party host’s lap and letting San slump against his body. You snort at the minute show of affection and take a hit from the joint between your fingers.

“You’re the one—” San pauses to make a crude gesture involving his index finger and a lightly balled fist “—one of the two towers over there.”

Following the jerk of his chin isn’t too difficult, but you still regret glancing over in that direction because it means you make eye contact with the exact man you were trying to avoid in the kitchen earlier. Your stare flickers away too quickly to read as confident, and the only viable distraction within reach is San’s homemade joint. You aren’t too interested in getting too high tonight, just enough to get a little light and airy if anything, so as soon as you catch Wooyoung moving past the back of the couch, you pass the joint off to him before he gets too far away. Two hits will leave you fully lucid but any more than that and you’d be pushing the buttons on an emotional rollercoaster that you aren’t wanting to have in front of a bunch of strangers.

“Both… well, only once for one of them,” you mutter under your breath with the hope that Mingi hasn’t miraculously gained the skill of lip-reading.

“Is that where you were last Tuesday?” Hongjoong pipes up this time, pulling himself a little straighter to get a better look at you and you nearly hiss at him to keep it down.

“A lady never kisses and tells,” you say instead with a smile plastered over your lips. That has both men hollering in each other’s arms, one high and the other quite tipsy from the looks of it, but you’re happy to be their entertainment even if only for a few minutes.

“No wonder Min was fuming! Oh, I’d fucking kill to be a fly in the wall in that room when shit hits the fan.” San exhales a deep sigh, head tipping from side to side as he speaks. His laugh turns airy as he tips his body further back, sinking hard into Hongjoong’s body and knocking them both to the cushions. You don’t share in his amusement, however, as you turn to regard him with a furrowed brow and confusion etched across your features. Hongjoong notices the shift in your expression before San has the chance to.

“You might think about putting a muzzle on that one—” his gaze shifts as discreetly as possible to where Yunho sits “—‘cause he’s a little loose-lipped.”

Your lips draw into a tight purse, pulling to one corner of your mouth. You aren’t really upset about Yunho saying something — neither of you had an agreement on anything of the sort, and you’re smart enough to know how men behave at this point in your life. It is a bit funny though, in your opinion, for Mingi to be the one angry (undoubtedly jealous on top of that) when the two of you simply hook up when there aren’t other options available. You just so happened to have another option available last week, one that was quite hard to pass up on and very much worth the exhaustion and soreness that came the next day.

“Though, I suppose only the two of us know about what you and Min do when left alone.” When you shift to pass a half-hearted glare in Hongjoong’s direction, he’s wearing a shit-eating grin that makes you want to smack him even more. If not for the lengthy stretch it would take to get past the guard dog that drapes over him in the form of Choi San, you would certainly go through all that trouble just to yank his ear a little. Instead of dealing with that, you push up from where you’ve crammed yourself on the couch and move to step around the furniture — not without kicking at Hongjoong’s foot as you pass just because it’s within reach and San is out of it. That creeping lightness coming from the weed is starting to sink into your bones and make you feel everything a little more intensely. “Remember not to mess up the sheets!”

You don’t turn to see if Hongjoong catches the middle finger you send his way, but you do make for the stairs solely with the excuse that you have to use the bathroom planted at the tip of your tongue if anyone asks. Of course, that comes as a shroud to the real reason you’re headed up there, because you know someone will follow and you expect nothing less from him anyway.

The two of you follow a rather simple formula when it comes to parties like these, which is part of the reason San and Hongjoong both know about what you get up to at these events after having been caught in various corners of the house by both men multiple times. And while you are more than willing and able to mess around with the man without anything in your system, you like fucking Mingi best when you’re a little high and can feel every sensation that much more with him. You linger at the top of the stairs before heading straight for San’s room, pausing on the landing to angle yourself over the railing and peer down the flight of stairs as you wait for your companion’s head to pop up. He comes quicker than you expected him to and with a good deal of determination to his steps that makes him look entirely suspicious on all accounts.

“Everyone is gonna guess what we’re up to with you marching up here like that,” you drawl from your spot at the railing, chin coming to rest on the wood as you speak down at him. Mingi hesitates midway up the stairs, and his chin tilts up to find the source of your voice. Despite the grin playing at your lips, he doesn’t return the humor with even a small laugh.

“Good, then maybe they’ll get the hint,” he snips back.

A sigh escapes you, and you turn your head until your cheek presses into the wood. Leaving one hand to dangle by your side, you bring the other up to stretch over the length of the railing. Mingi walks up the rest of the flight of stairs, rounding the edge of the landing with a hand that skates over yours with a barely-there touch. You hum in the back of your throat. He tilts his head to match yours, and although the angle should be wholly awkward and nothing else, you feel that familiar thrum of arousal boiling deep in your gut when he meets your eyes. The sharpness in his tone doesn’t match the way he looks down at you — you know that much for certain, and you can safely take that as a hint that he’s not nearly as upset with you as he is with Yunho.

“Did you do it on purpose?” he asks nonetheless. He’s fishing for an answer you don’t have, but you can’t deny that there’s some sick part of you that wants to play into it and see how possessive he can get. “To make me jealous?”

“Hm.” You pull yourself back into an upright position a little too quickly, and the rush of blood to your head coupled with the tingling in your nerves makes your vision swim some. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.” Mingi moves back to prop himself against the wall opposite the railing, and you make the pointed (and extremely difficult) decision not to eye the tremors in the muscles of his arms as he tugs them across his chest. As your eyes sweep over his torso to focus on his face once more, you shift to let your back rest against the wall the railing provides and secure your hands behind you on the lip of it. “He offered, and I accepted. Simple as that.”

“Simple, huh?” He makes it hard to not give into a wandering gaze when he’s drumming his fingers along the inked skin of his forearm. “Except he’s supposed to know you’re off-limits.”

“I can’t sleep with other people? Maybe I missed the memo that said we’re exclusive, Min.”

“You can sleep with anyone with you want,” Mingi starts, pulling his head forward a little as his gaze turns fiery, “but my best friend can’t sleep with you. And he knows that. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Then that’s not anyone I want, big boy.”

“If he offered, then he’s the one who presented the opportunity.”

“Maybe he was trying to get you to be a real man.”

“A real man?” Mingi echoes, and now his lips stretch to form a grin that displays his teeth. You dip your chin down with a laugh, hand subconsciously coming up to hover over your face. When you blink back up at your companion, he has his tongue pushed between his lips and teases the corner of his mouth, a gesture you know to read frustration. You smile despite yourself. A glint bounces off his tongue and reflects the ball of metal that sits caught between his teeth. “Didn’t know you could be such a brat, angel, you’re usually so good and pliant when I’m fuckin’ you into the mattress.”

“You could try asking Yunho then, princess, I’m sure he’d love to answer any questions you might have given how mouthy he’s apparently been.” Some part of you realizes that you’re pushing your luck perhaps a little too far, but if Yunho is going to talk himself then you believe yourself to have every right to do the same as long as it benefits you. “Did he tell you how he fucked me? How many marks he left on my body? If you look hard enough, I bet you could find some leftover ones.”

“Look, doll, because I know he called you that thinking it was charming—” Mingi shoves himself off the wall and takes a single step in your direction, but that’s enough to have you pulling yourself straighter and swallowing around nothing. “You can let yourself believe he fucked you nice just ‘cause he’s got a dick nearly as big as mine, but you’re up here with me, looking to get fucked by me, and testing me and my patience so I give it to you better than he could ever hope to. But you can keep playing that game and scamper on downstairs to his lap if you wanna. I’ll wait.”

“You know I won’t do that, Min. Not when you’re offering so sweetly like this. But I appreciate how willing you are to let me have whatever I want.” You drop your head to the side and glance down the flight of stairs that’s at your back. There’s no one there — not that you expected there to be — but this shroud of privacy you have with the man can’t last that long when so many people are in the house right now. You aren’t as high as you’d like to be, not as much as usual, mostly because Mingi is making your thoughts clear up bit by bit with each step he takes in your direction. It’s wholly distracting while also keeping you honed in on every little shift in his muscles, from the twitch of his fingers around the railing as he closes in on you to the twitch hanging about the corner of his mouth. “Should I take you up on your offer the way I did with Yunho?”

“I’m a jealous person, darling. If you’re gonna want me, then you’re gonna have to want me the most.”

You let him minimize the distance between your torsos, feeling his feet stop short of yours as he leans over you with the height advantage he has. That alone is a bit dizzying solely because it lets you get an eyeful of his inked arms all the way up to where those strands of tattoos dip under the baggy fabric of his shirt and where his muscles shine through the most.

“Why don’t you look in the mirror, huh?” You push a pout onto your lips as you speak, brows drawing into a tight knot that’s hardly serious, but it makes Mingi’s harshness falter nonetheless. “Showing yourself off like this, how am I supposed to know you’re not trying to get some other girl to want you?”

He catches your bluff a moment later, unfortunately for you because you had hoped to let the charade linger in the air a little while longer, but it turns favorable when he pushes the point of his nose under your jaw.

“I can want you the most, Mingi,” you continue still. Your voice is airy like you’re already out of breath, accompanied by a sweet sigh that makes Mingi nuzzle into your warm skin even more. “Shall I prove it?”

“I shouldn’t give you what you want so easily,” he murmurs against your neck. One of his large hands sweeps up from the railing to move across your collarbone, skating over the skin and up your throat so he can cup the point of your chin and dig his thumb into your lower lip. Your teeth graze his nail but never fully latch onto the digit as he tugs harder at your chin. “Should tease you the way you teased me, but I can’t do that.”

“Do you have other plans for me then?”

Mingi pulls up from your neck at the question, eyes finding yours without hesitation and digging deep into whatever emotion you’re hiding there.

“Oh angel, I have a whole number of plans for you tonight. It’s just a matter of whether you’ll be able to go that many rounds with me.”

You huff out a laugh, partially out of disbelief, and push your tongue between the parted line of your teeth. Mingi pushes his thumb up against the tip of your tongue then and nudges his way into your mouth with little to no resistance on your part. It’s a heady sensation, letting Mingi take over like that, but it’s made even more delicious with the knowledge that you’re fully in control at the end of the night. Even now, you pull his thumb deeper between your lips to let it rest fully against your tongue, and that’s the only thing keeping you from smirking at him while you do so. When you pull off, it’s with a grossly wet pop that sounds far lewder than it should. Mingi’s neck is tinted pink.

“I should’ve done that downstairs for everyone to see, I’m sure.” As an answer to your quip, Mingi pulls his free hand up to rest against the small of your back. He tugs you away from the blunt edge of the railing, leaving you to throw a hand up between your bodies to keep your head from knocking into his chin immediately.

“I don’t want you putting on a show for anyone but me.”

“Now that’s a red flag if I’ve seen one.”

“You gonna not fuck me because of it?” He seems to know your answer without you needing to say it, and without needing to watch the way your eyes roll to the side as you smile. Still, you offer that much, if only because you know there’s a long list of red flags he could point out in return. Ever the gentleman, he doesn’t.

“I think every good girl wants a bad boy, at least a little. I happen to want you a lot.” He’s giving a marvelous show of restraint from your perspective because you can’t imagine a time when he’s gone this long without claiming your lips, but he forgoes that gesture in favor of pulling you to the opposite wall. Your body hits with a soft thud, barely an impact with his hand blocking most of the pressure he gives by nudging a thigh between your legs.

“That’s only applicable if you’re a good girl.”

“Am I not?” Your lip catches between your teeth as you pose the question, and while you’re fully aware of the answer to it, it still fills you with endless delight to see the way Mingi seethes at your audacity to ask such a thing. His hands come down strong on either side of your head — not threatening, but firmly in a way that sends a thrill of arousal straight to your gut. His thigh tenses where it rests between your legs, making it near impossible to ignore the flexing muscles that press right against your clothed crotch. You’re certain he feels it just as much as you do.

“You most certainly are not, darling.”

“What are you gonna do about it then?” His proximity makes it difficult for you to move at all, but when you start inching along the wall in an attempt to get closer to San’s door, Mingi moves like a man possessed, following your movements with his own. “Nothing drastic I hope…?” You sink your teeth into your lower lip, reaching around the edge of the doorframe to grab at the handle.

“I think you’d like it better if I did, yn.”

Your fingers twitch against the cool metal before closing around it.

“Maybe I wanna just hear if you’ve got any bright ideas in that head of yours. You’re usually quite creative with the way we do things, darling.”

“Nothing’s punishment to you. Not when you enjoy it the way you do.” He takes a step back to regard you with a sharp stare, one that is a little ambiguous in terms of emotion and leaves you wondering what exactly is on his mind as he watches you. Still, you take the chance he provides to slip in front of the door and pop it open, releasing the seal on the room and making the tension in the air spike. It becomes something even more enticing, a thing that’s not fully within reach as you have the out you were after, the metaphorical nail in the coffin to get what you’re after, and you know Mingi sees it as such himself because he drags his tongue over his lower lip and lets his gaze wander down your legs. “Would still love to make you cry on my cock though.”

You pause midway through the doorframe to eye Mingi’s expression once more. There’s a sadistic sort of grin toying at the edges of his lips as he looks back at you, dragging his eyes up from your body to land on your face once more.

“Think you can manage it?”

“I know I always do.”

There’s something dirty in the way he kisses you then, tongue breaching the line of your lips with no resistance on your part, and when his tongue presses hot and heavy against yours, you feel something clench tight in your chest. You like it best this way: when he’s rough, when he doesn’t treat you delicately and instead kisses you like it might literally be the last time he can get his hands on you, and perhaps that's what you missed so desperately with Yunho. Mingi knows your body like the back of his hand and knows how to push all your buttons and toy with your strings. Part of you wonders (and is very self-aware about it) if the reason you don’t let things go any further between the two of you is out of an innate fear that things will change if feelings were truly involved. Maybe if love was part of the equation, he wouldn’t be as willing to have you this way, or maybe you wouldn’t enjoy it as much as you do now.

When he pushes you back into the safe privacy of San’s bedroom, you loop an arm around Mingi’s waist and pull him closer into your little bubble of space. The door falls shut behind him quickly and quietly, probably an effort on his part to maintain this little bit of privacy you have. One of these days you have to hand deliver a bouquet of flowers to San for even allowing you access to his room like this, but also for keeping your little secret just that the way he does.

Those thoughts leave you quickly, however, as Mingi’s large hands start to wander lower and skate over the curve of your ass. You groan into his mouth when he squeezes your flesh in his palms. You take the cue to lift your leg along his. There’s a rush of goosebumps over your skin as his hand moves along the line of your hamstring to hook at your knee, and when he rolls his hips towards yours, there’s much more contact this time. The firm bulge of his erection presses between your legs just enough to tease — it’s not nearly enough pressure to bring you the kind of pleasure you’re searching for. Maybe that frustration leaks into your next movements, into the way you kick your leg back down and bring your hands up to Mingi’s tank to push him off you for a moment. His lips part from yours with nothing more than a thin line of spit to connect the two of you but even that doesn’t last long as you fight to change your positions. Mingi lets it happen with a growing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, barely flinching when his knees hit the edge of the bed and make him collapse to the edge of the mattress.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby,” he murmurs as you drop to your knees between his legs. A scoff leaves your lips.

“What’s it look like, big boy?”

He hums, hand coming up to comb over your scalp for less than a second before the soft touch turns to a firmer grip that holds you in place for the time being.

“Gonna let me fuck your pretty mouth, yeah?”

Your fingers twitch against where you’ve just let them rest on his pants. It’s hard to maintain the fight you’ve been showing up until this point simply because of how damn pronounced his cock is through those pants, and how fucking badly you want to feel him against your tongue.

“You can work for it, can’t you?” you counter through gritted teeth instead of giving in right away. Still, your hands move against the waistband of his pants and continue with their path to work them down enough to give you some access to his member within. The fingers in your hair hold tighter as Mingi shifts his hips and lets you slide his pants down to the floor.

“Thinking about my cock between those lips.” He sounds a bit dazed already, which would be a new record for you, but it comes with his hand traveling from the top of your head down to your mouth. It doesn’t take much for him to cup your jaw and press the pads of his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. He doesn’t pinch your mouth open as he usually would, even when you pull his length out from its confines. You’re just close enough to kiss the tip, lips staying firmly shut as you tilt your head to wrap your kisses around the side of him.

“You’re always thinking about that though.” You pout just a little; it’s hard to do anything else with the control he has over your face right now. Mingi’s eyes move from your face down to where his cock rests against the curve of your lips. His other hand comes up from the mattress to take the place of the one he just had in your hair, and this time when he pinches your cheeks, your lips part just enough to welcome the leaking tip of his dick into your wet heat.

“Then open wide for me and lemme have it.” You ought to be ashamed of how hot and bothered his voice gets you, something so simple yet incredibly enticing on every level, but there’s no denying how the deep timbre of his voice sends heat right between your legs. You take him deeper into your mouth as his hand falls away from your cheeks. The one in your hair remains although it’s moreso there for him to simply touch because he clearly has no intent on doing any work himself. You don’t mind necessarily, taking your hand to wrap around the inches of his cock you can’t quite fit in your mouth without breaching your throat.

His next groan is much louder than the last little sigh of pleasure he let out, and it comes with him tilting his chin to the ceiling and leaning further back. You watch his movements carefully even with your mouth now fully occupied and hard at work. It’s equally intoxicating to watch him succumb to arousal and pleasure, and although the idea of him blindfolding you and just using his voice and hands to get you off is very enticing, you think you would miss seeing his face contort in pleasure the way it does now. You hollow your cheeks along his length as you pull up, barely stopping at the head of his cock before dipping back down to touch where your hand grips him.

Despite the lack of effort to fuck your mouth, you can see how he’s desperately trying to keep himself from doing exactly that. His lashes flutter as he blinks down between his legs to catch a glimpse of your lips stretched into an ‘o’ around his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” You slip further down on his length, cheeks sucking in around him. “On your knees, taking my big cock like that.” A harder, more pointed suck as you dip your thumb down to trace over the sensitive skin of his balls. “Baby.”

His moans turn almost guttural as you continue until you give him a moment’s rest and tug off him to press your nose along the side of his cock now. You paint his skin with little kisses along the way, tracing over the places you’ve already touched with your tongue. It feels a bit like your nerve endings are being set on fire when he takes both hands to your hair and guides your head back to take his cock into your mouth. The first upwards thrust of his hips is gentle enough: testing and prodding at the limits as well as your well-being before he drives deeper into your mouth. Shock overwhelms you merely because of how quickly he flips the switch on you, and if not for the hand you smartly kept in place at the base of his cock, you would surely choke on his member without warning.

“Don’t wanna cum yet, but fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanna cover your pretty face in cum, wanna ruin you.”

All you can do is moan around his dick and hope that it’s an answer enough for him.

“You like it, princess? Want me to make your makeup run—” he thrusts hard enough to nudge into your throat, and your throat constricts around his tip by sheer instinct “—and mark you nicely with my cum?” Tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes already just from the sheer force of his cock hitting the back of your throat, but there’s also this antsy frustration that is building up in your gut from going this long without any relief of your own. You want him to touch you desperately at this point, so much so that you take it upon yourself to retract a hand to settle between your legs and press against the sensitive nub of your clit through your underwear. Even that slight bit of relief feels so heavenly that you whine around Mingi’s cock. Eyes squeezing shut, you let your jaw go slack as he continues to use your face and work your fingers over your clit until the wetness seeps through the fabric of your panties. “You’re so fucking good, yn, letting me use you like this. Look at you getting off on it too. Like getting used that much?”

A breath of pause in his words where he inhales sharply like he’s weighing what he wants to say next. It works to his advantage because his next statement hits you like a ton of bricks, sharp and pointed and spoken with irrevocable confidence that makes your thighs tremble.

“Knew he wasn’t good enough to please you properly.”

Your moans get louder in volume only because he pulls his cock from the wet cavern that is your mouth but you’re still dazed enough to leave your lips hanging open as your fingers move faster against your cunt. Mingi doesn’t knock your hand away from the base of his length but he wraps a hand over himself nonetheless and jerks over the wet path you left on him. The sounds are sinful as can be, wet and messy to match your equally-ruined expression.

“Close your eyes, princess.” You barely have time to do that much before hot ropes of cum are spilling out over your features, painting your face from forehead to chin with no real direction, and Mingi doesn’t stop until he’s milked his cock for all its worth on you. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

His large hands move to your body, lifting you off your knees with a ridiculous amount of ease, and while you don’t want to, you’re forced to stop touching yourself as he nudges you onto the bed without further ado.

“In me, Mingi, I want you inside—”

“Shh, gotta prep you first, baby girl, I ain’t that heartless.” Even with his sweet consideration, you whine like you’ve been eternally denied what you’re after, fists balling up around the comforter as you press your face into it. Mingi lifts your hips high enough to get you to brace yourself on your knees. It makes your skirt swoop forward, assisted of course by Mingi who shoves the material up over your ass without an ounce of hesitation. The new position is hardly inconspicuous in the slightest, and well beyond the realm of suggestiveness to the point where if any one of your friends were to come in unannounced, you would have no chance of defending yourself from their suspicions. You can only hope that San and Hongjoong both remember to deter anyone from trying to use San’s room for its bathroom because you well and truly don’t want to move from this position at all. The mere thought of Mingi having you like this, bent over your form as he drills into your cunt and pins your wrists to the bed is enough to make your core clench around nothing.

“Just—” you interrupt your own train of thought with a whine that breaches your lips without thought, and Mingi is the one to elicit it from you as he drags the blunt ends of his nails over your ass while tugging your underwear down. “Min…”

“I’m not fuckin’ you until you’re in tears, baby.” If that’s his version of punishment then you consider it to be only mildly effective because you’re frustrated and pent-up enough at this point to where you might just cry for the hell of it to soften him up a bit. But then his fingers come to brush through the line of your folds, skating over the wetness that’s pooled there, and without warning, he pushes two fingers into your fluttering hole. The haste with which he does so has you releasing a noise so embarrassing that you push your cheek further into the sheets in an (ineffective) attempt to hide yourself from Mingi’s prying eyes. “Gotta see you to know when that is, yn.”

You get an eyeful of his half-grin and the sharp curve of his lips, and that’s unfortunately enough for you to tilt your head so that he can see your face a bit better.

“There’s my pretty girl.” The praise goes straight between your legs, making you clench blindly around the fingers Mingi has pumping in and out of your cunt. He curls them at the second knuckle at the same time and prods deeper inside you until he pushes up against the spot that really makes your head spin and vision go blurry. He pays such close attention to that spot that you hardly notice it when he slips a third digit into you. The sole infuriating nuance to his actions is how he doesn’t quite hit your g-spot the way you want him to: not with force or direct pressure. He merely teases the flesh around it, nudging closer and closer to it without quite giving you the satisfaction you want from it. Yet each time you open your mouth to complain about the treatment, he deliberately presses into it with one finger as though to tell you ‘see I’m giving you what you want, you can’t complain‘.

You have to keep your fists balled around the comforter to quell the shaking in your fingers, but your whole body is trembling at this point with how many times Mingi has brought you right to the precipice of a mindblowing orgasm only to steal that heat away and focus on stretching your walls around his fingers.

“H-Haven’t you — Min… come on!”

“Hm? What is it you want, baby girl? I can’t read your mind.”

“Insufferable, you’re so annoying, I can’t stand you, you’re so — ugh!” Perhaps it’s his antics that pluck at your nerves like they’re nothing more than strings for him to play with, but the unending routine of getting closer and closer to your satisfaction without truly getting it reaches its peak as you sob against the mattress and finally let tears fall.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you, yn.” You don’t bother looking back at Mingi’s face when he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, but you are vaguely aware of his other hand coming up to brush over the tears on your cheeks. That only lasts a second before his hand comes down to rest over where yours still clenches the bedsheets so tight that your knuckles bleed white. Another sob tumbles out of you as you feel the blunt tip of his cock pushing up against your slit, and your whole body trembles under Mingi’s weight right after. He sinks his length into you slowly, letting it fill you and stretch you as he pushes inch after inch into you. “Let go of the bed, baby, I’ve got you.” You do as told without complaint or resistance this time. Mingi draws your wrists up higher along the bed until they’re both perched closer to the pillows, then he settles his hips fully against your backside, draping his form over yours.

“F-Fuck me, please, stop — stop making me wait,” you say barely louder than a whisper because your throat already feels scratchy and overused.

“Of course, pretty angel, anything for you.”

The first real drive of his cock into you is maddening at best, a sweet slide of pressure and relief that makes you cry out louder than before, and he continues to build up a steady pace that fills the air with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. You aren’t at all surprised that he’s already hard a second time; he usually pushes you to the limit with how many rounds he likes to go. Equally unsurprising is the way his thrusts quickly lose their rhythm and turn into sharp, punctuated thrusts that threaten to knock your hips all the way down to the bed. He’s muttering quite a bit in your ear — things you aren’t wholly processing because you finally get to chase that sweet pleasure you’ve been denied all this time. You aren’t aware of how noisy you’re being either until Mingi brings a hand down to tilt your mouth closer to the sheets to shush you some. You take it in stride, for whatever that’s worth, and simply clench tighter around his dick as he seeks the angle that will make you see stars.

A white-hot pleasure sears through your system with enough force to make your back curl and have you writhing under Mingi’s weight.

“Got it,” he murmurs behind you, sounding insufferably proud of himself, but you don’t have it in you to chastise him for it. What you do do, however, is free one of your hands to throw it behind you, grabbing for his hip and trying to encourage him to keep at it for your sake. He catches your wrist between his fingers before you have the chance though, and rather than pushing it back to the bed, he simply pins your arm behind your back and uses you as leverage to fuck up against that spot along your walls over and over again.

And in your defense, you don’t usually cum so quickly but he’s been teasing you and riling you up for so long at this point that you don’t find yourself embarrassed in the slightest when your walls start to pulse around his length. The euphoric pleasure is certainly worth it too, the release you were after finally sending shockwaves through your system until your toes curl and your neck hurts from the angle you’ve got it tilted at. Mingi keeps at his pace, only slowed a hair by your cunt squeezing tight around his cock, and he shows no signs of being close behind you until you’re back to sobbing into the mattress. Your core can’t keep pace with the drives of his cock, clenching and fluttering at odd intervals while Mingi chases a second high to pump into you.

“Gonna cum, baby.”

“In — inside, don’t you dare pull out.” Spoken through gritted teeth, you sound a little angry but also choked because of the tears that are still leaking out of your eyes and onto the bed. You aren’t sure if your tone is what pushes him over the edge, but you do catch the glint in his eyes as you inadvertently glare over your shoulder at him, and your only thought is that it’s simply another exciting facet to explore with him later.

His orgasm finally comes, to your relief because it means your cunt finally gets to break from his ruthless pace and the obscene stretch around his length, and it comes with a string of colorful expletives that are spoken through broken groans. You echo his groan albeit very much so not in the same kind of pleasure he’s experiencing as his weight fully collapses on top of you and nearly knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You’re so—”

“Go again?”

“No. For once you oaf, no,” you whine from under him, twisting your body as best you can like it’ll help your case. Mingi has enough energy to laugh, a full and throaty noise that always makes your heart somersault, then he’s peeling his body off yours to let you breathe easy again.

“Was I too rough?”

“Nooo, no, you were so good, Min.” His hands are already wandering to turn you over onto your back. “So fucking good, if I had the energy, I’d want you to do that several more times.”

“Yeah? That so?” He’s laughing again, either at your drawling tone or at the way you curl your arms and legs around his body to get him to lift you off the bed.

“You got cum in my hair…”

“I’ll wash it out for you.”

Showering is a feat in and of itself that you’re almost too tired to accomplish on your own, so when Mingi slips in behind you midway through and finishes washing your skin down, you’re more than a little grateful for the help. Not enough to get on your knees on that tiled floor, but grateful still.

And as is routine at this point, the two of you stumble back to San’s bed in a dark room, tangling yourselves in the sheets together like a perfectly mismatched puzzle.

“When you said maybe Yunho was trying to get me to be a real man… what did you mean by that?”

“Don’t push it, Min.” You can feel the man shifting at your back but the arm resting under your head doesn’t move, and he continues with the soft circles that he’s massaging into your skin with that hand. “We really did fuck though. It’s not some practical joke or just me trying to get under your skin. We fucked, and I liked it, but I didn’t like it the way I like it with you so I don’t think I wanna sleep with him again.”

“He remembered protection, right?”

“Yes, Min, of course he did. And if he hadn’t, I would have.”

Mingi huffs through his nose, a little indignant and very much dramatic, yet he seems to settle down just fine in the following seconds. Warm blooms over your head, a telltale sign of how close his face is to the crown of your head, and he twists his whole body to curl further around yours.

“Let’s keep at it then.”

Internally, you laugh a little solely because of how nonchalant Mingi makes it sound when the subject matter isn’t something as simple as that. Belatedly, you’re struck with a certain realization that makes your blood run cold and has you jerking in Mingi’s hold to look at the side of his face.

“What?”

“San said not to get cum on the sheets and you shoved my whole face in them!”

"It was just the comforter..."

"Just the comforter?!"

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

I probably won't be able to pull off a whole episode tonight but I. Must. Know 😭😭

***

The way she keeps begging her worthless father for even a crumb of acknowledgement that he had any feelings whatsoever for her poor mother, smh.

***

Oh, fuck you.

All he ever thinks of is his dick and his pride. I don't think he has ever truly loved anyone except for himself.

***

Oh, baby 😢

Why are you even still expecting anything from his worthless, selfish ass?

***

YES. SEE HIM FOR WHAT HE IS.

He deserves neither your love nor respect. Please stop crying because of him!

***

Ugh, this evildoer.

Don't worry, I have no doubt you'll eventually get yours too! 😡

***

Who?

What are the names of those two princes again? Yan and Yong?

***

I am suuuuuuper confused.

Are Consort Yong and Duchess Ying the same person?

(Also, finally! These Yan and Yong people appear! I have been trying so hard to remember these names because this drama keeps hinting they will be important.)

***

No, not the same, because Consort Yong is a princess, not a duchess, smh. Then what are they both wearing pink for? A little consideration for us face-blind people would have been nice!

***

So.... let me see if I've got this straight.

The Princes Yong and Yan are the current Emperor's brothers?

***

Oh, wait, I just realized that this toxic gossip is Yanran's shitty younger sister!

I didn't recognise her in fine clothes, lol.

What the hell is her problem? She's still mad about being beaten at a game of polo?

***

Jesus Christ. Now she has the attention of these witches on her.

This is all Qi Heng's shitty doing. I hate him more than I can express 🤬🤬

And it's not just Minglan, these Imperial fuckers can ruin her entire family too!

***

LOL, who's the little whore?

Is there a single woman in this drama who doesn't have a problem with mistresses, concubines, serving maids and prostitutes? 😅

***

NOOOOOO, DON'T GO MEET WITH HIM!! 😭

AND THIS CREEPY WITCH SAW!! 😭😭

***

STUPID. STUPID. STUPID.

Minglan, where did you lose your brain??

***

WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT YOUR MISERABLE BODY

YOUR EVIL MOTHER BEAT A WOMAN TO DEATH BECAUSE OF YOU. FUCK YOU AND FUCK HER AND FUCK YOUR ENTIRE HOUSE

***

There is no chance this will not pulverize both her reputation and that of her entire house.

First of all, the Emperor would never offend his parents by granting this marriage and second, the scandal of it will do soooooo much damage to her and her family. Just imagine how pissed off his parents will be, in addition to every other snooty noble who is very much going to take her trying to marry above her means as a personal insult. Sheng Hong has neither the power nor the mental capacity to deal with the fallout of that.

***

LMAO, where did his stupid ass come from? 🤣🤣

He's like a jack-in-the-box, always popping up, it seems.

***

LOL, bribe him with the cake to keep him quiet 🤣🤣

***

Yes! Finally, somebody is speaking some common sense!

All her stupid maids to is enable her because they think it's sooooo romantic 🙄🙄

***

Yes, baby! Here for you and your petty goals! ����

***

Oh, nooooooo 😬😬

Of course Buwei gets blamed. Of course!

[gettinshiggywithit]

!Highschool AU chuuya x reader whose best friend lied to them!

pairing:- chuuya x gn!reader

scenario:- chuuya comforts his s/o when they find out their best friend lied to them.

genre:-comfort/fluff

type:- oneshot A/N:- Hi hi!this is just a vent piece mostly but i hope its perhaps a little relatable? im tryna put some stuff out while i write the requests i have! so this is a few weeks old~

It was the day before your business studies exam and you’d scheduled a study session at your house with your best guy friend turned boyfriend;chuuya nakahara

(Also i hc him havin the subject combo of business studies,economics and physics)

Buddy was ready to get down to business! He’d bought along some of your favorite drinks and snacks and after saying hi to your parents,who absolutely adored him, he headed to your room.

He knocked on your door and was met with sniffles.

This set off sirens in his head but he thought he knew what the root cause of this could be.

He slowly opens to door and sets the snacks,drinks, and his notes down before joining you at your spot on the floor.

He wordlessly wraps you in a hug which startles you for a second before you realize its him.

But once you do,you pull him closer and it makes you cry just a little harder,your cries muffled by his hoodie.

He slowly begins to rub your back in an attempt to calm you down while whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

Once you calm down enough you look up at him and exhale.

“Sorry...”

“Nope. Dont be...now,you wanna talk about it?”

He always knew how to respond and it was honestly always such a relief.

You knew he’d never offer to help if he didnt want to and when he did he always meant it.(and he’d make a little mental note to be there for you no matter what,because you’d always done the same for him)

But once you nodded and opened your mouth to speak,the reasoning behind your current state wasn’t at all what he’d imagined.

“F/N lied...”

*insert confused gingi boi*

You noticed his look of confusion and began your explanation.

To be quite frank,Your best friend,whom youd known since elementary, had lied to you and it all seemed to be over a boy.

Chuuya was honestly dumbstruck.this was the girl who’d been there for you even before he knew you,

and she also happened to be the one who’d introduced the two of you...

And what was even stranger was how this seemed to uncharacteristic of her...she wasnt the type to go after boys and had always been focused on her studies.and the thing that kinda pissed chuuya off was that the boy in question wasn’t even that great a guy.he was a nice enough kid sure,but he wasn’t great...and certainly nowhere near her standard...

After you finished your explanation you looked to him for his verdict before saying your final statement,

“...and im not sure if im overreacting or not because sure its just a small thing but the fact is that she lied when id have been okay if she just told me the truth...i dont know Chuu....this all just hurts i guess...and this plus the paper tomorrow has me so fucking drained!”

You groaned in frustration and he saw this as his opening to step in.

“Okay first of all,it’s kinda messed up that she did that but have you tried talking to her?”

“No...I thought id just talk to her after exams were over,otherwise who knows maybe she’ll say the reason she got a B or a C was cos I started shit...”

“Okay yeah fair...but do you see yourself being friends with her after this? Especially if her justification is as shitty as what she did?”

“I dont know...the thing is she means so much to me...i trusted her and this is what she did??? I know ill never be able to trust her ag- actually who am I kidding im gonna trust her again and get hurt all over again....i dont know what to do ‘Yaya”

He nodded thoughtfully at that,the gears in his head turning as he tried to come up with the perfect solution.

He know you valued honesty and loyalty above all,it was one of the things you had in common and also one of the things that had made you as close as you were,so he knew this wouldnt be easy.because truthfully even he wouldnt have been able to deal with this and woulda probably turned to you for help...

“Okay then,try to focus on the exam,as best you can and talk to her after? I know its gonna hurt like a bitch but just try?”

“And ill be here okay?,” he said taking your hand in his, “no matter what.”

“Thanks chuuya...Youre probably the best thing that came from my friendship with her.” You said with a soft half-smile.

“Likewise.” He said returning the gesture.

You then looked back to the notes sprawled all around you.

“Fuxk...business tomorrow..”

“Mhmm...wanna start?”

“Dont really have a choice,” you wiped your tears and blew your nose on a tissue before saying, “lets do this!”

“Attagirl!” He said giving you a fist bump.

You studied well into the night and he stayed at your place.

And the next morning,you set off to the exam center hand in hand,giving eachother a single good luck kiss before making your way to your seats.

All rights reserved © 2023 gettinshiggywithit . Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

[spaztastic-headcannons]

LAWYER UP

Ok! Side tangent to the how can they prove it thoughts!!

LAWYERS

Like it's shitty that there isn't due process for a trial (as corrupted as it would be) and that gives the Marines and Sengoku himself complete power as judge, jury, and executioner (literally). But what if there was???

Like a lawyer who had the absolute balls to call them on their bullshit and demand a fair and public trial for the crimes of Portgas D. Ace and to justify the public stunt they are trying to pull with his execution. To demand accountability!

I think they'd probably end up with their own bounty at the end of up but they'd have so much to work with!!

[Note I am not a lawyer! But I have a lot of questions to bring up reasonable doubt!]

This is going to also get a bit long so read more below!

So to start they don't bring up the Gol D. Roger part yet because confidential, yeah. But they why go through such a stunt for a pirate that is a commander of a yonko, but who has a significantly smaller reputation than some of the people currently locked up in Impel Down? You would lock up Shiki the Golden Lion instead of execution but you want to execute this kid? Powerhouse or not, that seems kinda skewed?? And Biased??

Oh it's to set up a war with Whitebeard, that you have no guarantee you'd win and would possibly waste resources and lives of good Marines that serve for the justice and protection of the people...

then get into why he became a pirate. He was a ward of Garp the Hero, right? So in theory Ace should have had full access to all the rights and privileges of being Garp's ward/grandson, including education and proper care. However, as far as our information can gather and that Ace could provide himself, he was raised by bandits! Criminals! So had Garp set him up for failure? there seems to be a pattern with Garp and children in his care: Dragon, leader of the revolution, Ace, second commander of Whitebeard, and this newest pirate, Luffy, already making a name for himself and defying the world government as he goes! Isn't there even a hint of responsibility that Garp should take for Ace being the way he is and for leniency and the chance at rehabilitation? (which obviously isn't what Ace would want or do but it'd get him out of the death penalty!)

And what are Ace's primary crimes? Piracy yes but he didn't really pillage, murder indiscriminately or civilians, rape, or cause revolutions! His greatest crimes are dine and dashing (which his bills for that are astronomical but not death worthy), fighting Marines (though more marines make it out of his sort of attacks than not unless they attack him or his crew first so self defense), and obviously raising a jolly roger.

No imagine that these are bringing up things that obviously the marines don't want aired and to shift public opinion. (Garp has been notably silent after a rather nasty look from Sengoku after the whole raising criminals point...) So they bring out their trump card...

Ace is the true son of Gol D. Roger!

....

Ok, prove it.

Is there any genetic testing to link Ace as a relative of Roger? If they can make clones and robots, they should be able to do some genetic testing to see relations between people right? But where is Roger's body to get a sample from? And how can we ensure that the samples aren't messed with to ensure Ace as a scapegoat?

Then you [the marines] state that his mother held onto him for 20 months but that sounds preposterous! How can you prove that's true and where did you get this information? Is the information source reliable? Has anyone been able to replicate those results? And hypothetically, if this were true, why would a mother be so desperate to save her child to take such measures? is it because she saw the slaughter of children and infants and pregnant mothers on her island just for the Marines to prove a point? To ensure that an innocent child, free of sin with the only crime is to exist, is annihilated? The Marines have already proven how terrified they can be of actual children (Nico Robin's long list of bounty posters starting as a young girl are a great example). [totally separate rant on how pathetic a whole system is afraid of literal children and infants as to headhunt and murder entire generations, because of what they could know or represent. How all that they are could crumble the entire castle of sand.]

anywho I'm sure there's more but that's all I can think up right now from my late night musings. I think a good lawyer could argue at least a lesser sentence for Ace, prove reasonable doubt on the certainty he's Roger's kid (at least to the government and populace), and in general cause mayhem! If the system allows it, and allows it to be public, as well as not be entirely corrupt.

I'd love to see someone with actual law experience write something about this!

[blkkizzat]

Hey lovely. Long time no anon! I've had a shitty day. Not from anything in particular. I'm just PMSing real fuckin hard and my body fuckin hates me so! The excellent news is that my book is almost finished (about 4 chapters left til major editing). The better news is that I am about to get myself wine drunk, watch a few episodes of the boys season 4. The most absolutely horrendous amount of smut in one night. That being said...

I'm thinking.

Which JJK man is the most sensitive to you having a shitty day? Like no real reason. Nothing happened. The day just sucked.

We all know it's Nanami. Buuuuutt I feel like Geto would surprise us. Like he seems like he doesn't really care about shit. And maybe he doesn't but he's phenomenal at faking it. Like Geto wants to relax with us. Make the day feel less shitty. So he runs a bath for two. With episom salts cause he knows how to make you feel good. When we get out. He puts lotion on us first. Helps us through a nighttime routine. Tells is it'll all look better in the morning. Wakes us up with cunnilingus and a smirk that said 'I told you it would look better in the morning'

- a very drained 🧠

awe 🧠, babie doll im sorry you are feeling worn down. we moon cycle twins though cause im pmsing too. had a bad headache yesterday, feeling better today tho so i hope you are too!!

omg i just finished the boys s4 like a week ago! be sure to tell me what you think once you're done, shit is poppin AWF lmfao.

but yas you know nanami has a sixth sense to our needs, that goes without saying. he already knows our favorite everything and has a plan on deck to make the remaining hours of the day wonderful for us.

Also i love your hc on geto because to me he also gives twin energy in the sense of he wants to relax and experience things with you, so y'all also have matching robes and pjs for after the bath.

choso will have puppy energy. so he will def notice almost as quickly as nanami but his way of making you feel better is to cling to you, reassure you, very vocally expressive and will totally lift you up in that way. he's also an empath so if you are crying he will cry with you and hold you so you just feel very much seen, understood and validated.

gojo i think he would be rather clueless. like it would take a few lackluster responses for him to notice but once he realizes hes definitely trying to cheer you up. no one can make you laugh like him so he's doing or saying something stupid and you're now crying from gut busting giggles fits rather than whatever went wrong that day.

toji is actually likely more perceptive than nanami tbh. the reason for that is because of body language shifts which he notices because of the uber enhanced perception from heavenly restriction. however the problem is he doesn't know what to do from there. he doesn't wanna come off crass and piss you off more. and if he makes a crude joke at an attempt at humor and you cry more that would be even worse. i think though sense he would be able to sense the tension in you and as his love language is definitely physical touch—he would likely wordlessly just pull you into his arms and give you a huge bear hug. you know how weighted blankets soothe people? like that. he's like a huge weighted blanket and he's not gonna let you go until he feels you completely relax in his arms. trueform!sukuna is just as perceptive tbh, he just doesn't care. i feel like he expects everyone to be as self-sufficient and self-regulate emotions by not expressing them (lol toxic) like he does. however he also knows everyone falls short of him so he will give you your space to mop, cry, etc. thinking you are weak so you just need to let it out. However, i do imagine if you'd been moping longer than usual or to the point that it annoys him, he will try to comfort you in his own way. i feel that would be the way of giving you something to do for him. sukuna probably figures you must be bored if you have the time to waste being sad. i imagine he'd make you read to him or maybe even have you draw him a bath which he'd consequently would just drag you into. or perhaps he'd just blend ur guts up on his two cocks... you wanna cry? he'd give you something to cry about.

tail floofs to make you feel better babes <333

[soracities]

hi mim! i hope you're keeping well :) i wonder if you have any experience or thoughts on something, as a fellow late twenties-er:

how do you deal with unaccountable/unjustified cruelty towards you? like most people, i've lived through some bad times and have had pleeeeenty of people be mean to me, but generally as an adult, especially in the last few years, i do all right managing social situations & protecting myself, so i can safely disengage or accept the shitty stuff until the feelings dissipate. also, i try really, really hard to be genuine and kind to everyone, no matter what, and am relatively naive, so that helps limit bad interactions to some extent.

but earlier this year, i was trapped in a situation with a boss (they had power over me, so i couldn't leave) and was stuck listening to them hammer at me relentlessly with cruel, personal insults. (my union wasn't willing to do anything because of work politics.) my boss had teased out some misunderstandings and built them up in their head and let them fester until they felt the need to pull me into their office and scream really horrible things at me. they refused to let me defend myself and called me a liar every time i tried - basically begged - to explain where the misunderstandings must have come from, laughed at me when i asked them to stop yelling, threatened me over and over...i was full-bodied sobbing in front of them because i couldn't understand how this could have happened, how someone i knew and trusted (at work! not a shitty family member or abusive partner!) could snap and lose control like that at me. it was so so awful.

an older friend, who is much more cynical than i am, pointed out afterwards that this is par for the course when you're trying to be a nice and honest person; he tried to impress upon me the idea that if you are kind and passionate, you will inevitably & repeatedly encounter people who will harm you because they can do so without consequences. because if you care about being kind, they know you won't fight back. because if you care about your work, you'll do anything to keep doing it.

i have a really hard time with this perspective. again, i've lived through plenty of horrible things, no small number being directly related to injustice and prejudice, and i firmly believe that you don't get the chance to opt out of suffering in life. i know that there are worse things that happen on vastly different scales. i also know vocational awe and abuse is a real issue in the arts and in helping professions - i made it my life's work to help people who've suffered childhood trauma, as did my coworkers, but unfortunately the kind of people who run not-for-profits are rarely (if ever?) cool, decent people.

so i can't stop thinking about this day - i quit my job, even though i was eventually able to calm my boss down, because i have boundaries when it comes to yelling at work, but the excessive degree of cruelty sticks in my mind. i can't wrap my head around it because her behaviour feels so antithetical to anything i could ever even imagine doing to another person, especially in a workplace. i'm not obsessing over it, but this degree of meanness really sticks, you know? as we get older and encounter more people like this, how do we keep our hearts open? how do we make sense of cruelty when we have no way of fighting it or reasoning with it? as we get older and get a better sense of how limited our power is in the world, how do we let go and move on without losing hope?

I think we are able to let go and move on without losing hope because "letting go" is not surrendering our own capacity for action--it's surrendering the belief that we should be able to (if we are truly "good and virtuous" enough as people) control the responses and decisions of other people.

I think it's very easy to conflate the two: that letting go is the same as not caring, but they aren't mutually inclusive things in the least. And I think this idea maybe comes from the same perspective you described your older friend as having (and I am with you in this, because I do not abide by that belief either)--that if you are kind and passionate, you will inevitably & repeatedly encounter people who will harm you because they can do so without consequences. I think the biggest issue I have with this (and I have many) is that it assumes a responsibility for others' actions that you are not obliged to have. And in doing so it actually erases the notion of accountability (which we do have) by putting the brunt of it on a single party, effectively absolving the other (the person who acted cruelly and caused you harm in the first place) of any responsibility they themselves have. It's a perspective I don't like because it negates itself without realising, or acknowledging, that it does so but still posits its view as an undeniable truth about the world: by its own logic people have enough agency to act in cruel ways because they know they can get away with it (which implies a conscious, measured, analytic decision), but somehow not enough agency to be held responsible for that decision in the first place.

It's not an objective statement, but a self-fulfilling prophecy: if you are going to be responsible for other people's unwarranted mistreatment of you, then, yes, caring and sincerity aren't worthy endeavours--but only because you have actively created, and justified, a world in which your right to behave callously takes precedence and is, therefore (whether this is conscious or not, admitted or not), valued. And at its heart, I sometimes think that is what statements like this are about: they're an indicator of what we value in this world, even if we don't realise it, or would be horrified to realise it

I think that because this idea is so prevalent and exists in so many different variations--the idea that you have to guard yourself against others because people will "always" take advantage of you otherwise--it trickles down even to those of us who don't believe it; you convince yourself that any mistreatment has to be a failing on your part: your kindness wasn't good enough, your attempts at understanding weren't empathetic enough--in short: you made a bad investment and therefore you were not good enough. And when we fall into this trap, the same thing happens to us as happens to the person who harmed you: you lose sight of your own agency and your own capacity for decision-making, and the role these occupy in every interaction, for every person.

Being kind, open, and sincere, to me, are things that have very little, if anything, to do with other people--they are decisions that I have made regarding my conduct, my beliefs, and my hopes for the kind of world that I want to live in, and the world I want to build with each interaction I have with someone else. They are not a means of measuring my own worth in the eyes of others, or proving myself to people to show that I am good enough, I can be good enough, that if you let me show you who I am, what I am, how I am then surely this can overcome anything (because I am giving everything I have) and you can accept me and therefore I can accept myself--because the fallout of that is, like I said, that if someone rejects it and decides instead to offer cruelty, the edifice of my entire being falls apart: why? because I have hitched it all on someone else's decision. The decision that I made, the decision that I came to as a result of all my experiences, all my hurts and beliefs, all that I have learnt and unlearnt in order to get to a place where I can exist in the world in a way that gives me fulfillment (in essence: the sum of my entire life)--all of that suddenly doesn't matter anymore, and why? Because someone else decided to be shitty?

This is what I mean about agency, and about our own capacity for action. Someone else's choice doesn't have to be mine. But it is their choice. And if you offer kindness and are met with callousness, that is a choice on their part, not yours. Letting go of others' cruelty towards you, and cruelty in the world at large, is not letting go of your own beliefs or changing who you are and how you approach or live in the world. It's simply saying: this is me, and that is you--otherwise it'd be like deciding that you no longer like oranges because some random person thinks clementines are gross.

I don't necessarily believe that all acts of cruelty are beyond understanding, but I also don't believe that understanding is going to come as some kind of revelatory moment that will make it all make sense. But what I do believe is that, sometimes, especially when it comes to people treating us as horrifically as your boss treated you (and I really am so sorry that you were forced to endure something so awful for that long), when we look for understanding, what we're looking for is a justification: that there has to be a why to explain it all and tidy these painful interactions up like a neat and indisputable equation. But I don't believe that they are always the same thing. If I were to take any of the hateful rhetoric I see around me--sexism, racism, homophobia etc--and try to understand it I know I won't and never could, and I'm thankful for that: because, for me, the very moment it begins to make sense to me is the moment I have seen something in it that can be justified and that will never ever be the case. But what I can understand is how we have a world in which these exist--I can see and recognize all the various points of power and domination that require a constant renewal and generation of such intense violence and hate in order to maintain a status quo whose sole priority is its own preservation, at the brutal cost of anyone and everything else. That, in situations like these, is what understanding is to me: it isn't acceptance or justification but knowing how certain aspects of this world work so that I can make the decision to refuse them.

The key thing, I think, in trying to understand why people treat us unkindly, is knowing that we can refuse it, not by negating it as a reality (this is naivety and can, sometimes, be just as insular as blind cynicism) but recognising that sometimes people respond in ways that are the result of factors that have nothing to do with us personally--they could be the result of traumas, immaturity, selfishness, bad behavioural feedback loops or simply plain pettiness--but it isn't our job to somehow fix that for them.

When it comes down to it, at the heart of most pessimism (and some cruelty) is a reservoir of fear or pain, or some concoction of the two. Our world is a profoundly fucked up place, in many regards, and all of us accumulate a host of hurts and traumas as a result of that: you cannot always control the things that happen to you but you can control the decisions you make about your life and the actions you choose to follow as a result. Your boss made a calculated, deliberate decision to berate you in the most painful and humiliating way possible--this had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with her. People who decide, consistently, to act cruelly will do so regardless of who is on the receiving end: it isn't about the person they target, but about whatever this cruelty and targetting validates for them and that is a choice. You cannot understand why she would do this to you because you know there is no justification for it. And that is something to hold on to because already it shows you that you are absolutely not like her. And that is where your agency and your ability to not lose hope lies.

I think the only way, sometimes, that I have managed to deal with this (and despair in general at the things that happen in this world sometimes) is to recognise what I can control and what I can't. It doesn't make things less painful, but it does make them less crippling. Whatever has happened in people's lives, the views they take as a result and the decisions that they then make--that isn't something I can change. All I can account for is how I respond, learn and grow from my own experiences. Other people can have their truths about the world, but I also have mine: and I assert it over and over again through the people I surround myself with, through the little actions I take to try and make it all as bearable as I can for myself and others, where I'm able to. I think, for me, recognizing the world's duality is part of that: knowing that cruelty exists, that pain exists, that senseless violence exists and knowing, too, that beauty exists, that graciousness, and openness, and kindness exist--and that I can resolve to bring more of those into the world and less of the others, even if it's only in my tiny corner of it. It may be small, but it exists. And if my life is a testament to nothing else but that, then I know I'll have spent it sincerely, regardless of what others choose to do with theirs. I really hope this helps you somewhat, anon 💕

[art-of-mathematics]

i need to rant again (sorry in advance).

I feel very sad right now.

As I concretized what aspects I suffer under the most: it is primarily isolation and having nothing to do all day.

so i searched for volunteering opportunities.

(i want to volunteer) but seeing the offers for volunteering work almost being entirely a social volunteering activity made me very sad and frustrated.

and although i find that things like soup kitchen for homeless people are important and i value them - i do not know how i could integrate myself in there to do any activity where i would not just be entirely overchallenged by all social interactions stuffs. while also being bored of the tasks one could do here.

I searched further for any regular or any activities for autistic people or people with huge social inabilities- and it makes me so sad and angry... finding just the few scarce options i have also heard of already- occupational therapy, "work" therapy (which is very similar to occupational therapy), and then thats it for regular options.

for less regular options there is also very few options...

for volunteering work one also needs to be merely self-organized. and damn...

i just wish i had a job that i at least enjoy half of the tasks to do - and anything to do.

i hate being in this shitass huge city and having the same options as someone living in a damn tiny village... or forest.

//sarcastic: in a forest there might even be more options for me to engage with my environment than in this shitasshuge city of additional sensory torture...

it makes me so sad.

it feels futile.

like literally. the isolation and having nothing non-pointless to do make overcoming the shitty trauma far more difficult.

What can I do?

Talking with myself is an option I find even more depressing than just talking to no one for days.

its not even that i slightly like the isolation.

i hate it. i dread it! i prefer to live with some people in a shared flat. but this isolation chamber. i cannot take it.

but i mean: i am extremely privileged for living on my own, renting an apartment solely for myself. But I do not want to live for myself. It is isolating, debilitaing so. In a shared apartment there at least happens social interaction randomly, and I could even do the tasks I do already and would help someone with what i do. But this way its depressingly futile and lifeless.

I feel useless and like a damn burden.

This apartment I am living in is like the final storage facility of radiocative substances: its far away from any engagement places, on a mountain on the outermost edge of the city, with the only function to store and isolate the trash for many years and decades so it will finally fall apart one day, and does not annoy anyone with its existence.

damn. i feel so sad. i have very huge trouble sleeping since a week. i am tired. i am exhausted. breathing shallowly. cant focus. just mind fog. just shittt

am tired but cant sleep

can only complain.

i hate this futile attempt to "pull myself up by my own bootstraps". it is not only seriously energy-consuming, but also futile. But what else can i do?

fuck it. i am tired. yet cant sleep.

and dat thought circle now repeats itself 1000 times until i either get so angry or stressed that whatever might happen - or i might be able to navigate my fucked up mind into a different semi-disturbing thought topic.

i am tired.

yes, you are tired? tell me more about it. does it feel as if u got bread as brain?

yeah. totally. the bread is crumbling.

and what do we want to do with the crumbs now?

perhaps collect da crumbs, put it in a bowl (but not a holebowl) and then insert a liquid and stomp it very hard multiple times until it becomes dough again.

yay. we bake a tiny new brain bread now, dont we?

yeas, we do.

at least in our imagination it is that easy to get into a slightly better mental space - for few minutes - but that is a topic for another chapter.

no seriously. i have to come up with this kind of nonsense all the time because if i confuse myself with this kind of silly nonsense the shitty thoughts, feeling and memories get swirled around - and then they are less painful.

swirling the awful brain crumbs makes them feel as if they are disappeared - but only for the moment when i swirl the shit around. if the brain crumbsmsettle again it all starts to be unbearable again.

seriously this is exhausting. and why? damn why do i have to do this?

arent there more helpful/functional ways to deal with it?

if someone of you humans reading this knows a realitistic other functional compensation method, please feel free to tell me.

I am "am Ende meines Lateins" as that German saying goes. I have approached the end of having clues/ideas. Perhaps I have to accept I approached the invitable: the last station to Burnout and Boreout all at once!

the ring of running in a hamster wheel closes itself as the hamster approached light speed and time began to stand still.

as time stood still, all that was existent was the dead hamsters haunting memories,

still haunting him after he already succesfully died in one of his recursive nightmares.

but uhh. recursive nightmares are of a special kind... i assure you... but dont be sure about anything, thats for sure...

.. and that, my dear human beans, that is true irony.

legendary.

at least i can laugh about it - somehow. anyhow. whatever.

[wherethewordsare]

8 + 13 + 20 because i'm a perfect little angel

/ @horsedadgeralt

Fuck. alright 8 and 13 first from this ask list here

8 "If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?"

Totally go no dialogue. I've done some fics like that before and the idea of writing something between two characters without a word between them but them still being able to understand would be such a good challenge and I honestly would have a blast at it.

13 "What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?"

Uh. I am shit at writing kids lol. I just cannot. I was never really a kid myself and I have no real good sense of how to do them well. I'm running a dnd campaign right now and i have a pair of twins thats about to help one of my players and they're like 11 or 12 and boy howdy am i stressing over that interaction.

Easy? Oh baby, you know exactly what it is. Angst, baby! Heartache baby! Ruining lives and tearing out souls and crushing dreams, baby! Hurt no comfort forever!

20. "If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you’ve always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch"

(I am so sorry for the whole ass dissertation this question pulled from me)

I know this is very much against the nature of the question and it feels like an out, but I promise I will actually answer the question in a second but! I am not one to believe in true love, or at least a singular true love nor does the idea of being eternally happy appeal to me if it is the only thing I get to feel. Nor does as a creative the concept of perfection pretty much for the same reason. Perfection and eternal happiness leaves no room for the context of being able to strive for those things.

And the idea of a singular true love is disheartening just on a statistical level but also so limiting. I went through several ringers in the last few years which left me a very different person. But I was given those chances to change, to grow, to keep going. And I have. A true love and eternal happiness doesn't feel like it would have the same thing. There is no change, no shifting, a consistence that spans into a flat eternity.

So like the shitty answer is neither but that just feels lazy lol. Life's a bitch and you have to make choices too.

That being said.

WIPs come and go, projects change and creative endeavors crop up when you least expect them. It's a hobby of mine and one that I enjoy. I have always been ambitious and I have always burned. But maybe. I wouldn't have to do that alone. Just because I get true love, whatever that looks like, doesn't stop. Though now realizing that maybe being eternally happy means finding contentment and thus no need to be ambitious. (this is turning into a real monkey's paw my guy). But after the last however long... Maybe some peace would be an extremely welcome change. So yeah. True love I suppose.

[sassbuttuniverse-blog]

Life after College

It's currently 5:44 in the morning, and no i am not a morning person. I haven't gotten any sleep yet because surprise surprise, at the age of 23, my sleeping schedule still sucks. I found myself logging on to this tumblr account. I guess I just really feel alone at the moment. Life update everyone, I am now a degree holder - plus plus plus *insert drum roll please* I am now also a license holder. Yes you heard it right, this procastinator passed the board exam for psychometrician. Duuuuude, i don't even know where to begin. So last year after graduating college, i got a job as an HR assistant for a veterinary clinic/cafe. I thought I was already set for life like yes-i'm-finally-an-adult-kind-of-moments, but ofuckingcourse, the universe hates me still and gave me a job that not only is morally depriving, but also mentally exhausting. Imagine working in a company where everyone knows each other because it's literally a castle of nepotism. Everyone is related to one another - yes related, as in they're all relatives. Blood relatives. It's hard to work as an HR when i have to give out sanctions to normal employees and let the bosses and other employees in the back office do whatever they want to do without any consequences. I felt caged, like going to work everyday is like a punishment to me. I even cry in shower because of how I dread going to work everyday. I cry to my boyfriend, to my friends, to my sister, and everyone inside my circle. On top of that miserable chapter of my life, my HR manager was a bitch who makes it her mission everyday to piss me off and let me do ALL the work while she just sits there all day doing nothing and takes all the credits for my hardwork. You know those type of adults that doesn't know how to move on from being a mean girl in highschool. She's like that. She thinks she's cool and all being loud and making fun of everyone. Fuck that shiiit. Long story short i only lasted for 3 months. I know, how pathetic. But I was literally losing my mind there and I felt that if I stayed I might get fired anyways because they don't like me. Why? Because they can't control and manipulate me into doing the things they want me to do. Which most of it are illegal anyways. No thanks, i'm good. See you never, assholes. So after resigning at my job, i decided to enroll in a review center to pursue my journey in getting the psychometrician license. To be honest, i think 80% of my reason on why i decided to pursue it is because I wanted to have an excuse on why I resigned. Like I'm convincing myself and the people around me that it's okay that i'm unemployed, I'm doing something more important anyways. I studied for 8 months and luckily i was able to pass the board exam last August. I was so happy and proud of myself. But it didn't last long because here I am now, after 3 months of passing the board exam, I'm still unemployed. I don't know why but i stopped looking for jobs online. I just stopped functioning. I feel like no job is suited for me. I want to practice my license and profession but there is no opportunity here. I kept looking online and the only jobs there is are all corporate related. Yes, HR again. I don't want to be an HR officer again, i dread it, like it makes me physically and mentally ill just thinking about it. So now I'm stuck and unmotivated and sad and all the other shitty feelings there is in this world. I feel like everyone around me is starting their lives already and I'm still here. Stuck. I wish I could start my life now too.

Anyways, future me, if you're reading this i hope you have a job already. You're not getting any younger, I hope you pull your shit together already. Make us proud. Live this life. Explore, travel, and meet other people. Don't hide in the house and rot in your room. Go to cafes, watch that movie in the cinema. Eat alone if no one wants to come with you. Just live. 23 year old us is currently a loser so I hope you're doing better there. Love you xx

[viceandmen]

Dear friends,

There’s also something so cathartic being able to talk with y’all. It’s such a reciprocal relationship. I gab; you listen. I don’t ask for advice and you don’t give it.

Muah, truly chef’s kiss 🤌🏽

If I remember correctly my writing entails sharing about the revolving door of men and female friends in my life. Sometimes I sprinkle in my professional woes. No more drunk shenanigans as I’m coming up on 5.5 years no booze tomorrow.

I still get my kicks from trying to fix my world with relationships. Currently I’m involved with the boy across the street. After my two and half year relationship dismantled, I found a boy in AA to wipe away my tears but sadly his pen15 couldn’t get hard. Oopsies I suck at anonymity. Sue me.

And then the text came:

He had texted me about a year earlier which I not-so-politely ignored. This boy was my kryptonite and I was dating my ex. The last time I opened a dialogue with The Neighbor I ended up cheating on my first boyfriend. Another oopsie.

I was single and not really ready to mingle. The Broken Dick Boy cutting things off prematurely hurt my heart. Which goes to show how desperate I am for companionship. Willing to be with a boy who couldn’t pleasure me properly ooof.

But The Neighbor texted me and it felt like the clouds parted and the sun was shining on what I was searching for. We had met in 2016 and bonded over our mutual attempt at sobriety. I fell in lust or premature love, there was something that pulled me in. Sorry first ex boyfriend you were absolutely collateral damage in my quest for love. It’s not that yours wasn’t enough, I wanted more.

We both relapsed and found sobriety a few different times between 2016 and now. We both had separate relationships that ended. And here we were, both single, living across the street from one and other, and trying to remain drug and alcohol free.

So imagine how heartbroken I was after hanging out a few times to find out he had taken to drinking once more. And I’m a classic I-can-fix-it gal, I didn’t run, I got sucked in even further. I wasn’t about to let a six pack of hard ciders a night ruin my love story.

Oh how my heart fluttered when I got this text. THIS WAS IT. He wanted to get healthy with me by his side. GOD WAS DOING IT!

It was my pleasure escorting him to detox, receiving phone calls each night he was gone, and to pick him up with the widest of open arms. So fuck us both that a month later we’re back in this shitty threesome of me, him, and the booze.

I don’t want to leave him, I don’t want to take my sponsor’s suggestion and run, I want to stay. But boy am I uncomfortable. The change in his attitude, the way he nonchalantly makes digs at me, the spotlight on my defects. I want to hate him. I just hate this goddamn disease.

I’ve got 18 minutes left of my shift and I need to pee and make a coffee because afterwards I need to go across the street and grovel. When I found out yesterday he had maybe plans to go to the beach with a girl from high school, I let my jealous/insecurity send me into a reactionary rage of silence and tears.

My words escaped me and I pulled up a text thread from my girlfriend earlier. I wanted to text her to see if I was overreacting or reacting normally. But before I could, he came behind me to hug me. Instead of swiping the text away, I scrolled letting him see that I made plans to possible trip shrooms with her after achieving a year of sobriety from marijuana.

That was a mistake. He has mentioned weeks ago the idea of us doing them together on a mountain top and he thought because I felt hurt about him going to the beach I purposely pulled up the convo to hurt him back.

Maybe I subconsciously did. I bite back quickly and hard when I feel threatened. Not my favorite trait. Usually I’m so polite and perfect (sarcasm).

So I’m gonna go piss and plot how to make him feel safe when the irony of him drinking again makes me feel the opposite.

It’s the moments like this where I think everything will be alright. And we’ll be alright. That we’re just soulmates going through some soul problems.

Fuck me and my delusional romantic heart.

Until next time,

Yours truly.

[galunacycheckyourheadtour]

Playing diagnosis roulette and hitting the jackpot.

The sun was out yesterday, as I drove along the seafront to a medical appointment that I had been dreading - I was hoping it was a good omen. For a nice change, it was…

As you will know, my mental health has been bad for a while now. Things really came to a head a couple of weeks ago, when I had to admit myself to the mental health crisis care team, because I was having some seriously bad thoughts. Still one of the scariest moments of my life. My mood has been all over the place some days I was good, some days I was sky high, some days bad and some days I just don't remember. But, I was also suffering from a variety of baffling other symptoms, including restless legs, severe muscle aches/pains, bloating, cognitive issues; not being able to put sentences together out loud, not remembering simple facts, getting hurt, upset and paranoid about the tiniest things, spotting and the insomnia has been wild - 3 hours sleep per night, max for the past 3 weeks. I honestly thought I was starting to go mad and I did not know what the end would be. Since then, I have been having a barrage of blood tests, scans, daily check-in calls, referrals and everything in-between. I was cleared for several cancers, ovarian cysts, a hysterectomy was suggested and several other things. It was exhausting, each of these potential diagnosis/ solutions really took time to process and scared the shit out of me. But onwards I went, each time I would see someone new, have to go through the whole story again and then I would lurch into the next load of tests and theories. It was like a merry go round or shitty go round in this case. I had started to think maybe everything was in my imagination or it was simple just my wonky headedness, just being extra wonky. During this time, devastatingly, I had to pull out of a job that I was so excited about, as I was just not well enough to cope with even the most basic of things. I was taking it hour by hour, literally - I would note every hour down on a post it and score it off. In all honestly hoping that external forces would interfere and it would all end for me. It felt bleak again - back to square one, letting people down again. A complete and utter failure. I did not know how to tell my friends and family, so I didn’t. I just panicked about it, I really started to doubt I would ever get a job again. All through this, the NHS has been my constant and I was so lucky to have them. I am not sure I would be sat here typing this if it wasn't for certain individuals on the team. Anyway, to the appointment, I met with a mental health specialist who took me through all the results, and listened to me. She really listened - for a whole 45 minutes. She was incredible, calm, pragmatic, kind and just made me feel heard. I had bought my journal with me which had dates when things had been especially bad and we started to put the pieces together. The list of symptoms, everything.

She explained that she believed that I have a condition called PMDD, which is basically a severe form of PMS. (How typically Galun that I would have an extreme of something!!! )It is a condition I had never heard of and was intrigued. She went through the symptoms line by line - and everything just fit - absolutely everything. That on top of my pre-existing mental health condition, it all equals the perfect storm of wonky headedness!! So the answer, firstly is I go on medication and this could all be managed very easily in a couple of months. It might not be straightforward, but it is manageable and with diagnosis comes options. She talked about other patients (not by name obviously) who were very similar who had suffered for years - got the diagnosis and were different people in weeks. There is hope and frankly, I will take hope because that is something that I have been seriously lacking recently. The path has been far from straightforward to diagnosis. I had not even heard of this condition before yesterday, but it so common, just not talked about very much. I got home and typed it into google - I saw a link to the Mind website. There it all was in black and white, everything, including testimonials from other women who were saying exactly the things I was going through the - suicidal thoughts to thinking that they had gone loop the loop,two weeks good, two weeks bad - everything. I had a big ugly cry, as I think there is a comfort to diagnosis but also a stark moment, where you realise that this could have been diagnosed years ago. I think this has been going on for a long time with me.

It is very easy, in a stressed system for anti-depressants to just be chucked at anything mental health related and hope it all goes away. I had to persist hard with the other symptoms, as I knew something else was going on. But it was hard and I felt several times like I was fobbed of. In a stretched medical system it is very hard to give something the full symptom check that luckily this doctor did and I will forever be grateful. My counsellor was the person who encouraged me to journal and keep mood diaries and I am so glad that I kept that up. It meant we could put the pieces together and see the link to the disorder. So feeling grateful, I walk into a new phase - it could be a rough month ahead with the new meds but there is light at the end of the tunnel.

[barbwritesstuff]

Okay.

I need to talk about Roe.

I've kind of talked about them a little already. But I need to talk about them properly now because I am going around in circles and I need some other perspectives on this.

Blood Moon is at first draft. Kinda. There is still a missing chapter and the epilogue needs some zhuzhing up (by probably a few thousand words, let's be honest). But, overall, it's done. You all know, if you've played the demo all the way through, the story.

And, as many of you have noticed, Roe isn't currently a big part of that story.

This wasn't my original intension. The Pack B storyline didn't come out the way I planned it. I thought I had enough space between chapters 6 and 12 to:

Develop 3 additional ROs (Shawnie, Roe, and Farro)

Foreshadow and introduce Jay

Showcase how Pack B is different from Pack A

I was wrong. I had to change things around to make Farro and Shawnie work as ROs, was only able to very awkwardly shoe-horn Jay in, and really didn't explore the differences between the packs much at all.

But Roe got the worst of it. I originally imagined their romance as very slow, intimate, and conflicted... but that doesn't really work with the story as it currently stands. So they were left with a big fat lump of nothing.

I don't like it. In fact I hate it. I want to include Roe and their romance in the story. And I can, it just won't be the slow, intimate, tender thing I first pictured. It'll be a hint of something. A spark, but not a flame, and only available to a very niche group of players (those that become Alpha, flee the city, and don't romance anyone else until the very last chapter).

Or (and this is a painful idea I've been toying with for months) I could cut Roe from the story. I don't want to do that, because I love Roe. I love that they're an enby Alpha. I love that they're this quiet tragic hero. I love everything about them. But I can't deny this cut would work. Having a more morally questionable (and totally non romanceable) Alpha in charge of Pack B will make the middle part of the story more intense, and would help explain why Pack B isn't a reliable ally in the end.

It would also make Jay and showcasing the differences between the packs easier.

But the trade off is Roe which is just... a huge price to pay.

I genuinely don't know what to do. Every day I think I've made a choice, but then I open the files to action that choice (be it making Roe an obscure ending or cutting them entirely) and I change my mind.

I keep thinking I can save Roe for another book, or another game. But I also keep thinking they won't be the same. This is where they belong. But then I think about how shitty their ending is right now and I just... I don't know. I really don't.

I guess I just need an outside opinion on this. What do you guys think? Should I keep Roe even if they get a stunted romance and a kinda bad ending? Or should I pull them and save them for another story?

To make things extra hard here are some clips of them that are currently sitting in Blood Moon's 'extra scenes and stuff' file:

Please just take me out back and put me out of my misery. Being a writer is too damn hard.