#coffee-without-anesthetics

[tired-and-unjellied]

me watching you make hand jokes under my post (you are acting Just Like one of the characters from that game)

I can't tell if this is joy despite the emotional pain or a "wait until I get my hands on you, you lil' shit!" grin

I guess I will need some cognitive elbow grease to figure that one out

[kayoi1234]

[polarmary]

distracting asks: 3, 5, 8, 12, 25, optional 7 :3

Hii itha!! ty for the ask!!! <333 3. 5 songs you have been recently obsessed with? Harpy Hare (Yaelokre), Alice (PEGGY), Tale of The Shadow (Sail North), Espresso (Sabrina Carpenter), Peasant's Throne (Lilith Max)!

5.What was the last thing you watched? Youtube Videos - something about disappearances in National Parks Shows - started rewatching Re:ZERO

8.Name something you are looking forward to? Go visit my grandma and spend the afternoon on the couch with her

12.Favorite comfort drink? Hmmm either natural orange juice or strawberry milkshake

25.Talk about something you love? Creating! either by drawing, painting, sculping, origami, crochet and so on. I love how you can think about something and just.....make it real for everyone to see. I dont know how to put it into words bfnieruhso

[deepdwellingsteamboat]

Make a poll of your favorite female characters (no limits – as many or as little as you want) and see which your followers like the most

Thanks for the tag @eternalergo and @corffiser 🌟

No pressure tagging: @six-demon-bag, @andromedaholic, @zemos-bathrobe, @ithilien-wolf, @coffee-without-anesthetics

[rikushka]

Ahem

which greek god are you (but somewhat detailed)

My best friend made a quiz! I'm gonna start a chain because she'd like that and I can. This was mine,

No pressure at all :)

@coffee-without-anesthetics @lastdivantruther @bunniezai @spiderbends @irish-journal @someonebeatmetotheseusernames @shroom-sprouts @lyloneliness @lotus-pear

[arc-archernar]

beloved the bestie sent me a cool personality quiz that might be fun . tag game now (attempt)

^ this me!

no pressure tags: @coffee-without-anesthetics @74n5n @iqmmir @seariii @5567i82 @stuffedsand @kaoharu and anyone else who wants to join!

[this-sapphic-paradise]

Continuation of this ask

Sharp pain emanated from Kate's side, but thanks to Yelena's magical and definitely not FDA approved anesthetic, it was quickly fading to a dull pulsating that she could mostly ignore as she watched the former Black Widow meticulously arrange on the coffee table everything she would need to stitch her up.

"I didn't know you were back in the city." Kate said, looking away from her own body as Yelena began sewing her up.

"What kind of spy would I be if you knew about my comings and goings, eh?"

"True."

After a beat, Yelena answered truthfully, "I had a lead about a person I've been investigating. Thought I'd drop by and check in you while I'm here."

"I'm glad you did." Kate smiled softly, momentarily distracting Yelena from the task at hand.

"Yeah, I mean, you clearly can't survive without me."

"Pfft!" Kate scoffed playfully. "I could totally do that myself, you know!"

"Has nobody told you it's bad to lie, Kate Bishop?"

"Pot, meet kettle!"

Yelena frowned and looked around her. "Are you making tea?"

Kate chuckled and shook her head. "It's an expression."

After quick work with the stitches, Yelena cleaned up and grabbed two beer bottles from the fridge, offering one to Kate as she joined her on the couch.

"Thanks for patching me up." Kate said, holding her bottle up to Yelena who clinked it with hers.

"Any time."

The two drank and chatted, catching each other up on their very eventful lives. As the hours ticked by and the topics to keep their conversation going naturally dwindled, Yelena asked abruptly, "Do you go out with women, Kate Bishop?"

At Kate's completely befuddled expression, Yelena clarified, "Sexually, I mean."

"Oh, no, no. I got you..." Kate blinked, trying to wrap her head around the sudden shift in conversation.

"It's okay if you don't."

Yelena's nonchalant tone was making Kate even more perplexed, but she tried to play it cool by taking a swing of her beer before answering.

"I mean... I haven't. But...."

"But?"

"I wouldn't be opposed to."

Yelena grinned at the cute blush on Kate's cheeks, but she chose to not comment on it.

"Great." Setting her empty beer bottle down, Yelena stood and said, "You're taking me on a date tomorrow night, then." And she kissed Kate's cheek before heading toward the window. "I'll meet you downstairs at 7. Plan something fun, Kate Bishop."

With a wave and wink, Yelena stepped off the window leaving a stunned Kate to plan their date.

[saturnine-saturneight]

Teeth

Dear Mr. Caradoc,

this is me emailing you so you have this in writing, just like you asked me to. I'm nervous to leave a paper trail, for obvious reasons, but I also trust that you aren't going to use this against me. On the other hand, I am grimly excited. Like this, nobody will be able to say that I didn't ask for help before it was too late, least of all you.

Which brings me to my point: please, for the love of God, help me. I've tried everything by now, dentists, doctors, family, friends, nobody can help me. They are all itching to send me to a therapist, or better yet a closed institution, and as fast as possible too. But I am telling you right now, if you call the police on me for a wellness check and I am locked away, my blood is on your hands.

With that out of the way: Here is what you didn't want to hear from me the other day at the coffee machine, properly and in writing.

It all started early one morning. I usually wake up around five these days, but I remember it being even earlier that day, I think around 3am or 4am. Did you know that we feel pain stronger at night than during the day? I looked it up. It peaks exactly at 3am. But even without looking that up, I could've told you, because the pain I felt that morning was something I'm never going to forget.

Have you ever gotten a root canal, Mr. Caradoc?

I did, two years ago. It was my lower molar, the first on the right side. I can still see the filling, I think, when I pull my lips back—well, I could, anyways. My dentist did a pretty good job all around, not just with the actual procedure, but also in explaining to me how it works. When a tooth is infected or inflamed down to the pulp, the very inside underneath enamel and dentin, what they will do is, they will bore a hole in the respective decaying tooth, and then hollow it out completely, removing everything within it that's alive, and then fill it with something dead and inert, with rubber and cement. And although it is a dead man walking from then on, surrounding tissue is able to keep such a tooth alive, as my dentist told me, almost indefinitely. He did an excellent job hollowing me out, but it was a bad day to find out that I don't properly respond to the anesthetic he used.

It was that same pain that I felt again that morning, at 3 or 4 in the pain hour, and that was what I was looking for in the mirror as I was standing there in the dim grey light and pulling my mouth open with a finger. A sign that my root canal had to be redone.

But what I saw instead was, and I know how difficult this is to believe: a tiny, tiny dark door, hollow, maybe more of an archway, smaller than the pin of a needle, carved right into the enamel of my tooth.

The first thing I did was of course to call my mom up in a panic. She had to spend twenty minutes calming me down before I'd stopped crying for long enough to take a picture of it, and then when I did and sent it to her, I could immediately hear the pity in her voice. She told me that it was a very normal thing to have nightmares like this during pregnancy, and that she had gone through the exact same thing when she was pregnant with me. I have to admit that I got very angry at her for it. I know what a nightmare is, I am not a child. I was wide awake. People all around me have taken on this patronizing air towards me ever since I've started showing, as if carrying a baby somehow negates everything I have accomplished and everything I am, and has turned me into some fragile stupid thing.

I hung up on her. I'm not proud of it. We haven't been on the best of terms anyways, and I'm sure this didn't make it better.

Four hours later, I stood on my dentist's doormat, practically banging at the door to be let in. I was overjoyed when he opened my mouth to inspect the molar and immediately agreed to give me a filling, but it only struck me why he'd told me to take the day off as I was inspecting the molar in the rear view mirror of my car, and all he had done was to fill in the archway, leaving the intricate carvings around it alone. And they were intricate now: It was as if somebody was miming pillars around the hole in my tooth. I stormed back into his office in distress, and found myself set up with a blanket and some hot tea in the waiting room as one of the dentist's assistants patted my knee, instead of just filling the damn structure in.

I went home. What else was I supposed to do?

The next day, the pillars had been carved.

It went on like this. First there came windows, rows upon rows of them, with ledges and flourishes. Then, the next tooth showed a hole. Then the next. Archways started to grow steps to lead up to them. Windows became larger, more opulent. And the pain—I never saw the actual carving happen, not even once, but I felt it. I felt every single chip, every last line in them.

I saw dentist after dentist, convinced family to look into my mouth, friends, acquaintances, coworkers, even my boss, but there was always that same goddamned look of pity. The woman is going crazy, their faces seemed to scream, as they even stopped being able to see holes at all. But I am not crazy. This is not phantom pain. I know what is happening to me, and I need it to stop. I am being made a home for something, and I want it out.

My parents have asked me to move back in with them. I will be packing my bags next week, but I'm afraid that they aren't planning to help me with the pregnancy. If my suspicions are true, these bags will be on the floor of a mental hospital very soon.

I am asking you for your help because you have always been on my side, even back when I was fighting for accommodations for my morning sickness. I don't know who else is left to ask. I also don't know what I expect you to do about this anymore, but I need it to be something.

My jaw has started hurting.

Please.

Yours,

Kalinka Czajkowska

If you liked this, don't miss the continuation in the next chapter of Particle Decay! Ms. Czajkowska isn't going down without a fight.

Particle Decay taglist:

@gioiaalbanoart @noblebs @wyked-ao3

@cowboybrunch @writingrosesonneptune @marlowethelibrarian @cometkov

[tired-and-unjellied]

french 🫵 ?

don't remind me

[kayoi1234]

tagging my asks with my url? what an honor

also for shidou: his crime was theorized to be organ smuggling in T1, but turns out, he was the guy in charge of telling families with members in comas with no hope of waking up if they want to pull the plug and donate organs to patient who still have a hope of recovery!! distinction!!!

and then it happened to his own family and he realized Just What he was asking people this whole time. fun!!!

Oh wow so not Dr Malpractice I guess. But rather…Doctor Sad. He’s just sad. This man needs a hobby that isn’t smoking or saving lives. Something that involves building things, but shaking hands aren’t really an issue and the hobby is easy to get into but hard to leave but I assume he’s had that Doctor’s Salary for a while so it should be fine…

This is me saying he should get into building gundams.

[coffee-without-anesthetics]

EXPLODED HIM ????

[eshtaresht]

soooooo @coffee-without-anesthetics what are we feelin towards RS Puppis?? apart from insatiable lust

[mukuberry]

@coffee-without-anesthetics OI. MORE SONGS

ATASHI - SYUDOU

LIKE-LOVE CLIMAXITIS (DONGDANG COVER) - KOYORI

TELL ME YOU HAVEN'T HEARD ATLEAST ONE OF THESE. PLEASE

[iwaoiness]

Where's the good in goodbye

His mother gently pinches his cheeks once more, makes him promise for the thirtieth time that he will take care of himself and beat up any racist he encounters, and hugs him tightly before finally letting go and joining his husband, who continues to keep his sunglasses on in an attempt to disguise his tear-reddened eyes. They tell him they're going for coffee and Hajime nods.

Iwaizumi hastily brushes away the tears from his cheeks, gathering his resolve before turning to confront Oikawa. His eyes remain fixed on the ground, his brow furrowed, his lips drawn into a trembling line, and his nose tinged with red. Hajime smiles, a bitter mixture of sadness and love, because he has not yet boarded the plane and already misses him so much that it hurts where his heart dwells.

"What a crybaby" He says, his voice too hoarse and too low to get the mocking effect he wanted.

But it's enough for Oikawa to glare at him, his chocolate eyes wrapped in a crystalline coating on the verge of shattering.

"You're one to talk, Cryjime."

Iwaizumi laughs, stretching his arms out towards the love of his life.

"Come here, Tooru" And all it takes is those three words to make Oikawa collapses into sobs before hugging Hajime, who also holds him close, as if he wanted to rebuild him, as if he wanted to cage Oikawa inside him so as never to lose it.

They feel that something is torn inside them, that their hearts are now not beating, but stabbing. Not only Tooru is saying goodbye to Hajime, Hajime is also saying goodbye to Tooru because in ten days, when Iwaizumi starts his classes at UCI, Oikawa will be on his way to San Juan, and there won't be time or enough money yet to be able to travel. And this is what hurts them the most because it is the first time they're separated without knowing when they will be able to see each other again, whether it will be weeks, months or even years from now. Despite leaving Japan because there is not enough room for so much ambition, they are still children. Children on the other side of the world, in a foreign land, where culture is alien and language a barrier to be broken. Where they will have to learn by themselves to anesthetize loneliness and nostalgia in order to continue walking without feeling so much pain.

"Don't forget to do the house tour" Tooru whispers, the voice raspy and wet, as his hand strokes the hair at the nape of Iwaizumi's neck. Iwaizumi chuckles softly, his fingertips tracing soothing patterns along Oikawa's back, as he knows he likes.

"I won't."

"And call me once you arrive."

“Okay”

"And make sure to take good care of the lucky charm Takeru and I made you."

"Mmh" Hajime hums, sinking his face deeper into Oikawa's shoulder, taking a deep breath of his soft perfume, straining to remember it until they meet again.

"And you suck at doing laundry.” Oikawa continues, nestling deeper into the hug, sniffling through his nose before running the back of his hand across his cheeks. “I know you'll put white and coloured clothes together, so I stuffed colour catcher wipes in your suitcase."

"Are you my mom now?" teases Hajime, his smile growing wider as he feels Tooru's laughter reverberate against his chest.

"You wish, Iwa-chan"

They don't know how long they're still there, hugging and talking. Neither still able to look each other in the eye without feeling the urge to tear up the tickets and make the stay a little longer.

But the mechanical voice over the public address system alerting the passengers of the flight to Los Angeles, reminds that time is running against them.

Hajime holds onto Tooru a little tighter before reluctantly pulling away, though his hands remain linked around Oikawa's waist. They search each other's gaze, tattoo the colours of their eyes in their memory for fear that they will fade until they meet again, and then, Oikawa cradles Hajime's face between his hands, caresses his wet cheeks with his thumbs and they both close their eyes before kissing.

It's soft, it involves everything they can't express by speaking and it makes it seem like saying goodbye is less difficult.

"I have to go now" Hajime murmurs against his lips before kissing him once more.

"I know" Tooru whispers back, stealing yet another kiss.

They had hardly slept the previous night, etching their presence onto each other's skin, kissing until their lips hurt, transforming words into unbreakable promises. They had gazed at each other, committing even the smallest mole to memory, smiling and embracing as if tomorrow would never arrive.

"Wait, I have one last thing for you" Hajime interrupts, stepping away to retrieve his backpack, which he had left nearby, leaning against one of the pillars alongside the rest of his luggage. He crouches down in front of it, unzips the large pocket, and retrieves his favourite cap—the one adorned with the embroidered Godzilla figure next to the kanjis. With one swift shake, he unfolds it before standing upright and returning to Oikawa. Iwaizumi smiles at his confused expression before placing the cap over his hair. "Give it back to me when we meet again, Trashykawa."

Tooru blinks, reaching up to touch the cap before mirroring Iwaizumi's smile and nodding.

There's one last hug, a take good care of yourself, eat well and don't overdo like the idiot you are and an I love you too, Iwa-chan. Then Hajime's parents return. Tooru joins them, slipping an arm around Iwaizumi's mother, who reciprocates by wrapping her arm around his waist, while exchanging smiles with Iwaizumi's father, who offers encouraging pats on the back. They watches as Hajime swings his backpack behind his shoulders and hoists up his large suitcase, before turning to face them one last time.

There are no more words.

They wave goodbye, and as Hajime bows respectfully to his parents, tears well up in their eyes once more. Oikawa blinks rapidly, determined not to succumb to tears again. With that, he resumes walking towards the first security checkpoint, alone and without looking back.

The three of them linger in silence amidst the bustling Narita International Airport. Hajime's father noisily blows his nose with his sixth handkerchief of the day and his wife takes a deep breath.

"It seems like only yesterday when I first held him in my arms" She murmurs, her voice still tinged with moisture, yet softened with the tenderness only a mother can have.

Oikawa gives his second mother a gentle squeeze, tilting his head over her.

"Hajime will be fine. Even though he's a brute, he's responsible and strong."

"I know" She smiles warmly, patting his hand gently. "And I know you'll be fine in Argentina too, but saying goodbye to him and you will still hurt so much."

And Tooru understands that feeling so well. After all, he has just bid farewell to his soul.

...

i think i didnt wrote about iwaoi saying goodbye at the airport until now omg, hope u enjoyed it!!

u can find this and me on my ao3 🌻

🍉

[oboetemasuka]

"Dai dai dai"... or "mon amour"

On the YMMV TVTropes page, someone added an entry about the French translation of "I Love You". So I checked it out. Cool. Then I forgot.

Then @coffee-without-anesthetics made a post on the French translation of "All-Knowing and All-Agony", and I remembered.

First chorus: "Mon amour, parce que je t'aime je t'aime Mon amour, c'est parce que je t'aime"

Afterwards: "Mon amOuR, parce que je t'aime je T'aime Mon amOuR, parce que je T'aime"

So, the capital letters... MORT. Mort. Death.

[emtearzz]

I got tagged into a game so I’ll start here!

Tags: @coffee-without-anesthetics @evermorethecrow @j11nko @frenchonionsoop @someonebeatmetotheseusernames + anyone else!