#daily reminder to not take your frustrations and pain out on others!! dont grow to be 80 years old and yelling at people for forgetting to

[mbat]

its so annoying btw i tried bringing up my issue with my dad earlier and he was like 'oh noo youre being asked to do stuff that takes 3 minutes to do /s' and im like. motherfucker i dont care about doing chores theyre literally fine theyre literally whatever as long as i have music. what sucks is being treated like i shit on someones bed everytime i forget a chore or didnt do one that i didnt even know i was supposed to do. if these things were said to me in a normal tone i would not give a single fuck. in fact, ive been asked in a normal way literally so many times and its never an issue. its only an issue when im suddenly being treated like a criminal for the crime of gasp! not being perfect! sorry copper, i didnt know having imperfect memory was a crime! im sorry its completely my fault that these things dont get done and its tootally not also on you to remind me because i need reminders sometimes before you jump to arresting me!

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Anon said: tried to read through all your request rules, but I didnt specifically see which Characters you write for. If you do, could you write for Porco helping his S/o sleep? I have super bad insomnia most days, and I just really want something fluffy with Porco...just cuddles or stories or something. If you dont write for Porco though could you switch it with a AoT character you do write for, I'm not really picky. Thank you so much in advance! 🥺💗

Porco helping you sleep

{Porco x reader | tw:none | sleep help, fluff | canon }

{ "The Night School" C.1660-C.1665 By Gerrit Dou 1613-1675 }

Unmoving shadows cast into the empty white walls, slightly flickering with the flame on the white candle sitting on the nightstand. Half lidded eyes observe their small movements for they're the only interesting thing in this empty hotel room you've been assigned. 

Your beige uniform tucked into the small closest with a single hanger inside, the armband hanging on the closest door for easy reach. The squeak of the spring mattress chirping up whenever you moved to flip your too stiff pillow. 

Judging by the amount of melted wax collecting on the bottom of the candle, you've been awake for far too long. 

This isn't the first time this has happened, you're used to getting acquainted with the room's walls and shadowy furniture.

Sleep has abandoned you long ago, its friend insomnia visiting you daily instead. Only leaving every week or so to remind you of what you could never have, taunting almost.

You've tried to force yourself to sleep really, did every known trick in the book, you even tried mediation like Zeke has been preaching to you about, but to no avail. so you've started making peace with the thing, you know at least using the night time to get things done since you're not getting rest either way.

Books were your first friend, for staring at the walls could only be entertaining for so long, but now with your stash of books miles away back home, you're left with nothing else to do.

The nightstand drawer only contained an emergency gun with several bullets inside, and the pocket knife under your pillow wasn't interesting enough.

Getting up from the bed, you picked up the candle before slowly inching the creaky door open. Maybe a glass of water could help, who cares that this is your third time going for water in the last hour? Well hydration is important after all, or so you tried to bargain for an excuse to stretch your legs.

Attempting your best to glide through the old wooden boards without as much as a squeak, you headed towards the kitchen, passing through several other bedrooms in the process, probably all deep in dream land already.

Everything was too quiet, the sound of water filling the glass was the only thing interrupting the silence, its cool feeling going down your dry throat helped you a bit.

Drinking down what you can, you decided to take the rest with you back, a good excuse for a trip to the bathroom later. Although as you turned, a figure was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and staring at you.

"Isn't it too early for breakfast?" Porco said, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned, "you should get some rest while you can, we're getting thrown in the front trenches tomorrow." 

Just the mention of it made your stomach roll at the thought of staying in a muddy hole for days, the smell of gunpowder and yelling of soldiers, not to mention the crowded train rides back home.

"I know, it's just…" you stared at the water moving inside your glass while tilting it, "one of those days, you know?" 

eyes narrowing with his eyebrows pulling down in concentration, even Porco's sleep clouded mind could recognise the heavy bags under your eyes. The ride here used all of your energy and now you're too tired to even sleep.

Feeling an unpleasant weight on his chest, he wasn't sure what to say as he approached you, awkwardly leaning against the sink, a heavy sigh left him.

"You know, you should bother me more often, I don't mind it." His gentle tone was followed by a melancholic smile, "let's just...go to bed."

With that his hand wrapped around your wrist, loosely at first like he was reluctant about it, before it got more secure once you didn't pull away.

…

The old door gave out a creek as it closed behind you, the room dimmer than you left it with the candle you're carrying almost burning out. 

Looking at the small bed with a single pillow, you wondered how the two grown people would fit in it and judging by the frustrated look Porco was eyeing it with, he must be thinking the same.

Looking at him, your mind wondered back to all the battles you've fought together. For some reason the superiors always seemed more strick and harsh with him, especially after the paradise mission was launched.

Belitting and nagging, carelessly throwing him in risky situations.

Your grip tightened around the water glass, feeling growing thickness in your throat. "Hey...it's okay you can go to your room, you need sleep." You said moving past him to sit on the bed, "I'll be fine."

"Should've thought of that before waking me up, now scoot over." He said, rising an eyebrow and stepping closer.

"I didn't wake you up, you're just a light sleeper." Laying down, you stretched your limbs filling the bed, "there's no room, it won't fit."

Silence filled the room for a while, you could feel his eyes roaming over you, "Oh really? Well…"

One second, you were laying on the mattress while staring at his stubborn expression in confusion, the next a pair of arms was lifting you up as he stole your place before dropping you on him. His arm circled your waist not trusting that you won't pull away

"I made it fit." he looked at you with smugness in his eyes

His warm skin felt comforting against yours, contrasting with the cold room air, you could hear his slowing heartbeat with being so close to his chest, your legs slowly tangling to fit under the blanket covering you.

Apparently that's as far as his genius plan went, because after that an awkward silence filled the room.

"So...you made it fit huh?" You couldn't help but say, a grin slowly spreading on your face. 

Porco blinked in response, tilting his head, before his eyes stilled as his ears flushed. "Fucking god, you're such a-" his attempt to scold you was interrupted by a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.

Having a contagious laugh, soon enough you too joined him.

After it died down, the atmosphere was replaced by a much more relaxed one as his hold on you softened, more intimate than the previous one. 

"When I was a kid, i used to have trouble sleeping- well more like i was too stubborn to fall asleep." Porco said, trailing his finger up your back soothingly, "and since Marcel was stuck sharing a room with me, he'd tell me stories to get me to fall asleep."

"What kind of stories?" 

"...if you tell this to anyone I'm reporting you to the higher ups you for treason, they were flower stories." Clearing his throat, you could feel his heartbeat rising under you, 

Closely watching your reaction, Porco continued after some seconds. "now I'm not calling you a kid nor do i think it's as simple, i just think...we should give it a chance." 

With the heaviness of the blanket above you and warmth of his body underneath you, it was hard to refuse his request, especially with the way he looked at you so earnestly. 

You agreed, and felt his other hand reach to pull up the blanket more, tucking you protectively between his body and the soft fabric. 

"This first one is called...well i don't remember what names Marcel gave them, but it's about poppies."

Crimson red bringers of eternal sleep, their crumbled petals and dark centers often found in the ancient tombs of soldiers.

As the mother of nature, Demeter, mourned and grieved from the betrayal of Zeus, it wasn't only the mortal realm in which death loomed at every corner, for her own mind was a tormenting prison of never ending suffering.

And so a droplet of her blood sprang and flourished to create a six petaled flower, easing her heartache if only for a moment as the poppy put her to sleep, numbing the pain.

Following in her trail was a red carpet of poppies, soon enough death and sleep themselves wore the flower, red crowns resting on top of Thanatos's held up head and one almost slipping from Hypnosi's leaning one as he dozed off. for eternal sleep was only another name for visiting the underworld. 

A symbol of peace in resting and condolence for the loss of a loved one, became the poppy's role. 

"This is why you'd often see them in people's front pockets whenever we return home." Porco said, the light slowly vanishing from the room as the candle burned itself out, the flame snuffed.

You've never questioned why a delivery of poppies would always be on the requirements in each returning celebration, it's just always been there. 

Slow and easy breathes flew through you, lazily stretching your arms up till it met something soft. Porco seemed to tense as your fingers loosely combed through his hair, leaning into the touch after a while.

"Don't stop." He murmured, sleep clear in his voice as another yawn left him.

"Do you have any other stories?" Drowsiness sweeping through your mind, you buried your hed deeper against his neck, eyelids fluttering shut.

"Yeah just…" his hand stilled from behind you as he looked into space attempting to recall a memory, soon enough the soft stroking returned. "This one is about peony."

Named after none other than Paeon himself, these flowers lived up to their reputation of healing and honour, for they have their own story to tell.

How the peony came to be declared king of flowers.

During the Tang dynasty, empress Wu Zetian strolled through her garden. Frowning at the empty field of green covered in thick white blankets of snow, the harsh season not showing mercy for the plants.

With a new goal in mind to flip this dreadful looking graveyard of a garden, she set to defy nature for she is the ruler of the land and her word is law.

Per her majesty's order, all flowers shall bloom in the midst of winter's visit.

As the word travelled far, all the fairies in the land couldn't believe their ears, how could such delicate fragile petals grow amidst the storm and snow. For flowers only bloom in spring, how could we go against mother nature?

While merciless mother nature was cruel, she couldn't compare for the empress's strong rule. For the fairies feared for their wings as their knees shook in her presence.

When the sun shined again, it welcomed colourful fields of different flowers in full bloom. The empress was pleased with their sweet smell and proud colours, each one rivaling the other.

And yet, she stood still near one flower bed, eyes wide. The peony deified her words and stubbornly refused to open, only sticks and brittle leaves left in their place.

In a fit of rage, the empress banished the flower to a far away city, striping away their status.

Living up to their stubborn nature, the peony bloomed that spring the most beautiful flowers humans have ever seen, turning the city of Luoyang into a heavenly soft land as their petals danced through the wind.

But their beauty couldn't last long, for a hungry fire swallowed them all, under the order of the empress who turned their green to coal.

And yet to everyone's surprise, when the earth circled the sun again, the peonies were back in bloom. Springing from the ashes were their mesmerising big petals and soft colours. 

In their respect, the fairies crowned them for their bravery as the ruler of the flowers, for wasn't it for their sacrifice the flowers wouldn't have been freed.

"They stayed on the right way, even if it meant going against the world." Porco's slurred words were half muffled against the pillow, head buried in it, his eyelids seemed to get too heavy for him to force them open again.

Turning his head to the side, you felt his lips press a light kiss against your forehead before whispering a goodnight, his hold still comfortably secure around you as if you might slip away. 

Soon enough, you too drifted into sleep as only his soft snoring filled the room. The moon watching over both of you through the windows as her light barely reached inside. 

And at this instant, you didn't think there was anywhere else in the world you'd rather be. Thoughts of what the future holds were pushed to the back of your mind next to the past, for the present is now and what a waste it would be not to bask in these rare moments of peace in this horrible world

[highlonelylustfull]

1- July-2021

Today I had the first session with my mom and Mark. He immediately zeroed in on my and my defeatedness which was brought up by Dr. White in FL as well when I had a session with her and my mom. She noted how immediately my posture and demeanour changed. The default of compliance, knowing that I am not about to honestly and openly express myself with my mom as she's not able to handle it, and so I just comply and get smaller. Thats the only way that I can cope at this point is to emotionally detach.

Mark asked for a weekly recap and I was honestly about some highs and lows, when he asked mom the same thing she talked about how busy she is and then the rest of it was about Lariel which is annoying, avoidant, and copdepenant to think that someone else's news counts as your experience. Enmeshment.

She said that our conversations don't feel fake or superficial to her, which is alarming but also maybe she is incapable of having the kinds of conversations I would like to have. She at least acknowledged the underlying tension and the avoidance of certain topics.

When she read me her fears for me she got emotional and talked about basically my everyday reality. She said that I have been hit harder than any kid and am constantly being thrown curveballs and trauma, and she's worried that I won't be able to blossom or having an easy life. I didn't understand the fear in that because its all true. Mark and I were both nodding the whole time in agreement as in yes that is true and yes my life is hard and yes a lot of shit happens to me and no it does not stop and no I do not get a break. It was frustrating to see that she clearly doesn't see how her behaviour is contributing to making my life so FUCKING HARD. She is the biggest headache in my day to day life, she continually throws curveballs AT me and then gets upset at how I react making it even worse. She is the most stressful traumatic thing in my life hands down and that is why this is at such a breaking point for me. I need something to change in the way or boundaries, her behaviour, her communication, or just cutting her out of my life and looking for support in other ways. I said int he session that I feel like I can't put my whole weight on her and I have been actively seeking out other resources to help me because I can't trust her support.

When she was reading the assignment to me she acknowladged that she is growing mentally and emotionally and I am as well, both at different stages of our lives. So that gives me a little hope that she is becoming aware of her own faults and is becoming willing to work on her part of this relationship.

She misremebered the I am and have been doing everything in my power to better OUR relationship to bettering MYSELF. She acknowledged it and while that is true that I am and have been constantly bettering myself it discards the entire relationship aspect. She seemed to have a hard time saying or seeing that our relationship is/has shattered in a lot of ways, and added on to how important she is to me.

When I got to the fear.. that was rough. I didn't know if I could even say it as I was tearing up and had the biggest knot in my throat. Eventually I did, and she seemed taken a back, and left out my fear of the relationship ending or being irreparably damaged-clearly she doesn't feel that way even though she threatens me with it.

When it got to why I love her she waited for more I only could muster up two things one of which was a memory because at this point I have so little respect for her that I dont know why I love her other than she's my mother and so I am biologically programmed to withstand the throws of the relationship and try and better it because I'm her daughter. Which now that I think of it is something she drilled into my head about Ralph. That he's my father so I have to have him in my life and he's my father so that justifies a multitude of sins. I could see that she was underwhelmed or maybe even hurt by the lack of embellishment.

But what the fuck am I supposed to say? I literally called Riley last nights to give me ideas and remind me why I love my mother because all the things I love and value about most people.. she doesn't have. She is not loyal, she is not independent or strong, she is not loving ad nurturing all the time (so that didn't feel completely genuine to say), she isn't woke or working on herself, she isn't accountable, she isn't trustworthy, she isn't ride or die. A lot of the things I loved about my mom, things I used to brag about my mom are no longer true for me. She no longer is my best friend she is a constant source of trauma, pain, and material for group and therapy. She is constantly dissaponting me and being insincere and fake. I no longer feel like a priority on her list nor do I feel cared for or even taken into account. I feel like she is holding on to me with one hand and I am trying to get out of her grasp and just get some air but every fucking time, she pushes me down further and adds more mountain to climb. It feels like a never-ending story of Cali is mentally ill and I am a mom so therefore I am clearly not in the wrong or whatever other excuse she deems relevant. and I just have to eat it and drown a little more. It was hard hearing her talk about how hard and traumatic my life is and her just being so fucking blissfully unaware that SHE is the hardest, more traumatic, stressful, largest hurdle that I face in my daily life. That is why I am so fucking committed to fixing this and why I have and am putting so much of myself into this process because it is life or death for me. This is my breaking point. I can't live with this fake ass shit anymore and either the relationship gets better or I will have to cut her out or set firm boundaries and find other support and stability in my life because it is NOT her.

Then after we both finished, Mark asked her to recap how she felt about the assignment, the active listening, and about the content. She gave some bullshit dull answer, and Mark (THANK GOD) persisted that she be more specific. She basically blamed me and my "black and white thinking" as for the reason that I would feel that she is willing and able to cut me off at the drop of a hat. I asked to elaborate and reminded her of the conversation where she clearly threatened me saying "Just how much money do you need. You clearly want to divorce me, so how much money do you need!". She stated that thats not how she remembers the conversation and that actually she was setting a "boundary" with me and "clarifying" about where the financial support was going to come from and setting an emotional boundary with me about what she was not willing to discuss with me at that time... Then our time was up and Mark recaps that he feels like he's leaving us hanging but that ya know Rome wasn't built in a day and these things take time.

Overall I feel like it was a good first step to starting to dig into the REAL problem and exposing how deeply I am hurt and how immense this problem really is.

[toosicktoocare]

prompt:  Would you consider writing for persona 5 since you like akechi x akira? If so can I put in a request for akira taking a nasty hit for akechi, but they're all out of healing items and are drained of energy. So they're desperately driving back to the entrance of mementos with akira in the back of the car and akechi holding his hands over the wound trying to keep him awake and realizing just how much he cares about Akira Of course dont feel obligated to write this!

Akechi operates daily on a plan. Every move taken, every word said all fit into a single, calculated, overarching plan that leaves no room for error, no room for emotions. Everything must play out crisp and precise, and this, Akechi thinks, his mind operating far too fast for his liking, this is not according to plan.

They’re fighting an archangel in Mementos, something familiar, something they’ve fought multiple times before, and Akechi didn’t mean to get distracted for just a breath of a moment, eyes briefly flicking to Akira when the leader stumbled after blocking a hit. He didn’t mean to avert his gaze, but in the second he did, the archangel turned to him, moving wickedly fast, too fast for Akechi to even begin to evaluate a counter-attack or block.

He only managed a gasp, a whispered “shit,” before something long, black, and flowing jumped in front of him, protecting him, taking a sharp hit from the archangel’s sword. No, Akechi concludes as Akira drops to ground in front of him, this is one-hundred percent not apart of the plan.

“Joker!”

“I’m out of healing items!”

“Me too!”

Their voices sound distant to Akechi’s ringing ears. He can just barely make out the desperation clinging to their tones, and without meaning to, he chases it, he moves with his racing heart until he’s crouched down, hands hovering over Akira’s limp form, unsure of how to act, unsure if he should assess the situation logically or emotionally.

“Crow, get him out of here! I’m calling Panther for back-up!”

That makes sense. Logical sense. It’s the best course of action, and Akechi clings to the clarity as he slowly helps Akira to his feet, arm snaking around Akira’s waist when the latter sways on his feet. Akira groans against the movement, his gloved hand moving instinctively to his abdomen, and Akechi follows the shaking motion, frowning at the blood that blends in with Akira’s glove.

He guides the leader back toward Morgana’s bus, helping Akira climb into the back seat with careful, steady hands. Even in the dim bus lighting, he can see the stark pale complexion that blends in frighteningly with Akira’s white mask, making the black around his eyes appear darker than before.

Akechi holds a hand up to Akira’s eyes, a defensive sign that Akira nods weakly at, and slowly, he removes Akira’s mask, frowning at the pain that pulls at Akira’s face and coats his eyes. Sweat’s beading at his forehead and sliding down his temples, yet he’s shaking slightly, and Akechi swallows back against a lump molding to his throat.

“You are a complete idiot,” Akechi mutters under his breath, pulling his attention toward the gash that’s ripped across Akira’s abdomen, blood pooling out past his red gloves. “Do you hear me? You are the dumbest person I’ve ever met.” His voice is shaking slightly, but he pushes past it, gently prying Akira’s hand from the wound to further inspect it.

It’s, as he expected, bad, really bad. The skin is broken, swollen and red around the edges. The blood loss is frighteningly impressive, and Akechi takes a small moment to consider that this should have been him, not Akira. He can heal on his own and still work through his extended plan, but Akira getting hurt... for him. That’s different.

He can hear the others running back to the bus after successfully killing the archangel, and Morgana revs the engine, a sign to hurry the others. He needs to put pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding, and it would be ideal for Akira to lie down. But that wouldn’t leave room for the others, so he scans the backseat bench for a moment before sighing.

“Can you scoot forward a little?”

Akira locks eyes to his, and there’s so much trust pushing past the pain that Akechi has to look away and clear his throat. His heart is still racing, though the adrenaline from before has been slowly replaced with a muted, gripping fear that he wants so desperately to ignore.

Akira slides forward, not without hissing sharply against the pain that Akechi can only imagine is unbearable, and once he’s on the edge of the seat, Akechi very carefully shifts around until he’s seated behind Akira, legs spread so that Akira has room in front of him.

“Lean back against me.”

Akira complies, leaning heavily against Akechi’s chest, his energy fleeting. Akechi moves his mask up away from his eyes, resting atop his head, and he slips both arms around Akira, pressing both, gloved hands to the wound. Akira hisses once more, a wince pulling at his face, and Akechi frowns when Akira’s head rolls tiredly to the side.

“Stay awake, Joker,” he mutters into Akira’s ear. “This is not your time to die.”

“What if it is?”

There’s no fear to Akira’s tone, no hesitation, just quiet acceptance that has Akechi’s muscles going rigid.

“It’s not,” he spits out. “Morgana,” he growls, and Morgana revs his engine again, harder this time, and the others come piling in soon after.

“How is he?”

“That’s a lot of blood!”

“Drive, Morgana!”

Everyone’s shouting, all worried for their leader, and for the first time, Akechi gets it. There’s a pit growing in his stomach. It’s uncomfortable, and it’s pulsing along fear and anxiety, and right now, he cannot do a single, damn thing to fix the situation. That, he thinks, is the most frustrating part.

This should have been him, he reminds himself. Everything would be easier if he had taken the hit. He presses his hands tighter to the wound when he spots Akira’s eyes fluttering.

“I said no sleeping.”

“You’re... bossy.”

Akira’s voice is breathless when he speaks. It’s weak, yet it still holds a hint of familiar sass that only slightly eases the concern gripping at Akechi’s heart.

“That’s nothing new,” Akechi replies, pulling his attention briefly to the others, who are calling out quick directions, guiding Morgana back to the entrance. They are making good time despite the ride being rough. They’re getting closer, and Akechi’s heart is hammering against his ribs painfully.

“We’re almost there,” he whispers to Akira, who can only hum weakly in response.

His hands are beginning to shake against the wound, feeling for the first time tonight that they are working against a rapidly ticking clock. He’s never considered Akira dying before...

He shakes his head to rid his thoughts, for just a moment, of his plan. His eyes drift toward the entrance, and soon enough, Ryuji and Makoto are pulling Akira from his arms, helping him out of the bus, and Akechi looks down at the blood splattered against his Crow outfit, bright red painted across white and gold. He feels sick. It’s too much. Akira will--

“Akechi?”

Ann’s at his side, a gentle hand on his shoulder. He pulls his gaze away from his bloody gloves, unsure of how long he’s been frozen in place.

“Akira. Is he--”

“--Makoto and Yusuke have already started patching him up.”

Akechi frowns at this, looking over Ann’s shoulder to see Makoto and Yusuke working together to wrap a large bandage around Akira’s abdomen while Akira munches on a Devil Fruit. He tilts his head in silent question, keeping his eyes locked to Akira’s bare, bloody torso.

“We keep a small bag of supplies at the entrance. For situations like this.”

He nods and slips out of the bus, surprised out how weak he feels. His legs are shaking, but then he meets Akira’s half-lidded gaze and Akira, fucking Akira, smiles at him, a warm, soft smile that squeezes Akechi’s heart.

“Are you okay, Akechi?”

He only nods to Ryuji as he wills his muscles to cooperate and move to Akira. “I��ll escort you home.”

The others look toward him, a few questions come his way, but Akira mutters “okay,” and everyone falls silent. Makoto and Yusuke finish bandaging Akira’s wound, and they leave Mementos, exhausted, beaten, but alive.

It’s late when Akira and Akechi walk into Cafe Leblanc. Sojiro’s already gone for the night, and, Akechi thinks, that’s probably for the better seeing as Akira cannot walk without support. He helps Akira up to his room, frowning when Akira drops to his bed with a groan.

“It’s still bothering you.” They’re both back in their school uniforms, but Akechi can’t get the images of red from his mind. He frowns and crosses his arms, unable to pull his eyes away from Akira’s stomach, where he knows the bandaged gash is underneath his uniform.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Of course you will be,” Akechi scoffs lightly, running a hand through his slightly tangled hair. He sighs at the uncomfortable silence between the two, resting heavy in the air, pending words neither knows how to speak.

“I’d do it again.”

Akira’s voice penetrates the silence like a gust of howling air that Akechi blinks wordlessly at. “Excuse me?”

“You said I was dumb. For what I did. But, I would do it again. I would do it a thousand times over if it means you stay safe.”

Each word sounds so unbearably genuine. Akechi thinks he may no longer be able to take this, to handle Akira. The plan...

“You’re thinking too loud,” Akira gripes out, kicking off his shoes and easing his legs fully onto the bed with a wince. “I said I’ll be fine, so there’s no need to worry.”

“I’m not worrying,” Akechi bites out. A lie, but, well, lying is what he does best unfortunately. “Rest,” he mutters. The air in the room feels suffocating. He needs to leave. He needs to breathe, to will his heart to slow back down to a steady pace. “No Mementos until you’re well.”

He turns to the door, but Akira mutters his name, his first name, “Goro,” in such a quiet, almost desperate tone, and the small word is enough to have Akechi freezing, hand hovering above the doorknob.

A shaky sigh slips past his lips, and he turns to look over his shoulder, doing his best to keep his expression calm and composed despite his stuttering heart.

“Yes?”

“Stay. It’s late anyway.”

Akechi turns back to the door and considers the request. It is late. It would take a while to get home, and he’s exhausted, both physically and mentally. He’s not sure just how much sleep he’ll actually get with Akira slow close by, but then again, he doesn’t trust Akira to actually rest like he needs to. Sighing once more, he nods and turns away from the door.

“Fine, but we both rest.” He drops his bag by the couch before sinking down onto it, his muscles giving into the exhaustion gripping at his very core.

“I wouldn’t suggest anything but,” Akira responds through a yawn, and Akechi watches as Akira’s eyes flutter closed, still in his uniform and still in his glasses. That wound, Akechi thinks, must be taking more out of him than he’s letting on. Typical of his leader...

He frowns at his attachment as he lies down. He needs to take a day, he thinks, to reevaluate his plan, to factor in these new, growing emotions, to assess how to deal with them. But for right now, for just this one night, he’ll forget about everything other than what’s in the now.

[fairycosmos]

I feel pathetic I wanted to go into 2019 self harm free but I broke on the very first day

hey. you’re not pathetic, seriously. the fact that you even want to be self harm free speaks volumes, i promise. that’s what you should try to focus on the most, it’s a victory in and of itself, even if it doesn’t seem like one. and i’m proud of you for it. relapsing is often a part of long term recovery, okay? it’s totally fine to be upset, disappointed, and frustrated of course - you can use those emotions to learn from this experience and to try to prevent it from happening again in the future. that sounds impossible, and it will continue to sound impossible until you actually do it. you’re so much more capable than you will ever fully realize. the part of your brain that calls you pathetic is the same part that convinced you it was a good idea to self harm in the first place - you cant trust it, it’s lying to you. look, the goal isn’t necessarily to never be sad or angry, it’s to attempt to cope with those feelings in a healthier way, right? just attempting is good enough. look at your situation, at how hurting yourself just made you feel worse, and actively remind yourself of it the next time you feel the urge. it’s all part of learning and growing and figuring shit out. it’s trial and error, but you will find balance if you seek it. you don’t have to know exactly what to do, you dont have to be sure of anything. take it one day at a time. the fact that it’s a new year may mean that you’re feeling pressured to be healthy and happy, but time is relative and you dont have to magically feel 100% better just because it’s 2019 now. it’s still going to be a process, there will be ups and downs, and that’s alright. all you can do is focus on what’s in front of you right now. that’s the only thing that’s in your control. you can’t change the past, you can’t stop the future, all you have to worry about it the current moment. and making sure that you’re safe. if you’re doing that, then you’re doing okay. it’s all a lot easier said than done. but even baby steps are an achievement - crying it out instead of hurting yourself, getting out of bed and brushing your teeth/washing your face, sharing your worries with others. all of that will add up, all of that will make a difference. not every effort will gel with you, and you’ll feel stupid at first, but it’ll count for so much. no matter how much it feels like you’re fighting a losing battle, in reality you’re in charge of the whole fight. that sounds dumb, but you get what i mean. 

are you able to talk to someone in your actual life about what’s going on in your head? a friend, a family member, a teacher/counselor if you’re of that age? it can be anyone. this definitely isn’t something you need to carry all by yourself. the need to self isolate will always be there, but it doesn’t have to control you completely. you don’t have to hurt yourself outwardly to show that you’re hurting inwardly. you can communicate, you can give the pain a name, you can examine your own toxic patterns and learn to diffuse them. you can incorporate positive coping mechanisms into your daily life. it’s not as far fetched as it sounds. in fact, it’s almost guaranteed if you want it to be. it may also help to talk to a professional if that’s an option for you. maybe your regular doctor, or a support group in your area, or even just a hotline to begin with. self harm is a lot more common than anyone wants to admit, and there are so many others that can relate to what you’re dealing with. you’re never as alone as your mind is leading you to believe, but only you can prove that to yourself by making the first move. i totally understand that it’s a very daunting concept. it’s fine to be scared, it’s to be expected. and i’m not saying you have to make any big decisions right now. i’m simply asking you to introduce the possibility of reaching out, or of making small changes, into your mindset. really think about what you need to do in order to be a friend to yourself. it doesn’t have to be a big deal if you dont want it to be. your mental health is honestly just as important as your physical health, and it should be treated with the same tenderness and care. you deserve to be listened to, and you deserve guidance if you feel like you need it. that’s the bottom line, so please think about looking into those options if you haven’t done so already? regardless, there are other steps you can take that will make things feel a little less heavy. such as removing potentially harmful objects from your environment, keeping a journal, being around others so your mind doesn’t drown you, being kind to yourself etc. you’re not trapped. you have choices. and you have all of the time in the world to work it all out. where you’re at right now isn’t where you’ll always be. every moment of anguish and upset is temporary. i’m going to leave a few links that may help a little, check them out if you’re interested. and please, please just try to take care. i’m rooting for you more than i can put into words. and i know that you’re going to be okay, because you’re doing what you can with what you’ve been given, and that’s all you can really ask of yourself. i’m sending a lot of love your way. i hope you find some peace of mind in the future, i’m sure you will. please let me know if you ever need to talk or rant or anything, just message me anytime. i’ll be here.

https://www.healthyplace.com/abuse/self-injury/alternatives-to-self-harm-self-injury

https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/the-truth-about-exercise-addiction/201708/15-things-do-instead-self-harming

http://www.selfinjury.bctr.cornell.edu/perch/resources/distraction-techniques-pm-2.pdf