#hate moving my body but it does help clearing out your mind for at least a few hours bc you are busy sweating
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Returning the Favor [DaisukexReader]
an: This is a continuation of Talkin' in your sleep. Takes place a week after that. Minimal plot (if any) this time, Daisuke might be a little ooc this time, feeling a bit feral today. Not beta read at all
Word count: 1077
mdni divider by cafekitsune
CW(S): oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, spit as lube(kind of), kind of a quickie?
You really don't know how you got yourself into this situation. It all started innocently enough, You had to take something to Daisuke in the utility room. You couldn't even remember what it was. Some where in between the delivery and Daisuke showing off the most recent thing Swansea was making him do with the circuit board led you to this moment.
Next thing you knew Daisuke was peppering kisses along your neck. Thankfully Swansea was on his lunchbreak so you didn't have to worry about him coming back for at least 30 minutes or so. It was just the two of you in the room alone.
“I don’t mind this but just like last time we gotta be quiet.” You remind him between giggles. “I don’t want anyone catching us.”
He hums and presses more kisses to your neck, “I dunno why you’re telling me when you’re the one who really has to focus on being quiet.”
You scoff “whats that supposed to mean?”
Daisuke sucks harshly at your neck and draws a gasp from you.
“I mean I’m returning the favor from last time. You took care of me so it’s my turn to pay up.”
The change in his demeanor has your stomach doing flips. This side of him is one you wanna see more often.
He clears off the desk, setting aside his project and taps the top motioning you to sit down.
Once you're seated on the desk he resumes his kisses, rubbing his hands down your sides. You slide your hands across his chest and tangle one in his hair giving it a slight tug. He sucks your neck in a few spots, pink splotches slowly blossoming in his wake.
He pulls away and caresses your face in his palms. "You don't mind if I like, go down on you right?"
"I'd be a little sad if you didn't." you grin.
He snorts and presses a couple chaste kisses to your lips before making work of the buttons on your jumpsuit. You help him shimmy it down enough to where it's pooling at your ankles.
He takes a moment to take in your semi-clothed frame with a grin, sliding his hands up your thighs. He pays extra attention to your inner thighs closer to your core. His fingers ghost the edge of your underwear. The cold metal of his rings sending pleasant chills up your spine.
You watch him expectantly, body practically vibrating with anticipation. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of them and pulls them down sinking to his knees as he does so. You hold your breath and spread your legs more to give him access.
With minimal hesitation he moves forward, warm breath fanning over your center. He licks a stripe up your pussy, testing the water to see your reaction.
You release the breath you were holding and let out a soft moan. That's his go ahead, he makes quick work and maneuvers his tongue skillfully
Daisuke's eyes meet yours, chocolate brown eyes gazing up at you lovingly. You bite your lip as he continues and snake a hand into his hair.
Your knowledge of Daisuke's sexual past was unknown, but with how well he was doing he must have had at least a girlfriend or two. That or he had a pretty interesting search history.
Quiet gasps and words of encouragement fall from your lips, which seems to spur him on further. His face is no doubt a mess with a mixture of your slick and his saliva.
After a particularly harsh suck on your clit you let out a moan louder than you meant to and tug on his hair. He pulls back and stands up. "I hate to stop there but I really really wanna be inside you right now." he admits.
In wordless agreement you began to pull up your shirt exposing your midriff. He fumbles with his belt buckle, hands shaking with excitement. Once there are no restrictions in the way he pulls down his boxers enough to let his erection free.
"Let me know if it's t'much." he whispers after planting a kiss on your forehead. His cock lines up and slowly pushes in. The mixture of his saliva and your slick serve as a makeshift lube, not ideal but it'll do.
He gives you time to adjust, inching in slowly. Once he's fully bottomed out he stills. His eyes close and his brows knit together, breath coming out in small huffs. As per usual he looks picture perfect.
You're in a similar state he is, your arms drape themselves across his shoulders. The stretch wasn't terrible but it was something you had to adjust to.
"Ok-ok You can move now." You say.
He nods and begins to thrust at a slow but steady pace.
Both of you are huffing quietly, gazing at each other as if you two were the only things to exist. He presses kisses to your lips and he begins to pick up the pace, the desk starting to creak quietly.
"Oh god you feel so good." he murmurs. You move one of your hands to your mouth, moaning quietly into the palm of your hand.
You try and meet his thrusts the best you can. Daisuke's hands plant themselves firmly on the desk as he speeds up. Creaks and moans from the both of you fill the room.
"I'm almost there." you whine.
Daisuke laughs which fades into a whine of his own. His thrusts get harsher causing you to grasp tightly onto his shirt.
With a few more harsh thrusts of his you squeal as you hit your climax, eyes tightening shut.
Daisuke soon follows, pulling out and finishing with his hand. He comes with a choked groan and a couple of spurts of cum land on your exposed stomach.
Both of you sit in silence, panting to catch your breath. He reaches behind you and grabs a few paper towels. "How do you feel?" he asks as he begins to clean the two of you up.
"Amazing!" you say cheerfully.
After you're all cleaned up you both get dressed, trying to make yourselves look as inconspicuous as possible. Swansea would be back any minute now.
"You should probably head back, I don't want either of us to get in trouble."
"Yeah-I'll see you later!"
You made your way out of the utility room with wobbly legs feeling content.
Bless that ray of sunshine.
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Hi there - I just wanted to pop in and see how you’re holding up. I hope the days have been landing gently for you. — June
💕 it’s been hard, though every day feels 2% lighter. his passing really hit me and, selfishly, it made me reflect on my own struggles and the loneliness that sometimes comes with them. nothing like what he went through, but it’s tough not having anyone close by to share this kind of sadness with. i’m trying to take this as a reminder to reach out more and work on building new connections.
i’m endlessly grateful to be part of this fandom, where kindhearted people like you reach out, and we’re all here together in this. i feel so lucky to have amazing friends and mutuals online that i can lean on. i hope you’re doing okay too, June. sending you lots of hugs!💕
#putting this in the tags bc its nothing life changing and i dont want to sound like im sharing tips#but im actively hunting for distractions that comfort me#i started reading again! last time i touched a book was in feb#i joined a book club in my city and cant wait to meet the girlies from there next month#signed up for a yoga class#signed up to steam and put some old school games on my wishlist that i might get at one point#made a list of cafes near me that i want to visit#and letting my friend take me to this workout class every week lmao we will see about that tho#hate moving my body but it does help clearing out your mind for at least a few hours bc you are busy sweating#answered#lovely people
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“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.
“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.
El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”
Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”
“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.
Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.
“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.
El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.
“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.
El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”
Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”
Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”
Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”
“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”
Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.
“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.
“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.
Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.
“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.
Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.
“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”
Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”
Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”
“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.
“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”
“—well it could have been—”
“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.
“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.
“Shut up Steve!”
Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”
Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”
“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.
All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.
“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.
“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.
Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”
Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”
“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.
El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.
Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”
Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”
#steddie#byler#this is just about Steve and el bonding#steve teaching El the best way to beat mean girls is to be one#eleven hopper#steve Harrington#stranger things#Eddie munson#mike wheeler#will byers#Steve Harrington and El hopper have a sibling relationship#found family#my writing#ficlet#mean girl steve harrington#fluff#fanfiction#jim hopper
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Sharing a bed
The best way to end a friendship?
Lorenzo Berkshire imagine
You invited yourself to sleep in Enzo’s bed, unaware of his feelings for you. The next morning everything becomes clear.
Warning: fluff and a bit of smut
A/N: I thought this was cute. Hope you like it my dear tumblr people. And per usual, feedback is appreciated!
I added part 2: read it here
The party is over and your friends head up to their dorm. When you see Pansy leave together with the guys for a little after party, you get slightly jealous. Why does she still get to hang out with them while I have to be on my own?
You grab Lorenzo’s hand and walk with him in the direction of his dorm. “I’m coming with.” You say with determination and your best friend raises an eyebrow. “Pansy gets to come.” You explain and he smiles. “Yeah, but Pansy sleeps with Blaise. Where would you sleep?”
Your slightly drunk mind thinks it over. “With you of course.” Enzo feels his whole body heat up at the idea of being in the same bed as you. “Uhm, I-uh I-don’t-“ Mattheo interrupts Enzo’s stammers. “Yeah, Enzo, why don’t you let her stay in your bed? Nothing wrong with being cuddled up with a pretty girl. She’s your best friend, you’ll behave right…” There’s an obvious grin on Mattheo’s face that worries you a bit, but you chose to ignore it. “So?” You urge as you take a step towards Enzo.
“Sure.” He says with a weak voice. Great, most beautiful girl at Hogwarts in my bed, but no touching. I’m gonna need to put a pillow between us.
***
Falling asleep was easy since the after party you guys had, was exhausting to say the least. The next morning you find yourself in Enzo’s bed, wearing one of his shirts and trying to clear up your hazy memory. A vague recollection of Pansy telling you that Enzo had a crazy crush on you fills your head. Followed by a memory of drunk Blaise whispering about how Enzo hated the idea of having to sleep with you and not getting to ‘sleep’ with you. Blaise’s unsubtle winking makes you smile as you remember last night's conversation.
“Enz, you up?” You ask when he moves a little. A soft murmur is the only answer you get since he’s still stuck in the world between awake and vast asleep.
You chuckle and roll closer to Enzo, who’s starting to panic. No, not too close. Too late, you’ve already snuggled up to your best friend, embracing his warmth. Maybe she won’t notice. “Oh, you’re definitely up, Enzo.” You softly wiggle your thighs against his morning wood. She noticed! Enzo’s face heats up and his eyes fling open to find yours are still shut as you’re innocently snuggled against him.
Lorenzo’s eyes scan the room and he’s relieved to see that all his roommates have already left for breakfast. “Just-um-ignore it.” Enzo finally manages to say before taking a deep breath to relax himself. You try to suppress the cheeky smile tugging on your lips. “It’s hard to ignore Enzo.” You tease as you rub yourself against his hard member and entangle your body with his, leaving no space between you two.
You open your eyes to see a very flustered Lorenzo, who quickly looks away. “Don’t play with me.” Enzo breathes out, you smile and nudge your nose against his cheek demanding that he looks at you. Hesitantly his puppy eyes meet yours and you brush lips over his in an effort to make him relax. Your hand moves over his chest while you whisper. “Am I really not allowed to play with-“ An unexpected moan leaves Lorenzo’s lips as you palm his hard one, feeling it twitch in his boxers. You can’t help but bite your lip as his soft eyes fill with hunger for you.
Your lips are met with a needy kiss as Enzo pushes himself against you, finally giving in to his desire for you, his best friend. “Play with me, I beg you, play with me like I’m a toy.” His husky and desperate voice does a number on your brain and body. You slip your hand in his boxers and grab his dick, while you kiss him with a similar hunger.
Word count: 660
Picture source: https://pin.it/6bYlKDSfs
#slytherin#slytherin boys#enzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire#papercorgiworldwritings
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cuts and kisses
ellie Williams x female reader
description - you get hurt on patrol and ellie is not happy.
Tw’s - swearing, brief mention of blood from a shoulder wound, ellies a teensy bit mean, fingering (r!receiving), eating out (r!receiving), smut, fluff, pet names (angel, baby), I think that’s it let me know if I missed any.
a\n - this is my first fic so it’s trash pls don’t hate me 🧎🏼♀️
“what the fuck was that?” ellie says harshly as she charges through the doors to your hospital room. You had been on patrol with Dina, an easy route nothing overly complicated. However there had been a group of bandits hiding in the dense forrest. They caught you by surprise to say the least. Dina managed to fight most of them off leaving you with two men. You shot down the first one and aimed your pistol at the second and pulled the trigger. Empty. You scrambled to try and find something, anything to defend yourself but it was too late. The man plunged a blade into your shoulder. The dark red sticky liquid oozed from your arm and trickled down your body. Dinas eyes widened as she ran over to you and that’s the last you remembered.
your eyes fall to the ground and your lips stay closed as ellie stares at you with furrowed brows and a frown. “Hm? You wanna tell me why the fuck you almost died out there?” she says growing angrier. Tears nip at your eyes as Ellie’s harsh words cut deep. “please stop yelling” you say weakly, a small tremble in your voice. “I’m not yelling. I fucking- you don’t know how lucky you are Dina brought you back in time you know that?” ellie says looking right at you with those disappointed green eyes of hers. “M’sorry” you say softly as the tears finally break and cascade down your pink cheeks. Ellie’s gaze softens and she moves closer to you. “Fuck- no I’m sorry. I just- I can’t lose you, I can’t.” She admits, wrapping her arms around you gently. You sob quietly into her arms, melting into her touch.
“I know. I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry” she coos at you, holding you so gently as though you’ll break. The rest of that night is spent with ellie holding you and her telling the cheesiest dad jokes in attempt to make you smile. It worked of course, it always does.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
The next day or two fly by with ellie taking care of you. The doctors give you the all clear and ellie insists on carrying you home even though you insisted you could walk. She plants you down on your shared bed and helps you undress. You catch her plump lips in a kiss that goes on a second longer than it should. The kiss grows needier and ellie pulls away drawing a groan and a pout from you. “why’d you stop Els” you whine, your eyes scanning Ellie’s body hungrily. “your still recovering angel. don’t wanna hurt you” she says her eyes flickering between yours lips and tits. “you won’t hurt me Els. please.” Ellie looks over your topless frame once more before mumbling something that sounds like fuck it before taking your lips in hungrily. She gently lays you down and kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking, proudly leaving cherry red marks that will be violet purple by the morning.
She slowly pulls down the loose pyjamas you were wearing, exposing your white cotton panties decorated with a wet patch of your arousal. “fuck” she mumbles as she leans down, eye level with your cunt and slips her long digits into the waistband of your panties and slides them off. She proudly shoves them in the back pocket of her denim jeans. “anything hurts or you change your mind you tell me to stop, yeah?” she says softly looking into your eyes with the most caring expression you’ve ever seen. You hide feverishly and she wastes no time diving her tongue into your cunt like a starved women. The pink muscle drawing circles over your clit while her finger plunged inside you, curling upwards. Your mouth hangs open as soft gentle moans escape your lips. Your brain is empty, the only words leaving your mouth are ellie, ellie, ellie.
She basks in your pleasure, smiling as her tongue greedily laps at your clit. Your knuckles turn white as you grip the sheets, dangerously close to your release. “M’gonna cum-“ you mewl, doe eyes fluttering as you approach your climax. “Cum for me angel”. Ellie’s words are all you needed, as your orgasm washes over you, cumming all over Ellie’s fingers and mouth. “Atta girl” she coos as he lips detach from your cunt and her fingers pull out, leaving you empty. She pops her fingers in her mouth, savering your taste before kissing you gently. “did so well for me baby” she kisses your forehead before leaving quickly to grab a wet cloth. You hiss at the friction as she cleans you up, pulling fresh panties on for you and pulling you close to her chest. She misses you softly once more before you both fall asleep in each others arms.
“I love you” she mumbles half asleep.
“I love you too” you reply, nuzzling impossibly closer to her.
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"i've missed you" (heeseung x reader)
genre: light angst, fluff word count: 1.3k requested by @probably-too-obssessed ♡
warnings: mentions of a break up, exes to lovers, crying
a/n: was the plan in my head perfect: yes. do i like the execution:... okay, ik this ain't technically a drabble but bear with me!! but anyways, we're officialy more than half done with the 1k event yayy!!
masterlist
Wiping the sleep out of your eyes, you make your way past the living room to answer the door. Knowing that only the closest people to you know the code to your apartment block's stairway, you can't help but worry as you approach the knocking on your door at such early hour. Has something happened? Did someone get hu-?
Suddenly more awake than a second before, you gape at ex-boyfriend in shock. Wide eyes scan his face, his brows slightly furrowed as he chews on his bottom lip, fingers twitching by his thighs. And you can't help but notice that he looks... the same. Yes, a little more mature now compared to the few years ago, features more defined than before but that's still most definitely Heeseung. Your Heeseung.
"What are you doing here?" You ask quietly, feet rooted into the floor as cold winter air sweeps from the stairway and engulfs your thinly-clothed body. You try to pretend that this sudden coolness is the cause of the shiver that runs down your spine but at the same time you know well that it's all because of Heeseung's relentless eyes placed on you.
"Hi," he breathes out and feels his heart coming up to his throat. Fuck, you're even prettier than he remembered. He clears his throat. "Can I come in?"
Somehow you muster the courage to nod your head and move back to open the door wider for him. As he sets his foot in your apartment, an instant wave of nostalgia and longing fills his heart to the brim and for the first time in three years Heeseung doesn't feel this void that's been constantly eating him from the inside. And it's all after spending only a minute with you again.
"I've missed you," he blurts out without wasting any more time, watching as your shoulders visibly tense. He takes a step closer and then one more, moving to stand right in front of you. "I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."
Pressing your lips together, you hide the trembling of your fingers by clenching them on the fabric of the shirt you've been sleeping in. His shirt which only now you seem to realize to be wearing and so does Heeseung as his eyes soften. And it makes him hope that maybe you too, after all this time, still keep a place in your heart for him.
Your heart pounds in your chest.
"You–," you stutter out, head full of running thoughts. Why is he here now? What's caused him to go against his manager and contract and show up at your door at 5 am? "Heeseung, where is this all coming from?"
"Ever since the night I broke up with you, there hasn't been a day without you on my mind." You can clearly see the distress and pain marring his soft features. "I'm sorry I fucked up, I never should've ended things with you back then."
And yes, you've missed him too. Yes, you've thought about him way too much for someone who's supposed to be over the relationship for at least two years now. But it's Heeseung after all. How does one simply move on from him?
But you keep a brave face and decide to be the more reasonable one out the two of you for once in your entire life. "There's nothing to apologize for, don't be ridiculous"
He scoffs, running his hand through his thick hair from frustration. "I was selfish. I dropped you for fame–"
"You left me for your dreams, Heeseung," you interrupt him with a scolding look. "And you did the right thing. I'd never want to be the one holding you back. Stop being so self-critical."
His eyes soften and he breathes out, all the tension leaving his body. "You could never hold me back, YN. I hate that only now I realized that you were the only thing that's kept me grounded. I'm no one without you."
Your heart stutters when his hands reach out and envelop your slightly trembling ones. "I don't know, Hee. There's just... There's so much happening right now, I can't think straight."
"I still love you." His words knock all the air out of your lungs and you swear you're falling. "After all this time, there's never been anyone else but you, love. I'd drop everything in an instant if you asked me to give my all to you right now. Everything loses its value when you're not there with me, I've learnt it the hard way."
"I–"
Your quiet stumbling gets cut off by his hands suddenly loosing their grip on yours. You watch as realization tinted with fear slowly creeps up on his beautiful face. All of sudden, Heeseung feels all of his muscles tensing as his heart drops down his chest, heavy and aching.
Already dreading your answer, he asks. "Do you... Do you have someone?"
"N-No!" You stutter out quickly, hands suddenly gaining a mind of their own as they desperately clutch on his again, heart wrenching as you already miss his touch even though he hasn't even fully pulled away. "I couldn't. Not after you."
"Then give us another try," he breathes out, chest feeling almost fifty pounds lighter at your quiet confession. His fingers quickly intertwine with yours as he pulls you closer with one tug. Your heart stalls when he leans down and starts kissing away the tears that you haven't even noticed started dropping down your cheeks. "All I want is you, YN. And there will never be anyone but you for me."
His lips trail down your cheeks, peppering kisses all over your jawline and chin and before you can even blink, your mouths are moving together in despair. The kiss is soaked and dripping with longing and love as you both pour all of the emotions from deep within into it. Even when your lips start to slightly burn from the saltiness of your tears and Heeseung's harsh sucks, you never even think of pulling away just for a second. It's only your muffled sob that makes the two of you part.
"I missed you so much," you cry out, trembling hand coming up to cover the bottom of your wet face. It doesn't take long for him to gently pull it away and bring it closer to him, pressing his warm lips to your knuckles. You sniffle, only to feel more tears following down your cheeks. "I've watched your every single performance, you know?" You chuckle shortly trough the sobs. The smile you sent him is wobbly and teary but so full of love it makes Heeseung feel the happiest he's been for the past couple years. "I'm so proud of you."
Your words impact him harder than he would ever admit, so before you can get the glimpse of his own eyes becoming glistening, he pulls you by your face and kisses you again, swallowing each one of your sobs and whimpers. Your hands tightly cling onto his hoodie as you find yourself becoming putty underneath his touch again. His slim fingers brush away the hair that got stuck onto your teary face, his caresses so gentle you can't help but feel your legs buckling slightly, so taking two steps backwards, you pull him on the couch along with you.
"I love you too," you whisper somewhere in between your ceasing cries and his kisses.
At that, Heeseung pulls himself up on his elbows to take in your pretty face. The face that he couldn't erase from his mind for all these years. The face that kept him awake every night until he passed out from exhaustion. The face that he loves more than anything else in this world.
And damn him if he ever found anything else that brought him as close to heaven as the sight of your swollen lips parted with a smile, blush spread over your cheeks as your eyes fill up with sparkles, looking at him as if he's collected all the stars from the sky and gave them to you. And fuck, if you really ever asked him to give you the entire moon itself, he knows that he would somehow find a way to make it happen. Because he would do absolutely anything and everything to make you happy. Even if it meant giving up his entire career – he will not make the same mistake twice and lose you again, now knowing that nothing is worth of the pain that being without you has put him through.
permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi
#carly's 1k event ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა#1k event: requests ✎#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen heeseung#heeseung imagines#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung drabbles#enhypen drabbles
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Hi! Am I late to my favorite thing?! I love JT shenanigans 👏🏼📝 But first: the theater au is a really cool idea! I can totally picture the situation, haha. Of course Bea knows all the lines. And wow, the boat prompt 🔥 Okay here comes my prompt: fitness center + «oops my bad»
not late at all! and so glad you like the college theater au - more to come on that soon i hope 🤞
now to your prompt: my mind immediately went to i see you clearly now (i hold you dearly now) particularly this bit:
Beatrice [...] working out at the gym (Beatrice had gently suggested that Ava stay at home after causing a scene that Ava still blames Beatrice for - anyone with eyes would have had the same reaction to you doing hip thrusts, Bea -
(actually, @ant-heia i'm pretty sure you made a comment about this line lol)
so what if we noodle what this scene could've looked like? as in: Ava, still unseen, following along when Beatrice goes to the gym...
[under the cut because it got a little rambly lol]
Ava's not gonna lie: not having a body sucks.
it sucks because she can feel the sun but not really, she can move things but only so much, she can speak but not at times that she can control or predict - all they've figured out so far is that it isn't something they can fix.
and yeah, she misses how it feels like to stretch out on the bed after a good night's rest, misses how it feels like to sleep at all. she misses basking in the sun, misses even the way sweat collects in all those weird places on a hot day.
she misses too: having boobs.
but at least there's Bea's boobs. now, to be clear: Ava does her best to give Beatrice privacy in the apartment, makes sure to be go into the living room or the kitchen when Beatrice is changing or using the bathroom. and she makes sure then whenever she's looking, to only look with the utmost of respect - which is what she's absolutely doing now, tucked into a corner away from the flow of gym folks, the spandex and various levels of undress going unnoticed as she focuses solely on Beatrice's form - the flush on her cheeks, the steadiness of her form, the subtle bounce of her chest with every step she takes as she finishes her warmup on the treadmill.
Ava makes sure to be at Beatrice's side when she steps down from the machine, sees her smile as she registers her presence. and really, that's the only thing that makes this all bearable - Beatrice and her gentleness, her cleverness; the sense of togetherness they've built despite and in spite of Ava's state of being. because to bear witness to Beatrice's life, to live with her even now - it's a gift, even as she is.
and if Ava can be completely honest: witnessing Beatrice at the gym is the best gift she could have ever received.
if she still had her body, she'd have melted by now, watching -respectfully! - as Beatrice works the different muscles of her body, focused and deliberate, grace and power in every move. (and if Ava brushes her hand along the curve of Beatrice's bicep, her shoulder, the outside of her thigh - that's between her and the quiet smirk Beatrice gives her in return.)
she's memorized Beatrice's routine by now so when Beatrice diverts to a bench with a barbell in her hands, she frowns. "you're gonna do another round of chest presses?" Ava asks, confused especially with the lack of a weight rack. while she can help spot Beatrice if she needs assistance, they won't be able to explain a barbell seemingly floating in midair.
"no," Beatrice murmurs and Ava steps back, tucks herself again out of the way as she watches Beatrice carefully sets herself up, sitting on the floor perpendicular to the bench, barbell at her hips, feet braced. Ava has no idea what to expect when Beatrice takes that deep breath she always does before she begins a set and lifts -
Ava swears she passes out.
when she comes to, the first thing she sees is the near panic on Beatrice's face, an expression Ava hates and instantly surges forward to abate with a touch at Beatrice's wrist. "i'm here," Ava says, and feels Beatrice instantly relax.
"are you alright?" she asks, her brow lined with worry. if Ava still had a face, she'd frown (she misses that too, making faces, feeling her feelings on her face) because of course she's alright, she's invisible, nothing can hurt her while she's like this.
then she notices Beatrice's gaze shift to the side - and finally sees the cause for her concern: the long line of dumbbell stands where Ava had been hovering, now overturned like dominoes.
"oops," is all Ava can manage as Beatrice makes a sound that sounds like a sigh and a laugh wrapped in one, "my bad."
#thanks as always anon <3#really fun to revisit this fic and explore things from ava's pov!#avatrice#writing shenanigans with jt
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Clear Your Mind, H. Jisung.
synopsis: you're in a slump, and your boyfriend is there to help ease your mind even if you think takeout and movies aren't the perfect solution to a complete dead-end of ideas.
pairing: boyfriend!han jisung & reader
warning(s): none
You don’t know how it starts, but you do know how it ends.
“This is so cliche.” You hit the backspace button without a second thought, clearing the digital sheet of paper just to see a blank page all over again. A blank canvas to an artist, a field of imagination where your creativity holds no limits, to some. To you, all you see is your reflection when your laptop shuts down and mocks you of how irritable you find the situation to be.
You had one assignment.
All that you were required to do was to come up with an original story. An independent piece of your own with your own idea to present it, whether it be in the form of media, theater – your teacher was lenient when it came to the creativity of her students. You chose to stick to writing. It was easy, it was simple (no it isn’t). But the only reason you thought it was, was because writing always came natural to you.
It was like singing a song you memorized the words to or finding your favorite ice cream flavor and consistently sticking to it. Writing was a getaway for you. A gift, and a privilege that you cherished.
Which is why when you can’t seem to move past six words, you grow frustrated. You had to find something – inspiration to spark an idea of some sort. Maybe even staring at the gardeners outside your flat would do something.
Before you can move from your desk to the window by your bed, there’s a knock to a beat only one person could think of, and without you realizing it, your tense muscles relax at the thought of him alone.
“Hi,” you breathe out. Jisung doesn’t get to say anything when you slump your body onto him, relaxing your body weight for him to carry, which he does effortlessly. Your breathing slows to a normal pace and when Jisung remembers your text from earlier, he sets his things down carefully to hold you tighter.
‘Hey you,” he almost whispers into your ear when you hide your face in his neck. While Jisung is a naturally sensitive person, he doesn’t flinch when he feels your hair on the nape of his neck. He finds comfort in the way you can come to him for anything, good or bad, he likes being your person.
“I hate today.” You mutter into his shirt when you pull away, earning a laugh out of your boyfriend, “I’m serious. I couldn’t get more than twelve words out of my head and when I managed to write something, I scrapped it.”
“Why’d you do that?” Jisung frowns, thinking that even if a draft wouldn’t be up to expectation, it would be a way to get ideas too.
“Stop, I know what you’re thinking,” The both of you work in a clear rhythm, letting him set the food that he ordered down on the table first so the both of you can dig into it together. “I should’ve at least saved one draft regardless, right?”
When you look up from your unpacked takeaway, you see Jisung giving you a soft smile, a knowing look, then a nod.
“I didn’t think any of my drafts were good enough. At least on the level I want it to be.” You confide solemnly to Jisung. Though the both of you studied different fields, to a certain level, the advantage of Jisung being under the music department was that there were parallels to certain parts of your degree with his.
The one parallel you both have in common right now is that you needed inspiration, and Jisung knew how to deal with that. How to deal with slumps and drainage of energy when all you need to be doing is writing, producing or working until the product you’ve worked so hard for is up to par. But Jisung has also learnt to not set such high expectations on himself when he’s working himself down to the bone on most days. Most days you have to be the one to pull him out, and that wasn’t healthy, he was aware but it’s improved these days.
This time it’s his turn to pamper you and he’ll gladly take the chance to boost your mood whilst simultaneously trying to give you more inspiration for your paper.
“C’mon, we’re watching a movie.” Jisung drags you to your living room, carefully guiding you to sit on your sofa before comically skipping to your shelf of DVDs you have. “Now, what’s your choice of movie tonight, m’lady?” Jisung fakes a British accent, one that creates a giggle from you.
“Ji,” You laugh as you cover your mouth. “What’re you doing?”
“What do you mean?” He refers to the shelves of discs behind him, knowing how you have them arranged by the color and the width of their covers. “I’m helping my girl get her groove back by helping her relax.” He smiles.
When all you do is shake your head with a growing smile on your face, Jisung can’t help mirror it.
“Whenever I’m burnt out I think about things outside of my work or whatever it is I need to do, and I think that might help you as well, babe.” He slips out two random discs from behind him before walking up to you to present the two choices he’s picked.
He takes a quick glance at the two titles, “Alright, looks like we might either be watching Hercules or The Terminator — which I did not know you had a disc of, by the way.” He laughs as he waits for you to say something.
“You’re unbelievably charming, you know that?” You can’t help but laugh one more time as you point to the Disney film in his left hand. “Hercules, please.”
“So I’ve been told,” He winks. “Hercules it is for the lovely lady.”
Once Jisung’s settled in next to you on the couch with his legs propped up on the letterman you have sitting across the sofa and your legs curled up so your knees are resting on his thigh, you can't help but steal a glance at your loving boyfriend. The man who stole your heart, who was currently doing his best to do whatever he could to lift the worry off your shoulders and to help you get back to your work with a clearer head and a fresh set of ideas.
When Jisung hits the play button after adjusting the volume, he pokes your cheek then turns to look at you.
“I can feel you staring baby, what’s up?” He curiously asks as his eyes scan your face.
You nearly melt at the use of petname, knowing that no matter how often you hear it, it'll always make you feel all tingly and loved by the man you call yours.
You shrug playfully and lean in closer to him.
“Just love when you're with me.” You confess, almost feeling the way Jisung smiles widely without having to look up at him.
The opening to the film is starting to play, and you're gradually feeling yourself slip into the world of the animation and remembering just how much you adore this film when you feel Jisung kiss the top of your head, an action that's common from him.
“I love being with you, ___." He whispers and soon, the both of you are eating the takeaway and enjoying your evening impromptu dinner-slash-movie date together.
author's note.
oh writing how i've missed you SO!
thank you thank you thank you to those that have been liking, reblogging and patiently waiting for something new to be released. this imagine is fairly short and i did have ideas to make it longer but i might make a part 2 and have it just be a mini series of things jisung does to help you boost inspiration, but! overall i hope if you've read this far that you enjoyed this imagine and that it was up to expectation <3
my writing might be a little rusty as it's been a while, i apologise if there are any grammar mistakes, i'll fix those asap!!
signing off with all my love, saturn ☆
#stray kids imagine#han jisung imagines#han jisung fluff#han jisung au#skz fluff#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#han jisung scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids soft imagines#han jisung soft imagines#stray kids fluff
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Channeling Your Love; Chapter 1
Mind you, this is video game Joel, everything that happens in this story means the pandemic started in 2013 so all the songs are "canon" until after September of 2013, IM SORRY PEDRO PASCAL FANS!!!
Description; You're a music radio show host for Jackson with a hidden past in the apocalypse. What more can I say?
Warnings: Future smut, for now its just meet cute fluff; PTSD for future chapters: it gets real dark guys, this is my first time writing Fanfic so bare with me....
“Alriiight Jackson, it's time to rise and shine! How about we start our day with some positive energy and a good old classic, Conga by Gloria Estefan!” The music playing loudly through the living room, Joel was immediately irritated. “Christ” he mumbled
“Ellie! Turn the radio off!”
“Why?” she yelled back
“I hate this song, it's too damn loud.” He replied
“Then leave! I'm having fun!”
“Ellie, plea-”
“Nope! Get grumpy somewhere else, old man.”
Joel sits for a minute, shaking his head “I have had enough of this” he decides, picking up his jacket making his way to the door.
“Where are you going? I was just joking when I said to leave and the song is almost over y’know!” Ellie yells out shaking her body along with the music
“I’m going to that damn radio station, gonna tell them how I feel about their early morning music choices and hopefully change their mind”
Ellie scoffed “good luck ruining everyone's fun dinosaur.” continuing to dance along to the music
Joel scoffed back at her and exited their shared home
After a five minute long uphill walk, Joel spots the radio station Tommy had told him about, stomping upwards to have a word with the radio show host. He knocked loudly on the front door before entering, trying to appear polite at least to have the upper hand, but after a minute of no answer he decided to let himself in, walking up a narrow staircase, following the sound of music, not caring what song was playing even if it was something he liked
“You can ring my beeellllllll” Was heard reverberating through the walls walking up, finally entering the studio apartment that connected to the radio station room with a glass wall to suppress noise from the outside world. The first thing he sees is you, shaking your hips and ass along to the song, eyes closed never noticing him there. Looking at you he recognized seeing you around town, thinking you were surprisingly fit for someone who doesn't go on patrols, realizing why you were as he watched you. He couldn't help but focus his attention on your ass, the way your hips moved along with the rhythm.
“Shit” he mumbled to himself, lost in thought looking at you as you swayed by yourself, like no one was watching.
You open your eyes for a moment noticing the man standing in your studio apartment, immediately freezing in your tracks. “How long has he been standing there?” you thought to yourself, chest heaving, making unbroken eye contact with your stranger. Oh god, he's handsome too you thought, cheeks reddening.
Joel sees you see him, witnessing you completely stop what you were doing, and gulps.
“Keep going.” He says, feeling rude for interrupting you, but mostly embarrassed, thinking you’d caught him in the act of leering
“W-what?” You respond, having trouble hearing through the glass panel separating the two of you and loud music, gesturing to the glass and record player so he could understand.
Joel understood, and got all the more embarrassed, huffing towards the ground to gain some courage
“Keep dancing.” He says louder now, and does an awkward little shimmy before pointing to you to make his message more clear. His cheeks start growing red from further embarrassment. “The hell did I do that for?” he questioned himself quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.
You understand him, but the song was almost over at this point, and it's your cue to go back to the live recorder and continue onto the next song. You jolt over to the mic as the final note fades out “Well, ha, that was Ring My Bell from the one hit wonder, Anita Ward everybody! I hope you guys had fun with that one!” You say into the mic, hiding exasperation in your voice. “Up next is-” You look down at your handwritten list of songs scheduled for the day “Last Night by The Strokes!” you announce with fake excitement. You didn't hate the song, but you had just heard it too many times before. Still, it was important for the future to hear as much music as possible as you thought.
Joel is still watching you at this point, impressed by how quick you can turn your heel. You exit the room, into your own studio apartment, facing the man before you, straightening your back and raising your head to meet his hazel green eyes. “Can I help you with something sir?”
“Uh yeah, I um…” Joel felt completely lost, he came here to complain, take out his anger on you, maybe even teach you a thing or two about ‘the real world’, but all those thoughts he had racing up the hill to confront you had muddled after actually seeing you. He didn't know what to say.
“Ash?” you both hear from downstairs, you sighed in relief, recognizing the voice “What's up Eugene?” you yelled down, starting to feel wary of this strange quiet man in your presence.
“Was just checking if you were okay, I saw the door was open so,”
“That's my fault, sorry” Joel yelled down in admission, recognizing Eugene's voice as well, Tommy had introduced the two and grew to respect the old man on patrols with him.
Hearing footsteps up the stairs Eugene enters the room, “Oh hey Joel, didn't know you were a fan of Ash’s station”
“Um, no I'm not, I mean…” Joel pauses, trying to find the right words, “So your name is Ash?” he dodges the question retorting back to you
“No” you respond bluntly “Only Eugene calls me that.”
Eugene looks between the two of you, feeling the uncomfortable energy in the air.
“What do I call you then?” Joel asks, slight frustration he can't control in his voice, trying to stay civil.
“Call me whatever you want, host, radio person, I don't really care” You responded honestly, sensing his frustration, feeling like pushing his buttons. “Why are you here, Joel?”
“Well” he starts “If I’m being honest, I find your music to be obnoxious.”
“It's not ‘my music’, Joel, it's just music, and if you don't like it you can just turn off the radio or cover your ears if your missus appreciates it more than you do.” You have a smug grin on your face, knowing you have the upper hand “Besides” You start “No one else in Jackson has complained to my face about what I decide to play, the first exception being you.” You cross your arms.
Before Joel can say anything, Eugene interrupts “Alright you two, how about I let you just sort this out amongst yourselves. Ash, if you need anything, just gimme a holler. Joel.” he looks at Joel giving him a respectful nod, getting out of there before he can get involved “Thanks Eugene, sorry to worry you.” You wave him goodbye as he books it downstairs out the front door waving back. You're left alone standing with your new ‘acquaintance’ feeling ready for whatever he might throw at you. Joel sighs. “Alright look, first of all I don’t gotta ‘missus’ like you call it, just a very annoying 14 year old who does whatever the hell she wants if it can’t be helped. So you can imagine the strain of dealing with that alone every morning, and then I have to hear the damn Conga song at 9 in the morning trying to enjoy my coffee in peace because it's the only point in the day I can get some time to myself. So forgive me if my much wanted peace and quiet interrupts whatever you have going on here.” You stare at Joel, appreciating his honesty
“What's her name?” you ask. He looks at you in surprise for a second, breaking his avoidance towards you.
“Ellie, uh, her name’s Ellie” He responds
“Pretty” you say, fully taking her name in to get an image of her in your mind. “Why don’t you send her up here sometime so I can take her off your hands in the morning? I’ve been meaning to find a young apprentice who's passionate about helping me with the work I do around here. If she’s got a lot of energy I think this would be perfect for her.”
Joel’s still holding eye contact as you see his eyes widening, taking in the idea. “You don-You don't have to do that really. I love the kid to death but- she can be a real handful honestly.” Joel’s embarrassed at this point, surprised at your compassion to help.
“She sounds like a great kid” you confess, “I can promise you with the work I do she’ll be tuckered out by the time she comes home to you. Plus, with my schedule she’ll be too busy to bother you in the mornings, so you can start enjoying your coffee in peace.”
Joel thinks on it, starting to consider the pros and cons of the idea. “I’ll have to ask her if she’d even want to first.” he replies, it would be nice if she had something productive to keep herself busy he thinks to himself.
“That’s alright, if she wants to she can just stop by whenever she likes. Today even, I’d be happy to start showing her the ropes, whenever she’s ready.” You smile at him, realizing you might’ve just solved the problem between you two, wanting to start things off civilly with this gruff but shy handsome man you were meeting for the first time. “Okay” He agrees, scratching his beard after making his decision. “Great!” You respond “Tell her she can stop by anytime after 9 am and before 9 pm. I’m excited to meet her!”
Joel chuckles, “You don't even know if she’s gonna say yes to this whole thing. Don't get too excited.” he explains.
“Well, based on your description of her, and the fact that she’s 14, I’m guessing she’s feeling pretty bored without much to do around Jackson. Besides helping the community, I'm sure she’d be excited at the idea of a creative outlet.” You say in confidence, smile almost giddy remembering how you felt around the same age. “You got a point there.” he responds, smiling back, blushing at the thought of how cute you look when you're excited.“I’m uh, I’m glad we could talk this out. I’ll go and see her right now.” he starts making his way down the stairs to the doorway.
“Hey Joel!” You speak out, stopping him in his tracks to look up at you, “Don’t be a stranger, stop by sometime to tell me what music I should play for your morning coffee. Or any music, really.” Joel starts to blush again, surprised by you reaching out to him for company.
“I’ll think about it.” he says, knowing he will come back again just to see you dance again when he works up the courage. He waves you goodbye. “Nice meeting you!” You reply “Yeah, You too.” looking up at your pretty little face one more time before leaving. Making his way straight to Ellie to tell her the news.
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Imagine drinking moonshine with Forrest and (unintentionally) becoming tipsy.
TH Masterlist
- It’s no surprise Forrest knows how to hold his liquor. However, when he gets drunk, he gets absolutely ossified.
- But tonight he drinks even less than he usually does.
- Because he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself.
- He’d seen you leave the office earlier. He just came up the stairs as you left through the front door. You held it open for him, but he didn’t walk on as he usually does when it’s someone else.
- “Where you goin’?”
- “Home. I…,” you breath tapered and you swallowed hard to conceal your hurt as best as possible, “I didn’t make it. We terminated my contract and I’ve handed over my stuff.”
- His eyes flitted across your face, frantically looking for a lie that wasn’t there.
- You mustered your kindest smile. “Goodbye, Forrest.”
- You made to move past him, but he grabbed your arm like he did the night he dropped you off at the central station for the first time.
- You gave him a quizzical look.
- “Can we… during my break… coffee? You. Me.” His breath hitched and he grabbed you a little tighter. “Have a drink? After work?”
- He bit his lip and looked at you through his lashes, blue eyes luminous but shut away behind a thick wall of timidity. “At my place?”
- Knowing him enough to be certain he harbours no ill intentions towards you, you agreed.
- So here you are, seated on a worn leather couch in his apartment. The interior mixes modern luxury with rustic cabin vibes. Various wood tones are worked into decorations and bigger furniture pieces like the coffee table in front of the hearth, one of Forrest’s old weekend projects.
- The scent of cedar mixed with black tea, raspberries, and sandalwood hangs in the air while you two sit in front of the fire. In your hands, you hold the latest invention of the Bondurant brothers; pumpkin spice moonshine.
- If it isn’t the strong alcohol percentage that makes you choke, it’s the very strong presence of cinnamon. All the same, it makes for an easy drink.
- Being a lightweight, one glass is already enough to make you feel lightheaded. But one glass follows another and after the third you’re heavily leaning on the burly bear of a man next to you.
- In the meanwhile, there’s little conversation. In part because you share the language of silence, comfortable with one another without the need for words. But it’s also due to Forrest not knowing what else to talk about and not wanting to pry into what happened earlier that morning.
- Nonetheless, although he won’t admit it outright or even to himself, he’s glad you’re no longer colleagues for a very shallow reason.
- You’re no longer off-limits.
- He hates himself for using your state to push his own agenda a little bit, but he weaves his fingers through yours. You blink in surprise, but hum and snuggle up into him further while looking at your hands.
- “Can’t let you go home in this state.”
- “But I can’t stay here. I don’t wanna…” you frown, at a loss for words. It seems your brain has lost the battle war with the booze in your veins, rendering you unable to form a single coherent sentence. Doesn’t help his body is really warm and his mere presence offers the type of comfort you’ve been needing all day. “You know.”
- And he does, because he doesn’t need words to form a crystal clear explanation. “You won’t be. You sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep here.”
- “Grumpy wolf.” You chuckle at yourself. “Curled up by the fire.”
- The thought that passes through his mind at that moment?
- I’d rather be curled up next to you.
- “C’mon, time for bed.”
- “I’m not sleepy,” you protest, clutching his arm. “Stay here. At least for a little while longer.”
- He groans and then lets out a deep sigh through his nose as a smile slowly spreads on his lips. “You’re starting to talk nonsense. I’ll see if I have a toothbrush lying around too.”
- Gently he frees himself from your grip to prep his bedroom and find you your own toothbrush as well as pyjamas. He catches himself standing in front of his closet, smiling at the shirt and cardigan in his hands.
- Dreaming of how you’d look in them.
- Like you’re his.
- Woken up next to him.
- Back in the living room, he sees you’ve fallen asleep. You’ve toppled over and are basically sprawled over the couch.
- He grumbles about how you just had to fall asleep in the worst possible posture. Forrest picks you up and immediately stops his grumpy rambling when you curl up into his chest, humming contently.
- But it’s not only that which makes his heart stop.
- It’s also the prospect of having to dress you in the pyjamas he’s prepared for you. Now, of course he could put you to bed dressed as you are, but he wants you to be as comfortable as possible. And wearing jeans to bed is anything but that.
- He’s glad you’re sound asleep because you won’t be able to see how red he is while carefully manoeuvring you out of your clothes and into his shirt and cardigan. All the while, he makes sure not to touch you inappropriately, being wary about where his fingers touch you.
- He remains seated on the edge of the bed for a moment after he’s tucked you in. On the one hand, he’s overjoyed you’re with him, in his bed, safe and sound. On the other, he feels guilty since it’s because you lost your job you’re here.
- He runs a hand through your hair before he gets ready for a night on the couch.
- Come morn, you wake up to a glass of water with painkillers next to it as well as a wee note stating: “In case you need it”.
- You smile, take a painkiller, drink the water, and look down at your pyjamas. Had it been anyone else, you would have dreaded the thought at likely having been touched inappropriately. However, when it comes to Forrest, you don’t need that type of reassurance. Instinctively you know he respected you even in your unconscious state.
- In the kitchen, Forrest is busy making pancakes. The table has already been set. A pot of steaming coffee, yogurt with fresh fruits, a big mason jar filled with orange juice, and a reed basket with croissants and pains aux chocolates line the middle of the table.
- “Sleep well?” Forrest asks, briefly looking away from the pan. He’s clad in loose grey sweatpants, a matching cardigan, and a dark blue shirt portraying a dog snout. On his nose balances a pair of thick black glasses.
- “I did.” You stretch and bite your lip, only now aware of the trouble you caused last night. “Thanks for letting me stay. You didn’t have to.”
- “‘Course I did. It would’ve been irresponsible to let you go home when you’re not steady on your feet.” He gestures at the table with his spatula. “Sit. Eat.”
- “You had to sleep on the couch, though,” you mumble as you settle on the chair facing the kitchen. It’s not a bad view to wake up to, messy brown locks and broad shoulders working hard to put proper grub on the table.
- He puts a plate stacked with fluffy pancakes between the mason jar with orange juice and pot of coffee. “Dig in.”
- “Forrest?”
- “Hm?” He looks at you over the rim of his coffee cup. Normally he reads the paper during breakfast, but he gladly makes an exception for his secret favourite person.
- His secret girl.
- “Next time, sleep next to me. I was cold.”
- He almost spits out his coffee and quickly grabs the newspaper to hide his beet red face behind. Under his breath, though still crystal clear, he mumbles: “Next time.”
- And all the times to come.
Let’s end with the wee treasure I found;
Imagine doing this with him after some rounds of very steamy (and very passionate) sex🥰🤤
I went off with this one, but I have so many feels and Forrest is simply still one of my faves to write😅🥰
Tag list: @buttercup32sstuff @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @liliac-dreamer @vir-tual @alikaheroes @ilovemanypeople @zablife
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speaking of huey… final(?) elmer commission, this time by the incredible @brbarou who does my favorite interpretation of these characters && who i asked to capture a scene from the end of our first aforementioned one-shot.
i don’t think i ever explained in great detail what went down in that game, but this confrontation went a little something like this…
huey: (after elmer has completely disrupted his plans to alter the tide of the war by refusing to give a dangerously powerful weapon to king jovis, which likely would’ve destroyed him && a bunch of innocent people in the process… something huey only involved himself in for the powerful position it gave him… && after elmer’s meddling inadvertently resulted in the death of the king) well, elmer? is this what you wanted? are you happy?
elmer: you know very well that i’ve never been happy. but at least more people won’t be hurt this way.
huey: …fuck you, albatross.
at which point, huey blasted ray of frost at the room ; elmer tanked it despite getting hit right in the face. when huey made a move to take the weapon himself, elmer stopped him, && when huey realized that elmer really bad turned against him, && he misty stepped out of the there && ran off.
a couple of days later, elmer sent him an apology letter:
Huey, I wish I had gotten to say a proper goodbye, although something tells me you haven’t gone far. I guess the length of time before I receive your response will make that clear… So don’t take too long, alright? And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ignore this letter either, because you know that my arithmetic and calculation skills are not as keen as yours. If nothing else, it would make me happy to know that you’re well. As for myself, I’m just fine. Hopefully that can make you smile too. It occurred to me that you might still be angry, and I understand why you might feel that way. I wish you weren’t, though. You’re still my best friend, and I tell everyone I know as much. I would hate to be lying to them. If you want me to apologize, however, I’m sure you know that I cannot. Believe me, I would have preferred to make you smile too, but the world is much larger than you, or Usben, or Kesh, or the empire as a whole. Esperanza once told me that making everyone in the world happy was impossible. Perhaps it’s the world that needs to change first, in order for that to happen. Still, I’d like to make it up to you. Your smile might be able to make me happy as well. You like experiments. This is one I would like to try. Esperanza and I are in Usben now, parlaying with Kesh. If you’re still in the city, you should be able to find me with no trouble. I’m sure Speran would love to see you as well. Otherwise, I will await your written response. Your friend, Elmer C. Albatross :) P.S. — If you can tell me in more detail why you wished to possess such a powerful weapon, I might be able to understand your reasoning. I know you better than to believe it was for Jovis’ sake, or the empire’s. I’d still like to help, if I can.
&& huey's response...
Elmer, I thought myself well beyond the reach of old friends, but as always, you seem to have found me out. I did consider ignoring your letter, perhaps burning it and swallowing the ashes, perhaps casting it unopened into the Abyss…but you are hard to ignore. I do hope this letter finds you—the attached instructions say to leave it in a tree hollow or body of water with a silver piece, which seems a strange system for delivering mail, but no matter. If your courier found me, I am sure they can retrieve a letter from a pond. I suppose I am pleased to know that you are well. I will not apologize for my actions in the throne room, but rest assured—I am not angry with you, Elmer. I understand that in your own misguided way, you did what you thought was right. You say the world is larger than us. I say it is too small. Too small for a mind like mine (or a heart like yours); too small for those of us who would climb to the Expanse and shift the turnings of the stars. (Too small to let us keep the things we love.) But I have realized that you are also right. I have been scrambling for power wherever I can grasp it, with no focus on my ultimate aim. I shall be more diligent in the future. Thank you, my friend. You have honed my ambitions to a far sharper edge. You must understand why I cannot return to Usben while you are there. After what I have done, I cannot risk a careless word from an old friend exposing me. And frankly, I doubt Esperanza would be very pleased to see me. I shall lay low for now, but rest assured my friend, we will see each other again. In the meantime, if you could send me news of the Amris girl, that would be most helpful, and would make me very happy. As ever, Chiusadov Huey L.
all in all... things have been pretty crazy.
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A new form of punishment?
Hii this bl is quite popular among many communities. In case you finished watching the series or at least the novel... Read my tk fic! I swear this is a good one. A cute one!
Warning for spoilers, sex, bondage, swearing, and kissing...
It happened again. Pete wondered if Kun-Kinn (boss or mister in thai) was purposely punishing Porsche out of spite since the guy barely tried addressing him as 'sir' or another respectful.
Arm and Pol already looked anxious for their buddy Porsche, and Pete felt the same. He had been with Kinn for a while and everyone was worried as usual.
"He's here at last..."
Pete spoke with concern, seeing the person approach, meanwhile Porsche wincing as he took each step rather painfully. It burdened their hearts to see their fellow bodyguard is weakned.
Yet in Porsche's mind, the pleasure of pain was taking over... the memory of Kinn's sexy magn -ahem! Nobody needs to know that Porsche had his secret with the mafia boss. Punishment-more like reward and yet his butt might spilt open from the pain, and that makes it an effective punishment.
"Ai-Porsche!" (A honorific for friends)
Porsche was startled, and immediately, his mind escaped from the alluring look of Kinn he imagined briefly, straightening himself he feigned pain (like he's not feeling enough -Kinn certainly numbed his lower body)
"Are you OK?"
Porsche cleared his throat, "Not bad... Kinn was a bit aggressive today," partially it was true. Kinn was merciless.
Pete patted his back now and Porsche had to show a fake cry of pain so show he was being whipped "Ah... Pete it still hurts..."
Pete's innocent face was shocked with concern, and he shakily said, "My friend, allow me to heal your wounds.. "
Shaking his head quickly before the cats out of the bag, Prosche moved away "No need... um well it will heal so... I'm gonna crash early today."
It was chapter closed. Nobody argued or asked anything, Porsche had been interested in what new methods will Kinn 'punish' him next time.
A few days went and Porsche fell into another problem with Ken this time. The half foreign man just downright yelled and spat at him for being so disrespectful about the mafia. But all Porsche did was talk to Vegas in a friendly way. Kinn knew this and said he will double the punishment on Porsche.
Porsche smiled through pursed lips to conceal his internal happiness with Kinn's sexual punishments. Will he be violent to suck him and devour him, or will he tease him arousingly. Porsche was more than just enthusiastic. He was excited.
Now here he was with Kinn greeting him out from his room, pulling him to a hungry kiss and hooking his tongue with his. Porsche was prepared for this, yet he was surprised when Kinn did not put on the condom on both of them as he cuffed Porsche to the bed.
"Something you forgot?"
Kinn smirked, he beautiful smile suddenly tempting Porsche to kiss those lips. He leaned forward and playfully tapped his nose "I'm doing something fun with you but I feel you will hate it,"
"Oiii!" Porsche whined now dropping his momentum against the fluffy sheets of the bed, "but I want you to eat me!"
Kinn shook his head, now tracing Porsche's naked ribs, making the latter flinch. This touch was not the usual touch. This was a bit too light and unbearable than his usual tracing.
"K-Kinn this Is too... um l-light..."
Kinn hummed playfully and then continued to circle around his sides, making Porsche arch with a grunt "Oi!"
"What's wrong? Does it tickle?"
The words itself explained Kinn's plan with Porsche. He lowered his head with a whine now. "Don't do this to me, Kinn... I hate - Ah!"
He flinched when Kinn poked his ribs this time firm and tickly. Prosche gritted his teeth together, forcing the unpleasant sounds escaping from his throat.
Kinn raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you perhaps distressed, dear Porsche?"
"N-no! It -fuck j-just stop it!"
"Stop what?"
"Noho!" Porsche couldn't help giggle now when Kinn's hands were deliberately on his waist, his left side was weaker as his uncle had told in the past. Even Jom took advantage of that spot when they were sparring.
Kinn was picking it up fast and effectively and then pinched both sides of his waist individually. Upon the pinch on his right side, he jolted to the left, and then he tweaked the left, making Porsche shriek with another giggle.
"Oho did you just giggle?"
"Yohou hears wrohong!" But giggles spilt instantly to prove him false instead. Porsche was biting his lips now, too afraid to speak in case he let's out satisfying expressions for Kinn.
"Cute... honestly, better not let anyone know. Otherwise, you'll wish I was tickling you,"
"Better than yohohou!"
Kinn paused, now looking up to see Porsche's wrists bound above the headboard. He gently reached to crawl down at his inner wrists teasingly sliding down the arms, which made Porsche panic instantly "A-ah wait wait wahahait!"
"I'm not going anywhere... just riiiight down..." he dragged his words as his fingers tickled down his elbows, now slowing his pace tortoruosly at his biceps. Porsche regretted his doings... this punishment was something new and unexpected bit quite effective.
"PLEHEHEASE! KUHUHUHN!"
Porsche's begging surprised Kinn that he stopped but didn't pull back his fingers. He frowned now. "Did you, Porsche pitchaya, beg me and address me as sir?"
Kinn watched Porsche's ears glow red, now looking back embarrassedhe was speechless. Kinn dug into his armpits and Porsche quickly shrieked into cackles of bright bubbly laughter. It also surprised Kinn that he had a cute laugh worth listening too and it was infectious.
"NOHOHO NONONONO I AHAHAM SOHOHORRY KIHIHINN! IHIHI WOHOHOHONT BUHUHUG THE OTHEHEHERS!!!! SOHOHO STOHOHOP PLEAAAAASEEEE"
Loud, Kinn winced but then stopped as he smiled fondly, his hands resting on his hips, not tickling, but it still made Porsche giggle.
"How adorable... but I am serious..." he said now, "if anyone knew this, our family is doomed... they'll tickle the information out of you,"
Porsche flushed hard now, still panting. "Huh?? Noho way I'm thst weak! It's not... possible!"
Kinn kissed him briefly on the forehead. "Shall we tesr that love?"
Prosche, too engrossed with the kiss, hummed in agreement, but then after recalling back yo his request, he sqauked "fuck! No no no I didn't-Aaaaiii nooooo!"
He fell into another tremola of giggles when Kinn attacked his hips. Kinn could go easy on him next time... in case there will be a next?
Sigh, aren't they cute! How can u not tickle Porsche! He's a bratty adorable man!
Inspiration by actor Apo!
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"I don't feel so good."
I think I’m getting bad again, maybe worse this time. And I’m not sure anyone can help me even if they wanted to.
I have lived and I have learned, I have lost and I have loved.
My mind has gone blank for I have been feeling everything and nothing at the same time. My heart is heavy with self-doubt and discouragement. My shoulders sag with undetermined decisions and heavy burdens. My feet are heavy with balls of steel chained around my ankles.
I don’t feel so good.
The nightmares have become too daunting that I seek comfort in the night skies by the side of the road. The only way to silence my mind would be a dangerous run outside the safety of home at midnight while the rain pelts my skin and stings my cuts.
I feel horrible for the people around me, because I have been told that being friends with somebody who is drained drains you. Am I draining you guys too? If so, shall I move away? Or will you help to extend your hand that you know I’ll struggle for eternity trying to reach?
My appetite has gone from my body and my skin has dropped a shade on my face, the bags under my eyes are sandbags that continue to descend, my throat is closed up most of the time and my body is not here.
I feel disgusted with myself when I stare at the food I could barely finish, because all I wanted to do was push it off the table and watch the plate shatter on the floor so I could cut my crevices bigger to allow my hands in so I could fix myself.
There’s ringing in my ear, my heart is clashing against my ribcage, my eyes are drooping with fatigue, my skin is cold, my movements are sluggish. Every breath I try to suck in is choked, like there happens to be a ball of self-sabotage lodged into my throat.
I remember unlocking the door so slowly as I tried to keep myself upright and the moment I stepped into the quiet and dark house, I shut the door and my bag fell from my shoulder. My head was spinning, my breaths shallow and the water was up to my throat.
One step forward to try to at least get to the bean bag, and before I knew it, my head had fallen before my body as it crumbled to the marble floor with a thud–yet there was silence.
Nobody had heard anything and nobody had come down.
I couldn’t utter a single sound.
I couldn’t reach for my phone.
I wasn’t sure how long I stayed on the floor like that, but the bump on the back of my head was enough to tell me that I probably hit my head hard enough to be knocked out for a bit. The strain in my ribs was a clear indication that my terrifying past would probably come back, and moments of standing in the corner to eavesdrop on what the doctor was saying to my dad came back to me.
How do I ask for help?
I felt like my voice was taken from me, my freedom strangled and my privacy breached. At twenty-one, I feel as dead as I never have. I feel like a walking zombie instead of a fucking human.
I hated blacking out, unsure if by the time I come to, which would hurt first between my head, side or entirety? How do I eat when all I want is to throw it all back up? How does one believe they’re allowed to ask for help when all they’ve been told is that they’re a burden?
Beban. That’s what I am.
A burden to others.
I don’t feel so good.
I feel sick, my stomach churning, heart failing and soul disappearing. I wanted to be allowed room to make my own decisions and mistakes, and still be cared for as one should be.
I feel clingy, starved of physical touch and affection that I crave so much from a woman who would always put man before her children when her children should always come first.
I feel disgusted, not with anyone but myself for the way I’ve treated myself and the things my mind haunts me with, screaming at me that I should do it sooner rather than later because who the fuck would miss me?
I feel empty–gone are the pieces of myself that I worshipped and took pride in, replaced with self-loathe and mockery. My mouth has been sewn shut and my heart is banging on my chest to be expressed, to be let out and it begged for help.
But my mind knew better. It was a constant battle with my heart about who gets to make the decision. Do we let the heart win and beg for help, or do we let the mind stay in control and keep our mouth shut so we don’t burden others?
I’m not so sure anymore.
But all I know is; I don’t feel so good.
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Green & Unpleasant Land.
This story was made with the help of the "Green and Unpleasant Land" solo RPG.
He was always a clever fellow. How disappointing it was to see him fall so low. He sought to lose me in the offal and squalor of the slums, but the prints of his boots in the floor were too evenly-weighted, too clean. The long decay of years had not yet rotted parts of his sole out of his boots. Any true denizen of this place would walk around with half a foot hanging out of the remnants of their shoe, with decaying bandages or wraps on the other. Even in the ever-changing mire of the slums, his prints were obvious. A mistake only a novice would make.
I knew he liked the drink. Not alcohol, mind you, if only it had been as simple as that. No, he drank blood. Blood of his foes, to be exact. He used to say it strengthened him. That it made his head clearer. That it let him think like them. A shame, then, to see him slowly turn into one of them before his body ever showed any sign of it. In the end, he became just like them. They say we all are, in order to hunt the things we do. In his case, he proved them right.
There’s still something of him in there. I know because he tried to bait me by leaving one of his victims for me to stumble upon. I’m not sure if he’s forgotten he taught me everything he knows, or he’s hoping that I’m a greater fool than I am. You always try to get a bigger fish – or creature – with a smaller one. I still remember the look he gave me when I’d almost managed to sneak up on him. I think that's when he realised there are more tricks in the world than just his alone.
He was beside me in a blink. He’d always been a diabolical swordsman, but there was a fresh speed to him, fresh strength. It was a flash of steel and only by instinct did I manage to intervene my own dagger before my sword cleared the scabbard. I had hoped to make it quick, but he used to say that luck does not favor monsters. If books were written about people like us, this battle would have been a grand scene with swordplay, drama, life and death at stake. The last part, at least, was true. I managed to get by by the skin of my teeth, matching blow for blow and cut for cut. Despite his descent and the favor that came with it, he did not outmatch me. He might have learned new tricks, but so had I through hunting alone. A realization he seemed to share, as what remained of him in there chose survival over revenge and fled to lick his wounds. In truth, it would not have taken much longer. Likely we both would have ended up dead. But I would have had him. And he never could stomach being beaten.
I remember the first time I’d written him with questions. Where had he been? Where was he now? What were these unexplained journeys he kept having to make? He’d always hated being questioned, but this did not speak of his usual gall or ire. This held something new. Amidst the sweet words of assurance and the explanations of his absence, there was naked fear. He had always been comfortable with me, comfortable enough to share his affection for his practices. Now, it seemed, he had repented his ways. He’d come clean to the Arbell, recused, reformed, reborn. He was many things. Pious had never been one of them.
Eventually I managed to track him to this place. A simple process of elimination. One which – in a great stroke of irony – he had taught me. Perhaps I have given him more credit than he’s worth, for he degenerated to a state of animalistic instinct. He would have known to kill and keep moving, so they can never find you. Keep your patterns random. He’d committed the cardinal sin. He’d become predictable. The denizens of the surrounding area had begun to take notice. Reports had been made. In the end, they’d sent me. I knew his patterns by now. I’d specifically asked to be sent, so I could be the one to send him off. He deserved that, at least. For his lessons.
He'd taught me to trust nothing but myself. Advice, I realise, which has become increasingly archaic. There is no world worth living in if we cannot trust our fellows. Why else do we do what we do? Simply because we must do this work does not mean we must eschew all contact. Though he had been right about Sinar. He had said she merely wanted me for the prestige. The ability to say she had managed to seduce one such as myself. That her affection was as spurious as mine was a waste on her. I was young and foolish. He was right. I didn’t want to believe him, nor did I want to believe when I saw Sinar entertain three of the guards during their nightly rounds. I could have killed them all. I wanted to. Sinar for her betrayal of my feelings. The guards for simply being associated. It was him that pulled me from the brink with his hand on my shoulder and the comfort of true companionship. I knew I loved him then. Not like I had loved Sinar. But I did. I still do. It’s why I’m here.
The door opens with a creak and I am pulled from my recollections. As he stands in the doorway, the moonlight outlines his figure. I can see his face and the blood that covers it. I see him then. The man he was. I see the fear in his eyes as he spots me in his chair and realizes he is outdone. As he begins to speak I shoot him. The din of my rifle echoing in the vast stretches of land surrounding this hovel. The blood and gore of the impact splattered across the doorway and the door behind him. He is no longer the man. He is the hateful creature that has been hunting innocents for years. He growls at me as he tries to push his organs back into his torso and the sting of regret fades to nothing. I pull the lever of my weapon and the shell ejects, landing with a hollow clatter at my feet and rolling towards his head. I do not ask for forgiveness as I set the barrel against his head and do the last kindness I can for the man who raised me.
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I love her and she is doing nothing wrong. In fact, she’s doing EVERYTHING right. She knows how to handle my triggers (this is so huge), and she speaks life into me when my fears are holding on for theirs.
I wish I could play the conversation we had tonight. She spoke to me in ways I have only dreamed of being spoken to. She validated my feelings (important first step!!!) and then walked me through the fears.
But I think this is sending me straight into the arms of my eating disorder, and it is not her fault.
One of my biggest triggers is my own body. It was a miracle in itself that we had the sex we had this weekend. I’ve NEVER had sex that good. I’ve never been able to let go of my disgust of my body long enough to enjoy sex. I didn’t think it was possible. She isn’t hung up on her body seemingly at all, but she said she has never met someone and gone to bed with them so quickly. Me either, at least in this context. Anyway, I had an amazing time.
I triggered myself today bc I wanted to send a nsfw selfie to her since she had sent me one this morning. I tried several times but my body just made me want to throw up. Which sent me into a mental spiral — “this is what she sees, and I can’t deal with this.”
Her voice was so calm, so full of genuine care, when she said things like, “Yes, it is what I see, but your opinions about what we’re seeing are not my opinions. I will tell you this every day if you need to hear it, but I love every inch of your body and can’t wait to keep exploring it.”
She means it too. The girl kept trying to kiss every part of my body, including my belly, but I kept redirecting her because it activates my gag reflex.
At some point, she was like, “Your body could be bigger or smaller or whatever, and you will always be so sexy to me because of who you are. You are the kind, caring, communicative woman I fall harder for every day, and the body you inhabit deserves to feel good no matter what form it takes.” Obviously I’m paraphrasing, but it’s not far off.
I ended up in fetal position, naked, crying on my bed. This conversation was purely uplifting, but I still can’t accept what she’s saying.
And because of that, I can’t bring myself to eat.
On top of all of that, she is very practical and essentially said I need to get my shit together. She doesn’t mind helping now but wants me to finish the degree, take steps to move to LA, fix the credit, etc. She made it very clear it isn’t about results but about trying. She called me tf out and said she knows I’m doing enough to scrape by but she knows it isn’t the life I want, and she is ready for US to have the life WE want, together, traveling the world and just being comfortable. She (of course) wants a balanced relationship (as do I) financially and wants to live together before getting married.
I was stuck on “Demise” by Hannah Hill for several days, but now I’ve switched over to “Renegade” by Big Red Machine & Taylor. It just feels fitting.
Very “Is it insensitive for me to say “get your shit together so I can love you””-esque of my life now.
Maybe this is the crossroads. A spiritual, physical, emotional love pure enough to break some of my chains… but I have to get my shit together to fully experience it.
The eating thing though, I really don’t know how to address it. I never want to make her feel like she’s causing me harm, but her body and eating habits are massively triggering tf out of me. I can’t say that to her. Her existence shouldn’t trigger me, and if it does, I’m fucked.
She still only eats once a day and very little.
I seem to have adapted the habit. I’m very hungry now but terrified to eat because I hate my body, especially in relation to hers.
If I ruin this relationship with my fears, I will scream from the rooftops.
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@silvergryphonart
Yes! It is VERY helpful for me, now that I am getting better at recognizing when I am the kind of agitated that requires me to use meditation to calm down.
For this technique, you will need a few things:
Something to see. (Or maybe touch, if you're visually impaired.) An interesting object, something complicated to look at. I use a clear-ish citrine orb i got as a gazing ball-- it has perpendicular inclusions that look a bit like a golden pine forest if you use your imagination.
Something to hear. (I can't think of an equivalent for if you're hard of hearing, I'm sorry. Maybe a rhythmic vibration of some kind?) A song you can tune out, or calm words to listen to, or a good noise. For songs, I use this one because it matches really well with the rate at which I need to breathe to calm down. Words pull too much of my focus for this to really work for me, but you could use ASMR sounds or a guided meditation track or really anything as long as it doesn't call too much of your focus!
Something to remember (or envision). A comfortable place to think about. I use my favorite camping spot, because it is a place where I'm always relaxed (or at least where I've never had an anxiety attack, lol). You could use the beach, or a friend's house, or an imaginary setting, anywhere as long as you associate it with good things. This doesn't have to be a "happy place," just a place you'd go if you could.
If it's REALLY bad that day, a physical sensation also helps. This is why I went to the bath-- I like water. You could use an ice cube to roll around in your mouth, or a hot mug of tea to hold, or a pet to pat, or moving your bare feet back and forth on carpeting. Or even just sitting in the sun or in front of a fan or something.
Get into a comfortable position for you and focus your vision on your interesting object. Notice its edges and curves, how the light reflects or refracts or is absorbed into it. Notice its colors and shadows, the way it changes or doesn't change when you turn it over and around. What does it reflect? Is it heavy? Rough, smooth? (Basically we are playing "what does that cloud look like" if you could also touch the cloud.)
Focus your hearing on the sound you've chosen, and focus your perception of your internal body on your lungs as much as possible, and on breathing.
While still playing "what does that cloud look like," count to a number while inhaling. Then exhale for a number. I use four for both because it fits well with my song. I've heard some people come down at the end of their sessions by exhaling for six and then for eight-- I tend to forget to do this.
As you are doing all of this, think of your comfortable place. What makes it comfortable for you? Why would you return, if you could? What was the air like? Were there sounds? Smells? What colors do you remember most?
If you need to, focus your perception of your external body on whatever physical sensation you've chosen. For me today it was where the surface of the water moved on my skin, for me next time it might be where I am the most warm under the sun.
Perceive. Breathe. Remember. These are your main focal splits: they will ideally help get your head into a grounded memory of safety, and your self into a body that isn't being chased by slow tigers of anxiety. Do all of these at once if you can, but don't force it! It's ok if you're like "ah, shit, I stopped thinking about my comfortable place so i could count and breathe." Go back to your comfy place as you remember to do so. Count as you remember to do so. There's no wrong way to be in a brain that needs to be doing many things at once! It's all fine. If you realize "hey this part isn't doing it for me, i hate counting, I'll just do Deep Breaths and that'll be fine for me," do that! You will probably eventually find your mind wandering-- this is fine as long as where it's wandering isn't hurting you. If it is, you may have too many splits or too few. Or you may just need to practice. Or this may not be for you! That's ok too!
I always scorned meditation because I thought it was all just "sit still with your eyes closed and clear your mind." I have can't-clear-my-mind disorder! That doesn't work for me!!! So when my then-brand-new therapist said, on Zoom, "let's close out our session with meditation," i was like "Oorrrr we could NOT do that, because I can't clear my mind." And she was like, "Well, we don't have to. It's up to you! But we aren't going to clear your mind, we're going to fill it and split it. You wanna try? Cool, go get something interesting to hold and look at." And she walked me through my comfy place while I pondered my orb and breathed, and that was where we started.
Today was bad. I needed a couple extra splits today. But the important ones are: thing to look at and think about, comfy place to think about, breathing to think about. Without a guide, I use counting and music to stay on track, but......point is, if you're neurospicy, holy shit do NOT try to clear your mind when you're bugging out. Instead, fill your mind with things you control, and fill your body with things you control, and split your focus as many ways as YOU need to. I'm not an expert, but this has legit helped a TON every time I have needed to do it. Next time your brain is full of weasels, try grabbing the nearest thing and pondering it as hard as you can! while breathing!
Good luck!
screaming! medication withdrawal symptoms are starting/have started and i'm! not doing great!
SO we have reached what i suspect would ordinarily be the mild suicidal ideation part of the concerta withdrawal.
fun!
thankfully i am on antidepressants this time, which do seem to be doing THEIR job so far, so mostly my brain is just on fire and i aaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, screaming! screaming! screaming! very not good! slept like shit two nights ago because digestion reasons, slept 5 hours full of anxiety dreams about my probably-dying fish last night, it's 8 in the fucking morning and i wanna sleep but my brain WILL NOT slow down and i am going to THROW MYSELF INTO THE SUN
this too shall pass, this too shall pass, but goddamn, i put in a refill request on June 17th and have been rationing ever since and NOW i find out, NOW i find out from my pharmacy, that they never even RECEIVED the refill request, but it wouldn't make a difference anyway now because they do not have concerta in stock, so! yay! fucking whee!
energy drinks my FUCKING beloveds, at this point i think actual cocaine might be easier to come by, i'm going to try zzzquil tonight and see if that does literally fucking anything lmao
IN THE MEANTIME
i am gonna treat this as an anxiety attack and go have a bath and ponder my meditation orb (big BIG thank you to my therapist for teaching me a meditation technique for brains that require multiple focal splits, fucking godsend, lemme tell you) and then i am gonna make a list of everything stressing me out. and then i am going to DROWN MYSELF IN CAFFEINE, ahaha, lolsob, why is my fish so sick i am going to miss her.
#adhd life#ok to rb#meditation#suicidal ideation#long post#it occurs to me that i may be describing mindfulness on steroids lol#when i am standing in front of the sink staring at the dishes and crying it is Orb Time lmao
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