#only to then get distracted 15mins later by the real world

[taradactyls]

"Why is it taking me so many more hours than it used to, to write a single chapter?" I say, while I keep going back to add more to a 13,000 word chapter when the goal for my early chapters was about 4,000 words.

[kisskissbanggang]

What You Don’t Know pt. 2

[15Min Read/4.3K Words - College Au - Jisung x Female Reader - NSFW/Smut, 2/3 Plot - Femdom, Dom/Sub, Finding Kinks, Hair Pulling, Handcuffs, Drinking Buddies, Bad Communication Skills, Past Relationships, Friends to Lovers(?)]

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Lectures with Professor Brown were never boring once you started fooling around with Jisung. It used to be that your mind would wander, getting distracted while the old man droned on, but now this was the highlight of your day — and it was all because of his TA. You drummed your pen against your notebook, catching Jisung’s eye as he handed back papers. He gave you the smallest hint of a knowing smile when he handed you yours. You immediately flipped through it to review and you caught your prize: a little note stuck to the back of the front page that simply said see me.

Maybe what you did with Jisung after class could be considered his “office hours.” Everyone knew full well that Professor Brown liked to go for an afternoon walk after class to the soccer field and have a late lunch when the weather was nice, but you were privy to the exclusive information that it also meant Jisung was all alone in his little workspace just outside the professor’s office. And now you were both all alone, with Jisung’s face obediently buried between your thighs under his own desk while he worked to make you cum. You’d been experimenting with restraints lately, and at this moment Jisung’s hands were currently cuffed to his chair you’d helped yourself to, the restraints digging into his skin and leaving the cutest marks. 

You wove your fingers into Jisung’s hair and tugged, trying hard to keep you both quiet in the narrow hallway connecting the lecture hall to all the offices of the professors who shared it. Jisung whined, his cuffs clattering against the metal arms of the chair as you clicked up the intensity on the little vibrating egg you’d strapped to his erection. He knew there was one rule today during your little game: don’t cum before you do. Sometimes the rules were different. Sometimes he couldn’t cum until you said so, or within a time limit, or there was the time you made him wait three days and he actually cried — but today the rule was to just hold out until you finished. And if he did he would get a treat. 

Lucky for him, Jisung was dangerously close to his goal, even if he was still desperately rutting his hips against nothing, trying to get reprieve of any kind from the stimulation on his dick. Still, his quick tongue never faltered, and you bit hard into your knuckle as you finally came, your thighs squeezing on Jisung as your climax coursed through you. You heaved out a content sigh as you came down, but you were mindful to be sympathetic to his beleaguered whimpers. Jisung was thankful as you unfastened his cuffs and got up so you could manhandle him back into his chair at his desk. You watched him wait, patient and good as you cuffed only one wrist again. He was cute with his pants around his ankles, his feet drawn together pigeon-toed before you pried his knees apart so you could kneel between them. 

“Do you want to cum?” You simpered as you finally regained your breath, and Jisung incoherently babbled as you grabbed the base of his cock. “Words, sweet boy,” you reminded him as you firmly massaged his length. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jisung gasped, nodding desperately as you took your time unstrapping the vibrator from his cock, “I really want to cum. Can I please cum?”

“You think I should let you?” You teased. Jisung’s free hand was dutifully clutched around the arm of the chair simply because you hadn’t directed him otherwise. You flicked your tongue over the head of his rigid cock in your massaging grip, making him tense and curl his knees up a little before you pinched his leg, silently reminding him to sit still. 

“Please, ma’am, please let me,” Jisung begged, “I’ve been good, please let me, ma’am, I’m so close.”

“You are?” You playfully questioned him, making Jisung whimper and whine even more. He was at the point where he was trembling now, which was quickly becoming your favorite thing about teasing him. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” Jisung pleaded. His knee still bounced erratically no matter how much he tried to keep still. 

“Fine,” you shrugged with a grin, “cum.”

“Oh, fuck—” Jisung choked out with a shiver as he suddenly did what he was told and came, right as you wrapped your lips around his cock. You hungrily swallowed down the hot load on your tongue, mostly to relish in how Jisung cried out as you would not let off his exhausted cock until he begged. 

Still, you took your time helping Jisung come back down to earth when you’d had your fun. You gently unlocked the handcuffs still connecting him to the chair and massaged his wrist a little, even cracking the joint between Jisung’s thumb and his wrist that tended to lock up when he was tense. Jisung watched, dazed eyes heavily lidded as you softly kissed his palms and returned them to his lap. You stood now to stretch your knees back out after you pulled your jeans back on, stroking your sweet boy’s hair back from his forehead. He reflexively leaned forward, resting against your hip as he caught his breath. His hand absently ran up the back of your leg and you gently pushed him off as he reached the top of your thigh. While you loved those fleeting touches in the moment, you were starting to cross the threshold back into the real world. 

“That was really good,” Jisung panted with a tired laugh, “but what now? Do you want to go get coffee or something?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin as you brushed your fingers back through Jisung’s hair and down to tip up his chin. He looked up at you, eyes shining as you dotingly used your sleeve to swipe at some of your juices still on his lip. 

That’s what was so nice about Jisung. He always bounced back, even if he needed a minute first, or even if he needed twenty minutes in your arms watching animal videos. He was always mindful of you. He was attentive in the best ways. Most of all, though, he kept everything easy. It was easy to lay in Jisung’s bed like you found yourself later that afternoon, legs tangled together as you browsed on your phone and he played his guitar. It was easy to order coffee because you both liked iced americanos. It was easy to go shopping or study together because he knew when to make suggestions and when to take them. Most of all, though, it was easy to do this because Jisung didn’t put any pressure on you to put any label on this other than friendship, and the boys didn’t know your little secret. At least, you were sure they didn’t. Felix did clear the room whenever you came over, but you were thinking it had more to do with how their shared bedroom in the old house was small enough that anyone else in there would make it stuffy and unbearable fairly quick. Minho was regularly waggling his eyebrows at you, but he also managed to keep his nose in his own business on principle, and that just contributed to how easy this was. The rest of the boys really didn’t give any signs of knowing whatsoever, and that kept the status quo to your liking. You didn’t hold hands, you didn’t kiss outside of sex, and you didn’t stay the night. There wasn’t any confusion. This was easy. 

You had somehow ended up reclining with your head on Jisung’s thigh when your phone buzzed, notifying you that your food had been delivered downstairs. The plan had originally been to go get some takeout, but the prospect of just hanging out inside was so much more enticing. You nudged Jisung’s knee as he lazily strummed his guitar, a hobby of his that you couldn’t let yourself get too invested in. Getting interested in Jisung’s playing meant it wouldn’t be long before you wondered if he ever thought of you while he played. 

“Go get the food,” you playfully whined. Jisung pinched your earlobe until you swatted him off. 

“You jerk,” he accused, “was that an order?”

“Go get the food, please.”

“Not in a million years,” Jisung shook his head, “I’m still distraught over telling the barista ‘You, too,’ when she told me to enjoy my coffee.”

“Fine, your majesty,” you dramatically conceded as you slid off the bed and jogged down the stairs. The doorknob rattled right as you reached for it, startling you. You sighed out a laugh as Chan opened the door, your food in hand. 

“Met the delivery guy,” he grinned, “I hope you tipped him.”

“You’re back early,” you observed thoughtfully. Normally Chan wouldn’t be expected for another few hours. 

“Oh, should I leave and come back at my usual time?” Chris quipped and made to step back out the door. “I can just take this with me.”

“No no!” You exclaimed with a giggle as you wrestled the bag of food out of his hands. Chan dropped his work bag on the couch and followed you into the kitchen as you grabbed some utensils. He hung out at the doorway of the kitchen, taking a drink from his hefty metal water bottle while he watched you grab a couple beers out of the fridge. You rifled through the drawers for a bottle opener, grumbling as all you kept coming up with was an inordinate amount of bottle caps. Chan walked up, careful not to sneak up behind you and wordlessly stretching out a hand and offering to open the drinks for you. He capped his water bottle, took one beer from you, and wedged the cap under the lip of the metal vessel to snap off the bottle cap. You were impressed as he repeated the maneuver with the other beer. He proudly smiled and took a drink of it himself, coughing out a laugh as you punched his arm. “That wasn’t for you, you pig!”

“It’s my fee!” Chan snickered while he set down the bottle and retrieved a new beer to open it for you. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you smiled. “Just hanging out with Jisung upstairs. What’re you going to do with all this extra time in your day?”

“Not sure yet,” Chan shrugged before he brightened up, apparently having an idea. “You want to hang out when you’re done hanging out with Jisung? We haven’t gone out in forever, just the two of us.”

“You don’t mean tonight, do you?” You asked curiously. “We’re all heading out to karaoke once Min gets off work and Changbin gets out of his late class, remember?”

“That was today?” Chan asked in bewilderment. “What day is it?”

“Thursday,” you smirked as you patted his shoulder. “You’re coming out, right?”

“Of course!” Chan assured you. “I could use some company and a nice time. But we should hang out one of these days.”

“For sure,” you grinned, picking up your bottles and food and heading back up the creaky staircase to Jisung’s room. 

Later that evening, Jisung sat across from you at your table at the karaoke bar. Thankfully, you agreed that always sitting next to each other was weird, and this way Minho could gossip in your ear under the noise or the bar and make fun of other patrons as usual. Right now, however, he had his sights firmly set on making you miserable.

“Jisung looks cute tonight,” Minho spoke in your ear, “did you pick out that hat for him?”

“I did,” you nodded as you sipped your beer, “what about it?”

Jisung perked up. “What? I heard my name.”

“I was admiring your hat,” Minho grinned his Cheshire grin. 

“Oh. Thanks!” Jisung nodded and raised his glass in acknowledgment before going back to flicking through his phone. The others were up by the stage, cheering on Changbin as he’d had just enough drinks to start singing ballads. Minho, however, stayed right by your side. 

“You’ve been hanging out together a lot lately. Something I should know?”

“Nope,” you shook your head emphatically. “We just like hanging out together.”

“Gotcha,” Minho nodded in ardent understanding. “So Jisung won’t care if I just—“ You jolted as Minho boldly wrapped an arm around your shoulder and leaned in, challenging you with his eyebrow raised. 

“Nuh-uh,” you replied coolly, “because we just like hanging out together.”

Jisung caught your eye, raising his own eyebrow and putting his face back in his phone. As Minho continued to tease and bother you, talking right in your ear as he held you close, Jisung kept his nose in his screen. Finally, a commotion approached as the boys came to the table. 

Chan grabbed your hand to pull you away. “You’ve just been watching all night! Come sing with me.”

“I’m waiting on some food,” you made a quick excuse, and Minho knew it. Before he could out you, you put his glass back in his hand and pushed it to his mouth. “Besides, Minho’s been wanting to join you!”

Minho choked on his beer as he was about to call you out, but you clutched his face in both hands and held him still so you could plant a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek and wish him luck. Predictably, Minho was so grossed out by the gesture that he instantly relinquished you, and the boys quickly extracted him from his chair and herded him towards the stage. Chan nearly stayed behind, but Minho reached back, snatching his sleeve and pulling him along. 

You found yourself alone with Jisung at the table, feeling weirdly similar to the first night you’d really met. Jisung sighed, got up, and grabbed your empty glasses to get a new round without saying a word. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, playing with the damp cardboard coaster in front of you as you waited. What was with the weird look Jisung gave you? Minho played with you like that all the time. Out of all your friends, you were most physically “affectionate” with him, except for maybe Chan back when he wasn’t always working. As for Chan, what was with the weird looks he’d been giving you, too? He didn’t look any more stressed or tired than usual. In fact, Chan looked great. He actually changed clothes to come out, ditching his necktie and oxfords for his much comfier preference of a dark hoodie and some sneakers. It almost made you wistful, remembering going out for junk food when he first got his shitty car, or staying up late together and helping him with his graduation projects. But in the end he landed a great job, and he found a great house to  rent with his friends. Maybe he worked too much, but that wasn’t much of a problem. The only problem right now was the weird look he was giving you tonight. Honestly, you were more than likely overthinking it. Chan was always too busy, even when you first met and you had to make excuses to hang out while studying. He was probably just feeling cooped up at work and feeling a little wistful himself. 

Jisung cleared his throat as he set a fresh beer in front of you. For once in his life, he looked thoroughly annoyed. You tugged on his sleeve, which he promptly pulled away. 

“What’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing,” Jisung shook his head. He put on a good smile until you sighed as he sat back down. Thinking playfully, you kicked up a foot onto his chair from under the table, landing right between his legs and barely resting against his crotch. 

“Tell me what’s up,” you tried again, now as you teasingly tapped the sole of your shoe against him. Jisung covered up his full shiver by pretending to crack his neck. 

“Fine,” he sighed, “you’re not as quiet as you think you are. What’s up with you and Minho?”

“Gross,” you laughed, “me and Minho? There’s nothing up with us. He was giving me a hard time because you and I hang out so much.”

“Right. About that.” Jisung took a deep breath and exhaled hard through his nose. A thud reverberated through you where your heart sank. You knew that look. You nearly pulled your foot away, but he held onto your ankle.  “I haven’t asked yet, but what exactly are we? We don’t hold hands, we don’t kiss outside of… well, you know. You’re having a good time, right?”

“Me? Of course,” you nodded emphatically. “This is great, and that’s why I haven’t wanted to name this. Isn’t this fun?”

“Of course it’s fun,” Jisung nodded as well. “Is that why you haven’t wanted to tell the guys?”

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, “we’re always in each other’s business. I know for a fact Seungmin has a crush on the girl working in the student cafe because I’ve seen him there six times in the last three days. Changbin is desperately trying not to fail two of his classes while juggling his internship so he can graduate on time. Jeongin didn’t make the tennis team because he slept in because he was up studying the night before. Everyone knows everyone’s business, and you and I… it’s between you and I.”

“Can you and I be You and I, then?” Jisung asked suddenly. “It can still be between us.”

“Why do you want to?” You asked defensively. The thought of opening up like that with Jisung was terrifying, honestly. You hadn’t been in a “real” relationship in ages, and the closest you’d gotten since then was whatever three ring circus you and Chan had going on, and look where that had gotten you. This was easy. It needed to stay easy. 

“Uh,” Jisung floundered. For some reason, he didn’t seem to predict needing to explain himself. Nevertheless he sat up straight, his hand still on your ankle as he played with your shoelaces. “I want to because I really like you,” he said with determination. “You’re pretty and you’re a great friend and you’re fun to be around. When we fool around I still want to hang out after. I want to hang out with you all the time, actually.”

Your face heated up tremendously at Jisung’s words, but it made you want to back up, not come closer. He looked like he meant it and you recoiled at the thought. You wanted Jisung, you wanted him like crazy, but you had so much on your mind. Graduation was coming up, work was work, and the lease on your apartment was ending in the summer. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to move after graduation. Choosing to stick by Jisung just sounded like it would complicate everything, and that wasn’t even taking feelings into account. This wasn’t even to say how satisfying fooling around with Jisung was. It was mutually attentive, mutually gratifying, and easy. He loved the way you were in charge and you loved being in charge. But who would be in charge in a relationship? Being together would complicate things, more likely than not. 

“I—“ you stammered, eyes glued to the foam on top of your beer. “I need to think about it.”

“Maybe I should’ve found that out before we started doing this on a regular basis,” Jisung sighed while shaking his head. He gently pushed your foot off his chair and got up, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets before he walked out. 

For the first time since you met, Jisung left you on Read that night when you texted to see if he got home alright. The next morning in class, he refused to make eye contact with you as you turned in your latest draft with his suggestions in it, and you didn’t catch him anywhere on campus the rest of the day. The weekend didn’t look any more promising. It was driving you mad, sitting around your apartment and noticing Jisung clearly be online and elsewhere, clearly hanging out around Minho when you called him while you were taking a bath. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Have you seen Jisung?”

“Have I seen — What, do you want to-? No? — Yeah, I’ve seen him. He’s just busy.”

He was just openly avoiding you and it made you furious. It made you upset at how much you wanted him. It made you miss him and how nice it was to be around him. Most of all, though, it made you want to get his attention, see if any effort would catch his eye and open up an avenue to hash out some of these inconvenient feelings between you. 

You felt petty as you regarded the dress you’d picked out on Monday. It was cute, something simple and short, but undeniably flattering. You tried to think of when you last wore the little skater dress, and marveled at the realization it had to have been ages ago, back when you were trying to catch someone else’s eye. Something had invariably changed since then, because you certainly didn’t have the patience for this as often anymore, but you felt invigorated as you sat down and put on a full face of makeup. Jisung already thought you were pretty without it, so maybe this would push him to make his opinions known. Maybe it could even make you express some of your own. 

He certainly seemed to be considering something as he stared at you in class, apparent even from where he sat at the front of the lecture hall. You expected a sneaky text message, or maybe an IM, but in the end he got you in the one place that really let you know how he felt. He returned the drafts that had been turned in on Friday, and you flipped through the stack that had been passed down the aisle to find yours. Staring back at you was a litany of red pen brutalizing your draft, and a sticky note attached to the front of your bibliography. See me.

You waited for the lecture hall to empty and for Professor Brown to clear out before you gingerly opened the door at the front of the room. Jisung was slouched into his chair at the end of the hall, arms folded across his chest and looking clearly agitated. You took a deep breath as you approached him and set your bag down beside his desk, pumping yourself up to be open. 

“So,” you carefully began, “was my paper always bad or were you just blowing off steam?”

“Blowing off steam,” Jisung admitted, eyes downcast as he kept finding himself staring at the hems of your knee socks. 

“I do want you, I hope you know,” you explained, almost challenging yourself as much as you were challenging him. “I want you so much.”

“I know that much at least,” Jisung placated, and he finally slid his chair back from his desk to face you. You nodded seriously, taking the opportunity to reach for his hand on the armrest. His hand was warm in yours but he remained wary.

“I know you know,” you confirmed, and you stepped closer until you were standing between his knees. His fingers absently toyed with your socks, and you took the opportunity to sit on his lap. Jisung froze at the sudden gesture, and even more so as you affectionately stroked his hair away from his forehead. The feelings swirling around your head refused to come out, but damn it if he didn’t look so cute trying to focus. “I’ve missed you all weekend. Did you miss me?”

“Maybe I did,” he shrugged in an attempt to look nonchalant, trying not to intrepidly bounce his knee as you led his hand to the top of your socks. Regrettably, playing around seemed leagues easier than talking now. 

“Did you think about me?” You prodded. The rapid beat of your heart eased as Jisung seemed to start melting his icy facade and he nodded again. Your chest welled with the force of your stroked ego; you’d successfully changed the subject and bought a fast track to forgiveness. 

“Maybe I did,” he repeated, but his wandering eyes gave him away. 

“Come on,” you pouted, “tell me.” Jisung bit at his lip before you shifted around, now straddling him in his chair, and his eyes widened as you wordlessly implored him. 

“Why should I?” He struggled out, especially as you subtly rolled your hips against his. Jisung seemed to have finally wised up to your impulse, but now you wanted it, and you would try to get it. 

“Because I thought about you,” you smiled softly, glad to be having a grip on the situation again. “I thought about you every night, and I was so lonely without you.”

“Right,” Jisung scoffed now, shaking all his temptation off and disgruntled as he herded you off his lap. “You know what? Prove it. Come out with me tonight. The guys will be there, but that’s exactly what you want, right? You want you and I to be a little secret?”

“Jisung,” you bristled, “you and I haven’t even agreed to be You and I.”

Jisung impatiently folded his arms. “Say no or come out with me tonight. Stop trying to fuck your way out of this if you actually care about me. This can be our little secret, but I won’t be your little power trip.”

You folded your arms as well, matching him in frustration as you considered what Jisung was proposing. If you went out with him that night, he might push you to confront some feelings you really didn’t want to. If you didn’t go out with him that night, however, you could see your friendship quickly dissolving. “Fine,” you huffed. “I’ll be at the bar tonight.”

What a terrible idea.

[mollydollyjournals]

Its Thursday 1st July and I hit post limit so all I can do is update this post

I just want to drink til i pass out

9:46pm - oh when did i post this? Doesnt matter i guess. It really annoys me that the daily post limit applies to all blogs you have. I have 2 and i follow a lot of NSF- stuff so i have so much in my queue for my other blog, and i tend to post more immediately for that so i dont end up with a massive backlog, but thaats when i hit the limit. Whatever it is. I basically just wish i could set the queue to post more often when i have more there. Just post every 15mins or whatever and it'd go through quicker without me having to do it myself

Idk it doesnt matter i guess. Im still just venting all my bullshit here that i cant put anywhere else. But now is when i need it. I want interaction and company but i dont want to bother anyone and I dont know what to do with it. I dont have it in me to try to be a person right now. Tumblr is for messy. At least thats how i do.

But once you hit post limit it apparently doesnt even let you delete stuff to post anything else. I havent been here in years really so i totally forgot. Plus it could have been different anyway. Idk. Guess i will just drink until i disintegrate or something

10:20pm - it just makes me feel worse. I know theres a reason for post limit and its not the end of the world. Just it doesnt reset til 5am and I'll be asleep by then which means for the rest of today i cant actually say anything, and that kinda fucks with my derealisation/depersonalisation/whatever it is. I need acknowledgement to feel real. I need people to remind me that i exist. Even just a little. Its stupid and insecure but i do. Everything is worse since covid and being stuck in a house with someone who barely acknowledges my existence. I feel like a ghost. I feel netter at least a little temporarily if someone just sees and acknowledges me. And currently i can't do anything about that. Nobody is going to go to my page(s) and see whats up, its not that kind of thing. Even if it was they still wouldnt. I put on my other social media fucking ages ago that i was really struggling, then i disappeared, and it took days for it to get noticed at all. Then only 3 people acknowledged it. People have their own lives and there are algorithms etc so i cant be angry at them, but the end result is i still feel really alone.

I often feel like i want to just talk to people. Only a select few. Its not that i necessarily need to talk about "deep" stuff, but i need to know that i could if i needed to. Or if we just both happened to be in that mood at the same time. Like how i dont wanna talk about something totally innocent and generic with someone who turns out to be racist or whatever.

I dont know. Maybe i do need to talk some shit through right now. Doesnt matter either way. Ill most likely just be back to this post later to say more about how i dont really feel like being alive.

10:39pm - I hate that im like this. I dont know if its reasonable or not. I used to be someone who wantes so much space. I still dont feel like i want to always be around people. I must have some individuality somewhere. But i cant find it. Since the pandemic hit especially, it just highlighted everything ive been missing and trying to supplement. I need things to change. But i dont have a hope of doing so while i feel like this. Im so lost. Ive spent my life trying to be confident in myself and ive run my reserves dry. I so rarely get any help topping up. I fucking hate the whole Strong Black Woman trope. Im tired. Ive carried my family since I was 13 and romantic partners have expected me to carry them too. I need to be held and comforted. I need support. If nothing else i need to just be acknowledged. I dont feel like a person. Im invisible and inaudible so much of the time and apparently that only changes when someone wants to see or hear me. When do i get to be a person in my own right? When does someone actually see or hear me for who i am and care about my existence regardless of what it does for them

10:54pm - its the worst of my mental health, tbh, that i dont feel like its worth trying anything if its not going to be acknowledged and welcomed by anyone else. Existing included. I feel my worst and most suicidal when i cant have anyone remember that i exist. Because maybe i dont. Maybe people dont miss me or think of me unless theyre reminded for some specific reason. And i say these things because i want to be proved wrong but why would anyone.

I want to cut. I hate this stupid post limit. I could have at least distracted myself by reblogging stuff for a bit. Im still spiralling. I need a distraction and there isnt one and there wont be one and if i even get through tonight itll just be another reminder that in the end im alone

11:24pm - something feels particularly cruel about not being able to post here, even if i delete stuff. Its just an app sure but its the closest thing i have to therapy. I came back here specifically because i was struggling posting on my regular social media and having people not pay any attention. I thought id make a fresh anonymous account where i could vent and my shitty brain couldnt take it personally if nobody acknowledged it. Now i just have all that shit going round my head and nowhere to put it. Im right back where i started. Nobody will read this. If they do they wont care. If by some chance they did they'll be put off by me being so negative.

"One day someone will hug you so tight all tour broken pieces will fit back together" yeah sure. Whatever.

[thecoreofashapple]

Noticing 👩‍👧Nostalgia

Went sailing last weekend ⛵️ - #yardsaling that is. Did some thrift shopping today and there’s something satisfying about finding something that catches your eye - has a history - is under 5$ and for myself, creating something new or refurbishing it to make it my own. That got me thinking about the word nostalgia. The past, be it 15min ago to 15 years ago is filled with memories, and unfortunately I, like may others have spent a lot of time over thinking that. We replay situations, we can have triggers, ptsd, we can be brought to panic or overwhelming anxiety by a single thought and we also have the power to think lovely things. We don’t sit there and have nostalgic thoughts all day... they wouldn’t be as special if we did... being stuck in past thoughts actually affect your current path, you will manifest and repeat what you “need” to until the though pattern is broken and you’re able to live in the NOW. We must learn to use the past as guidance, get real with our inner being, listen to our body’s - intuition is strong, if your inline with your soul you will be lead with ease on your path. Choose to count your blessings, and all the good you have surrounding you. Keep with the basics and work your way up, some people don’t have a bed to sleep in, a safe place to call home. Be grateful that you’re able to read, to walk, to think for yourself!

Some more then others associate emotion and personal attachment to objects, music, pictures, colours.... Heartbreak can lead you to emotions of sadness when you hear a certain song, pictures are close to home, colours can change your mood...

The way that I interpret Nostalgia, is a body, mind, soul connection comparable to when the grinch’s heart grows 3x 💗I feel a comforting warmth in my chest and a secure, full body joy that stops me in my tracks. It’s as thought my body is in a peaceful pause as my mind goes back in time and feels a memory. All the while I am fully conscious and aware of my surroundings, and that I’m standing having a memory but making a memory of the memory at hand. Make sense? Being fully present (practicing mindfulness) is such a beautiful self discovery. Being right where you are, and feeling so grateful that you just touched on another realm. The wonder of nostalgia is something that at the time, We’re unaware of, and only years later, when something on our path reminds us, do we then become aware of how special some memories can be. Now as we learn and grow we develop a sense of how near and dear we will keep that moment. My point being, from memory/creation 1 ALL the way til you reach memory 2 (revisiting memory 1) there’s moments in between that you feel your world is over, we have heartbreak, sadness, self doubt, hurt.... and we think that those times will never go away and by repeating those negative thoughts were creating patterns and habits. Getting there SUCKS, but it’s only temporary, and when you’re in those moments - there may be something your body or intuition is trying to tell you,

So ask, get comfortable with uncomfortable and know that all that time in between 1/2 can be a lot lighter then we think. Because re living that happiness to a tee is possible. So if we can create the negative, spiral, woe is me thoughts- we can ALSO create these powerful heartfelt, secure, happy moments because you WILL, have, find and create more moments of nostalgia in your lifetime and now this moment , as you hold, hear or see your memory - you will/can have that power again and again - it’s a matter of perspective.

If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

This could have made zero sense to some or all of you, and maybe someone out there understands what I’m trying to express. If anyone is reading, thank you for taking the time.

I have so much I’d like to express and I’m trying different outlets and methods that work for me. I’ve been writing poetry for almost a year now,

I speak through my painting and energy and as i mentioned in an earlier post, I’m now using social media as a tool to heal, Help, learn, grow and connect - no longer will I hide my true self. I will speak my truth without judgment and egotistical views, I am a student and a teacher.

If it’s not for you, scroll on please and keep comments to yourself.

I’m going to post a series of photos that I went through tonight after my nostalgday and its unbelievable to see/feel the amount of changes that life has had.

Some moments time feels like it’s standing still and I want to shift NOW, I feel days drag, other times it’s like you blink and the years gone!

So - life is too short to be in debilitating patterns and cycles of unhappy, unhealthy jobs, relationships, Friendships....

And it’s too long to be in debilitating habits, toxic relationships (partner,friends,fam,working) be riddled with anxiety because of fear,

To ignore the underlying cause of depression, anxiety or stagnant energy.

Numbing yourself, breaking boundaries and living, speaking or acting out of alignment with your values or truth.

If you don’t make the changes needed and treat yourself with the kindness, love, respect and limits you want from others you will always struggle receiving that from anyone else.

We have no control on what happens outside of ourselves, we have a choice to change our reactions, our environments, our circles, Our patterns, our character, our beliefs... and we are allowed to change - stay the same - grow, rise or slip and fall, Try out as many hats as you’d like, and if you’re happy with yourself at the end of the day, when no one is watching, and there’s nothing to distract or numb you, then you’re living your best authentic life and the universe will shower you with abundance and love.

[kisskissbanggang]

Death Warmed Up

[<15Min Read/~4K Words - Coffee Shop Au - Felix x Neutral Death!Reader - Fluff, Minor Angst - Dogs, Death, Coffee]

[Originally slated for the skzwriternet Cozy Collab, but here it is! Hope you enjoy.]

Nets: @skzwriternet​ @kwritersworld​

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You stared at the assignment you had found on your desk. This was late… by two years?

The notion was fully ludicrous. Even with a file like this, there was no way that it could reasonably have been delayed by two whole years. Then again, the idea of getting saddled with an interesting case intrigued you. It sort of felt fancy — important, even — to see this in your inbox when you sat at your desk. You flicked through the file again. Felix Lee, 21 years old: living on Borrowed Time since he was 19.

You hadn’t been an Arbiter very long, and you mulled over just how little Borrowed Time you’d really seen since your appointment. There was the tiny old grandmother — Jane, you thought her name was — a matriarch of her household and a staple of her community, but even then her Arbiter, Bill, could only find her a year from scraping together everything he could. He had told you all that when he did finally meet her at the end, he was in tears along with all her family, and she was the only one smiling. The fact that this kid could be afforded two years was a feat in and of itself, to a point that you were morbidly curious who the previous Arbiters were. The most recent was Jisung, a surprising name to find. Jisung was nice, he liked to maintain how he looked when he died in the mid-nineties, nose ring and flannel and all… and he currently worked as a first-level Arbiter, watching day-to-day activities between humans and the world around them. When you got transferred into the department you’d had no idea that he used to be up on this level. The previous Arbiter’s name was Chan: a name you didn’t recognize and had never heard around the office. Whatever had happened, you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to get distracted by excuses. You needed to see for yourself.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

It was a surprisingly balmy autumn afternoon when you finally found the cafe. Even with all the extra instincts and wherewithal you were afforded by your position, you still had to search around for the little coffee bar, a humble cubby hidden away in an alley off a side street in the bustling city. Some trees lined the sidewalk outside and the orange leaves managed to drift on by, and there was a young man sweeping them off the stoop of the cafe before he turned to go back inside. You opened your portfolio and pulled out your file again. You examined it closely. Could that have been him? The guy now cleaning up behind the bar? There was no way that was him. You stepped closer down the alley.

Thankfully, even if the young man in the window did look up, he wouldn’t see you in this plane you were currently occupying. Your body was only as real as your conscious willed it considering you were already dead, and right now you were perfectly content watching the barista bustling about behind the counter. A little old man with smart half-moon glasses waved from where he sat in his cracked leather armchair by a tall bookshelf, getting his attention.

“Felix, dear, could you top me off?”

Well, there, then. This was the guy.

He didn’t seem so special.

Felix didn’t look like his picture. That was your first hint. The photo was always a snapshot of the client at the time the referral was made to Arbitration, and he looked much worse for wear a couple years ago, laying in a hospital bed and hooked up to a spiderweb of tubes. Here, now, Felix stood tall and healthy, slim but fit under his apron, a modest but present definition in his arms showing through the rolled sleeves of his shirt as he set about making a new drink for the tottering old man. A spray of freckles adorned his dainty nose and rested among the golden glow of his cheeks, and he even had a little satisfied smile curling at his lip as he got the foam just right on the old man’s coffee.

You still didn’t see what all the fuss was about.

A dog ran up to Felix behind the counter, a panting golden retriever asking for pats, and your heart begrudgingly melted. In fact, there were even more dogs you hadn’t noticed. A small scotty rested at the feet of the old man. A tiny chihuahua slept in a basket on the counter that barely roused as Felix stepped over to add the drink to the man’s tab. A sleek sheepdog sat up from behind the counter to let him by, and a basset hound raised its head from where it sat in another chair when Felix set the warm cup on a small table by his elderly customer. Felix pet the dogs in a round and wiped up a string of drool from the basset with the corner of his apron before he returned to the counter and washed his hands.

Fine, so Felix was good with dogs.

But being good with dogs didn’t automatically mean you were entitled to Borrowed Time.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

You returned with gusto the next day, ready to confront this supposedly difficult client. Your getup was simple, fully materialized now and dressed as a package courier. This form was common when working on this plane, even popular with other people in your department like Jisung, the previous Arbiter, who actually did use to deliver packages back before he died. It made sense in getting a feel for who a client really was. This was a blue collar worker that people were used to seeing and seeing through, and could really show who a person could be, given the right situation. And you really wanted to see who Felix could be.

You strolled into the cafe, large box in hand with a clipboard sitting on top and a pen tucked behind your ear. Felix perked up when you let it thunk onto the counter, the weight taking care of the poignancy.

“Delivery,” you boredly greeted. “Can you sign for this?”

“Er,” Felix stared — at you, the box, and back at you, “what is it? I wasn’t expecting anything.”

You laughed out loud as you held out your pen to him. “I don’t know, I’m just delivering it. Can you sign for this, please?”

Felix bit at his lip before he grabbed the proffered pen and signed, and you looked amused as you stood and watched him slice open the box with a pair of scissors from under the counter. What surprised you was that this old trick — this misdelivered box of assorted mugs and pens — only made Felix laugh.

“I didn’t order these!”

“That’s too bad,” you shrugged sympathetically. Admittedly, his smooth and deep voice was pleasantly unexpected, catching you off guard. “They’re addressed here and you signed for them.”

Felix’s eyes widened as he plucked out a piece of paper. “There’s an invoice?! With a balance on it?!”

But he still only laughed. You were a bit stumped.

“I guess I’ll pay this before I return it,” Felix shrugged. “I’d hate for someone to get a late bill on a mistake like this.”

You were puzzled, to say the least, as you turned to leave, but then Felix stopped you.

“Hey!” He called. “I feel bad that you had to come all the way here just for this to not be mine. Can’t I at least get you a drink on the house? Do you like dogs?”

The most astounding thing of all was you felt yourself heat up at his offer. This was well and truly bizarre, but you needed to check this out as well. There had to be fine print. You should’ve looked closer at the file.

You dumbly nodded as Felix gladly directed you over to a seat at the bar by his register. When he asked what you liked and you added a dumb shrug to your list of unintended responses, he shrugged in return and said he’d love to surprise you, then. Felix ground some beans down to a dense powder, pressed it into a puck, and pulled a couple espresso shots. You found yourself intrigued, having never seen or paid any attention to someone doing this by hand before. He steamed a small pitcher of milk until a modest head of creamy foam sat on top and carefully poured it in the center of the shots. He proudly slid the cup over to you on a saucer.

“A flat white,” he humbly presented. You silently nodded your gratitude and tried it. This was utterly confounding. The same misdelivery stunt got a shoe thrown at you by a client a few years back. You had to put the cup down as soon as you tried a sip.

“Is everything alright?” Felix worriedly asked. The fluffy lab originally sleeping on the rug in the center of the cafe got up to check on you, his wet nose leaving a slight print on your uniform pants.

“Er, yeah,” you gulped down the hot drink on your lips, “this is just really good. Are you sure I can’t pay you?”

Felix raised a hand to deny you. “Wouldn’t dream of accepting it. I’m sure you’ve been working hard all day anyway.”

“Sure have,” you stiffly lied. “Well, I can at least tip you.”

You conjured a wallet with a sizable bill inside, more than enough to cover the coffee as you quickly downed the modestly sized beverage. Felix beamed as you waved goodbye.

Fine.

So Felix was nice. So Felix was really nice. Felix was really nice, and kind, and he made good coffee.

But you’d have to try anyway. There was something in him that could convince you that he wasn’t 100% good, even though that shouldn’t have been a reason from the beginning.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

You returned two nights later, but you didn’t enter the small side street. Instead, you paced in front of your parked bike out on the sidewalk, over and over again, working up the nerve. After a while, though, you knew it was time. You would goad Felix into dropping the act, into showing who he really was under all the sugar and sunshine. After making sure the sizeable package was sitting precariously on your handlebars to match the one on the back of your bike, you revved the little engine as Felix swept the stoop for the night. You barreled down the street, apparently unable to see much in front of you beyond the shoddy headlight. This was fine. This was easy. You’d done this before, and a saint of an old schoolteacher beat the snot out of you with their cane for it a while back. Felix noticed you at the last second, eyes widening comically as you reflexively honked.

You couldn’t do it.

Your finger barely squeezed the brake, but the front axle jackknifed and sent you ass over elbows onto the pavement.

Everything went white for a second and you definitely did not miss being alive in this moment, because this invariably sucked. And now Felix was there.

“It’s you!” Felix gasped and immediately offered you a hand up. “You scared the daylights out of me!”

“Uh,” you stammered and groaned, “I can say the same.” You could not wait to leave this plane and not feel the pain radiating in your hip and back. But right now, Felix was already pulling you into the cafe and fretting.

“Are you in a rush? You should at least sit down a moment.”

You sighed and let Felix seat you in a comfy chair by a heater in the small cafe, only lit by warm lamps at this time of night. The basset hound watching from a basket on the low windowsill came to sit at your feet as Felix hurriedly set about making you a hot cup of tea. He rushed over, light on his feet and pushing the warm mug into your hands. You nearly spat as you looked closer at the ceramic cup. “Is this—?”

“From that box you brought me the other day? Sure is.” Felix let the force of his belly laugh carry him into a chair beside you. “The funniest thing, really. I tried calling the phone number on that invoice and only got busy tones, and I tried looking up the business and only found dead websites. I figured I could always use pens and mugs, so now I have a supply and a funny story.”

You could crumple into dust, honestly. You set the mug on the little table by your chair, albeit a tad roughly. “I’m so sorry,” you shook your head, “but what is your deal? You’re literally the happiest person I ever met.”

Felix’s eyes pointed sharp into you. There it was.

But he wasn’t angry. He seemed embarrassed.

“Well,” he sighed, even still attempting to maintain his persistent smile, “it’s a long and tired story. I was really sick a couple years ago and I pulled through when no one thought I could.”

“I’m sorry—” you meekly interjected, but it was too late. The shine in Felix’s eye finally dulled, if only a little. You’d cracked him.

“It’s fine,” Felix reassured you. He gently patted your knee before he got back up to his feet. “You go ahead and enjoy your tea. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Of course, yeah,” you babbled as you got up and followed him anyhow, “I’m just glad I didn’t hit you.” You set the mug on the bar and sat down as he walked behind the register. The chihuahua in his basket drowsily got up and walked into your hand for pets.

“I was going to say the same,” Felix nodded tiredly with a worn smile. “It’s happened before. I guess I should put some lights up outside. A cute delivery boy almost ran me over with his bike about a year ago, too.”

“Delivery boy?” You asked starkly. Felix caught your look before falling right back into stride. His grin seemed to get its warmth back.

“Yeah,” he nodded amusedly. “He had an adorable nose ring, I remember I was terrified I almost ripped it out when he helped me up.”

Felix looked confused at the very least as you choked on your tea.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered out. “You know I — it’s weird that — I just remembered I need to be somewhere. Thank you again, for everything.” You dug out entirely too much money for the tea and clapped it down onto the counter before grabbing your things and sprinting out the door.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

Jisung looked caught as you slapped Felix’s file on his desk. “Hi,” he squeaked as you towered over him.

“What happened when you tried to crack him?”

The young Arbiter let his head drop back with a hard sigh. “You got the file? I knew he couldn’t last long.”

“You only gave him another year, you had to know this was coming.”

“He was just so—? He’s so nice, and genuine, and warm?” Jisung blathered on as he sat back up and flipped through the file. “He was never the same since what Chan did. He was the most amazing turnaround I’d ever seen.”

“So you gave him a year—“

“I didn’t.” Jisung shook his head. “Look closer at the file. I put him back in the queue for Reassessment.”

“What do you mean you—“

“Look,” Jisung insisted. He grabbed your sleeve and dragged you down the hall. “I put him back in Reassessment and was lucky to only get demoted. After what Chan did, I couldn’t bring myself to do more.”

“What are you showing me?”

“Here.”

Jisung shook out his hands and you found yourself standing beside him in a graveyard. This was a pleasant enough place to end up. The grass was neatly trimmed and there were trees and benches to sit on. The orange and red leaves scattered around looked like confetti, a graceful celebration at the end of life. Jisung stood between two headstones.

“I made the mistake of looking at what Chan did, except Felix’s family wasn’t gone yet when he had the file. They were on their way out, though. He saw that they were leaving soon, and Felix would be alone with his grandfather at his cafe. His grandfather would be all alone after losing all of them, and that would be after everything Felix would go through, getting sick and getting better and learning to live again. Chan saw a horrible ending to an awful story and put a stop to it, and he got banished for it.”

“That’s not fair though,” you shook your head, “no matter how much you or he wanted it.”

“But look at him!” Jisung reeled. “That decision made one of the brightest humans I’ve ever seen. When I put him back to Reassessment, I just spent time around him before I was called back. I suggest you do the same, no matter what you choose. I hope this helped.”

Jisung haughtily folded his arms before he vanished. You finally looked more closely at the headstones. Those years were much too close together. Your heart hung low in your gut.

◇─◇──◇──🍂──◇──◇─◇

Felix grinned wide when you returned to the cafe. He immediately set about making you a drink.

“I was wondering when I’d see you again.”

“You were?”

This was feeling familiar, like you were home or at a friend’s house, while you sat yourself in an easy chair and let the panting sheepdog sit between your feet so you could scratch under her chin.

“Yeah!” Felix brightly called over. “Because you asked why I’m like this, I sort of only gave you half an answer.”

“I’m sorry again,” you lamented.

“It’s fine,” Felix said adamantly as he set a warm mug in your hands. He gestured grandly before sitting down. “A latte. Now, I only gave you half an answer. The fact of the matter is that I spent a good while tied to tubes and machines with nothing to do and no choice in the matter. Now, all this time later, I’m just happy to be here, because I know the day after could be any day now.”

“The day after?”

Felix nodded. “When you come away from something like that, later it just feels like a day. One big day, or week, or whatever is tangible, but it definitely wasn’t forever. It feels like one big day to me. This, in the grand scheme of things, is the day after that, but the day after this, when everything actually does end— I’m expecting it. And I’m not scared, but I’m going to be enjoy my time here as much as I can.”

“You’re not scared?”

“Not anymore,” Felix shook his head in determination. “I had to cope with my own loss like everyone else was getting ready to cope with losing me. I didn’t get to have that luxury of not expecting it anymore, because I know what it looks like and I know what’s coming. To do anything else would be a disservice, so I’d rather walk into it with a clear mind and a full life.”

You thought of Bill and Jane, how she was the only one not crying at the end. It was hard to place exactly how you felt, sipping your coffee made with loving hands in this small cafe full of an inordinate amount of golden afternoon sunlight for being so hidden away from the main road. Felix fit here — cosmically, almost, in the least dramatic way you could muster.

“I’m really glad you feel that way,” you said, hoping that the added sincerity hidden behind the sentiment was felt.

The shimmer in Felix’s eyes told you it was. “I am, too. And I’m especially glad you’re back, because I like seeing you around. I don’t think I’ve given away this many free drinks since that delivery boy last year.”

“I like seeing you, too, Felix.” You finally admitted it, and it was true, even more so as Felix’s shining smile grew even more. You did like seeing Felix, and you would continue to see Felix as much as you were able, all the way to the end.