#taking myself out for a drink afterwards as a reward so I have that to look forward to at least

[pianogav1n]

getting my covid vaccine in an hour everybody clap

[byoldervine]

Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

[letmesleeponu4sumtime]

20220207

I’m snacking right now; gunpowder tea and cinnamon hotteok. I just had lunch, I made myself spring rolls with a side of kimchi. I’m sleepy, the weather is fluctuating a lot. Two days ago it was 65 degrees, these past two days it’s been 78-80 degrees. Fall and winter are kind of obsolete in California

_+As I pour my second cup of tea, Ryuchi Sakamoto’s “12” plays in my AirPods. I think this is my favorite album of his

I’ve been reading a lot of Health Gossip so yesterday I took my first olive oil bath and did an oil pulling. I want to make olive oil baths a part of my weekly routine. I felt so anew afterward. I listened to a semi-ambient playlist I made and soaked for about 20 minutes. My hair is so soft and hydrated

_+I’m loving this tea. You must drink it while it’s still hot enough to burn your tongue to get the balanced floral notes. I always let tea sit out...This reminds me of something I read somewhere on the internet where this woman’s mother dies and she visits her house and is reminded of her through all the full cups of tea she left around. I guess she often got distracted, I see myself in that

Today I was thinking about the art of practicing self care while at work as I recalled my olive oil bath from last night. It was a random thought. I feel like every time I scroll on Tik Tok cursed videos will slip into my carefully curated peaceful algorithm of women “looksmaxxing". They go to bed with all these devices on that are supposed to enhance your appearance over time. For example chin straps, mouth tape, head wrap, face masks, red light therapy masks…while I deeply enjoy the concept of self-care and looking after yourself and they can be quite entertaining to watch on occasion there is an insane obsession with looking perfect that exists on the internet. God forbid you get caught in a bad photo or look like you worked 40 hours that week (because you did). Despite generally hating photos of myself, I think there is something so beautiful about someone that looks human, that looks like they live in their body. Our bodies aren’t cars or vehicles that exist solely to do worldly tasks before we retreat back to the internet at the end of the day. They’re our homes. Yes, take care of yourself and indulge in excessive treatments from time to time, if it makes you feel good but there has to be an intrinsic motivation behind it. The concept of self-care that’s become mainstream is an aesthetic, not a practice with its only reward being extrinsic. When making self-care intrinsic it’s much deeper than an Aesop or Barbra Sturm face mask, lighting overpriced incense in Tekla PJ's. It’s the hard stuff; sitting in silence, reflecting, putting your phone down, having real conversations….I don’t know..just thinking out loud...

[08melancholie]

Heyy i know u don't usually write about Kieran but i literally cannot stop thinking abt him rip..... if u want to i'd be absolutely overjoyed to see ur take on some sweet stuff with him, like how he'd react to the reader taking him out for a date night and essentially spoiling the shit out of him. I'm talking fancy restaurant, nice bath, warm bed, a massage and lots of praise (maybe even a .. "special reward" if u wanna write that 🤭) . Might even be fun to see how you'd write other characters in this scenario! Especially Arthur and maybe even Micah :3

thank you so much!

-🥐

omgomg yes. i literally love kieran like a little brother ive never had. he is all too precious to me and i miss him dearly </3

I absolutely can do Kieran and Micah.... got a long night ahead of me so I have the time🫦 (doing gn!reader btw)

wasn't gonna include "special reward" related hcs at first butttt.... i couldn't help myself. ill put a little marking for when the nsfw part comes up. was gonna do arthur but id totally write him ooc, sorry :(

Kieran

SFW

Definitely assumes you're trying to tease him at first, telling him the entire plan of pampering the life out of him just to laugh in his face. Wouldn't be the first time someone's teased him this way, so he'd be quite wary about who he trusts and whatnot in camp.

Realises you're being serious after you get agitated with him and tell him you're serious for the millionth time, then gets mildly nervous about going out alone with you. He's very appreciative of the thought, and will thank you more times than generally necessary.

"What? You.. you serious? Oh, naw.. I couldn't possibly—well, it's rude to turn it down..."

First stop; General store. You get him much better quality boots and he thanks you profusely. He feels bad about asking, but simply can't leave without buying Branwen a little treat; an apple or rice cake, nothing too much. Splits it in half when you exit the store and let's you feed your half to his horse, who is definitely a fan of the chin scratches you offer afterwards.

Followed up by a few quick drinks, some hope that a little alcohol in your bodies will help you both loosen up a bit, more-so Kieran who is still skittish.

Beers to start with a shot whiskey both.

Kieran scrunches his face slightly and you call him a wimp. This has him pouting at you; Which is adorable.

He's somewhere between a lightweight and a 'normal' drinker, but four beers seems to already make him a bit giddy and much more relaxed, much to your liking

Next, you're dragging him across the street to get yourselves both a room in the hotel and a bath. Instant flashback to John calling him a stinky O'Driscoll. </3

Minimal protest from Kieran, but he lets you do your thing.

You buy the bath for yourselves first and the room for later. You pay and lead Kieran to the reserved room. Locking the door after him and yourself, you lean on the door and wait for him to get in.

"What—in.. in front of you? You... can't exit for a minute.?"

You can't tell if he's getting red in the face from the alcohol consumption or current situation he's in. Either way, you think it's cute.

NSFW

He doesn't know if it's smarter to quickly strip and jump into the water, or to go slowly; you're staring at him either way.

He opts for a medium pace, very carefully handling his new boots and peeling his shirt off first. He's a bit scrawny and more pinkish than tan, light strawberry skin. He has minimal scarring on his body, nothing too serious.

His pants follow and he starts to nervously fumble with the restrains by now, feeling you still looking at him and eyeing every action he takes. He lets his trousers drop and follows with his drawls. You've probably never seen someone drop their underwear so quickly. He instantly jumps into the bath to keep himself at least partially decent—even after you've seen everything already.

He really enjoys higher temperature water since you can't much afford warm baths like these, so he's being very thankful as he basks in the soapy, hot water in front of you.

You lean off the door and walk to the bath. You fold and put his clothes away before rolling your sleeves up and sitting on the edge of the the tub behind him; like the bath girls do it. You've seen it enough times to know what to do.

You purposefully dip your hands very close to his thighs, sides and arms, throughly enjoying each and every time he squirms or grumbles a little whiny noise from inside his chest.

You rub his entire body, no crevice left untouched by your hands. It might be the hot water he's been soaking inside of, but you can feel just how much warmer his skin is with every touch of your hands caressing his whole frame.

You work your way from his shoulders down his torso, ask him to lift his legs and do those—all up to his stomach where you instead stand up, walk a few steps and lean over the tub.

You make sure to brush just barely out of reach when going over his stomach. He can't help throatily whining again, his head leaning back in frustration. This goes on for a few more minutes until you've physically touched every part of him—all but one very active part.

You got him a mess in the bathtub; sweating, whining, giving you pleading eyes. It's a goddamn sight that has you wanting to sling him over your shoulder and carry to your reserved room instantly.

"You can't just do all'a that... Don't be mean.."

You let him soak in his uncomfortableness for a good few minutes, watching him switch between pleased from the nice bath water to squirmy from lack of caring for his little problem.

"Please, don't leave me like this..."

God, those eyes could get you to do anything. You've never stumbled into a hotel room so quickly, having instantly gotten him decent and practically dragged him out of the baths.

Focused on him the rest of the night, doing anything he (silently) asked for and just putting your own, aching need aside for the time being

Micah bonus <3

SFW

Instantly declined at first, grumbling something about not needing your charity. Instantly agreed when you mentioned drinks at the saloon.

"Guess it wouldn't hurt, would it?"

You get him into town and start off in the gun store, obviously. You let him pick out three upgrades to his revolvers since you know he won't buy any new ones, he only ever really uses his own guns.

He's very satisfied, turning his guns in his hands and inspecting them with the new additions you got him.

You lead him towards the saloon next, for the promised drinks.

He drinks your wallet out with ease, shot after shot and he isn't even near drunk yet, comfortably tipsy at most.

You settle for two beers for yourself, and he teased you about the situation again.

"I'm on my fifth whiskey and you're still only drinking beers? Hah!"

You slap his shoulder and continue to drink, wanting to get to the best part rather quickly.

He downs his last whiskey and his empty glass settles next to your empty bottles, both of you leaving.

"What, a bath? That what you think I'll like?"

He's skeptical but agrees, might be nice to enjoy himself a bit more. And he probably stinks.

You get him inside and watch the smirk on his face when you buy a bath—and a room for later.

"Getting bold on me, are 'ya?"

You lock the two of you inside the bathroom and gesture for him to strip. You're still looking, and it just makes him laugh while slipping his coat off and placing his hat on a nearby table.

He doesn't mind you watching, it just grows the sly smile on his face furthermore.

He gets his naked body into the water and lets out a little "oooh" noise, his white eyelashes fluttering with his eyes as he takes in the bordering perfect temperature, relaxing into the tub behind him.

You watch him get in, blissful look on his usually grumpy face. He watches you with a smirk, asking if you'll be joining—joking about it, obviously.

NSFW

You leave him to enjoy the water for.. maybe three minutes, before you can't help yourself anymore.

His eyes go from lidded and content to wide and surprised, lips parted as he watched your undershirt get unbuttoned, revealing skin little by little.

He's very quick to compose himself, comfortably watching you strip yourself fully bare.

You manage to surprise him a second time by dipping yourself down on his abdomen, and the grin on his face just widens, his chuckle echoing through the bathroom.

"You're reeeally going all out on me tonight, huh?"

His hands quickly find your sides and, assuming consent, he starts touching up your entire form; waist, hips, thighs. He rubs his fingers up to the underside of your chest, your lower and upper back.

"'Ya know, you've taken real good care of me tonight, and I'm feelin' generous; let's return the favour, yeah?"

And that he without a doubt did; officially having no use for the room you bought anymore.

The tables get turned on you and he's quick to initiate some good ole bathtub intimacy.

That's the story of how you got banned from the hotel in Valentine because of a noise complaint. Multiple noise complaints. And a high water bill.

i love cowboys <3

[evobedevo]

Caelia (Streamer Name: "Purrfect_Princess") had just finished typing up the code for tonights stream. It was supposed to be able to allow her chat to redeem some extra special rewards and play some new animatics to go along with them, nothing too complex...HOWEVER, that was just the tail end of the massive project overall. Her roommate Estella (Streamer Name: StellArktos_V) had gone to pick up a package she ordered from a friend, which gave her the time and quiet necessary to work in relative quiet.

She really liked Estella, of course...but she couldn't deny that her high energy made it hard to get anything "work related" done.

Feeling a bit tired and noticing her eyesight getting hazier, Caelia yawned and stretched in her chair. She'd have to get ready soon and shower if Estella was already on her way back. Knowing her, she'd want to start their collab stream almost IMMEDIATELY, so Caelia wanted everything to be pristine and perfect once they began. Thankfully, she'd already laid out her usual attire, a really cute pink sweater dress that Estella had bought her, along with a cozy pair of knit stockings.

She got up from her chair, making sure to save her work before heading off to the kitchen to grab something to drink. In her non stop coding adventure she'd forgotten to hydrate, and was feeling the fatigue from doing so. Mincing over to the fridge, she bent over to open it and see....nothing. Turns out the two of them had forgotten to do any grocery shopping the night before.

Caelia sighed and facepalmed. "Damnit E...and myself, I suppose."

As she went to close the fridge though, she noticed a plastic water filled with a bright hot pink liquid. A little sticky note was attached to it with the words "For Stream" written on it. Caelia shrugged. This was most likely Estella's...but certainly she wouldn't mind if she had a little bit of it, right?

She poured herself a glass and drank it, making sure to wash the cup afterwards.

The drink was...strange. It didn't exactly have a taste that one could describe very well, being a sort of creamy but also very bright, almost bubblegum like, taste. There wasn't a clear word for it, but it was noticeably tasty. She did notice however, that she'd dribbled a bit of it on her chest as she was drinking it. That was fine though, she was already planning on taking a shower.

As she walked over to grab her towel, she felt a shiver run through her whole body, followed up by a warmth centered on her chest and hips. A rosy blush came from her cheeks as her eyelids drooped, a pleasurable smile beginning to spread across her face. Taking notice of this, she quickly shook her head in an attempt to wake up. That drink didn't have any alcohol in it, did it? No, she would have tasted it.

Making note to ask Estella what that drink was when she got back, she resolved to wake herself up using the shower to keep her in check. She began to remove her pajama shorts, noticing that they'd felt a little tighter on her than usual.

As she bent over to pick up the shorts from the floor, she heard a slight tearing sound, jolting herself up in embarrassment. Her chest jiggled from the sudden snap back up, as she wasn't wearing a bra under her simple pale pink spaghetti strap top that she used as a pajama top, so it was especially noticeable. With a noticeable blush, she clasped her arm around her bust with one arm, using the other to check around her waist. Unfortunately, she could could confirm the sound was caused by her cotton panties ripping a bit at the seam line, something that made her pout and let out a "tsk" of disappointment. She didn't know how long she'd had those specific ones, but it hadn't been TOO long, had it? Regardless, she removed the panties and her top as she stepped into the shower, making mental note to ask Estella if they could do some clothes shopping sometime soon. The shower itself was uneventful, Caelia just making extra sure to remove the sticky drink stain from her chest. Turning off the steaming hot water, she stepped out into the rapidly cooling air into a loud of condensation that fogged up her mirror...and her glasses, which she'd forgotten to set outside of the bathroom. She let out an agitated sigh, it seemed she was being especially scatterbrained today.

She grabbed the edge of her towel, wiping off the moisture from her glasses, and then proceeding to wrap the rest of the towel around her figure. She walked over to her outfit laid out, hearing the front door unlock.

"Oh hooooney, I'm HOOOOOOME!" Estella yelled out, a big grin on her face. Caelia let out a soft chuckle. The two weren't exactly dating, but Caelia wan't exactly against the idea either...it's just that with Estella, you never knew when she was joking or when she was serious, so she never pushed the question any further. Girls playfully flirt with each other all the time, right?

"Welcome back E~ The stream is all set up so we can begin when I'm done changing. I just finished showering." She grabbed the bra from the bed and put her arms through the straps, clasping it from the front...or she at least she tried. For some reason, it was a bit harder than it usually was, squishing her bust together to clasp it finally, and even then it was struggle.

Did...did her boobs get bigger overnight? Actually, thinking back to the fact that her panties had ripped earlier, was she getting bigger overall? She squished her tummy with a worried expression on her face. "Ooooh, changing? Do you need any heeeelp?" Estella yelled out from the kitchen in a sing-songy tone. It was hard to tell if her lewd flirts were genuine or just an exaggerated persona she put on. Considering how close to the start of the stream they were, she might just be getting into character.

Caelia stammered a response "Oh,n-no it's fine! I'm almost done anyways..."

She shook her head of her thoughts, slipping on the new pair of panties (once again, noticing how they strained against her figure), rolled up her knit thigh highs, and finally slipping into her soft sweater dress, tightening the laces on the back that made the whole outfit sit snugly on her curves. She walked over the mirror, noticing her boobs bouncing in the cups of her bra more than usual and struck a cute pose. People really went wild for Caelia's soft, shy, and curvaceously cute persona, and while it WAS an extension of her true personality, she still felt like she needed to exaggerate the persona a bit and get into character.

She hadn't realized Estella sneaking up behind her...but she took notice when a pair of hands suddenly grabbed her boobs from behind.

"Gotcha cutie <3" "EEEEP!" Caelia let out a surprised little squeal. Estella did this often to her, but it always felt weird...especially now, it seemed her bust was more sensitive than usual, and she could feel every squeeze, even through her bra. "Ooooh, you feel extra yummy today~ Chat's gonna love your reactions when you lose in the competitions today, and I'M gonna have fun teasing you for them <3"

The stream plan for tonight was a series of 1 V 1 competitions in a variety set of different games, all shuffled through randomly. THAT was the reason for most of the coding Caelia was doing.

Caelia scoffed at Estella's teasing. "P-please, I'M the one who coded this thing, what makes you think you stand a chance?" There was a slight waver in her confidence, as Caelia knew that on a purely skill based level, Estella was a wild card. Her level of expertise seemed to be partially carried by dumb luck, and it made competing with her...frustratingly inconsistent, though it did make for some great content.

Estella let go of Caelia, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, I AM on a winning streak recently, and I don't intend on dropping it." Her expression shifted to a smug self assured grin. "You better lock in if you want a chance of beating all of this~" She teasingly traced her own curvy silhouette with her hands enticingly. "...and, there might be a little extra for you if you actually DO manage to beat me~" Caelia walked over to the streaming room, noticing that her bra was beginning to put more pressure on her chest. She grabbed her headset and plugged it into the PC. "Surprise? Is that what you went out to grab?" Estella walked over to the kitchen, opening up the fridge. "Well, kinda. I already had the surprise in here yesterday, this was more to get more material to make it again...also I'm just realizing we never did any grocery shopping yesterday, whoops." Caelia giggled. "Yeah, I meant to tell you that when I checked earlier...but also, what's that drink you have in the fridge already?" Estella grabbed the plastic bottle, setting it on the counter. "THIS...is the surprise~ Trust me, chat's gonna LOVE it."

The PC turned on, and Caelia began typing away to properly set up the stream with the code and all of the games. "Wait, why in particular? It's not like...alcohol is it? You get weirdly competitive when you're tipsy." Estella walked back into the room, putting down 2 glass cups, one in front of her and the other in front of Caelia. "Hey, watch the tech! Put it somewhere where you're SURE it won't spill."

Estella laughed, and grabbed Caelia's cup back. "Right, right. Don't wanna know how THIS could affect tech. Could be funny though."

A click sounded out from Caelia's chest. The two girls looked at each other in shock, though Estella's face started to break out into a mischievous grin. "...Cae, you didn't happen to DRINK some of this already, did you?"

Caelia blushed and looked away. "M-maybe a little." Estella couldn't help but laugh. "Oh ho ho! That explains why you feel so much softer already~ This should be fun to watch." She plopped onto her spinning swivel chair.

Caelia pushed herself away from her PC, a worried expression on her face. She walked over to Estella an grabbed her shoulder. "E, what does that mean!?" Her voice was a little panicky. Estella could do nothing but grin harder, her eyes closed due to how big it was.

"Oh...I get the feeling you might already know, sugar tits <3" With that, she poked Caelia in the boob and waited, with the two noticing that her bust was gradually growing. Using her other hand, she reached around to Caelia's ass and squeezed it a little. "Can't forget back here either, damn~" Caelia gulped, pushing herself off of Estella. "Wh-whuh? What was IN that drink?" Estella laughed yet again, spinning around on her chair. She grabbed her own glass and took a big swig from it. "Just a little something to make stream more interesting~"

She cupped her own chest, teasingly bouncing it. "We needed some stakes in the competition, so I thought...whoever loses has to take a swig of THIS each time they do. It'll certainly keep chats attention, that's for sure! And since you got a head start, I figure I might as well even us out a bit~" Caelia grimaced. This was going to be a long night. Starring @Kachopper9 's Fluffy!Caelia~

[mcalhenwrites]

I thought I was trying. I write so much, I share so much of it for free alongside some of my art, but tons of it isn't shared publicly at all. I finally got a job, one that works well for my disabilities but not my pocketbook or transportation situation! I finally got medical coverage and used it to get an IUD put in, and after 6 rough weeks afterward, I'm not getting anemic! (Iron levels are still low, but not anemia-level bad.) I got on a medication that helps with fibro pain and it's been helpful, and it helps my sleep alongside the melatonin I'm taking so that I'm now resting about 6-7.5 hours average instead of getting about 3 per night. Though now I'm beating myself up for not using that time to work instead. Which is ridiculous, I am aware of that. I'd never tell someone else not to take care of themselves. I want people to take their days off and sleep properly and eat/drink what they need. I'd definitely stress that for anyone who has a lot of health issues to contend with. I've done so much and it's never good enough. Hard work means nothing, but working less guarantees I'll be fucked. I don't know how to proceed. I'm scared, I don't want to ask for help that I can't earn in some way (I can work! I promise I have lots of hard work available, like publishing a book and posting rewards for my patrons!) and hope that people who do tip me in any way are enjoying what I create at least. Otherwise I just feel like a shameful mooch. I'm sorry my life isn't better so I can post more joyful things. I haven't been reading like I want to. I haven't commissioned any art. I keep thinking once the car and laptop are out of the way, and maybe if I get that baking assistant job, and if my books would just sell, maybe... maybe maybe I can get back to enjoying life. But it's just gonna get worse, that's the only thing it ever does. 39 years and I still haven't learned that good things don't happen to people like me.

[lilithsterrarium]

piss desperation kinksters too... bottling up a silly little tiny like you in a mason jar, giving you food and drink, but not letting you out.... as they explore the wasteland taking breaks to jerk off to you squirming in your little bottle!!

every time you piss yourself they praise you and give you a nice drink... maybe some alcohol or juice! of course, they wouldnt wanna drain the bottle after all, you need *some* sort of punishment for making such a gross mess-- really, what yucky little girl pees her pants at the end of the world??

needing to pace yourself too.... if you pee when you dont look desperate enough, or give in when theyre not watching and dont get to jerk off to your humiliation, youre such a stupid little girl! whipping out their girlcock to piss in the jar, making you tread water in half of a single piss x3... i hope you dont get tired too soon silly!

of course, all of that applies to your shit too!! i bet your tummy would get rumbly after a little while, and you HAVE to eat after all... and the first time you shit your pants you get a little crumb of steak shes set aside for you! but i bet your smile fades when your pants are leaking shit from the legs, youve been made to mess yourself so much... i hope youre still hungry, bc of course you still need to eat the steak!

DHSHCHSJCHXJXD GGOD THIS ONE IS. REALLY GOOD ACTUALLY MMMPH

Theres something so humiliating about that treatment, ESPECIALLY if they tease me for it afterwards... its the end of the world, and you'd think I'd be unphased- but its so utterly humiliating, so pathetic, that even a wasteland surviving tiny like myself blushes and whines~

Hearing their voice muffled through the mason jar while they coo out little humiliating phrases... blushing as I fulfill their wishes, turning away as my face burns bright red... listening to them laugh and THOUROUGHLY enjoy they show before they reward me, watching how eagerly I lap up anything they give me... very weakly asking if they can clean out the jar sometime soon... 😵‍💫💞

[slaveofemma]

10 Years of Slavery - Ch.19

By that time, I was already preconditioned to get sexual arousal from Ellie's stories. Retrospectively looking it's quite understandable; as I wasn't getting any proper sexual relief, I was imagining myself in the position of the Ellie's partners. When listening, it wasn't someone else but myself who's having sex with Ellie. So I was getting less and less annoyed from the situation I was in. It was the way I'm destined to experience sex; from second-hand stories from the voice of the woman I loved dearly.

Even though I made a total peace with being cuckolded, the night she had with Dylan still annoyed me. The romantic side of the events was hard to ignore. So, the same night I called Ellie to talk about it. But, she reminded me that I had already agreed to call Dylan her "boyfriend" until the end of the summer break, so it's completely normal to have some romantic nights with him. I told her that I was OK with her having romantic time with his boyfriend, but what I was actually afraid was to see her distancing from our relationship. She ensured me that I will always be the most special relationship in her life. It was clear for both of us that no one would love her as much as I do to agree on being a slave and suffering day and night for her. So, not any boyfriends or romantic nightouts would be good enough to replace me. But I should always be aware of my status as a slave, which makes me that special in the first place. I had nothing to complain about. So I thanked her, and hung up the phone.

After a couple of uneventful days, Ellie told me that she'll be seeing Dylan that night. They were going to see a movie together, and some drinks afterwards. And she told me that she was hoping to sleep together but they couldn't find a place as both of their parents were at home. So she wasn't sure how the night will end, but she was pretty sure that she wasn't looking for an outdoor adventure like last time, and hoping to have proper sex in a proper bed. Then we proceed to picking her outfit for the day. She wanted to prepare a suprise for Dylan, so picked a very casual outfit - an oversized jeans with a black t-shirt. But underneath she had a very sexy lingerie; a red mesh bra that shows her gorgeous pink nipples, matched with a seductive thong. She told me that she wasn't giving him a preview this time, but if he'd manage to make her happy throughout the night he'll be rewarded greatly. I wished her a great night before hanging up.

The night wasn't easy for me. I was unable to think straight, only thing that I could focus on was my rock-hard dick. I tried everything to take my mind away. I tried to go to sleep as early as possible, but it's hard to fall asleep when you are horny as hell. After some googling I found out that ice helps, and grabbed a bowl of ice to stuck my balls in. A very painful way to calm your dick, but hey, it works.

But obviously I was rock-hard again in the morning. And trying to keep it hidden around the family is a tough job, especially in the summer where only thing I was wearing was shorts. I didn't want to break the rules again so I was trying hard to keep myself soft and focus on different things, but I decided to ask Ellie for a relief if she was in the mood. And I was hoping her to be in the mood as she was with Dylan last night.

Ellie called me around 1pm and I answered immediately:

"Hey sweetie, good afternoon!"

"Hi babe. You alright?"

"Not too bad. Yourself? How was your night?"

"Well, it was weird. It started well, we went to a movie and then had a burger. Then Dylan took me to a pub for some drinks. I decided to ask about what her sister told the last time, about the other girls. He was suprised that I brought up the topic but yeah, apparently he was seeing other girls. He told me that he didn't have a date with anyone since I returned, but he was also not thinking about being exclusive. Honestly I'm a bit disappointed as I was planning to spend the summer with him."

"Did you tell him that?"

"I did actually, yes. I told him that I was planning to be with him until the end of the holiday season."

"Sounds like he didn't agree?"

"Well he was polite enough to not be straightforward rude about it, but the message is simply that if he finds an opportunity, he would score. And I don't know how should I feel about that."

"There is no shoulds with feelings baby. Just tell me how do you feel."

"Jealous."

"Rightly so. But, you never supposed to be exclusive anyways. In a month you'll be back with me. Should Dylan feel jealous about it as well?"

"But it's not the same thing."

"Yeah I know, no need to rub it in my face." I said with a painful smile. "But you'll see other people when you're back. So, Dylan is just a summer fling for you anyways. And vice versa, you're his summer fling."

"Should I date with other people as well then?"

"If that's what you want."

"I don't know. It was supposed to be a chill summer, where we just hang out together, have casual sex and have fun. Now I don't want to go into all the shenanigans of dating."

"Let's think it from a different perspective. Assuming you'll see him 3 to 4 days per week. Which is quite good, right?"

"Yeh, maybe even too much haha" She said with a cheerful voice.

"Then, as long as you can see him that often, why do you care about what he does in the other days?"

"You have a point. But it still bothers me."

"You want him to be exclusive to you, which is totally normal. You're doing the same with me as well. Maybe you're just being possessive with your relationships."

"Didn't like the bad undertone but maybe you're right."

"Sorry babe, I didn't mean anything bad."

"I know. But I think it still requires a proper punishment."

"Sounds like you're just looking to let off some steam."

"And fortunately I have a slave. How's your no-jerking going?"

"Terrible. I was actually hoping to talk about it."

"What's that?"

"I don't want to disappoint you, but I feel like I can't continue. I can't think straight, or concentrate properly. It's unbearable. May I ask for a release at least once a week?"

"I was actually thinking about that too. But no."

"But why?"

"Two things. First, you're prioritizing yourself and it's unacceptable. I'm telling you about my problems and immediately after you're asking to masturbate. Disgusting. Did we solve my problem first?"

"No."

"True. And you also said that I'm possessive. I don't say that I'm not, but it's still unacceptable for a slave to talk about his owner like that. So that makes it two good reasons for you to suffer a bit more."

I stood silent on the other end of the line.

"Do you agree with me?"

"Yes."

"Good. You're a great slave. So, no pleasure for you."

I thanked her, and we hung up. I was glad that she didn't tell me about what they did with Dylan after the pub. ...

I admit I broke the rules that night once again. But funnily enough, I was looking at a picture of Ellie's beautiful feet while jerking off.

... Waking up with a feeling of guilt, I started looking for methods to distract myself from sexual thoughts that morning. I was hoping to find a way to overcome my urges and stick to the orders. When I shared this with Ellie, she told me that she's proud of me and I deserve a reward. Then, I received a very appealing picture of her naked body. It was taken from the standing mirror in her room. She was holding the phone right in front of her face, and her other hand was lightly touching her clit. Her smallish breasts were almost shining in the morning sun, and her nipples were the pinkest of the pinks. Everything in her body was so familiar to me, yet so distant. I replied her message with saying a simple "Thanks". She replied saying that she wants to see the results of my research by the evening.

The basic idea was staying away from the porn and distracting myself with some other stuff. Being in public spaces instead of my room would also help. So, I decided to hit the gym in the morning. And for the afternoons I was hoping to attend to a course, preferably for playing guitar. For the evenings, I was planning to pester all my old friends and see someone every day. And hoping to get exhausted for the night and just fall asleep.

Ellie was impressed how determined I am to keep myself distracted. I was really feeling proud of myself. With her approval, I started looking for actual gyms and courses nearby. But after a couple of hours, I got a call from Ellie:

"Hey babe, why don't you do something useful instead of a guitar lesson? Do you research on nail technician courses. If you prove yourself as a good nail artist you'd be very useful for me."

That was clearly a clever idea, from her perspective. And from my perspective, it was a total shame. I had to find a way to discourage her from the idea. So, I told her that it would be hugely awkward for a young man studying in college to attend to a nail technician course, and I could've been seen as a total pervert. But she didn't give up easily:

"You can come up with a story. Maybe you're opening up a nail salon with your friends and would like to learn the actual stuff before making such an investment?"

"And that would be even worse as it's obviously a cover story for a pervert trying to sneak in."

"Haha you're right. A man taking a nail technician course is definitely a pervert. Anyways I don't care. Do your research and find courses, and give them a call. Maybe they don't mind having a pervert?"

"But Ellie, wouldn't it be insulting for me in front of other people?"

"Is it more important than me?"

"No of course not, but it's against one of our ground rules, to not expose ourselves to other people."

"Don't be a drama queen! They don't know you, they don't know our relationship. It doesn't count as exposing. Just be a good slave and find a nail technician course. Didn't you promise me for that? You told me that you'll be focusing your energy on how to be a better slave and spoil me. So do it now."

"Ok."

"And?"

"And I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry for not focusing on you and prioritising myself."

"Now you're talking. Chop chop!" And she hung up the phone.

... I did my research, and thank god there were no nail technician courses that I can attend nearby. I found three courses actually, but two of them were starting in the autumn, so I wasn't able to attend. And I called the third one for getting information, and they informed me that it's women-only course. I was lucky. So lucky.

I prepared an email to Ellie to show that I did my research but no avail. I was trying to show her that I did whatever I can to find something, so that I might impress her and get rewarded with a release.

But, soon after I sent my email, I got a message saying that I should be looking for the courses in the autumn then. I could only say "will do!" with a heart emoji. And got a kiss emoji back.

... I started hitting the gym and I was pushing myself hard. I had my worst muscle pain the next day, which kept aching even the day after. But thankfully it was keeping my mind busy with the pain and I wasn't thinking about Ellie all the time. She went to a house party with her friends -including Dylan too obviously- and spent the night in there.

So, there were more than 10 people, which Ellie knew most of them but not all. There were two more couples except Ellie and Dylan, and they were at one of the couple's flat. Ellie laughed hard when telling me about how one of the single guys tried to flirt with a girl all throughout the night, and how everyone else encouraged them and in the end they went to the spare bedroom together. Then I listened how they spent the whole night like a couple with Dylan and ended up having sex on the couch. Then how they got caught naked in the morning when people woke up before them, and they covered themselves with a blanket while their friends were teasing them. And then how the lucky guy from the previous night had pulled the blanket and exposed Ellie, how Dylan snapped at him and how much she liked being defended by Dylan. I asked her didn't she got annoyed when that guy exposed her naked, but she told me that it was just a friendly banter and just for a couple seconds, and then she teased him by saying he owes Ellie a nude, which annoyed Dylan even more and in turn made Ellie even happier. Also to my suprise, they all made a plan to rent a holiday home with a pool the next weekend. They were planning to rent the place for 3 nights, and have proper party all together. So, when we had a chance to speak on the phone the next day, she was still cheerful. And I was lying there with sore muscles, and a pulsing cock.

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

Ideas? Many. Ideas suitable for this very public platform? Fewer. But mommy can find ways to spoil her good girl, I'm sure...

Hmmm nosy nosy girlie you are... I'll give you a hint, since you ask so prettily (makes mommy want to make you ask many many things...not necessarily work-related). My work involves a lot of paperwork, but the paperwork is not the main point of the work.

Yes, I agree. You are definitely made to be worshipped. Every single inch of you. Slowly and thoroughly. As you deserve.

Like to test the limits, do you? Sweetheart, if you want to be tortured a little bit you just have to ask, there's no need to act all defiant like a kitten that hisses and raises its fur trying to look scary (adorable).

Then best of luck on your last few hurdles, dear. If you want mommy's help in keeping that head nice and empty afterwards, you just have to ask!

I am sure your hands are very capable and can be useful in a wide variety of ways... And I am sure you can find ways to use them to earn yourself that massage back.

Your mommy

~🐞

ah, the limitations of a public platform. no fun!

i shall need to make a habit of asking prettily then, if that means you will give me anything i want :) but your response tells me everything and nothing. i suppose it's a particular job that would doxx you then ;) so you aren't inclined to share more.

it's been a while since i've been worshipped, to be quite honest. years :) it's a crime, honestly!

so condescending, mommy dearest :p especially considering torturing me would be a pleasure to you ;) don't you want it?

i might just ask. two more days! i am looking forward to it so much, the feeling of freedom. i might reward myself with a cocktail. too bad mommy won't be there to help me drink it ;)

oh, so i did fall out of your good graces? no matter, i will charm you again in no time, i'm sure :) i can be very charming and obedient when i want to (i just don't want to very often hehe)

take care, mommy dearest :*

[charscounterattack]

i am terrified of needles and have been my entire life! blood work places should let you lie down if you’re someone who faints or gets faint. also i would recommend listening to music or a podcast or something during the blood drawing. ive never had anyone take issue with me having headphones in during the blood draw, and it gives me something to focus on other than the needle that helps distract me. i find the like… counting down thing they sometimes do makes me more anxious because i tense up in anticipation and then the actual needle is more unpleasant. i generally just tell them im going to put my headphones in and look away and that i don’t need or want a warning in advance - obviously this might vary from person to person, i know some people could find it more anxiety inducing without a warning, but it helps me. mostly i would say just look away; i turn my head away as soon as they start preparing the needle. that might be kind of obvious, im just covering all the things i do! don’t try to stand up right away after you get the needle - focus on taking slow, deep breaths for a bit, graduate to sitting, deep breath, if that feels okay stand up (slowly!). if i stand up right afterwards my knees literally always give out lol, it takes a minute for the scary chemicals to exit my brain. this is long im sorry hopefully something in there is helpful, i basically just try to give myself other things to pull focus so that i don’t have time to think about what’s happening. even in the worst case, there’s no need to be embarrassed! i know it can feel awkward, i always hate it when i faint, but it’s an incredibly common fear that the people at the blood draw place will have dealt with countless times - getting dizzy/fainting/etc is a natural reaction to high stress that lots of people exhibit! just take care of yourself. get a treat afterwards or something also. i like to have a little juice drink in my bag as a reward for being so so brave

this is really nice thank you it means alot to me❤️️ i did not think of using headphones thats really smart i will do all of this thank you

[ellowynthenotking]

Feb 18

Dear Dad

Once again, we stumbled into a place right before they had a big party, so we got invited too! 

There’s some kind of massive thing that happened in the recent past that they’re celebrating. I think someone new is the mayor or something, so they’re celebrating it. There’s actually a huge deal placed on the mayor and how they’re changing everything and how everything and everyone needs to celebrate it and the changing times. 

I don’t know. 

I wasn’t too focused on any of that. I was more focused on having fun. Which I did! Much fun was had. 

We got to celebrate and dance the night away!

Well, most of us, Riley is mad at the guys again for some reason. So, she ended up sitting out most of the night. For the record, I did go over and tried to ask what was wrong, but she didn’t want to talk when I went over. 

So I was like, “Whatever, if it was really that important, she’d tell us, right?” 

And then I went out, danced, ate, and had fun!

I did help set up cause I saw people who needed help when I left the inn this morning, and I got food in exchange. So it wasn’t even like I ended up doing it for free. It was just a job. A job that needed doing, and because I was in the right place at the right time, I could help and get rewarded for it. 

I’ll probably go check out the library tomorrow. 

If I’ve learned anything from all the time that I’ve spent at feasts and festivals, it’s that the libraries are usually quiet right afterward cause everyone’s too drunk/hungover to go, so I can generally get a lot done, and if the librarians are hungover too, then I can do what I want where I want with pulling stuff out, as long as I make sure to put it back when I’m all done. It’s a pretty good system, really. 

For me, it is. Not for all the adults who are too busy getting drunk or partying to stop me the next day. 

When everyone’s not all hungover, there’s a whole lot to do about getting the right thing from the right place and putting it away before getting the next thing, so god forbid if you want to try to reference stuff between two books. You’ll get the house brought down on you if you try to do it with three or more! But not tomorrow!

I’ll have free range of the whole place, and then we’ll learn what we need and go. 

It’ll all be just fine and dandy.

The actual party itself was really cool. There was lots of dancing, and it was all very wild, but I still felt like there was a theme to the dancing. I think there was actually some kind of professional dance underneath it all. Willow and I danced with everyone. It was great seeing Will relax a little and just have fun. Usually, she’s too nervous about everything and everyone, but it was a really relaxed night. 

It’s pretty cool that we got to join it all, see everything, and eat food we didn’t have to pay for or worry about. Now, for the record, this isn’t the only thing going on. I know there’s stuff going on tomorrow too. 

So we’re going to help with that. I think it’s supposed to be more dancing, but I heard there was a lot more dancing in tomorrow’s stuff and less drinking, too, so it should be more fun. 

For me, at least. 

For the people who like drinking, probably less so. But boo to them, I’m going to have fun with the dancing.

Riley wants us to leave ASAP, though. She thinks it’s a bad idea for us to be here and that we need to move on. But it’s like, we don’t really want to. 

We want to enjoy the celebrations cause even though it’s cold, there’s still a lot going on that we should be able to enjoy. And don’t forget there’s a lot of food cause we’ve been practically starving. 

Not even practically, there’s been a couple of points where we were literally starving cause we didn’t buy enough food. At least the horses can actually eat stuff like the new growth and the grass under the snow, but we don’t have that option.

I was to take the chance to stuff myself while it was available and right in front of me. 

We’ll get going soon, but Riley doesn’t like that we’re not saying how high when she says jump. 

She went back to the room when the rest of us didn’t agree to go back early. 

I kind of get it. She’s probably still spooked cause of the donkey cultists, but there’s really not much that they’ll probably do. We’re safe enough at this whole event. We’ll leave soon, and if we leave with a crowd of people, we’ll probably be safer than if we leave on our own in the middle of things. 

It’ll be fine. 

Probably.

Okay, I’m pretty tired, I’ve been working on this letter for a while, and I have no idea when it is, but I’m pretty sure it’s after midnight. So, really, the best thing I can do is get some sleep.

I’ll write you tomorrow, and maybe then we’ll actually have a plan for going where we need to and where we might be able to stop along the way.

Love, Jack

Read the rest of the series here: 

Or read more by this author here: 

[ask-hannah-blog]

Hannah, I come to you with a rather unique situation.

My wife went out with her girl-friends for a new year's party, and when she came back, she was high as a kite, smelled like cheap booze and cigarettes, and was wearing an outfit I can only describe as "fetish-punk casual". She just looked at me with a bored sneer, said "hey." And went straight to bed.

Obviously I was confused and a little worried my wife might have been fooling around, so after taking a moment to gather myself I went into our bedroom to find her scrolling through her phone with a vibrator up her vagina. I was about to say something, and without even looking up from her phone she just told me "babe, whatever it is, I don't give a fuck. Just get naked and come fuck yer wife." All in that same bored monotone expression and voice. Still, I obliged. I gave it my all but she didn't even react. Just looked at her phone the whole time. I did every depraved thing I could think of to her short of shitting on her and the only time she looked away from her phone was to adjust the temperature of the AC. Still, she eventually rolled over to me and told me "not bad." Before kissing me goodnight.

The next day she was already up by the time I woke up. I thought that maybe whatever was up with her the other night would have gone away and this was all just some weird hangover, but as I walked into the living room to find her watching porn and flicking her bean with one hand and eating toast with the other, all with her new default expression, I had a sinking feeling that whatever this is was here to stay. Her outfit, while different from the one she wore last night, was still very much not what she would usually wear, especially on a Tuesday morning. I noticed something else odd. She was wearing these platform studded sandals meant to show off her feet, which were painted black. My wife would never do that, feet are more than an afterthought for her. Hell, I probably take better care of my own feet!

So, to test boundaries a bit and try to shake her out of her monotone hornyness, I went up to her and asked her for something she would have normally slapped me for even suggesting.

"Hey honey, ummm, I was wondering if you could... you know, give me a footjob before work?"

"Hm? Yeah, sure. Whatever."

She kicked off her sandals and waited for me to get my cock out, more focused on her porn and breakfast than me. Her footjob was anything but amateurish though, the way she worked her toes over my shaft was the stuff of gods! Or highly experienced hookers at least. She didn't clean up afterwards either, when I left for work, she was just rubbing my cum on her soles, just fiddling with her feet, and when I came back from work, the cumstains I found on the sandals she wore that day tells me she didn't clean up later either.

I'm not sure if this change is leaving me incredibly horny, or incredibly concerned. Still, I figured someone like you might have some advice for what we should do about this.

And in case you're wondering, I don't know her girl-friends. So I have no idea how they are.

That would soooooo not work for me. I need words of affirmation. That kind of disinterested behavior would be a big turn off for me. Even if she’s clearly been turned into a sex addict.

So reversing a punk transformation can be a little tricky, but rewarding if you decided.

So at the moment she’s stuck in the apathetic porn addict phase. So I’m guessing she hasn’t gotten much exposure to punk culture. But soon enough if she’s exposed to punk things she’ll start to be drawn to it.

Honestly, she’ll cum the first time she hears Sex Pistols. She’ll get really into the music, I see the fashion has already sunk in. Anarchism, drinking drug use, starting fights. You know, it can just get out of hand. I’m not saying she’s destined for it but her brain is programmed to soak them in.

Like me with feet 😔 I thought I could resist, and now look at me!

So that just a heads up if you both decide to keep her like this. Monitor her intake of certain content or she could really spiral out of control.

If you’re looking to reverse it, the key is to spark her passion for her old interests.

Watch her favorite movies, eat her favorite foods, have a romantic and sensual night that goes beyond foot jobs and shitting in her chest. Lol.

The more you can illicit those positive emotions the more her base attitude will resemble her old self.

It’s an exciting opportunity honestly.

I know we’re all perverts here, but I think it’s pretty hot to turn this sneering punk into wifey material once more! Just imagine how sweet it will be getting a smile out of her for the first time! 🥰

Now we just have to figure out how to keep the foot jobs… 🤔

[wellgreathereiam]

Address myself emotionally first. For me, that means looking for shame in myself. I tend to meet my expectations and if I'm ashamed of myself and my progress on a task, I will have low expectations for myself. Which I will meet. And the cycle would continue.

To get out of that I have to ask myself to admit to myself what is hard, what specifically is stopping me. Usually its something that other people don't struggle with and when others have noticed that and I've genuinely opened up about those struggles, they've responded with shaming me for having a hard time. I got a negative internal voice from that experience. I don't want to hear that voice, and, at times, that stops me from confronting what I am struggling with. So first I got to admit to myself what is hard about a task without shame. Take my own side, thank myself for doing the work.

Am I having trouble getting started? Activation is an issue for ADHDers. Okay I need to mise en place my materials and workspace before I start and have transition time between tasks, and damn it if it works, pick a treat to eat or drink once I've gotten started. Gotta clean up afterwards too, so I don't have to start from scratch next time I get started on this.

Am I hitting a wall after I get started? Sustained focus is an issue for ADHDers. Okay I need to junebug where I pair the task I'm having trouble with, with a task I can get done. I'll work for 2 minutes on what I'm struggling with and then break to the other task for 5 minutes and then take a real break for 5 minutes and repeat. My lengths of time don't have to be your lengths of time.

Am I just having a bad time? Reward system broke that's ADHD for you. Okay I need to lean into the gratitude to myself for working on this. I need to check if I'm taking good care of myself overall too. Am I sleeping, eating, getting out of the house, is where I live clean etc. There are people working the most mundane, thankless jobs, who legitimately love their life. They hate their job, and have a great time anyways, some shit really fucking sucks and they know what exactly to expect, have stopped trying to change what sucks, and chosen to do it anyways with acceptance. You've probably met these people before. I met a guy with pun after pun, dancing around, and poking fun at people at the state emissions testing station. His job fucking sucks. He's outside in the cold and hot, on his feet. It's extremely loud. The equipment doesn't work on the first try. Everyone bringing their car is has been waiting way longer than they want to be and they don't want to be there in the first place and he's there all day. He has to give people bad news when their car fails. And he's having a great time. Sometimes I got to choose my battles. Somethings aren't worth going through, but the things that are, I own that shit bc I chose it. Nobody can force me to do it. I'll do it over and over again until I can revel in how incredibly good I am at it, make it look easy, and tell anyone who asks how much it sucks.

so ADHD and Autistic folks

how do you force yourself to focus on stuff for long periods of time? Like.

What do i do I genuinely can't do anything like this atm

[lifewithoutmeds]

august 13, 2023

sunday, august 13, 9:34 a.m.

it's been a relatively good week, that is, significantly better than i'd been feeling for some months. i was very productive all week, definitely more productive than i'd been in the last several weeks, but also just probably as productive or more productive than i'd ever been. i worked through some lunches and usually stayed a bit after to wrap up things and make sure things were getting completed. i was very on top of it. wednesday at work i barely had a chance to breathe, much less take my two break/walks, but i did get a lunch break where i had my favorite indian curry/rice lunch.

so yhea, nothing particularly eventful monday - friday. just worked, and as soon as work would be done i'd go lay down and stare at my phone. friday after work i was pretty bored and in need of something different, so i met up with lorena at tony's and we went to pizzanista, had a big slice of delicious pepperoni pizza, then to tony's for a couple beers and some ping pong, which was pretty fun. then we went our separate ways, but it was nice seeing her, and definitely nice just getting out. it felt good to sort of reward myself for a week's worth of productivity and staying at home and not spending money, etc.

saturday i didn't too much. had some coffee, looked at a lease for like 30 minutes, then met up my mom at 1pm to go look at a few open houses, condos nearby, none of which were fantastic, then we went to Bravo Cafe and got some kebab lunch plates which were quite good. she seemed glad to see me and seemed like she was having a good time and was grateful that i'd gone to see the condos with her. i guess she feels like she is seen and treated a bit differently, like we look more like serious buyers together but she gets treated like she just kind of wandered off the street and popped in.

at 6 i met up with grace to walk the rose bowl for the first time in YEARS. it was really great to be back there, like old times, and just walking and talking and working up a sweat. afterward we went to a local home state in pasadena where she got a few tacos and some tequila, while i was nursing a stomachache so just stuck to tequila-based drinks and an arnold palmer. again, it was nice hanging out, and just sharing our updates on life and feelings, etc. i went home feeling very satisfied.

today i got up around 6:30/7 and finally got off my stupid phone and went for a 47 minute walk while listening to The Read and caught myself kinda smiling a few times during their commentary. i then came home and took a FULL SHOWER, including the washing of my hair which i had neglected for possibly an entire week. i did take a quick rinse maybe yesterday or the day before but i hadn't been washing my hair, so today was a bit of a big deal.

today i'm meeting up with amy after she's done with church, about noonish, and we're supposed to go walking at this somewhat shady nature walk near JPL that i'd been to a few times before. then possibly eating, although if we finish walking around 2, i don't know what that would make it. a very early dinner? a late lunch? the tail end of brunch? i guess it doesn't matter particularly, but i have to sort of time if i have any breakfast so i don't get another stomachache from eating too much too soon.

i'm genuinely surprised at how much better i'm feeling this week than i have in weeks prior. it's genuinely shocking. today, one week ago, i was in bed, unable to move, just staring at my phone, reading weird true-crime stories off of facebook, and taking a total of 300 steps or so the entire day. i've already walked over 5,000 steps today and will definitely be adding at least 5,000 more after my walk today with amy. i feel like cleaning and sorting out my living environment. i fried some fish a few days ago and it still faintly smells like fish and it would be nice to get rid of that smell. mental health is a bizarre thing. i was completely convinced that i might never ever feel better, that i'd just feel like dying until the day i died, but i'm feeling just these gentle stirrings of .... life almost? i still don't really want to do anything, still can't think of things i'd actually like to do or have any real hopes or dreams or aspirations, but i feel okay about living today, which is HUUUUGE.

anyway, must remember that i can feel this way. that this is possible. this is again, just such a departure from how i was feeling even just one week ago. i can't believe a change could be this dramatic in such a short period.

hoping i can ride this bout of hopefulness for some time.

[cqsuanla]

fury shakes the rafters

pairing: dark!nat/f!reader

summary:

Aside from the cannibalism, Nat is mostly the same. Still ridiculously strong and stupidly hardheaded. And that face — flinty, cold, mean. Nat’s always been mean. 

(inspired by jennifer’s body)

additional notes: mommy kink, dom/sub, bloodplay(?), dacryphilia, uhh pussy spanking, choking, unhealthy relationship, terrible aftercare

title from a song suggested by an anon: nobody by the crane wives

(ao3)

The light in the stairwell flickers, but it doesn’t make a difference, dim and dirty as it is. It buzzes distantly in your ears. You’re too focused on taking the steps two at a time to notice. You hold your groceries to your chest and fish your keys out of your pocket. If you were strong like Nat, you might just have knocked the door clean of its hinges with the force of your body. Instead, it crashes loudly into your wall, and you nearly fall on your face from the momentum. 

In a bid to gain purchase on your wall, you sweep your coat rack over, and you stumble over it. The clatter makes you wince — you hope she’s in a good mood. It’s hard for her to process stimuli when she’s weak. You scramble onto your hands and knees, shoving scattered boxes and cans into the grocery bag. 

Then, the rhythmic thud-thud of footsteps. You pause, exhaling as your eyes close. 

“Drink?” in a monotone. 

Yikes. You open your eyes, biting your lip. Steel-toed boots. You’ve told Nat a million times that this is a shoes-off apartment. She never listens, and you never argue more. Nat stays; she’s the only one who’ll stay. You can’t drive her away. 

Her right boot rises, scraping against the floor, and you flinch. It just kicks a cereal box away so it can nudge at the shopping bag. The way she says your name, evenly, firmly, has you blinking rapidly, has your hands automatically shooting to the bag, following her prompt. Thank god the bottles are fine. You don’t know what you’d do if they had shattered. 

You wiggle a beer out of the pack, and only then do you dare to make eye contact. 

“Hi,” you murmur. 

She gives you a brief glance, impassive, before snatching the bottle from your hand and returning to her spot on the armchair. “That fucking coat rack.” She flicks the cap off your side table, grungy and scratched up for this very reason. The cap bounces off the wall and disappears under the couch. “Just move it further in. You never listen.” 

You did, weeks ago. You don’t say so. 

The coat rack came with the place, and it was nice, so you refused to get rid of it. Nat hated it, hated that it was so close to the door in your already bite-sized entryway, but never enough to throw it out herself. But you did move it because her complaints were valid, and you wanted her to like being here with you, living here with you. Anyway, she stopped complaining afterwards. Not that you think she noticed — you supposed it was a minor inconvenience to her, the way a fly was, annoying when it was in your face but non-existent once it stopped bothering you. 

Quietly, you move your groceries to the kitchen island, putting everything but your new medical supplies away. There are dirty plates in the sink, which you’ll wash after you make yourself dinner. You wonder what she’s eaten – you’d just bought two new steaks, but Nat likes a bowl of strawberry ice cream now and then.

The TV channel switches in the background. Nat snorts, and you peek around the wall to catch a report on the gruesome series of murders that have been happening lately. People in the neighbourhood hardly went out anymore, too afraid of the dark now. It would scare you too if you weren’t well aware you’d never fall victim. Nat was with you, after all, and you were with her. 

You would be with her for as long as she’d let you. So, what if she was the monster in the dark? So what? It was Nat. Your Nat. She came back to you, talked to you, fucked you. It’s not like she was disembowelling you in some grimy alleyway. She kept most of the violence away from you because she cared. Anyway, like everyone else, she had to eat. You couldn’t fault her for that. 

You’re pulling the gauze out of its packaging when Nat scoffs loudly at the news. They must’ve insulted her because she clicks the TV shut, practically inhales half her bottle and flings the remote onto the couch. 

Then, she sets her sights on you, meek behind the counter, and raises an eyebrow. “Honey, the hall’s a mess. Clean it up.” 

You frown. “You’re still hurt.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll eat tomorrow, and it’ll be fine.” 

You don’t think so. The longer Nat doesn’t eat, the worse it gets. It’s how she’s in this mess in the first place. Nat’s ethereal after a feeding, next to omnipotent. But the guy she picked to eat last week turned out to be some sort of track star because he had booked it at the first sign of trouble, and she’d been forced to retreat when the sirens started blaring. The day after that, she picked a local thug as her next meal, and she’d been caught off guard by the switchblade. So, here she is: slumped on your couch and stitched up sloppily. 

Her hair is limp, skin wane and dry, and in a bad enough mood that you can basically feel it every time you’re within a two-meter radius of her. 

Her physical weakness emboldens you a little, makes you think you can get away with a bit of stubbornness. You pick up the gauze and tape and round the corner. A car speeds by, high beam making Nat’s eyes glint a deep green in the dark. The green follows you the whole way until she has to crane her head around to watch you slip her tank top off a shoulder. 

Those eyes weren’t like that before when you first started dating. You don’t mind the changes, though. Aside from the cannibalism, Nat is mostly the same. Still ridiculously strong and stupidly hardheaded. 

“You don’t want to listen?” she asks, almost conversationally. 

You know better. You clench and unclench your fist. Shakily, you lift it and tuck a hair behind Nat’s ear, hoping foolishly that it will placate her. 

“Baby,” says she, like a gentle mother to a misbehaving child, “you should really listen.” 

You trace the bumps of her stitches, staring hard at her shoulder so you won’t have to see that face — flinty, cold, mean. Nat’s always been mean. 

“At least answer me.” 

“No, Nat,” you mutter, undoing the bandages on her bicep. “I don’t want to listen.”

To her credit, she lets you fix her up. Methodically, silently, you clean her wounds and rewrap them in new bandages. She doesn’t get in the way unless it’s to take a swig of her drink. 

When you’re done with her arms and back, you move to her front. She’s got an ugly gash on her calf, bruised midway from where the man had kicked her bleeding leg. You imagine this is causing her the most pain, not just physically. Nat’s not great with sitting still. She’s independent to a fault, enjoying control to the point that it’s probably some sort of diagnosable complex, and this restriction on her mobility has her restless and irritated. 

Looking down at her, at the space between her knees, you wonder if she’ll cooperate with you. The last time you tried to clean her leg, she’d torn your duvet in half and has since refused to let you look at it. But Nat tilts her head, coy, and gestures toward the space in front of her with her bottle. 

“Scared?” she whispers.

You glance at her face just in time to catch her tongue tracing the jagged end of a canine. Mutely, you shake your head. She smiles wide.

“Liar.”

Of course. You’re always scared of her. For her, too. But you don’t think it matters; it doesn’t change anything. You just want to help her, be good for her. Anyway, she’s trying to get a reaction out of you. You refuse to take the bait, raising your eyebrows and wiggling the bandages in your hand.

“Fine.” With a roll of her eyes, she parts her legs. 

As if dealing with a feral animal, you move slowly, cautiously, afraid to make sudden movements lest she starts getting violent. You squat down and reach for the cuff of her sweatpants. 

“Ah, ah.” She slides the leg back, staring down her nose at you. You pause. “Kneel, baby.” 

Her eyes — did the ring of green get thinner? Your lips part, anticipation beginning to seep into your body, and you comply. Once you’re settled, looking up at her, she makes that same careless gesture with her bottle. A go-ahead. 

As you work, she shifts to put her beer on the table and then combs a hand into your hair. You tense, eyeing her nervously, but she only watches you, imperious, intense, and remains silent. Nevertheless, you pick up the pace, tossing the antiseptic aside and winding the gauze around her pale calf. 

She’s startlingly warm under your hands. Ever since… whatever happened to her — she wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details — she’s run hotter than ever. You can’t sleep under a blanket with her anymore unless you’re shirtless; the heat would be unbearable. Not that Nat has any complaints about that. 

“All done,” you murmur. 

The lack of reaction from Nat gives you the courage to lean forward and press a sweet kiss to the top of her knee. The hand in your hair rewards you with a gentle scratch, and you can’t help melting into a smile. She’s still got that air of arrogance about her when you look up at her, but she’s not glaring. Which is why it comes entirely as a surprise when she clenches a fistful of hair in her hand, yanking your head back, and slaps you clean across the face with her other hand. 

You take the full brunt of her palm with a cry, almost toppling over were it not for the grip on your hair. Your cheek burns, and so does your eyes. Mostly from pain, partly from the shock of it, maybe a little from shame when you realize you’re getting wet from the rough treatment. 

Nat tuts. “Crying already?” 

You imagine you look pretty pathetic on your knees for her, eyes glassy.

“Don’t give me those eyes, baby; you know I can’t help myself.” 

“I just wanted to help.” 

“I know,” Nat says gently, tipping your head back again so you can see the false sincerity on her face. “You can fix this, you know?” 

Your eyebrows furrow, thoughts racing a mile a minute to puzzle out what she means. 

“Don’t think so hard. You’ll hurt yourself. I’ll show you how, dumb baby,” she coos as she nudges your chin with the knuckle of her finger, and you can’t help flushing deeply at that. Then, she offers a hand, and you take it, and she tugs you up into a straddle on her lap. “Come here.” 

You instinctively wind your arms around her neck, clinging on. Beneath you, she tenses and lets out a low rumbling sound that resonates deep in her chest. You inhale sharply. 

Teeth. Sharpened to deadly points. Poised over your neck. Nat’s breath comes short and hot against your skin, and her tongue, when it peeks out, drags wetly across your skin. 

This has happened once before; the first night she’d come back changed. Like before, she noses at your flushed skin, teasing you with the possibility of damage, and trails her teeth down to your traps. Back then, she hadn’t bitten you. She won’t now, you think, you hope. 

She sighs again, hovering over the meat of your shoulder and prodding her teeth against you. Doesn’t break the skin. 

“Don’t make it worse for yourself. Are you scared?” 

This time, you nod. Nat’s lips curve into a smile, and her hold on your thighs tighten enough to bruise. 

“You should listen, sweetheart,” she says against you. The front of her teeth scrapes over you when she speaks, leaving red marks behind. “I hurt you less when you’re good. Don’t you know?”

“How can you be in the mood?” you wonder, burying your face into the crook of her neck. “You’re half dead.”

“Barely.”

It would take a lot more to kill Nat like this. Anyway, how could you be in the mood when your girlfriend’s cut up like this? 

Nat stands abruptly, ignorant to your yelps and complaints, and dumps you back onto the couch in quick succession. Before you can even register what’s happened, she’s yanked your bottoms down to your ankles and has climbed between your legs. 

Even after that, you don’t get the chance to speak. She wraps her hand around your throat and pins you to the cushions. You grab onto her wrist.

Her body bears down, and you break into a sweat, in small part due to nerves, some part because she’s shoving her hand up your shirt to grab roughly at your bra, but mostly because she’s near scalding. You’re convinced her blood runs at a constant boil now. You’ve grown to love the heat, though. With her, pleasure comes white-hot, and you’d want it no other way. 

“Nat-”

“No,” she growls, and you get an eyeful of her monstrous teeth. She flexes both hands, cutting off your airway and squeezing your breast painfully. You whimper, wound tight as a coil. “Listen to me, baby.”

You look at her through hazy eyes. 

“Those eyes again. God, I love you like this.” Foolishly, your heart clenches at those words. She rucks your shirt up and claws her nails down your front. Beads of blood bloom from the thin scratches she leaves behind. “You’re beautiful when I hurt you.”

Her hand nearly crushes your throat closed, but then she releases you, and you suck air in desperately. Your hands, shaken off her arm, reach for the sides of her head. “Nat,” you croak, tasting the salt from your tears on your lips. “Nat.”

She shakes her head, descending on your chest. It hurts – badly. “Be good for mommy.”

“Mommy,” you gasp out, arching into her mouth. She ignores your pert nipples, electing instead to lick and suck at the burn between your breasts. “Please, please.”

“Shut up,” she hisses. Oh, her teeth are still out. “Hands above your head.”

You obey, another sad sound crawling out of your abused throat. 

The dark pits of her eyes drink in the sight of you, face crumpled in pain and need. A thumb wipes up the last of your blood, and she delights in smearing it across your cheek. 

“Messy baby, clean up after yourself. It’s basic,” she chides, thumb still rubbing at your face as if she were fixing up some runny mascara. “Be good now.”

You don’t dare to speak, just nod and look pleadingly up at her. Your core aches from neglect. 

She makes quick work of that, reaching down to feel the slick between your thighs. Humming, she smirks and very deliberately rubs her middle finger over your clit. You jerk up into her, mouth falling open even as you strangle your moan. 

“I could do anything to you, and you’d still want me.” 

Again, you nod. 

“Where did my little liar go?” she baits. You shake your head. “Say ‘thank you, mommy, for letting me breathe.’”

It takes you a moment to gather the brain cells and say: “Thank you, mommy.”

Her smile widens, teeth back to normal. “Again, for the lesson.”

“Thank you, mommy.”

She brings her hand down on your cunt, full strength. You scream, jolting away from her. Well, you would have if she hadn’t pressed you down by the chest, entirely uncaring about the wound she’d left there. Tears leak out the sides of your eyes, trickling into your hairline. 

“Thank me for that too,” she demands.

“Thank you,” you cry around a hiccup. 

One more spank, and another, and another. Your legs kick uselessly against the cushions, body twisting after every awful smack.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Your hole clenches around nothing, slick leaking onto the couch. Then, two fingers dip into you, and Nat thrusts them up hard and fast. She’d shoved them in on a contraction, and it hurts for a second before she’s curling her fingers into the velvet of your walls. 

She makes a pleased sound. “Tight as always. Makes me want to tear you in half, baby.”

You stare up at the ceiling. “Th-” She starts up a fast pace, digging her fingertips into your front wall. “Thank you!”

Her cheek rests on your chest, listening to the thunder of your heart. “We should try that big one.” Impossibly, your heart rate quickens at the thought, and you manage to shake your head. She laughs, the sound sharp and cruel, and music to your ears. “Maybe another time then.”

She sits up then, still working her fingers into your cunt, and moves her other hand to your mons. She pets gently over your labia, a sharp contrast to the vicious pace she’s keeping up. Your head spins. 

“My baby,” she breathes, “good enough to fucking eat.”

But she parts your folds to press her fingers into your clit, circling them once, twice, thrice, and you’re so close. So desperately close. 

She leans down, near delicate in her movements, and licks into your mouth. You taste copper and beer and the faintest sweetness. Urgently, you try to kiss back. 

If she’s mean, she’d pull back and deny you the chance to come with her mouth on yours. 

She must think that you’ve suffered enough, though, because she rubs her thumb at your clit and drives her fingers deeper into you, and you push up as far as you can into her body with a scream. You’re swallowed in molten heat, pleasure stripping away at you until you’re just bones on the couch. 

When you come to, Nat’s pulling out some bandages for your chest. You’re too tired to do or say anything, forced into silence by her dominance. 

She smiles at you, still not kind, but it doesn’t look bestial like before. Maybe just self-satisfied. She strokes your sweaty hair as she fixes you up, shushing you if you moan quietly from aftershocks or pain. You are in a lot of pain, bruised and scratched up as you are.

“Good girl,” she says when she’s done. 

Finally, you muster the energy to grab her hand and say, “Thank you.”

She lets you hold on for a few seconds before pulling away. “Sure.”

You wish she’d hold you for a bit, but you don’t vocalize it. She’s been through too much in the last few days; you shouldn’t burden her—

“Don’t be fucking needy,” she says, suddenly and harshly. Your face must have given you away. 

“I don’t mean to be,” you mutter, bringing your arm up to cover your eyes. Feeling stupid, feeling mad that you feel stupid, you say: “It would just be nice if you’d stay for a bit.”

A hand grabs your arm, yanking it away from your head, and you’re treated to a view of her scowl. “Where would I go?”

You didn’t mean it that way, but you don’t know how to get out of this hole you’ve dug yourself. “I-I don’t know.”

Out of nowhere, her hand slaps your cunt again, overstimulated, sore, puffy. You groan, curling in on yourself and hugging your knees to your chest. 

“Fuck, Nat.”

She takes the opportunity to sit down on the end of the couch, where your legs once were. The TV turns back on, and you hear her take a sip from her can of beer. “Clean up the hall later.”

At least she stayed.

[nearlyrae]

Hi Rae!!! Your works are absolutely amazing!! I love them sm, they help me to sleep 😭💗

If you’re not busy, can I request a nearxreader where adult Near is yandere? 🤩

Anon… you have fueled the passionate flames of the need for a yandere and I love you for it. Also! Please be warned that this story contains unsettling content such as stalking, etc. Also it's ultra long because I didn't know how to pace myself so I had to cut it short ;;;

Near loved you.

You knew this well. It was the way he placed your favorite drink or treat on your desk every morning. It was the way he never failed to praise you on something even you thought was miniscule and deserving no comment. It was the way he brushed past you and lightly touched your hand, feeling your warmth against his icy hands. It was the way he would look at you, and when you caught him, his gaze lingered for longer than it should before he turned away.

He loved you in other ways as well. When leaving work, he held onto your shirt, pleading you to stay longer silently. Though those same pleading eyes watched you as you left through the cameras. You could feel them following you home, a strange care to know you were safe. Though, you often would hear things in the middle of the night, one night was especially startling. Your eyes opened and you saw the ghost of a long silver strand of hair.

You jolted up immediately.

Your room felt stiff, the air was static and it made you shiver. There was no other noise but the hum of your air conditioning. That night you could barely sleep, staring up at the wall and counting each crack in the ceiling. You didn’t feel relaxed.

The next day, Near was particularly nice to you.

He praised you relentlessly, gave you twice the amount of snacks and he even bought you flowers. His behavior was almost reminiscent of an apology. But you knew that was silly, he hadn’t done anything to you, it was unwarranted.

”Y/N,” he called you over, and you set your work down to meet him on the floor. “Let’s go to dinner.”

”I um,” you tried to rack your brain for anything else to do. “I’ve got—“

”I know you’re free. There’s no point in lying.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Why?”

Near brushed his hair out of his face, his eyes downcast.

”I’d like to treat you as a reward for all your hard work,” he said it monotonously, but you could hear the forced nature of it.

“I’m not finished with my work,” you massaged your temple, eyes tiredly gazing into the pile of work you set down.

“Don’t worry, I’ll excuse you for the day.” He didn’t let up, and was observing you from his peripheral intently.

Your shoulder tensed.

”I don’t know,” you said cautiously.

Near was silent for a moment, and you could see the gentle fall of his shoulders, letting out a small sigh. You didn’t understand what his adamant attitude amounted to… Regardless, you didn’t want to disappoint him, as your boss nor your friend.

“Okay,” you said.

You could almost see the smile from the back of his head.

Afterwards, Gevanni drove you both to a high-class Italian restaurant, an extremely popular and wildly expensive one. It was so out of the ordinary and quite out of character for Near, you almost believed he looked up the most popular dates.

“I did,” he replied matter-of-factly, knocking you out of your trance.

”Oh,” your cheeks reddened at the thought you voiced aloud. “Sorry, sorry.”

”Don’t apologize,” he murmured, taking a seat. You sat across from him, though upon doing that Near scooted closer to you. You cleared your throat, feeling underdressed and out of place in such a place.

”So, um, Near, you really didn’t have to take me to such an expensive place. I would’ve been fine with something simple.”

”It’s alright, I wanted to do something nice for you.”

He didn’t eat a single thing. The entire meal, you had gone through your food and all he did was sit and watch you, each bite you took wasn’t left unsupervised. It made you uncomfortable, having those watchful eyes observing your every move. After dinner, you were driven back to headquarters.

That night, you were plagued with the strange noises again. You refused to open your eyes, your heart frozen and petrified. Somehow you managed to convince yourself it was all in your head.

The next morning, Near confessed something you didn’t think he would.

”I love you.”

It was verbatim. You knew this already, you had said it to yourself in the mirror a long time ago when you first met him, and now he said it to you. You knew, and yet you didn’t really understand why he would say it to you. Surely he already was aware you knew.

”Near?” You stirred the milk in your coffee, not daring to look at his corner.

”If it pains you to know this, then I apologize.”

You knew he wasn’t sorry. Near just didn’t think like that. Every move he made was carefully calculated, none of them would make him need to apologize.

“It doesn’t pain me,” you set down your spoon and brought the cup to your lips. “But I want to know why you’re telling me this.”

”We’re together all the time,” he said softly. “It would only be fair to let you know how I feel about you.”

”We’re not together together.”

“Do you not want to be?”

He got you there.

The truth was you really liked him, his presence was most always comforting and you loved the careful ways he showed affection. His smile would light up your day, and honestly you couldn’t say you weren’t attracted to him physically either. At the same time however, some of the things he did felt off. The unrelenting stares, the way he knew your entire schedule, it all didn’t sit right with you. But somehow you didn’t mind it that much…

”It’s not that,” your hands came fidgeting at your sides. “I just don’t think I could be with my boss.”

His silence made you think he would take that answer and never bring it up again, but he slowly rose from his spot and walked over to you, and you finally saw the nervous expression on his face. His cheeks were tinted, and his lower lip was folded below his upper. He walked until you were a few inches from him, and you could smell the subtle hint of pine, a trademark to his smell. You almost thought he would kiss you, but he didn’t make such a bold move. No, he simply walked right past you.

You wished he did more.

The next night, you knew he was there. The scent of pine filled your nostrils, but you didn’t want him to know you were awake. You kept your eyes shut tightly. There was the sound of only your steady breaths and shuffling. Then, you felt a weight on your bed. Mistakenly, you let out a yelp in surprise. You couldn’t go back now.

You opened your eyes and saw him hovering over your bed, one foot frozen in place and wide eyes staring at you. You thought he wouldn’t hurt you since he never had before, but you were starting to really doubt that.

“Y/N,” he shut his eyes. “I can explain.”

”Explain,” you demanded.

”At first I would make sure you got home safely, but one day you left your door unlocked… I was afraid somebody would hurt you if they saw the door. So I stayed.”

You tilted your head at him. “So you stayed every night?”

”No… The nights after were because I like watching you sleep.”

This couldn’t be real.

”And what were you about to do just now?” You growled, pulling the covers tight to your chest.

”I wanted to lay next to you,” he said it painstakingly, knowing the extent of his wrongdoings. He was only remorseful once he was caught.

”Do you realize how messed up this is?”

He said nothing.

”Near, answer me.”

”You love me,” he said. “I’m not your boss here, so I thought it would be okay to lay with you.”

You blinked multiple times, trying to register what he had just said to you. Okay, so he did know your feelings for him. But was this okay? It made sense, you hated to admit he was right but you couldn’t bring up any argument. Besides, you’ve wanted him to kiss you since he told you he loved you, so what was wrong with this? He showed his love this way, and you couldn’t argue against it. After all, love is pure.

“I’ll leave—“

”No,” you bit your lip. “You can stay.”

Near bit back a smile, his cheeks tinted once more. He carefully crawled at your side, making sure not to touch you. Once he was laying, he pulled the sheets over himself, and stayed stiff as a board. You swallowed hard. Your face felt hot, and you were hyperaware of how close he was to you.

His breathing was light.

You turned, forcing yourself to fall asleep. The next morning, you groggily tore open your eyes, feeling how heavy your eye bags sat. You tried to move out of bed, but felt an arm around your waist.

Oh my God. Your boss was spooning you.

You carefully lifted his arm and slipped out of bed. After getting ready for work in the bathroom, you went back to your bedroom and your heart leapt in in your chest at his gaze. It was piercing.

”Who were you talking to?”

His question caught you so off guard, you only stared at him in return.

”On your phone. Who’s Natsu?”

You smiled a little bit, mainly because of how out of nowhere that was. Nevermind that he had gone through your phone. You didn’t think he would care about that sort of thing.

”He’s just an old college friend. Why, are you jealous?” You chuckled.

You met his eyes. They were wide, strangely seeping into your mind, suddenly making you feel your heart sink into your chest and twisting mercilessly. It wasn’t funny. What was wrong with him?

”Don’t talk to him anymore,” he twirled his long strand of hair.

”What?”

”I don’t understand why you need other friends. Don’t you love me? Am I not enough for you?”

You… Kinda figured he didn’t understand the concept of friendship. Or a romantic relationship. After all, he never really needed either.

"I have different friends for different things, it doesn't make our connection any less strong. Like..." You tapped your chin, trying to come up with something he could grasp. "I wouldn't be okay with Natsu crawling into bed with me."

"You said you loved him."

You winced. Did he really read every single message to him?

"That's platonic, Near," you felt a little annoyed you had to explain yourself like this. It felt like he didn't trust you from the get-go, which wasn't looking too good in the grand scheme of things.

"I just can't help but worry over you," his arm lifted to twirl the side strands of his hair. "You're precious to me."

You cleared your throat, shaking your head. "Near, if you really want to be with me, you're gonna have to trust me."

He didn't say a thing after that, and you headed off to work before him. The whole situation made your mind cloudy and all you wanted to do was drown yourself in your work. As you worked, you sang a soft song, feeling all your worries melting away. Near hadn't shown up yet, but in truth you didn't want to see him right now. His cluelessness popped up out of nowhere, and you needed a bit to see how you would approach it. Yes, you did want to be with Near, but maybe he wasn't ready yet.

With every single case he tackled, time drew shorter and shorter for Near, and each team member lost made time daunting. Every move he made was desperate, he didn't want to lose you and he didn't have the time to do things the right way. He did know how to properly court you. He just couldn't. Not with the danger his job posed. Not with the chance that while he was working, you might be snatched by another man. So that day, while his heart desperately pounded for you, he made an equally desperate decision.

The next week, a funeral was in place. The casket was empty, safe for a picture of Natsu with flowers and candles alongside it. You cried into Near's chest, trying to claw your heartbreak into him desperately. He didn't move from his spot, only gently caressing your hair and looking straight forward. Natsu's family gawked at the odd white haired man his college friend was crying into.

"Everything's going to be okay," Near whispered, planting a small kiss on your head.

"How can you say that?" You sobbed. "You didn't even know him."

Near grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back to look directly into your puffy tear ridden eyes.

"Things will be easier for you if you forget about him."

You broke down, falling to your knees with your hands covering your face. Near felt awful for making you cry, but what happened couldn't have been helped. It freed him from an obstacle keeping you away from him.

The way you mourned scared Near. You locked yourself in your room most days, barely ate anything and you rarely took a break from crying to stare at your phone, rereading your messages to him only to cry again. Calling Natsu to hear his voicemail was ingrained into your routine, and you would sometimes try to get a word in and act like you were having a conversation. The first few nights, Near didn't dare go into your room. He could hear your screams and the violent way you tried to cope. After a while, he finally went into your room and saw your sleeping face clearly, your cheeks still tearstained. He tucked an oily strand behind your ear. You hadn't showered in a while, but it hadn't grossed him out. Nothing you did could. All he wanted to do was help you. Mostly, he was scared of losing you. He did you a favor then, cleaning your room and leaving it spotless. He didn't stay that night.

Okay this is way longer than anticipated so I'm gonna have to cut it here... ;;; SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE IT THIS LONG I PROMISE... I also want to take a moment to say this isn't mean to be romanticized, nor sought after as a healthy relationship. Enjoy it as a messed up story, not as anything more :3