#used to go there weekly since I had therapy in the area but that's a while ago

[drawbudd]

me, at 1 am: man i sure am hungry

My brain: wanna look at the restaurant menu of ikea

Me: sure. why not i see no issue with this

[alizha]

ｈｏｌｉｄａｙ ｅｎｎｕｉ

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

⁀➷ 𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 | 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗎

Word Count: 4.8k

Tags: SFW, no use of gendered pronouns, references to and depictions of anxiety and depression, kissing

Summary: You and Reiner have a meet cute at therapy, and you're both feeling afloat during the holidays.

❖ masterlist ❖ read on ao3

The waiting room outside Dr. Keller’s office still bears the cheerful remnants of Christmas, even though the holiday had already come and gone. You’re sitting in your usual chair near the corner, puffy coat hugged tightly around you. Truth be told, the festive decor meant to liven up the room only adds to your listlessness.

There’s nothing wrong with the place as it usually is. The corners and empty spaces of the waiting room burst with vibrant greenery, strategically placed, you suspect, by Dr. Keller herself to maximize patient contentment. You’ve been with her for two years now, so you have a sense for that sort of thing.

A tall fiddle-leaf fig tree stands proudly in the corner closest to you, its glossy leaves catching the soft light filtering in from frosted windows. Now, it’s adorned with twinkling multicolored lights that throw alternating cool and warm shadows on the sage-painted walls. They blink unwaveringly and silently, regularly changing patterns every minute or so, and you can’t help but feel sorry that they’re being wasted on someone who can’t appreciate them.

You’ve been in a bit of a rut since November, something of which Dr. Keller was well aware, of course. She assured you she’d be available through the end of the year, and you’d taken her up on that, keeping up with your weekly visits. At the beginning of the month, she asked you how your Thanksgiving went.

“It was fine,” you’d said. “Quiet. Just me and Elvira.”

“Ah,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Your cat. Still not expanding your social circle, I see.”

You’d resented that. After all, Dr. Keller had told you to to start with things that feel comfortable. And Elvira is very comfortable. Cats didn’t judge, didn’t require any special considerations. They aren’t a challenge—not like people are. People are hard.

“We’re aiming for connections that talk back and don’t require kibble,” Dr. Keller had said flatly.

A big ask, but technically, you managed that the week before Christmas. You’d seen your next door neighbor, Mrs. Leary, when she was taking out her trash. She’d said Merry Christmas, and you said it back. Given the criteria set out for you, you’d say that counts.

You glance at the two doors at the far end of the waiting area leading to the therapists’ individual offices. Dr. Keller shared a space with another doctor, Dr. Madsen, whose names glinted on the brass plates adorning each door. You can practically already hear what Dr. Keller is going to say when you tell her about Mrs. Leary.

“It’s a start, but why not challenge yourself? Go beyond polite exchanges. Did you ask her how her holiday was?”

Sighing, you flit your gaze from the miniature pine tree twinkling at the edge of the low, rectangular coffee table topped with neatly arranged magazines, all holiday editions. Fixating on the strands of tinsel catching the light, each glimmer feels oddly louder than it should in the empty waiting room as you attempt to formulate an answer.

Your desperate clawing through the recesses of your mind for something more substantial than, “It just felt like too much,” is interrupted by the soft chime of the door. You glance up just in time to see him—tall, broad-shouldered, and blond. The man you’ve seen here at the office in passing many times before. One of Dr. Madsen’s patients, you’ve gathered in the time since you started noticing him.

Today, he’s dressed more casually than you’re used to, in a red flannel sherpa over a cream cable-knit sweater. In his arms, he’s juggling a navy backpack and several—maybe four or five—mini rose-gold foil gift bags. He looks even warmer and more approachable than in his usual business professional fare. It makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, a combination of envy and a familiar pang of fear, as he approaches the front desk with apparent ease.

“Morning, Lily,” he says pleasantly.

The secretary flashes him a dazzling smile. “Reiner! So good to see you. Did you have a nice holiday?”

You fidget with the hem of your coat. She didn’t make it sound so hard to ask. Maybe, you could do it, too. Maybe.

“It was fine,” the man—Reiner, you think to yourself—says, absently pushing the small potted succulent on Lily’s desk a smidge further away from the edge. “Quiet, just the way I like it. You?”

“Not quiet at all,” Lily says with a bell-like laugh. “Family chaos. You know how it is.”

“Lucky you,” he says with a faint smile. He adjusts the bags in his arms, pulling one carefully out of the pile by dainty ribbon handles and setting it on the secretary’s desk. “Just had to run into the office for a bit, and my coworker was handing these out. Take one off my hands?”

“Gladly!” Lily exclaims, her face lighting up all over again.

You can’t help but stare at the cheerful, gold-speckled tissue paper peering over the top of tiny curling ribbons. Until you realize Reiner has been glancing around the room, and his gaze has landed on you. Immediately, you look down at your lap, twisting your fingers together awkwardly.

“Still got decorations up, huh?” you hear Reiner say. “Festive.”

“Yeah, I keep meaning to take them down, but they’re so cheerful. Why the rush?”

There’s a shuffling of feet and paper, and you catch a glimpse of red out of the corner of your eye a few moments later. You tilt your head slowly and meet the man’s gaze again. He’s sidled past the coffee table and standing a couple steps away from you—a cautious, non-threatening distance.

“Hey,” he says with a disarming smile. “You… uh, want one of these?”

Your hands instinctively clasp over your knees, breath hitching. Plenty of other patients have tried striking up conversations with you in Dr. Keller’s waiting room before, but no one’s ever tried offering you anything. And it’s not really that you mind it’s just—

You’re no good with people. People are hard.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I don’t—,”

“They’re just leftover office gifts,” he says carefully, taking a small step closer and holding one out toward her, thumb and forefinger gingerly pinching the sheer pink handle. The gift bag looks dainty and small and oh so endearing in his hand. “One of my coworkers went a little overboard. They mean well, though. Chocolate, I think. Or maybe soap? I honestly didn’t look too closely.”

You shake your head quickly, shrinking slightly. “No, really, I couldn’t—,”

“Please,” he says, his voice softening. “You’d be doing me a favor. Everyone at the office shoved these on me because they said I looked ‘too gloomy’ this season. Guess they thought this would help, but I wouldn’t know what to do with all this.”

His eyes, warm honey hazel, look just genuine and pleading enough to make you hesitate.

“You seemed… gloomy?”

He laughs lightly, a soft rumble of self-awareness. “I guess so. Anyway, I don’t need all these. Someone would enjoy them. I’m Reiner, by the way. And you’re…?”

You murmur your name in reply, barely audible, but he repeats it warmly all the same.

“Well, maybe you could take just one bag? You don’t even have to keep it—you could re-gift it if you want,” Reiner says. “But if I go through the trouble of lugging them all the way home on the bus, they’ll just sit on my kitchen counter until I forget about them.”

His kindness (and perhaps, his admittedly attractive face) placates your nerves just enough for you to extend a tentative hand. He looks pleased, placing the handle of the back in your grip. Warm fingertips gaze across your palm, his touch light and fleeting before quickly disappearing entirely. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumble, your cheeks warming.

“No, thank you,” he says with a grin. “Saved me from carrying these around the rest of the day.”

He looks around for a moment before moving to settle into the plush taupe chair beside the fiddle-leaf fig. You try not to look at him again, staring instead at the rose gold bag in your lap, plus still racing as you wait. When Dr. Keller finally emerges from her door and calls your name, you duck into her office and burn under the inquisitive look she gives you and your glittery new acquisition.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You’re relieved when you don’t immediately regret leaving your apartment on New Year’s Eve to walk down to the main strip. The street is in full holiday swing, bursting with life and swirling with laughter and music.

Walking at a leisurely pace, you take in the string lights crisscrossing above you, glowing in warm yellows and icy whites. The storefronts are still dressed in their seasonal finery, frosty-edged windows sparkling with fake snow and wreaths and glimmering ornaments. And up and down the walkways, food vendors lined the curb, their carts sending up fragrant plumes of spice and cocoa.

The crisp winter air bites at your cheeks, and you pull the sides of your knitted hat a bit further down over your ears as you reach the plaza at the end of the strip. A towering Christmas tree stands at its center, huge ornaments glinting under the twinkling of a thousand multicolored lights. Beneath the tree, a stage is set up for a local band playing upbeat, jazzy renditions of holiday classics.

You weave through the throng of people gathered around, your breath puffing in soft white clouds. Some of them are dancing, others simply swaying to the music or beaming as they hold hands or clutch steaming cups in their gloved grasps. Everyone seems to be in the companionship of others, though. Not like you.

You hadn’t meant to come out tonight—not really. The thought of spending New Year’s Eve surrounded by so many people had seemed suffocating in the lead up. Yet, staying home had felt equally unbearable. You’d spent hours pacing your tiny apartment, torn between the guilt of declining your family’s invitations and the overwhelming anxiety of going.

So, you’d landed here, out among strangers. Their chatter blurs into a comforting hum in your ears. For once, it doesn’t feel like you have a hundred pairs of eyes on you, watching, judging. Everyone is too busy counting down the hours until midnight to notice you. It’s unbelievably freeing.

You pause by the edge of the plaza and stuff your hands deep into your pockets. As the band starts up Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, your gaze wanders back toward the large center tree, and you squint at a tall figure with short blond hair. That’s when you realize you recognize him from the therapist’s office—Reiner.

He’s leaning against the metal railing around the tree, hands shoved into the pockets of his long camel overcoat. His stance seems relaxed, but his expression is distant, eyes staring blankly into the pavement a few feet away as groups and couples walk past.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Maybe he’s waiting for someone. He doesn’t seem like the type to spend New Year’s alone, so handsome and charming. But he looks almost miserable standing there alone, you wish you could extend some sort of comfort while he waits, at least. Keep him company until his friend (girlfriend?) gets back.

The thought of approaching him paralyzes you with fear. You consider slipping away, pretending you haven’t seen him. Then, Dr. Keller’s voice echoes in your mind.

“We’ve been working on this bit by bit,” she’d said at your last appointment. “Maybe instead of thinking about it as a huge change, we break this down into smaller, achievable goals. Maybe you set a goal to initiate one meaningful conversation—with someone at work or even a cashier at a grocery store. The important thing is that you try.”

You swallow dryly, jaw clenching. You’d promised you would try. Progress wasn’t about perfection, even if you really want it to be with Reiner. But you were being presented with the perfect chance here.

You should take it.

Your legs feel like lead, but somehow, you forced them to move. Each step toward him is like a tiny battle. By the time you reach the railing, your palms are damp despite the cold. You clear your throat, voice coming out small.

“Hi, Reiner.”

He turns, life returning to his eyes when he stutters your name. “Hey,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“I, uhm…” you hesitate, the words catching in your throat, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either,” he says with a low chuckle. He glances around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Are you… alone?”

“Oh. Yeah.” The admittance tears through your gut like shrapnel.

“Me, too.”

“Oh.”

It comes out sounding surprised, which you don’t mean for it to. You wince inwardly as Reiner awkwardly lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck, the short of his blond rustling.

“Listen,” he says, shifting his weight and hesitantly meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Back at Dr. Madsen’s office. Well, I guess you go there for Dr. Keller. I didn’t mean to… uh, well, I guess I had seen you around and thought maybe it would be fine.”

You blink up at him, startled. “No, no, you’re not—,” you hurry to say, but then, you stop, unsure of how to continue.

You can feel the old, familiar instinct to retreat freeing up on you, the urge to politely escape the conversation before it gets too hard. You forcefully swallow down that urge and take a deep breath.

Baby steps.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you say. “I meant it’s not easy for me to talk to people, but you’re not, uhm… scary. Not like a stranger on the street or something.”

Reiner tilts his head, his plush lips quirking into a soft smile. “Glad to hear it,” he says. “I’m not sure I could handle being called scary tonight.”

His tone is light, joking, but there’s a quiet hint of genuine relief there. You can’t help but let out a soft, nervous laugh. He really was afraid he had come off badly in front of you, and the thought that even someone like him could feel that way relaxes you in a way.

“It was a bath bomb, by the way. The office gift,” you clarify when he looks at you inquisitively. “Not chocolate or soap.”

“Right,” he says, amused. “Good thing you checked instead of taking my word for it.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the silence between you surprisingly comfortable. You fidget with the zipper of your coat, searching for something to say. This is the part you normally dread—the moment when the conversation could slip away entirely because you can’t bring yourself to go beyond the pleasantries.

Inhaling deeply, you push out the words, letting them tumble out. “So, uhm… how’s your New Year’s Eve going?”

As soon as you ask, you regret it. Your stomach sinks when Reiner’s expression shifts. Just a slight flicker as his faint smile fades into something wistful before he plasters the cheerful mask back on.

“Well, it’s probably not going all that well if I’m wandering around alone,” he says, his dry tone all but revealing his self-deprecation. “Just came out for a walk, really, and ended up here. But then again, you did the same thing, right?”

You duck your head, cheeks heating. “Yeah,” you admit. “I was supposed to go to a big family thing. I just… I didn’t have it in me. Guess neither of us is really winning at the whole social thing tonight.”

Reiner makes a low, teasingly dismissive sound and shakes his head. “I’m not much of a party guy either. But hey, I wouldn’t count you out just yet.”

You cock your head at him questioningly, and his smile widens.

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

You’re shocked. Your jaw nearly drops. Friends? You and Reiner? “Does—does this make us friends?”

Sitting in the same therapists’ waiting room every week, seeing each other in passing once in a while there. You thought being friends required a bit more than that, but Reiner doesn’t seem to think so. Has it always been this easy, and you just stressed yourself out for no reason?

“Sure. Then, we can say we hung out with a friend for New Year’s Eve. I’d say that’s a win,” he says. “I would like to be friends. If that’s alright.”

You look up at him, a hopeful glimmer in your eye. The word—friends—bounces around in your head, thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But Dr. Keller’s been urging you to take steps toward real connection for months. This could be one of those steps.

“It’s better than alright,” you say, the corners of your mouth stretching into a smile. “Dr. Keller’s been insisting my cat doesn’t count as a friend for ages, so it’s amazing, actually.”

Reiner perks up, his brow lifting. “You have a cat?”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Her name’s Elvira.”

“I like cats,” he says. He leans in just slightly, but you get a full whiff of his scent, clean soap and the masculine fragrance of some variety of men’s shampoo.

“Well,” you say, warmth spreading in your chest as you study him curiously, “we’re friends, so you should meet her.”

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and excitement when he says, “Now?”

Your lips part, pulse thrumming fast. You didn’t plan on now, but you also don’t see why not. Reiner was, in your own words, not scary. Maybe this was a good idea and not one of those ideas that landed women on primetime news for entirely the wrong reasons.

“Now,” you affirm with a nod.

Reiner practically beams. “Lead the way.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

About twenty minutes later, you’ve made your way back up the strip and into your neighborhood with Reiner in tow.

“Dr. Keller said what I’ve been feeling lately is actually pretty common,” you’re explaining as you fumble with your keys.

The faint tremor of nerves is making the metal jangle softly in the otherwise quiet hallway. You’re hoping Mrs. Leary is asleep and doesn’t hear you and Reiner briefly loitering in the hall.

“She called it holiday ennui. You know, that weird, in-between time after Christmas but before New Year’s where everything feels off.”

“I get that,” Reiner says as you get the door unlocked and swing it open. “It’s like you’re supposed to be celebrating, but it feels more like you’re waiting for something to end. Or start. I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” you say, stepping inside and flicking on the light to reveal your cluttered living room. “Sorry, it’s a little messy in here.”

The idea of bringing someone into your space—a near stranger, no less—is something you’d never imagined yourself doing. Not even a week ago. But here you are, walking into your apartment with Reiner. Even the sleek black cat perched on the armrest of your couch looks confused.

“Don’t worry,” Reiner says with a reassuring smile. “My apartment looks like a tornado hit it most of the time.”

You set down your back and start toeing off your boots. “That’s Elvira, by the way.”

Reiner carefully slips off his own boots and overcoat, considerately placing them next to yours on the shoe mat and hanger. Moving slowly, as if not to startle the cat, he pads across the living room and kneels to get a better look. “She’s gorgeous.”

Elvira doesn’t move, her green eyes fixed on him with an imperious stare. You bite your lip and smile.

“She can be a little standoffish, but I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.”

Reiner nods. “Sounds like most cats I’ve met. They make you earn it.”

You settle into the far end of the couch and busy yourself with folding the blanket haphazardly thrown over it, your nervous energy bubbling up. “You’re, uh, welcome to sit. I’m sure Elvira won’t mind.”

He smiles gratefully and lifts himself up just enough before sinking into the other side of the couch. Elvira watches warily as Reiner sinks into the seat cushion, shifting her small paws as if deciding whether to hop down off the couch.

“It’s rough,” Reiner sighs thoughtfully, and you gather he’s picking up where your previous conversation left off. “That limbo during the holiday season. It’s been hitting me hard this year. Well, more than usual. I’m glad Dr. Madsen’s been available through the holidays.”

You fold your limbs cross-legged on the couch. “More than usual?”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “I was diagnosed with depression last year. Started seeing Dr. Madsen about it around the same time. He’s been helpful. I mean, it’s not like a magic fix or anything, but it’s something.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

Of course, you’d known he was showing up at the same therapists’ office as you for a while, so there must have been a reason. When you think about the times you felt envious of the ease with which he seemed to carry himself, your first instinct is to tell him you could hardly tell he was struggling with anything, but that isn’t always what people want to hear.

Obvious or not, Reiner was getting help. That’s what was important.

“You’re… really good at masking it,” you settle on saying.

“Yeah, well. Years of practice, I guess,” he says. “It’s not like I’m trying to hide it on purpose. Just… everyone deals with it differently, right?”

You nod slowly. “Right.”

Elvira takes that moment to leap down from her perch right onto the center couch cushion between you, landing with a soft thump. You watch with interest as she leans in to sniff at Reiner’s outstretched hand.

“Looks like she approves,” you murmur, a smile touching your lips.

Reiner chuckles, turning his palm face-up to scratch under Elvira’s chin. “Just gotta give ‘em their space, you know? Can’t force anything on them, let them come to their own conclusions.”

The cat settles herself regally on the cushion, neatly curling her tail around her paws, and glances up at you. Perhaps cats didn’t judge the same way people did, but they were still good judges of character. And if Elvira had taken to Reiner, you were inclined to believe inviting him over hadn’t been a mistake after all.

You glance at the time on your phone and realize midnight isn’t far off. “Should we maybe turn on the TV for the countdown or something?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” Reiner says without pausing from petting Elvira. “Can’t miss the ball drop, right?”

Leaning forward, you pluck the remote from the coffee table and click on the TV, flipping through a few channels before landing on a lively New Year’s Eve broadcast.

A glittering stage fills the screen, performers decked out in sequins that throw the spotlights shining down on them in a brilliant cacophony. After turning the volume up a bit, you set down the remote and absently reach over to brush Elvira’s fur. Your fingers caress warm, unfamiliar skin instead, and you realize with a jolt that you’ve touched Reiner’s hand.

With a sharp inhale, you jerk your hand away and snap your gaze to him. Both of you stammer out your apologies at the same time.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean—,”

“No, no, I’m sorry. She’s your cat—,”

You snap your mouth shut and look down at your socks, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks. His hand is so big and warm, your stomach flutters recalling the fleeting touch. Reiner clears his throat quietly, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Looks like we caught the last performance,” he says.

“Do you usually watch this kind of thing?” you ask, sneaking a glance at him.

“Not really,” he admits. “Usually, I don’t even bother staying up for midnight. But I’m glad I’m doing something different this year.”

He gives you a tentative smile that makes your heart skip a beat, testing the waters. Instead of resuming his petting of Elvira, he relaxes into the couch and stretches out his arm across the backrest, hand resting gently on the cushion.

You return the smile and let your hand drift toward Elvira to scratch behind her ears. The cat purrs softly, tilting her head.

“Me, too,” you say quietly.

As the countdown looms closer, the broadcast on the TV switches to shots of the massive crowd gathered in Times Square. You lean in a little closer, your stomach performing flips as you pretend to adjust your position to better reach Elvira. But really, it’s more about closing the gap between you and Reiner.

You sidle in bit by bit until you’re close enough for his forearm on the backrest to brush against the nape of your neck, and an unexpected shiver runs down your spine. This is a thrill that makes your heart race in a way wholly different from trying to ask for help at a store. This is the kind you’re somehow enjoying, the kind you want to chase.

Reiner seems to notice, his gaze flickering briefly to you before settling back on the screen. Unimpressed by the shrinking space on the couch, Elvira lifts herself up in a long stretch before leaping to the ground and padding away, leaving Reiner’s warmth, solid and steady beside you. He scoots an inch closer to you, tucking you into the crook of his arm, and your nerves ebb away.

You turn to look at him just as the crowd on TV begins changing, “Ten! Nine! Eight!” only to find he’s already looking back at you. The movement of his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip draws your eyes down, and you guiltily drag them back up, throat suddenly dry. The scant air between you feels charged with something you can’t quite name.

As the countdown continues, Reiner leans in even closer. You can see the patterns in the gold of his irises as he searches your face for some sign that he’s pushed you past your comfort zone. Unconsciously, you hold your breath, your heartbeat wild against your ribcage.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Out of the corner of your eye, the screen erupts into a colorfully dazzling display of fireworks and lights, and a mix of cheers and music fill your small living room. But you barely notice as you close the last bit of distance between you and Reiner and press your lips firmly against his.

He kisses you slow and hazy, with lips that taste like cinnamon cider. The pleased sigh he lets out against your mouth is only a faint whisper, as delicate as the tickle of his stubble against your chin. He brings his hand up to your face, warm fingers now cool against your burning skin as he skims his knuckles down your chin.

Auld Lang Syne plays out from the TV, muffled in your ear beneath the rushing of your pulse as your every nerve alights. Reiner doesn’t rush the kiss, languidly plucking at your lips with his, as if he might scare you away otherwise. His thumb strokes along your jaw, the gesture so gentle that fondness stabs you through the chest.

You reach up to tangle your fingers into the soft of his hair—dragging him closer, slanting your head to deepen the kiss. Encouraging him to be bolder. Reiner groans.

He slides the hand on your jaw around the back of your neck, and heat ricochets through your veins. You add fuel to the fire, wrapping your arms around him, startled by your own brashness. His tongue rolls against the seam of your lips, hot and wet, and your breath hitches, opening yourself to allow him to tenderly explore your taste.

Just as you’re starting to notice the lightheadedness creeping up on you, a dizziness resulting from equal parts excitement and lack of air, Reiner parts from your lips and ducks his head to trail warm, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your neck. When he reaches your jaw, his tongue flickers out to lave at your ear.

A tiny whimper falls from your lips, and you nestle yourself into the juncture of his neck, panting into his flushed skin. The scent of his shampoo invades your senses again, leaves you fuzzy and yearning. Reiner’s fingers skate down the length of your spine to wrap his hand around your waist.

Somewhere in the far flung corner of your mind, you vaguely register that persistent, gnawing uncertainty that screams at you to flee. But the more present part of you drowns that instinct. It compels you to melt into the comfort of Reiner’s arms, hoping that he’ll let you stay pressed against him for a little while longer, even as your tongue twists into knots. You’ve been very good at asking for what you need.

“Been wanting to do that for ages,” he sighs, sounding breathless.

“Happy New Year, Reiner,” you say softly into his ear.

His lips curve into a smile against your hair. “Happy New Year.”

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/25/2024

i played a game that is not genshin impact!

listening

paige kennedy's lingerie model. the line "cause i'm a little rat boy in the body of a lingerie model" startled a laugh out of me. off the discover weekly playlist.

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reading

thank you philip.

Johnny Guitar by Roy Chanslor, on interlibrary loan bc i was hoping reading the book would kickstart my long-planned fic based on the movie. surprise! wildly different book i read in one sitting! the locations, most of the characters (except most of them are much younger) and who's on what sides are essentially the same, but everything else is different!

there are five whole women in this thing, which is a staggering number for a western. i don't know that i have a clear idea of what this book is trying to say about Women in general or specific. i've just been kind of rolling it around in my head for a while. once i figure out what i want to say about this book everyone better watch out

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watching

borrowed my best friend's husband and their disney plus account to watch a lot of star wars. we certainly had a lot of thoughts about the show Ahsoka but none of them were particularly complimentary. it's dave filoni playing the fucking hits. would you like some wolves and some owls and people having bad feelings and recreating the training session on the millennium falcon from ANH? would you like some fairly lackluster lightsaber battles? would you like the least interesting concept of a waiting room/purgatory/underworld you've ever seen? this is a show where we meet Anakin again and TRAVEL TO A DIFFERENT FUCKING GALAXY, the BIRTHPLACE of some WITCHES. can we be a little bit excited about new things please??? please?????? we are so very bogged down in cutting back and forth, bc god forbid everyone be in the same place at the same time, that we get only the tiniest glimpses of fun new places. show me the places. stop giving me medium shots of people yapping. easily three quarters of this show is filmed from the waist up or closer. what fucking gives. if i really really wanted to scratch the itch of a worrisome legacy and lost love and slightly weird student/teacher dynamics i would go read a contemporary literary novel. show me the interesting parts of star wars and not just the fanservicey callback parts please thanks

we did have a lot of fun with The Acolyte, which genuinely does feel like a breath of fresh air. most of the dialogue is extremely bad, which is sort of par for the course for a star war, but the gleeful jumping with both feet into some real melodramatic weekly serial/space opera tropes!!! much more interested in playing with a heightened narrative/playing with narrative at all, unlike ahsoka which is more focused on filling in a little blank spot!!! witches here also!!! the GOOD TWIN and the EVIL TWIN, several inventive assassinations, the CLEARING of one's NAME, a cursed planet, some fights that feel like they're playing with samurai movies and westerns in a fun new way instead of reminding me of a better thing i could be watching. thank you im eating this with a spoon. many people are very mad about it bc the protagonist is black and perhaps not perfectly straight. the public says this star wars is bad, bc of woke and bc of cliffhangers. i think this one is fun actually so far!!!

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playing

Freshly Frosted (2022, Quantum Astrophysics Guild). free on Epic rn and quite honestly this should be a self-care/old people brain plasticity phone game. why it is NOT on mobile is beyond me. why it is on SWITCH is also beyond me.

it did make me miss a novelty doughnut and coffee mini local chain in the five college area that has long since gone under. one of my therapists used to have an office above one of their stores and i used to go to a class at smith on wednesdays, go to therapy, and then jog for the half hour bus back to umass, reward doughnut in hand.

it opens with a soft-voiced woman telling you about how she likes to decompress by laying in a field and imagining a donut factory in the sky. she gives encouraging little tips and "hey! be nice to yourself!" throughout the game, but mostly at the beginnings of levels and introducing new mechanics. there are, perhaps, overly plentiful achievements.

there are a dozen dozen levels and i played through the first three dozen, or the first three boxes (normie don't draw over your line, multi track drifting, merging paths). i once had a level correct and then hit undo out of indecision and the tutorial lady told me "“You had it, click the undo button in the top right to undo”. which i don't believe i've ever seen in a game.

i stopped at the third box bc there’s a universal order to ingredients (always frosting then sprinkles then whipped cream then etc) but it does not ever tutorialize that it will only put the next ingredient on if the previous ones are fulfilled. like this was the level i figured this out on.

on further levels in this box i was not thinking super hard about what the actual order was and i couldn't really tell you how i solved a particular level except for making sure every possible path existed. maybe this gets super wild in later levels idk but three dozen levels was enough of a novelty for me. if i may be a little mean to a perfectly fine game, it feels like a coding bootcamp project in the way it steps through its logic and introduces new mechanics.

-

making

cross stitch update. i don't believe this will be done by my brother's birthday

[nekhcore]

I've been seeing the term diy hrt around, I've never heard of it before but I assume the name is self explanatory. Is it like where you make your own T or what? Is it cheaper than going through therapy and getting a diagnosis and prescription? Or is it something else entirely?If you have any resources on what it is exactly/how to safely start diy hrt could you answer with a short explanation or some links(preferebly within tumbler posts, I can't look anything up on this topic, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered you with this question).

Again sorry to bother you, hope you have a nice day.

Sincerely, a trans guy in serious need of HRT

Long answer, sorry…

DIY HRT is just a catch-all term for “not under supervision/guidance of a doctor”. The most well-known example of this is grey market estrogen bought online, but it can really look like anything. Using leftover patches of your friend, getting spare vials from a guy with a stockpile, buying HRT online… etc. Resources for trans guys who want to DIY are a bit harder to find because T has actual legal repercussions in most places.

In my case, I’m mostly taking the piss because a lot of people seem to think that if you take hormones without a doctor who has no fucking clue what they’re doing to shrug at you, you’ll fucking explode and die.

I’m a dual-citizen. In the States I have a prescription through Planned Parenthood, but where I actually live trans care is abysmal. We have a local group of transmascs who used to stock up abroad then distribute/sell T to the others who didn’t have a prescription. Nowadays though the T shortage in Europe isn’t as bad and our country isn’t as serious about restricting T, so I found a way to buy mine without a prescription.

Getting bloodwork privately and checking your own levels is pretty easy once you know what to ask for and know how to read your results. Big news: the labs don’t actually give a shit what the results say, they’re just going to give it to you. If a “woman” shows up and gets hormones tested and has male range T levels they’re not going to do jack shit about it because their job is just to test it and tell you. I’ve been doing my own bloodwork and adjusting my own dose based on my levels and how I feel for the last 2 years and I haven’t died horribly yet.

It’s not cheaper, unfortunately, because it’s all out of pocket. Insurance coverage would be really nice but I don’t want to risk having a transphobic doctor tell me what to do. (I wouldn’t listen)

The least blatantly illegal way I can think of DIYing is having a friend whose vials are prescribed single-use and sharing it. That way he’s not losing out, and you get to partake too. Where I live they sell ampoules, not vials, so you have to break them open to use them. Me and my best friend get together for shots sometimes to waste less by drawing up from the same ampoule, since we have to throw out whatever is left anyways. Nothing inherently dangerous about it as long as you’re all using sterile needles and syringes.

I have also seen cases where guys who suddenly switch to a different form of T (gel to injections or vice versa) and have some left over will give away their remainder to someone local.

If you’re in the States, I highly recommend trying Planned Parenthood or an informed consent clinic. I did my initial appointment over telehealth, signed some forms digitally, and had my prescription sent to the pharmacy of my choice the same day. It costed me like $170 without insurance. The prices vary regionally but you can try to ask for a price estimate if they offer gender services in your area.

If you lived in my city I would tell you to meet up with me in real and I’ll show you the pharmacy chain I go to and buy for you until you pass well enough to buy it yourself. Штета.

Dosing is easy. If you’re on cypionate or enthanate, those are weekly doses. You can start at 20-40mg a week and raise your dose little by little each week until you’re at a place you’re comfortable with or until you get the dose that works best for your body. It’s better to dose a little low than too high.

As for doing bloodwork? If private labs are easily accessible, ask for the following things: testosterone, estrogen (I do E2 estradiol), cholesterol, and hematocrit. Personally I get hormones, cholesterol, and a general blood test packet because it covers the rest. Make sure your hormones levels are in male range—look them up online if your results only show female ranges—and make sure your hematocrit and cholesterol aren’t getting too high either. Better to have slightly lower T levels and be healthy everywhere else than high T but also bad health elsewhere.

If money is an issue I get it. It’s not great for me either lol. I’ve had to delay my bloodwork for weeks because we get paid monthly and I didn’t have the $50 to spare for it, and I only just got a job that offers me any financial stability. Do what you can.

I’m sorry that I can’t give you resources on where exactly to acquire testosterone (and posting about them publicly risks getting them shut down, even if I did know) but I can advise you on how to care for yourself once you’ve gotten your hands on it.

[cathairdeal3r]

i promise you you are making getting on t out to be much more difficult than it is. it took me thirty minutes to set up my first appointment, and that appointment went pretty much like "i'd like to get on testosterone" "okay cool here is your script". of course this will be area-dependent but i live in a red US state with a lot of anti-trans legislation & it was still THAT easy. it's understandable to fear a complicated process but i promise you it is not as difficult as you're thinking it will be & worth the trouble 1000x over

thanks for your note but its not as easy in my nation. in order to get on testosterone here, i first need a therapists note that i actually am trans. many therapists (those that are paid for by insurance) dont give out that note until you've been in weekly therapy for like 6 months, and there are some private therapists where you can get one in a single session for 150€ (~160$). not to mention theres often waitlists of ≥6 months, if you even get on a waitlist at all. after that, you have to go to an endocrinologist (with wait times up to 6 months even for one appointment) and they have to do a hormone check first before you can get on testo. all in all even if all goes well and you go

I'm not saying i dont want to go on testo, ive been relentlessly chasing that goal since coming out three years ago.

sadly, worldwide, accessibility varies highly.

in my country you weren't even able to change your gender marker without having to "prove" it to the state and several different people, which you had to pay a shitload of money just to undergo a transphobic examination to "actually validate your transness". we are so far behind in terms of trans rights it is embarrassing.

~ stay healthy~

[omsdoortodoor]

OMS Door to Door Challenge - departure date minus 5 weeks

Ian's fortnight

“Riding a bike is everything to a cyclist. The friendship and camaraderie you have with other cyclists…to a cyclist, it was the be-all and end-all of your life” Tommy Goodwin.

The third weekend in July saw a group of thirteen of us descend on New Alresford in the watercress area of Hampshire for a boys cycling weekend. This, apart from the covid year has turned into an annual event visiting a different town each year. It all started with my Stag weekend in Shrewsbury, eight years ago and we have since visited Cirencester, Marlborough, Salisbury, Ludlow  and now Alresford

I say cycling weekend but you could also call it a pub crawl or wine fest and not all of us cycle!  When we arrived six of us went out on the bikes for a ride of about twelve miles, after about three Andrew, Steve and I stopped at the first pub we came to.  We’d had an awful journey up the A303 and were in desperate need!

On the Saturday we headed off to Bishops Waltham where we had a coffee and cake stop before heading up the Meon Valley to the Ye Olde George Inn at East Meon for lunch. We then returned to Alresford cycling through some lovely countryside passing several watercress beds on the way. That evening we visited the local Italian restaurant before a last glass or two of wine at the hotel. A big thank you to all who attended, and I hope to continue the tradition next year. 

As a footnote, I was stood in the bar at The Swan Inn where we were staying when I heard, “That's Ian!”, only to turn round to be greeted by my nephew James and his partner Amy. I shouldn’t have been too surprised as they do live a stone’s throw away, and it was great to see them.

Jane's fortnight

For those who read my last blog, the answer to the question is:  Yes, I have done my foot exercises every day since my conversation with Sarah.

I now feel like the start of the Door to Door Cycle Challenge is within reach, I can feel it, I can almost touch it.  And with that comes the need to step up the final organisation.  On that front, there are lots of bits and bobs that need to be done.  And to be honest it was beginning to stress me, because I knew there were lots of little bits, but no list, no responsibility and worst of all no SPREADSHEET!

I kind of felt like this:

So last Wednesday, Ian and I reverted to our original Door To Door planning meeting.  And I feel much better organised for doing that, and for having a fresh spreadsheet.  All tasks are on a list, with whose responsibility it is and which week it will be completed in.  So, this week I have:

Had the iPad screen fixed that I (read Tarka) broke when we were away.  I will be using that a lot for uploading video on the challenge.

I have also checked to make sure I know all the details of my personal google account (rather that my old business one), so that I can upload to YouTube and other similar things without any hitch when we are one the road.  Boring by necessary.

Typed out a list with the kilometres per hour converted to miles per hour. (Because you just can’t read the km’s on the dashboard of the motorhome).  Also boring but safe and also probably necessary.

Next week I need to finalise the first aid kit and write an article for our Parish Magazine about the challenge.  I also need to give some thought to creating some themes for blogs and posts when we are on the Door to Door Challenge, as well as finalise the start and finish arrangements for the challenge.

The other “biggy” of course is my physical preparation.  Pilates and strength training continue to go well, and I am comfortable that I am on track (Thank you Sarah Grey).  But since the last post, I have started what I think is the final thing that I can do to prepare myself…Oxygen Therapy.  I know I mentioned it earlier, but the idea is that I get 20 sessions as close together as possible to get my body to the best level it can be.  Then it gets maintained by weekly/fortnightly/monthly sessions depending on what works best for me.  The initial part is a huge commitment of my time, because I am saying goodbye to 3 hours including the travel to Exeter on a near daily basis and sit in a chamber looking like a fighter pilot, but sounding like this, for an hour. 

So, as of today I have had 12 of my 20 sessions.  Am I feeling a difference?  YES.  It hit me yesterday that I felt WELL.  And I realised that I could not remember the last time I had felt like that.  Not for, literally years.  Now, as my friend Carol advised, I will ensure that I don’t get carried away and undo all the good I have done.  So, the focus for the last few weeks is PACE, PACE, PACE.

Respect

I can’t complete this blog without mentioning the truly inspirational Laviai Nielsen, who won a bronze medal as part of the British Quartet in the mixed 4x400 meters.  Apparently, she was diagnosed with MS just two days before she flew to the last Olympics in Tokyo.  Although physically we are totally different, I can imagine what might have been going on for her mentally and emotionally and I completely understand why she refused to accept her diagnosis as she competed at Tokyo.  But on returning from Tokyo, she was forced to adapt her lifestyle and tailor her training to avoid future MS-related flare-ups.  And she has mastered her lifestyle adaptations so well that she has gone on to win a bronze medal.  Total respect to her and to her sister, also an Olympian with MS.

But here is the lesson for me.  Obviously, I am not going to go out and start running – it’s just not my thing.  But whatever physical adversity I face, I think living a good live depends on finding and implementing the right lifestyle adaptations for me.

And right now, I think I am doing well on that score - getting balance – being as well as I can but also having some fun times too.

Announcement

And the final note about fun, is that we are delighted to say that our final fundraiser is definitely going ahead as planned.  For a time we were a bit unsure. So, for anyone who lives close to us, we will be holding a ‘Pop-Inn’ on the 6th September with The Big Chipper in attendance.  If you’re local and need more details, just DM me.

As always, Ian and I are truly humbled by the amount of support we have received both in terms of encouragement and the money we have raised for Overcoming MS.  If you would like to see Ian’s training route or help people with MS to lead a fulfilling life, our links to Strava and Just Giving are here.

Thank you so much

Jane and Ian

[di-kot-o-me]

YOUR WEEKLY INSPIRING AND BARNBURNING STUMP SPEECH FROM McSWEENEY’S INTERNET TENDENCY...... AS PRESIDENT, I WILL CHAMPION GEN X RIGHTS

by MARCO KAYE

Wassup, fellow slackers, poseurs, losers, stoners, and the dorks smart enough to make loot before the dot-com crash.

I said yo, wassup! Not clapping? Good. Thought so.“A key barometer of the literary climate.” —The New York Times

I get that it’s totally wack, but this year, I’m running for president of the USA, because I want to represent you, the voiceless and forgotten, my fellow Gen Xers.

That’s right, my entire platform revolves around Gen X values, like fixing everything that sucks about this country—which is a lot. Our time is now. The boomers had their chance and blew it. Do we expect millennials to fix anything? Not when they’re busy crying in the office bathroom they won’t. And Gen Z? Sure. Get lost and TikTok a new aesthetic or whatever.

With my Gen X cabinet full of bitchin’ advisors, we’re gonna do what we do best: point out society’s flaws, work hard to work less, fire up the glorified blog, a.k.a. Substack, roll up our sleeves for another tattoo, and tell our grown-ass children to make their own goddamned mac and cheese.

Look, I am Gen X to the core. My parents divorced the day I was born. I lived in malls, surviving off Orange Julius samples and Chia Pet grass. Right after the Challenger explosion, I smoked my first cigarette. I was such a latchkey kid that I opened doors for other latchkey children. We raised ourselves without a cell phone or parent in sight, and turned out just fine, in no need of therapy today. I started a band before bands existed—we could have signed to Electra but didn’t want to sell out. In college, I translated the Cocteau Twins into English. At work, I stuck it to the Man by showing up and complaining. To this day, I never take off my chain wallet, not even in the shower.Winner of the John Newbery Medal. "Here is a book that is truly for all ages, as only the best stories are." —Isaac Fitzgerald, The Today Show (author's pick)

On the campaign trail, I did something I don’t typically do: I listened. I toured important Gen X enclaves, such as Austin, Bennington, Palm Springs, Montclair, and both Portlands. I took your shit talk into account, and present this plan:

Reclaim X.com for us. Just because Elon is an Xer doesn’t mean our culture is his costume. X will go back to what it was: Imgur links, confusion about how the site works, and posts about what we’re eating.

Put a stop to new slang, for we invented slang, and ours was hardcore, while words like rizz, sus, and no cap need to chill out.

Build a healthcare system focused specifically on Gen X pain points, like the lower back area, special carpal tunnel treatment centers, and, at long last, a cure for that eeeeeeeeeee we hear 24-7.

Engender world peace by using the powerful motto we coined, “Silence the Violence.”

Never forget, Gen X, we are the party of Kennedy. MTV’s Kennedy. Who I’m proud to announce as my VP. Kennedy’s first task: reclaim the word “rock star” from the hands of the corporation. Kennedy will also serve as cultural ambassador. We will play more post-punk in public spaces like airports and drugstores. We will pioneer a bold new way to microdose cocaine. Last but not least, we will order Max and other streaming services to broadcast softcore porn late at night once again!

The challenges are many. But if we want to truly slack into retirement, we need to fix the system, even though we hate the system. Like you, I will be lazy and full of self-loathing. But I will be your voice, raspy since my parliament will smoke Parliaments. It’s time we rise. Even the eldest millennial had it so much easier than any single one of us. Together, we are badass.

Thank you, and may our Goddess Winona Ryder bless the US of Fuckin’ A.

[shimmerjjang]

HIFU V-Lift Treatment Review at Glam & Fab Aesthetic Center SJDM Bulacan Branch

Last February 9, I traveled outside the metro to visit Glam & Fab's newest branch at San Jose Del Monte Bulacan! If you're from the North, then this should be accessible for you.

📍Unit 1B JDB Blg. II 368 Carriedo St., Brgy. Muzon Proper San Jose Del Monte, Bulacan

I usually get my treatments at their Sumulong Branch so if you're near Antipolo, Marikina, Cainta, then I'd most likely see you there!

The opening of the new branch in SJDM was jampacked! I was with Jeneena of @aneentries and even ran into Ana Victorino, whom I've known since the baby days of the Philippine beauty blogging scene! It was pure nostalgia as we talked about how different it was back then haha~

There were so many clients that day so I decided to get something that's quick and something I haven't really tried before. I went for a HIFU V-Lift Treatment.

What is HIFU V-Lift Treatment?

HIFU is a non-invasive type of treatment that uses high intensity ultrasound to tighten, firm, and smooth the skin. HIFU uses thermal energy to have the skin produce collagen and elastin.

It offers quick results and you can even see slight changes right after the treatment. But more visible results can be seen in a week or two. I also maintain it by getting RF treatments on my V-Line area every week or every 2 weeks.

This photo on the left was taken last January 30, 2024. I was about to go on a video conference call for work when I noticed this annoying double-chin peeking out even if my face was resting! It was a moment of realization tbh haha! I had to look at myself for a hot minute just to see if what I'm seeing was real.

The photo on the right was taken last February 26 after my recent visit at Glam and Fab. I had cold RF Treatment that time, which is a good treatment to pair with HIFU to boost results. So it's been 17 days since my HIFU Treatment last February 9. HIFU is quite an intense procedure so I was told that this is something you should get in around 3-month intervals.

How's the procedure like?

It was quick. Only took me 15 to 20 minutes (excluding basic facial cleansing). The aesthetician will run the device on the target area and you will feel a strong snapping sensation. It was my first time so the intensity wasn't set on high. I was told it was between low to medium.

I have high tolerance to pain because I'm used to these treatments so I'd say the snapping pain I felt during the procedure was no more than 3 out of 10. But I guess for those who have lower pain tolerance, you'll feel the pain somehow (nothing intolerable though). Tiis ganda lang talaga.

Maintenance & Aftercare

There's no downtime after undergoing HIFU V-Lift treatment so you can go to your usual routine as usual. There were just a few reminders:

Don't put too much pressure on the treated area for 2~3 days. I temporarily stopped using my Gua Sha and LED Therapy Device.

Don't wash the area for 8 hours.

As for maintenance, it's actually optional. It's really up to you if you'd like to speed up seeing results. That is going for RF Treatment every week. You can only do HIFU once in every 3 months. I highly suggest going for a weekly RF treatment because it really helps, especially if you have skin-aging concerns (I'm 33, so I pay more attention to my skin now more than ever lol). It's only 349pesos per session at Glam and Fab so it won't break the bank for sure!

HIFU V-Lift costs 4,999/session as per writing. To see the prices of other procedures, check the photo below:

I also made a dedicated IG Stories Highlight for my #SkinDiaries if you'd like to keep track on my progress with me!

[topreviewin]

On the private front side, Stewart’s friendships, especially the lady link with Snoop Dogg, along side the woman health methods have actually grabbed the collective’s interest by late—especially after the woman viral 2020 share selfie. The multi-hyphenate's way of health is old. Modern age, “woo woo” methods haven't any devote the woman program, which can be alternatively piled with regular beauty appointments, green drinks, and pilates courses. On a phone call obtained from a vehicle away from home, Stewart details the woman way of holistic health. (Image credit: Future)i want outcomes, therefore such things as reiki with hand movements hovering over my own body is certainly not rather just what i want. I do not react anyway to acupuncture therapy. If only used to do, but I do not. Rolfing—it’s alright, however it’s maybe not my personal favorite thing. I’d constantly go for an extremely great deep structure therapeutic massage. (Image credit: Future)Acupuncture. I simply cannot enter it.(Image credit: Future)A typical beauty time, which can be my regular work-day, begins at 5:45. We simply take my bath, clean my face effectively, and slather myself with Cle de Peau cream thereby applying my Clarins deodorant, that I love. We wear my face serums—usually a vitamin C from Mario Badescu and a peptide one from Alastin. I’ll do a tinted lotion combined with Cle de Peau lotion or serum which will be my basis during the day. we check out pilates by about 6:30. We have a trainer inside my regional studio—We have the time to myself. We'll go back home to get my green liquid before I-go get my locks done at a tiny, private hair salon called Through the Roots in Katonah, ny. I have a facial most likely at least one time a month—I’ve already been planning Mario Badescu for almost 40 many years. They’re my personal favorite men and women. It's my job to have a massage a couple of times weekly and check-out my chiropractor Wanda Lopez weekly for around 45 moments. After that, I have my manicures and pedicures done around every a couple of weeks. (Image credit: Future)I favor consuming natural Leaf beverage to relax—it’s a lot better than consuming one glass of wine. I’ll never ever take in alone home. That’s maybe not element of my program, so I’ll drink iced-tea. (Image credit: Future)If I’m planning splurge, I’m only planning check-out an extremely great spa all-day. I might get wraps, facials, and three massage treatments. I might have my mind massaged for an hour or so. I happened to be only in Kohler, Wisconsin and I also went along to see their particular spa. They will have a plunge share and an ice share, a sauna, and vapor area. There is also a tremendously, great therapeutic massage. (Image credit: Future)It’s about looking after myself, consuming really, working out properly, and performing my day-to-day ablutions. it is never ever hitting the hay with my makeup products on, making certain i am constantly neat and healthier. We hardly ever become ill and I also'm extremely healthier training sporadically up to now. (Image credit: Future)We have an excellent concierge physician; their name's Dr. Albert Knapp. I will phone him anytime time or evening. He is not merely a physician, but he is in addition a buddy in which he understands basically require such a thing unique.(Image credit: Future)Nope–nothing. Nada.(Image credit: Future)I-go to your flicks. I adore movies. I’ll occasionally head out to an extremely good supper with buddies or go after a horseback trip. We began driving once I had been 50-something and I’ve already been driving since. We have five ponies and I also love all of them. We most tracks in Bedford. it is good. (Image credit: Future)I’m a bit nervous. I’m operating later for the next session. (Image credit: Future)My existing health focus is to my ruptured calf msucles within my remaining position. We ruptured it two and half years back along with surgery upon it, however it performedn’t work awfully really.

I’m unhappy with-it and also the discomfort is dragging on a tad too very long.(picture credit: Future)I’m the happiest whenever I’m with my grandchildren or my small nephews that are extremely precious. Mainly however, I’m happiest with 12-year-old granddaughter, Jude. She actually is the absolute most enjoyable. Final week-end she welcomed five of the woman college chums over for a two-day week-end inside my farm. She had a fun-filled week-end thanks to Martha. It had been a tremendously hectic 48 hours, there is an entire schedule.(Image credit: Future)I attempted the cryotherapy thing not long ago. You’re said to be within for three full minutes. We lasted about a moment . 5. It’s 60 levels below zero and you are nude. I did so pretty good i do believe. (Image credit: Future)i simply don’t pay attention to some of that junk. I’m extremely informed with regards to health and fitness. (Image credit: Future)Nothing truly. I do believe I’ve done pretty much. I’ve constantly exercised and I’ve constantly looked after my epidermis. We haven’t destroyed any element of my own body to ensure that’s decent.  window.reliableConsentGiven.then(function() !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function() n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments) ;if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' fbq('init', '756449714459937'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); ) #Martha #Stewart

[beazt]

my anxiety is sky fucking high right now

end me and my torment. please

I cannot fucking take all this medical bullshit going on with me I can’t fucking take it there’s so much it’s constantly new stuff I always feel like I’m dying and that since my doctors have no fucking clue what any of it is caused by, they have no fucking idea how to save me, or even help me, and whenever I have an idea of something to check for they shut me down and I’m a good advocate for myself typically but I’m so at my wits end that I take what they say at face value and don’t push it any further. I need someone desperately to come to appointments and advocate for me but I have no one I could trust to do that, and even if I did, no one is able to take time off work for my medical appointments even my mom who is my transportation. I’ve skipped out on so so so many medical appointments lately that I need because I don’t have transportation. and the reason I don’t have transportation? Fucking new medical condition preventing me from driving!!! fucking condition that apparently has no likely causes and therefore no direction of treatment!!! the only possible treatment I could try is a type of physical therapy which would have to be at least weekly if not more often and 100 miles away!!!! when I HAVE NO TRANSPORTATION BECAUSE OF THIS CONDITION!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAA FUCKING END ME ALREADY

AND BECAUSE I HAVENT HAD THESE NEW CONDITIONS FOR 12 MONTHS YET THEY DONT EVEN COUNT TOWARDS MY ONGOING DISABILITY CASE. AND IM ON TRACK TO LOSE MY HEALTHCARE COVERAGE IN FEBRUARY UNLESS I WIN MY DISABILITY CASE. AND I HAVE NOT WORKED SINCE JANUARY AND I HAVE BARELY ENOUGH MONEY FOR ONE MORE MONTH OF STRICTLY MY OWN BILLS. AND MY MOM CANT AFFORD THE REST OF THE BILLS EVEN WORKING OVERTIME AND CANT GET A FULL WEEKS PAY WHEN SHE HAS TO TAKE ME TO MEDICAL APPOINTMENTS

AND BECAUSE I HAVENT WON MY DISABILITY CASE (YET?) FOODSTAMPS WON’T CONSIDER ME DISABLED/UNABLE TO WORK SO THEY WONT GIVE US ANY MORE FOOD ASSISTANCE FOR 3 YEARS UNLESS I WORK AT LEAST 20 HOURS PER WEEK

AND!!!

There are 2 food banks in my entire county!!! which in my area you have to have an address in the county to get their food bank assistance!! and!!! one of them ONLY distributes food 2 Mondays per month for an hour each time!! 10:30-11:30 am!!! my mom works every weekday from like 6am until at least 5 pm!!!

And the other one is only open M-F 9am-3pm!!!!!! and you can only get their assistance once per month anyway!!!! and it’s Christian as hell so typically they really push Christian bullshit on everything!!!! and there is ONE church that sometimes offers food pantry items but again!! that’s only on Tuesdays 8am-noon!!!!!!

and for all of the above you have to provide your ID and verify your income and all that shit so like it isn’t like I can get anyone to go pick up shit for us either!!!!

GOD just JESUS FUCKING CHRIST just I AM LOSING MY GOD DAMNED MIND!!!! LIFE IS IMPOSSIBLE LET ME FUCKING OUUUUUTTTTTTTT

[unmaskingdisability]

I feel very disconnected, but for me that was a forcibly learned experience. Being a child and told it couldn't hurt that bad, I was just being dramatic, we didn't have money for the doctors or going and they say you're fainting bc you need to lose weight and work on anxiety. I was told over and over to disconnect and stop listening, and it became a survival tool bc I had completely untreated major muscle pain, gastro issues, sensory overload, fatigue and so on.

It's been a journey the last few years to try to reconnect with my body for really the first time since I was a young child... to try to learn to feel hunger cues and not just levels of nausea, to focus in despite the pain and use the pain to know which areas need the most care, to learn the difference between being over or understimulated, or feeling between "this is a real emotional response" or "this is pain and sensory overload."

It's. Fucking hard! It's slow and painful and I have a lot of little wins, but also still a lot a lot of being disconnected from my own body. Being around other disabled folx in a weekly video chat has been really helpful, hearing how they navigate rediscovering and reconnecting w these things. Going to EMDR therapy and being willing to talk about all of this and all the reasons I started disconnecting or masking in the first place has helped. It's not easy to undo decades of things forced on you for survival, but I do find it helpful and that it gives me some more control over my life.

Are there any disabled people with severe mobility impairments who feel a genuine connection to your body? Like you feel that you live as/through your body rather than feeling like your body is this heavy thing that you have to carry with you that you can't really control properly

Because I'm noticing more and more that I feel very disconnected from my body and almost like I'm separate from it, yet still attached to it, and I'm wondering if that's an inevitable part of not be able to move properly/Having a body I can't properly control, or whether this is something I can work on and improve with therapy

[charcherry-weekly]

Charcherry Weekly - Issue 132

Hello everyone, Mage of Light Nick Card here. Things happened this week. Let's go over them.

An Explosive Start

Early this week, there was an explosion just outside of Unity Village. Investigative Reporter Aeons Edgeworth, along with Gym Leader Jovin Castle, made their way to the scene of the incident. Apparently Jovin's wife, Page of Mind Samm, had accidentally an explosion while trying to perform a mind-y maneuver. This resulted in a concussion which required medical attention. Sylph of Life Nurse Eden was dispatched to the scene and provided immediate treatment. Samm was advised to refrain from strenuous mental activity for the next few days just in case.

Both Sides of the Pizza

Last week, the webcomic hosting website MS Paint Fan Adventures went under maintenance. Receiving word that it would last for a few weeks, your dear newsletter writer decided to instead resume work on None Pizza With Left Beef elsewhere, also mirroring between two message boards, including the one that primarily hosts this newsletter. Fortunately, a read-only mode has since been implemented on the website, making the rest of the comic readable once more. Once MSPFA is restored to full use once more, the externally mirrored pages will be added there, and a proper archived version of Left Beef will be extracted and hosted on the dungeon crasher's website.

In tangential news, development on Chapter 2 part 2 of Left Beef is slated to begin at the end of February. That means that the cast should be prepared to disembark at that time, with Thoren staying put and instead sending Thorenbot to be remote controlled for their safety.

A Creation Story in the Making

As of late, Samm has been working on shaping, planning, and terraforming on Grass 3. After a brief break to recover from her recent concussion, she resumed this. Reportedly, Samm and her adopted daughter Brae Emit took a trip to the otherworld to shop for supplies for worldbuilding reasons. She managed to make a bargain with a dryad that went very well for everyone involved, and as a result now has a new resident as well as a variety of available supplies.

Earlier tonight however, Page of Rage Jovin Castle retrieved an asteroid to skillfully drop into place, forming a mountain and a crater upon the otherwise minimally carved land. Samm summoned a great blast of water and some clouds, which had become charged with two bolts of lightning. A storm has begun as a result, and in a few days time, a recently prepared riverbed is slated to settle. Samm and Jovin will likely need a few days of rest after this combined feat.

Sometimes bad days are just days that are bad

Just the other day, your dear newsletter writer was summoned to Desertia Town Square via light-y senses. What I had found there was a fortune teller light player offering her services. She was pleasant to speak to, though warned me of what may happen if I got my fortune read. Heeding the warning, I left without requesting her services. I assume she will likely be there for the rest of the week. Considering the lack of business in the square as of late, it may be a good idea to visit if you happen to be in the area.

This week’s known market stands in Desertia Town:

Fortune teller's stand (this week...?)

Katie’s potion stand (*CaFAI filling in for Katie when unavailable)

Brae’s canned goods stand (currently closed for the time being)

shinyjiggly pokesnacks stand (ran by Rufus)

There was also some minor news this week. Brae recently began visiting the Alola region and defeated the first island kahuna in the island challenge. The movie choice at movie night has necessitated that any movie chosen for movie night need to be vetted first before submission. Oh, and Dr. Winters is officially back in town and has slots open for therapy sessions, though has mentioned that in most cases she is only accepting up to two appointments per week to avoid burnout. I think that covers it. Seeya next week! https://letssosl.boards.net/thread/361/charcherry-weekly-issue-132

[kur0m1bab3]

-The diaries of the boy in the atheneum | B. Katsuki

-Bakugo x Gn!Reader

-Wc:5.9k

-pt(1/4)

Cw: strangers to lovers, very slow burn, very cliche, canon typical lifestyle( ie. hero’s and villains), Both katsuki and reader are in college, eventual smut so MDNI,themes like depression, anxiety and loneliness are going to be heavily implemented throughout this story, this story is heavily character driven from both perspectives, themes revolving around the stigma of male depression as well as the societal views of therapy,depression, addiction etc, an analysis into the hero system, mentions of death, mentions of an serious illness(cant say yet spoilers), a deep dive into katsuki as a character.

A/n: Before I start this off I want to say Thank you sm for taking the time to read this story. It took a lot out of me both mentally and physically, considering such heavy topic were presented throughout this story. Thank you to all the wonderful people who took the time to beta read this, I don’t have many moots on this app, but to everyone who did help, thank you so much. This story is essentially a character study of my beloved bakugo katsuki. He’s such a diverse and complex character regarding personality and I wanted to dive so much deeper, since I see his qualities in myself. I had a lot of fun writing this, and of course there will be multiple parts for this, I’m trying to cut it down to three to four. This project was heavily HEAVILY inspired by ‘The liminal space between love and lonely’ by the amazing @prettyboykatsuki . I kid you not I read this piece almost everyday. Words cannot even begin to describe how eloquently, ari wrote this piece. His writing is some of the best I’ve come across on this app, they never fail to leave me speechless! So please make sure to go check out her blog and writing! Feedback,reblog and likes greatly appreciated!

Bakugo Katsuki really liked the library.

There wasn’t anything inherently special about the quaint library that peeked his immense infatuation. It was normally dim in the building, rows of old, poorly lit overhead lights casting a flaxen hue about the space. Old papyrus and hints of coffee permeated the area, the smell distinct and earthy, clinging desperately onto every fiber of everything there. The furnishing in the building was fairly old, if katsuki had to guess he’d say it hadn’t had a change in about 25 years. It reminded him of the Hogwarts library in a way, a phantom of a smile gracing his features every time he thought about it, making a mental note to re-read the Harry Potter series. The library was always cold; katsuki absolutely hated that fact though, the only thing he detested about his newfound sanctuary.

Katsuki frequented the library weekly, his visitations even warranting in the familiarity of the old librarian named Lilian, who always greeted the ashen blond with a sweet smile and butterscotch. The library had become his safe space, his little corner of the world, an escape so to say; though he’d never use that verbiage. There wasn’t anything specific katsuki would do at the library, some days he’d study, read and check out a poetry book or two or even take a much-needed nap in the corner of the building, tucked away behind the large oak shelves. Then there were days where he’d just…sit. He’d sit for hours on end. Thinking. Staring. Pondering. There wasn’t any specific thought in his head on days like this. He’d guess that on days like this his mind resembled something akin to the beginnings of a thunderstorm. Grey, eerie, foggy; loud with the buzzing of thoughts that seemed to jumble into white noise.

Today was one of those days. Katsuki skipped class today, a heavyweight resting on his shoulders he couldn’t quite put a finger on. His mood was

Somber; desolate fragments of his already broken psyche crumbling like a fall leaf. He had no desire to deal with the antics of college and life today; His Hero courses he’d been skipping; The phone calls from his mother he’s been ignoring for about a month straight now. so he grabbed his stuff and headed to the library. The train ride to the library was always nice, watching scenic valleys and rolling hills fly past his half-lidded eyes as a random playlist played in his ears. It was about a 10-minute ride to the library. Katsuki really could’ve walked, which reminded him to start going to the gym again, considering the last endurance test he took came back with the shout-worthy grade of a 70.

The library was empty per usual, a handful of cars parked sporadically across the parking lot. Vermilion eyes flitted over the grey landscape, as he lackadaisically strolled into the building. If there was one thing Bakugo katsuki absolutely hated, it was change. Everyone, even himself could attest to that fact, which is why the moment he stepped through the threshold of the library his jaw ticked in irritation. Lilian, the sweet little librarian, who katsuki started to grow quite fond of, was nowhere to be found. Instead, in her place stood you. You didn’t notice him at first, your attention being alarmingly captivated by the frog plushie dressed as a librarian that sat perched on the reception desk. Katsuki huffed a breath, his mood exacerbating even more as he shuffled his way to the desk, a deep scowl forming on his hard features.

His presence startled you, him making himself known by dropping two poetry books onto the wooden desk, the thud resounding through the library. You jumped with a squeak, eyes finally gazing upwards in both surprise and slight irritation.

“O-oh! Gosh, you scared me sorry...Uh hi.. what can I-“

“Where’s Lilian.” The blond huffed, his voice rough and on edge, completely cutting you off like a hot knife through butter. A bewildered look flashed across your face for a split second, the slight furrow in your brows not going unnoticed by the blond.

“..um..vacation..her son just had a baby..” you mumbled, grabbing the books he tossed onto the desk. Katsuki clicked his tongue the ‘tsk’ sound vibrating in your skull rapidly as anger slowly began to fester in your gut from the stranger's attitude.

“She’ll be back in a month or two. For now, I’m the temporary bookkeeper, y/n.” You said matter of factly, watching as the blond finally turned to fully look at you. Your eyes met in a heated stare, the tension running thick through the area. Katsuki snarled, nostrils flaring slightly before he turned his back and walked away.

“Fucking asshole..” you mumbled to yourself, the weird and sudden interaction making a dull ache spark behind your eyes as you watched the back of the rude blond descend the aisle of books.

Katsuki Bakugo really, really fucking hates change. That sentiment was driven even further home as he glared at the table in front of him. He usually sat in the back of the library, the table he sat at was a little hard to find, cloistered behind two rows of shelves sitting snuggled deep in the corner. From here no one usually bothered him, he’d have a few students that would venture to the back, jumping slightly at his presence; them normally scurrying off at katsukis obvious disdain for their company. Lilian came back there sometimes as well, katsuki assumed it was to check to see if he was dead or not, a relived little smile gracing her aging face to see him still breathing, as she’d set down sweetly a cup of coffee or a nicknack or two, a smile and gruff thanks being given in gratitude.

There were well over 100 books piled onto the table and chairs katsuki mentally marked as his territory. Multi-colored sticky notes, tape, pens, and pencils were scattered about the table, him watching with a twitch as a lead pencil rolled from the desk, dropping to the carpeted floor with a small ‘clack’. He stared at the pencil unmoving, clenching and unclenching his fist. He no longer decided to ponder over why his table was currently a mess, instead choosing to let his anger consume him as he quickly turned on his heels, heading straight to the front.

You heard his heavy footsteps from a mile away, angry thuds hurdling quickly towards the desk. You looked up, being met with the intense heat of the blond staring you down, it almost made you back up in defense.

“Could you please go pick your shit up from my table?” Katsuki snarled, his pearly whites on display as he glowered down at you. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, mouth slightly open as a scoff left your mouth.

“Excuse me?” You asked bewildered, as you watched the blond's face twist in disdain even more. He took a step closer to the desk, his shadow cloaking you in shivering darkness, as you swallowed shallowly his presence making your mouth run dry.

“I said get your fucking books and pens and shit off my table you shitty fucking replacement.” His voice was cold, low, and brewing with rage. He had the decency to keep his voice to a hushed harsh whisper, the sound causing chills to run down your spine. You studied the blond for a minute, taking in his appearance. You know for sure you’ve seen him around before. Campus you’re pretty sure. Based on his overall build alone you came to the conclusion he was a hero-in-training, his clothing doing a horrible job of hiding how brawny the scruffy blond really was. He was wearing a dark forest green sweatshirt, the color contrasting with his eyes well. The khaki pants he decided to wear complimented the sweatshirt well, though you could tell he didn’t iron them. On his feet were a pair of green shoes a little off-kilter of the green in his sweatshirt but, it still sufficed. you couldn’t tell the brand, but you could tell they have been thoroughly worn. A creme-colored tote bag was hung across his body, with further inspection you could tell just like his shoes, that the bag had some semblance of wistfulness to the man.

He did a great job over covering up his exhaustion that much you could tell. Your eyes finally examined his face. He was awfully attractive, with hard-cut features, searing eyes, and soft-looking hair; if he weren’t so much of a dick you probably would’ve crumbled under the intensity of his gaze. The longer you stared the more you began to notice. His lips, albeit soft-looking, were dry and slightly chapped, his bottom lip looked like it had been gnawed on for quite some time, the flesh there looking a little raw and bloody. His eyes, pretty saffron; looked dull, sunken in almost. His bags were dark and heavy, his eyes puffy with the obvious lack of sleep. His skin looked pale, not sickly; but pale perhaps due to the dreary winter weather. You could spot no blemishes on his face only a scar running from the right side base of his jaw to the middle of his right cheek. His hair looked a bit oily it had probably been a while since the last time he washed it. It had the slightest curl in it, a strand curling prettily in front of his eye.

His relatively put-together appearance was immediately foiled by the tired, and almost slightly desperate look on his face.

“Are you just gonna fuckin’ stare at me or go get your shit?” Katsuki sneered, his barely-there patience already running thin at your inquisitive gaze. You looked like you had snapped out of your trance from his voice, a ‘tch’ leaving the blond's lips.

“I’m guessing you’re referring to the clearly occupied table in the back.” You quipped back, eyebrow raised as the male huffed a breath.

“Of course, I’m talking about about the fuckin’ table in the back. Do you see any other tables out here with your stupid office shit on it?” Katsuki rumbled, his brash words seeming to have little to no effect, as you kept your face neutral to his tirade.

“No actually-” You began, deciding not to humor his snippy rhetorical question, arms crossing over your sweater-covered chest in defiance.

“I’m in the middle of doing book inventory. You’re more than welcomed to sit anywhere else though.” A triumphant grin spreads across your face at the blonds deepening scowl. An incredulous puff of air left his lips as he stared at you for a moment longer, before turning on his heels, disappearing behind a few shelves.

Katsuki was pissed. His mood shifted gear to irritation and anger rather than somber as he sat on the dark carpet floor, close to his old table, a longing look on his face before he stubbornly leaned back against the bookshelf, snatching up the book he picked up and began reading. It had been about two and a half hours since the last time you saw the hot-headed blond. You began to wonder if he left while you had your back turned, upset with the fact you took his table. Your thoughts were immediately halted as you made your way back to the table. He was sitting a few feet from the table you had occupied, on the floor. His large frame looked bunched between the narrow walkway between the shelves. His legs were sprawled out a slight bend in his knees due to the finite amount of room he had. His back was pressed up against the bookshelf behind him, his head leaning slightly back as the book he was reading rested in his hands, eyes dancing across the page.

He looked peaceful, there were no scowls or creases on his face; the semblance of a pout caressing his bubblegum pink lips. He looked pretty like this, almost like a character straight from a novel.

“You have a starin’ problem.” The blond mumbled, his sudden voice making you jump in surprise. His eyes glanced up at you momentarily before returning back to the book.

“Sorry…I didn’t realize you were back here…” you said carefully, trying to gauge his mood in order not to piss him off. He let out a sound of an acknowledgment as you slowly made your way towards him. He didn’t even bother to look up as he moved his legs, allowing you to get to the table still piled high with books. You mumbled out a feeble thanks, a grunt being responded as you began to go through the stockpile of books. The air was quiet, the hum of the heater and sounds of pages flipping filling the area. It was a calm air, unlike the hostility from earlier.

“Sorry about earlier,” Katsuki grumbled, keeping his eyes downcast on the page, not daring to look up. His voice caught

You off guard again, body immediately turning in the wooden chair, a loud creak sounding throughout the space at your sudden movements.

“Huh?” You answered back dumbly—an irritated look flashing across the blond's face as he glanced at you, taking in your appearance. You looked to be around the same age as him, hair up and messy, a pair of glasses perched on your nose as gazed at him with a dumbstruck expression.

“You deaf or somethin’? I said m’sorry about earlier-“ his eyes flickering away from your momentarily.

“…was in a bad mood..took it out on you” Katsuki finalized, Turing his attention back to his book as he saw you straighten up your posture from his peripheral.

“S’alright…I uh...I could tell..” you trailed off, fiddling with your lanyard as you peeled at the blond through your lashes. He grunted again in acknowledgment, seemingly ending the conversation there. You stared at him for a while, curiosity clouding your mind as you watched him.

“So uh...I take it you come here often?” You asked, awkwardness seeping through your voice as you scanned another book, placing it where it belongs. It took him a while to answer, you thought he maybe didn’t hear you as you went to open your mouth again.

“Somethin' like that,” Katsuki said shortly, no longer paying attention to the book, but keeping his eyes roaming around the page. A soft hum left your mouth as you slightly turned, facing the man.

“Whatcha readin’?” You asked mindlessly, a strange comfort casting over you at his presence alone. A dark blush radiated the tips of Katsukis ears as he cleared his throat.

“Uh..the sorcerers stone..” he mumbled. An amused smile graced your face as you giggled.

“Harry Potter?” You snorted as you watched the blond's face turn into a deep scowl.

“Fuck is so funny about that?” He growled, his cheeks dusting a hue of pink out of embarrassment.

“Nothing nothing…it’s just…You don’t strike me as a Harry Potter kind of guy.” You hummed continuing to put the books away. Katsuki stayed quiet, his mood neutral as he carefully got up, cautiously making sure he didn’t accidentally kick the books as he dusted himself off. You turned at his sudden movement, watching as he gathered his things along with the book.

“You gonna keep fucking starin’ or come and check out my book?” Katsuki snapped, you rolling your eyes a bit at his attitude as you mumbled a small ‘right’, watching as he made his way to the reception desk. He didn’t stick around after you checked him out, barely responding to the farewell you administered before hastily making his way out into the cold. You watched after him, leaning across the oak desk to see him stop in the middle of the parking lot. He was looking up towards the sky, blond locks whipping in the nippy air slightly. He seemed to be thinking, a faraway look on his face as he huffed out a breath, the air being visible due to the cold, before walking off disappearing into the darkening night. You stared at the spot he stood at for a bit longer, mind replaying the events of today as you tore your gaze away from outside, beginning the process of locking up the library.

As you were locking up you made a mental note to re-read the Harry Potter series.

————————————

Katsuki was a creature of habit. He didn’t necessarily have a schedule so to say, more so a vague picture of what he does on a day-to-day basis that revolved around the things he enjoys and necessities.

Lately, though, it seems as though he never even bothered to attempt to try and regulate his life like how it was before. The days seemed to be shortened and the nights seemed to drag on in sheaths of rolling darkness… or maybe it was just daylight savings—He hadn’t been keeping track of the days and time lately.

Katsuki didn’t want to go to class today, thankfully it was only two classes, both fairly bearable and easy. He really couldn’t afford to miss another day, his emails being bombarded by his advisors ‘bitchin' about some shit’ as he’d put it.

He believes it said something about 2 more unexcused absences and he’d be kicked out of the hero course, or something like that; he always just threw those emails in his junk folder anyway.

Today was cold, colder than it had been last week when he visited the library, it didn’t help with his mood, sluggish and a little disoriented from the mere 2-hour sleep he got that morning.

The ride to campus was as mundane as it could get, an elderly couple holding hands chatting quietly amongst each other, smiles gracing their faces. There was a mother, clearly exhausted, but nonetheless smiling and engaged as she listened carefully to her son explain some over-the-top extravagant story.

Katsuki smiled softly, painfully. He always found kids amusing, so blissfully unaware of the sins of the world. It was about 20 minutes to his campus bus stop, Katsuki deciding to take the tranquil peace of the bus as his chance to finally get a well-needed rest.

20 minutes wasn’t nearly enough time for katsuki to sleep, it felt as though he blinked and was suddenly thrust back into the reality of the real world. It took him a minute to orient himself again, giving the bus driver a tight-lipped smile as he paid his fare and stepped into the nippy winter air.

There was a familiar tune playing throughout his campus, wracking his brain for the name of the tune, mindlessly strolling to his class. There were stringy lights hung everywhere, green and red orbs of ordainments decorating the trimmed trees surrounding his school. Then, it dawned on him.

‘Chestnuts roasting on an open fire..’

“Fuck..” Katsuki murmured, the Christmas song ringing in his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he lost track of time to this extent. It was December 1st, the dragged-out year he had, began to come to a close more quickly than he had originally anticipated. He knew his mother was probably ringing his phone off the hook, trying to reach out.

It’d been a while since he last talked to her…he missed her..a lot. He hurried to his first class of the morning, anthropology. He doesn’t know why he decided to take this class, if he remembers correctly, he’s pretty sure he let Mina handle his scheduling for this semester gruffing out a ‘knock yourself out pinkie’.

It took approximately 10 minutes and 54 seconds to reach his anthropology class, mumbling complaints to himself as he sniffed harshly, cheeks and nose a cherry red from the sharp winter air. Katsuki heard Kirishima before he saw him.

“Kacchan! Dude where have you been?” Kirishima asked hurriedly, watching as Katsuki grumbled and cursed under his breath as he struggled to take off his coat.

“Home. Library.” Katsuki mumbled, finally getting the garment off as he sat down in his seat, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips as the warmth of the room began to envelop him.

“Next time text us or something! We were worried we haven’t seen you in like a week and a half!” Another voice chimed from directly behind him, as he glanced up, coming face to face with bright yellow pupils. Katsuki let out a hum of acknowledgment as Mina handed him a cup of coffee an appreciative hum given in return.

“Sorry..just been busy,” Katsuki said, as both Mina and Kirishima shared a collective look, noticing the fiery blond's current docile and introspective disposition.

“Bk…if...if you’re going through something—“

“I’m fine.” Katsuki cut off, putting on his best smirk as he sipped the hot beverage at hand.

“Don’t go all fuckin’ mushy gushy on me dumbass” he countered, hoping they couldn’t see right through him. Kirishima chuckled, throwing an arm around the blond as Mina rested her head atop katsukis beanie covered head as the two laughed. A wobbly smile sat on Katsukis face, it was an eerie smile, unsettling you could say. A blank owlish look masked by a faux grin. As Katsuki sat in silence, letting the warmth of his friends, and their laughter flutter past him he came to realize two things:

Katsuki Bakugo was alone and scared.

______________

It had been almost two and a half weeks since you last saw the blond-haired male with a pretty face and fiery attitude. You hate to admit that you were a little dejected not being able to see him. Despite his temperament and god-awful vocabulary, he was interesting.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was, but he intrigued you nonetheless. The chime of the door opening broke you from your thoughts, you didn’t bother looking up, as you automatically and almost robotically called out a greeting.

“Welcome, if you need any assistance just let me know.”

“Got your fuckin’ junk on my table again? Or can I go back to my rightful place?”

Your head snapped up embarrassingly fast, taking in the sight of the blond male who’s been on your mind for days now.

“Hi..” you breathed out softly, eyes taking him in. Today he was in all black. Black sweatpants, black sweatshirt, and a black beanie covering tuffs of blond that peeked from underneath. His cheeks and nose were dusted a raging pink from the harsh winds, despite the winter glow he still looked exhausted, maybe even more so than last time.

“Do you sleep?” You blurted out before you could even think, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you stared at him wide-eyed. His expression never changed; giving you the same blank look as before.

“What’s it look like?” He asked rhetorically, an eyebrow raised in question as you cleared your throat. There was a brief silence as you took the Harry Potter book from his large hands.

“So-“ you began awkwardly, glancing up as the blond awaited your next statement.

“How was the book?” You asked, coughing awkwardly at his stoic face.

“You’re shit at small talk.” Katsuki deadpanned, as he watched your face morph into embarrassment as you mumbled out a small sorry continuing to check his book in.

He watched you silently, eyes observing you catching little things he hadn’t noticed the first time. You were wearing an ugly Christmas sweater, assuming you were already in the Christmas spirit. Your nails were painted, the tips a bright jolly red; which Katsuki actually took a great liking to. Today, your hair was down a stupid Santa hat clip pushing back the shorter pieces. Katsuki thought you looked tacky, like a kindergarten teacher. He watched as your earrings, which were in the shapes of little snowflakes jingled with every movement.

“You look like a hallmark catalog…tacky as shit” Katsuki murmured, a slight quirk to his lips as he watched your face morph into horror.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m just in the Christmas spirit!” You piped back, voice defensive and high pinched as you flared at the blond. Katsuki gave you an amused scoff, letting his eyes roam around the library. It looked like you had just began to decorate it, flashy tinsel being hung from the shelves and tables. The normal library-themed plushies, replaced by little elves and Santa plushies. He could hear the distant hum of a Christmas playlist playing throughout the library reminding him of his campus.

He glanced behind you, gazing at the messy storage boxes of Christmas decorations and a box that seemed to hold an artificial Christmas tree. Katsuki shook his head, your temperament reminding him of a toddler, as he turned around wordlessly, wandering off into the library.

You let out an abated breath as you peered down at the sweater you were wearing, a frown etching upon your lips.

“Do I really look tacky..?”

_____________

It was about 3 hours when you saw the ashen blond next, toting his bag and two books, one being the next installment of the Harry Potter series, the other being a poetry book.

“…The teeth of the world are sharp….huh? Kinda dark don’t ya think?” You commented jokingly, handing him the book only to be met with silence. You looked up, his expression throwing you off course as you looked into his solemn eyes.

“S’ a beautiful book…” he trailed off, as he grabbed his things leaving without so much as a word. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn you saw him walk out with the remnants of tears stains adorning his flushed cheeks. After that he came back the next day, same unreadable expression adorning his face as he waltzed in with the poetry book in one hand, his tote bag nestled under his arm.

“You’re back early.” You greeted, a small smile on your face as you watched the blond watch you, eyes scanning over your appearance before handing you the poetry book.

“Yeah. Finished it last night.” He replied as you hummed softly, checking in his book. He was still standing there, analyzing you closely, his burning gaze finally enough to tear you from the book, an eyebrow cocked upward.

“…what?” You asked eyebrow raised.

“No Christmas sweater?” He spoke, eyes peering at you curiously as you bit your lip, clearing your throat.

“Uh..well..” you began as he watched you, expression blank and almost bored.

“You..you said yesterday it was tacky so I uh…I don’t know…you were probably right it was a little over the top..” you mumbled out, embarrassed you care so much about the aloof blonds opinion. Katsuki watched you momentarily as he kissed his teeth.

“Yeah, it was tacky.” He spoke, watching as your face dropped even more.

“But…it was cute.” He grumbled before walking off, hoping to the gods above you didn’t see the burning blush dusting his cheeks.

You began to see the ashen blond more frequently from then. Him coming in every day, giving you a small greeting before descending back into his little corner. You couldn’t help but smile, cheeks warming every time you saw him, heart beating just a bit faster at the first of a phantom smile he’d give you every now and then.

At a point, you even began to bring him lunch or snack if you had the extra change to spare, which the blond would happily accept, with a grunt as the two of you would eat in comfortable silence. It was the week before Christmas, the library being reasonably empty due to Christmas break, that had actually started on the 6th day of the month.

You were surprised to still see the blond poetry lover still visiting the library despite the holidays. It had been a little over a month since the first interaction with red-eyed mystery, as you began to see yourself crave his presence. Your friends thought you were ridiculous, crushing on a guy you didn’t even know the name of.

You hurried back into the library, teeth chattering as you hugged yourself carefully, the bags in your hands making an ample amount of noise through the deserted library. You shuffled to the back, a smile gracing your face as you spotted tuffs of unruly blond hair.

“Sorry It took so long, there was a line.” You mumbled, shivering in your coat as you sat down in front of the blond. A tiny smile graced his face as he looked at you, tired eyes shining with thanks.

“S’fine..” he mumbled as you smiled.

“So I didn’t know what to get you at first, but I remembered you had said something before about liking Chinese food so I got us some lo mein, fried rice, and generals chicken.” You finished, a giddy smile on your face as Katsuki watched you search through the bag of food. He gazed at you, watching as your mouth moved a mile a minute, an amused grin on his face.

“-But anyways do you want-“

“Bakugo,” Katsuki said simply, watching your face twist in confusion.

“What?” You asked curiously as the blond scoffed a laugh, reaching for the bag of food.

“Bakugo…my names Bakugo..” you stared at the blond with wide eyes, you couldn’t stop the giddy smile that crept on your face even if you tried as you nodded, biting your lip.

“Bakugo…”

_____________

“Why are you still on campus for the holidays? Does your family live around here?” You asked absentmindedly, eyes focused on the cheap chopsticks that were slightly splintered. There was a small silence in the air, causing you to look up curiously at bakugo. He was leaning on his hand, a small frown on his face as he childishly picked at his food.

“Could ask you the same question.” He cut off, his retort rendering you wide-eyed, as katsuki mentally applauded himself for deflecting the uncomfy question.

“Well…money’s tight right now….I live off-campus, I have books I need to pay, extra courses I need to take…I wouldn’t be able to afford to see my family…” you answered, katsuki couldn’t quite place the emotion on your face. If he had to guess he’d say you had a look of content, acceptance almost.

“Why not ask your old folks for cash or somethin’ “ he murmured, stuffing his face with an ample amount of overly greasy lo mein. You shrugged, leaning back onto the small wooden chair you were currently sitting in.

“Doesn’t feel right…they’ve done enough for me already…plus it’s only this time, I should be able to make it back home for spring break though” you said a matter of factly.

“What about here?” Bakugo pushed, raising an arched eyebrow as you mimicked his expression, head tilting in curiosity.

“What about here?” You parroted only for katsuki to click his tongue in annoyance, irritation bubbling in his eyes.

“Ya work here right?” Katsuki replied obviously, as he watched you chuckle a bit, your nose scrunching up as your giggles reverberated throughout the library.

“I’m just a shitty fucking replacement remember?” You giggled, watching as Bakugos face morphed from confusion to a bright cherry red.

“I said I was sorry didn’t I!?” He snapped back a bit louder than intended, the obvious hints of embarrassment lacing through his voice as the tips of his ears burned crimson.

“I’m fucking with you-” you gasped through giggles as bakugo sneered at you, averting his eyes in embarrassment as you began to calm down your laughing fit. There was another brief silence that encased the room, comfortable and warm.

“….you should stay..” katsuki murmured through the silence, his eyes briefly cutting up to you before averting his gaze quickly as you turned to him a little stunned.

“Finally warming up to me huh?” You teased as the blond finally looked at you. No sneer or glare present in his face, only the aloof emotionless expression you’ve gotten used to and the smallest semblance of a grin.

“Yeah…something like that.”

____________________________

“Let’s take a walk.” Was the first thing Bakugo had said to you the very next day. At first, you laughed, not taking his outlandish request seriously, only for the blond to sneer at you, asking the question once again with an array of colorful words.

“Bakugo I’m in the middle of working..” you replied slowly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You dumbass who else is in here besides me and you? You’re like a fucking hermit crab in this damn dusty place” katsuki replied, watching you as you weighed your options. You finally looked at the blond, a sigh falling from your lips as you rolled your eyes, grabbing your coat.

“Fine; but if something goes down while I’m gone I’m blaming you.” You warned eyes narrowed on the blond as he rolled his eyes waving you off.

“Whatever. Hurry the hell up before I change my mind.” He snipped, hastily walking back out into the snowy terrain. You followed closely beside the blond, hands dug deep in the pockets of your coat teeth clattering due to the chill.

“Can't believe I'm out here in below-freezing weather..” you whined as katsuki looked at you. Katsuki had grown to accept his attraction to you a couple of weeks ago. You were pretty; no…that wasn’t it. You were gorgeous, beautiful warm; the embodiment of everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t quite figure you out; curious as to how you were able to handle him, like a flame to wicker. You were all smiles, pretty lashes, soft lips, horrendous boasts of laughter; it made him feel warm and gooey; like honey stuck to the bottom of a teacup. He hated it. He hated how, in such a short amount of time you managed to wiggle your way into his life, sticking to him like a stubborn stain.

“You wanna celebrate Christmas with me?” You asked curiously, eyes staring at nothing in particular as you continued your pace. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, silence taking over as you finally looked up.

“-if you’re staying on campus I mean…I…I really don’t want to be alone this year” you chuckled nervously, scratching your cheek as you tried to bury yourself deeper into your coat.

“I could be a serial killer,” Katsuki replied, staring at you intently before you smiled, bright and amused.

“I would guess that if you were a serial killer, you would’ve already killed me considering how easily I seem to annoy you.” You smiled as katsuki scoffed shaking his head.

“What’s in it for me?”

“You speak as though celebrating Christmas is a chore.” You hummed.

“I’m not getting you anything,” Katsuki said simply as you shrugged, unbothered by the blond's apprehension.

“S’okay…I’m not asking you to” you chuckled as Bakugo rolled his eyes shaking his head, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. A comfortable silence elapsed the two, until katsuki finally spoke up, the gnawing question he had festering in the back of his throat.

“Why?” He whispered, the word being lost among the snowfall as you looked at him momentarily.

“Why what?” You hummed, as you watched Bakugos face turn a deep red.

“Why do you wanna celebrate Christmas with me?” He answered rather quickly, as you averted your gaze, pondering the question momentarily before smiling softly.

“I like you Bakugo.”

[aftgandotherbooks]

headcannon that Matt and Neil have art sundays where they have a pile of built up art equipment where they listen to music and do art together to destress

it started when Neil had a major panic attack after practice one Wednesday afternoon and ran for 3 hours straight without realising and everyone threw a giant search party to try and find him

no one wanted to admit how much it reminded them of Baltimore

so while Neil was laying on his bed recovering from the panic attack and the loss of feeling in his legs, Matt entered the room (Andrew sitting on the window bench having not left Neil’s since he was found on the sidewalk halfway to Columbia that night)

“hey buddy, I know you need to rest but I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping this weekend with me? I need to get some stuff and thought you might be interested to come along” Matt had said.

turns out, Matt wanted to get some acrylic paints at a small arts and crafts store five minutes away from campus to add to his growing collection (hidden under their bunk bed after Seth once found a watercolour paint set next to Matt’s bed and didn’t stop laughing and going on about how ‘girly’ art was).

Neil was overwhelmingly confused at the range of knowledge and understanding Matt had about the millions of types of colours, what types of brushes to use, what in the flying f**k is a painting palette knife??.

Matt- “Hey bud, can you grab me a tube of burnt umber oil paint?”

Neil- “A what amber?”

Matt- “ooooh I really want to try gauche, I heard it’s similar to watercolour but it’s so different”

Neil- “gu...ash? Gatch? Gwass?”

by the end of the shopping trip (two bags full of art supplies Matt insisted were for himself, but were really for his best buddy Neil and his fraying mental state) Neil was left with too many questions and a whole other perception of who he thought Matt was.

turns out, when Matt first got over his drug addiction, his mum sent him to weekly art classes for therapy and for Matt to use his hands in a way that is gentle and precise to counter the aggression he uses when learning to box. Matt stopped his weekly art sessions when he started university because he was too focused on not getting addicted to drugs again. 3 years later when seeing Neil starting to become overwhelmed with the lack of sleep from his nightmares, he thought that maybe art will help Neil as much as it helped Matt.

spoiler alert -> it did.

That Sunday when they got home, Matt dragged Neil to the small living room of the dorm Matt and Aaron now shared, placed a sheet of plastic on the floor (after throwing all the discarded clothes and shoes out of the way) and made Neil sit down beside it while he set a canvas on four small cups.

Matt explained acrylic pouring to Neil, showing him dozens of YouTube videos of tutorials and tips. They then mixed all the paints with the pouring medium. Matt made Neil choose the colours (Neil being the original one he is chose orange, black and a little brown like Andrew’s eyes, Matt added some gold to the final pouring cup as well for ✨aesthetic✨ purposes)

then the pouring begun. Matt’s insides slowly started coming apart while watching his always tense and alert best friend become absolutely transfixed on how the paint formed beautiful patterns and cells. It was like Neil’s anxiety was shut off for the hour they were making art.

Andrew also noticed how tranquil Neil had become compared to how he was just a few hours before when Neil went to their room that afternoon. He himself started to relax a little more knowing the one person who understood him more than anyone else had found something that can ease his anxiety in a healthy way.

Art Sunday’s became a regular part of Matt and Neil’s routine. As soon as the cousins, Neil and Kevin would come back from Columbia, Neil would head straight to Matt’s dorm where Matt would be waiting with a new art project set up.

Arts and crafts projects they’ve tried out:

-watercolour painting (Neil does not have the patience for the amount of layers needed, especially since he has a habit of never fully cleaning the brushes and his paintings always ending up a muddy brown colour)

-clay flower pot making (the first pot Neil made was in the shape of a fox, and it was actually really life-like. He gave it to Abby, who’s house may as well be a forest with the amount of house plants she owns Neil ends up loving clay pot making so much that he regularly makes flower pots for Abby who eventually starts giving some of them to Betsy since she does not have enough space left in her house)

-embroidery (Matt ended up having to call Abby for medical aide since his big burly hands got in the way and he accidentally stabbed himself with a needle when trying to make a cute rose design for Dan to hang in her dorm)

-Oil painting (Andrew refused to be anywhere close to Neil if he didn’t shower enough times to get the smell of turps out of his fingers because the idiot decided to ruin his hands by finger painting and using turps to soften some areas of the painting)

even after they were graduated, Matt and Neil still made time (an hour each Sunday) where they would video call and do fun arts and crafts which helped maintain their already strong friendship.

[frenchtipacrylics]

My Routine for Doll Skin✨

i absolutely love having a thorough skincare routine. it makes me feel like a scientist, haha. i unfortunately have bad genetics when it comes to skin, so no amount of “drink water”, “cut out dairy and sugar”, or “manage what you eat” will ever help improve my skin. i simply need an effective routine, and here’s what works best for me.

the morning

in the mornings, i usually prep my skin for the day. this means i use products that protect my skin from the UV rays, pollution, makeup, and other nasty stuff that it’ll come in contact with. 

cleansing: in the morning, i do not use a cleanser. i just rinse my face with warm water.

toner: i don’t use witch hazel or any other astringents; instead, i use toners that hydrate my skin instead of drying it out. i love the kikumasamune sake high moisture toner and the pyukang yul essence toner.

serums: during the day i need serums that will adequately prepare my skin for makeup. because i’m oily, i use the ordinary’s niacinamide + zinc serum since it is great at oil control. i also have a 1% salicylic acid serum that helps with oil control as well as lightly exfoliates my skin, making it smooth and clearing my pores so my makeup has a great base. if i have recently had any acne, i use either a vitamin c serum or an alpha arbutin serum to clear up any dark spots. for those, i like the ordinary and the inkey list. 

moisturizer: finally, to lock in everything i put on my face i like to use a moisturizer. even if i have oily skin, i use a moisturizer or else i’m just drying out my skin. i use light creams or gels. my favorites are the ordinary’s natural moisturizing factors, the primera watery cream, and the iunik centella gel cream.

spf: every morning, my skincare routine ends with me putting on sunscreen. when using chemical exfoliation, it’s pertinent that you use an spf afterwards because if not then it undoes all your hard work; however, even when you aren’t using chemical exfoliants you always need to wear spf because sun damage makes your skin tone uneven and you obviously don’t want skin cancer. yes, even if you are darkskinned, when you’re inside if you have sun coming in through your windows, during the winter, when it’s raining. it’s also important to use spf 30 or above and be sure to reapply every two hours. for the initial application, my favorite sunscreen is the purito green level if i’m not going to be in the sun all day. for reapplication over my makeup, i use the supergoop spf spray.

at night

my skincare routine for the nighttime is focused on barrier repair and hydration. this is when i use products like chemical exfoliants because using them makes the skin more sensitive to harmful uv rays from the sun. i like to layer hydration here in order to balance out my morning routine which isn’t very hydrating. 

oil cleansing: i make sure to double cleanse by using an oil cleanser first and then following up with a traditional cleanser. if you wear makeup, have oily skin, or wear spf (and you’re supposed to wear spf every single day!!!), you need to double cleanse or you’re still leaving some makeup and spf on your face, which can cause acne. i like to use the farmacy cherry balm, but i also like the oat balm from inkey list.

traditional cleansing: for my traditional cleanser, i use gel cleansers because i have really oily skin. i like to dry cleanse, which is basically rubbing the cleanser onto your skin without water for about 30 seconds before wetting my hands and continuing to cleanse my face with water for the remaining 30 seconds. yes, i wash my face for 60 seconds and so should you. we’re supposed to wash our hands for at least 30 seconds to truly clean them, so why should our faces be any different? my favorite is the glow recipe blueberry bounce gentle cleanser, but i also like the simple micellar gel wash. i remove all my cleansers with a warm, wet cloth.

chemical exfoliation: this is truly how i get my skin together. i’m a bit advanced when it comes to chemical exfoliation, so unless you’re used to it do not copy me. your skin will hate you. bha 2 days a week, retinol/differin once a week, and azelaic acid on alternating days = doll skin, period. this combo gets rid of my skin congestion, clears my pores, smooths out my skin, and gets rid of any pimples with the quickness. i use the paula’s choice 2% bha, differin, and the ordinary’s azelaic acid (or paula’s choice if i want to splurge a little).

toner: again! i’ll admit it, i put my skin through a lot as someone who wears a full face of makeup everyday and has oily skin. however, it’s important to not be constantly stripping your skin of moisture. every other product in my nighttime routine is focused on keeping my skin barrier in tact and healthy. some people like putting their toner on a cotton round and wiping it over their face to get off excess dirt, but i cleanse my skin thoroughly so that isn’t needed. i always pour a bit of toner into my hands and press it into my damp skin like a serum.

essences: this is literally just for extra hydration. essences are like toners, but they can be thicker and are always hydrating, so they feel more luxurious. my favorites are the hadalabo premium hyaluronic solution and the cosrx snail mucin essence.

serums: at night, i only use hydrating serums. i love the ordinary’s niacinamide + zinc serum at night because niacinamide not only helps with oil control but it also helps with barrier repair. i also like to use their marine hyaluronics serum. my favorite barrier repair serum is the purito centella buffet serum; as soon as i put that on, any irritation is immediately soothed. krave’s great barrier relief and paula’s choice omega complex serum are both great if you’re willing to spend a little more.

moisturizer: because i don’t have to worry about keeping my makeup on all day, i tend to go for heavier moisturizers at night. during this time, i only use moisturizers that have ingredients formulated for barrier repair, such as ceramides, centella extract, and squalane oil. i use the one kind dream cream and the cerave moisturizer in a tub.

occlusive: an occlusive is what i put on my face during the night so i wake up with soft, plump skin and don’t suffer from tewl, or trans-epidermic water loss. if you wake up with skin on the dry side, you should probably put on an occlusive at night. i used to use a facial oil, but i found that it wasn’t occlusive enough for me. now i use the cerave healing ointment, but plain vaseline works well, too.

weekly

here are the things that aren’t needed more than once a week for me. these are all either addressing issues that i don’t have as often, for special occasions, or could even be detrimental if done too often.

face shaving: i do not do at-home dermaplaning, but i do use an eyebrow razor to tackle my mustache area and in-between my brows. i also shape/tweeze my eyebrows and tweeze wherever else needed at this step.

masks: depending on where i’m going or what my goal is, i usually use either a sheet mask, a hydrogel mask, or a clay mask. sheet masks are honestly just hydrating serums, and i like to do these in the winter when i’m feeling especially dry. i use hydrogel masks tend to target certain areas such as the under eyes or lips. when i need my makeup to last a very long time or i’m about to go on a really important event, i use clay masks to completely mattify my face. when removing clay masks, i like to use a hydrating spray (my toner in a spray bottle) to make the mask wet again so i don’t tug on my skin as much during the removal process. 

spot treating: i don’t get pimples often anymore, but when i do i like to get rid of them asap. i don’t pop my pimples because it’s unsanitary for a number of reasons, but i do understand the urge to pick at them. that’s why i put a spot treatment on them. i use zapzyt which is a 10% benzoyl peroxide acne treatment gel or the sulfur spot treatment from face reality. if my pimple accidentally does “pop”, i clean the area and quickly put an acne patch on it. i love the peace out acne dots with salicylic acid and the hydro-stars from star-face. 

lip care: especially now that winter is coming up, it is important to not have dry, nasty, cracked lips. i use a lip scrub to exfoliate all the dead skin off, then apply an overnight lip mask. the lip scrub i use is the seraphine botanicals orange + cream lip polish. my favorite lip masks are the tarte sea jelly glaze lip masks and the laneige lip sleeping masks. obviously, throughout the day i wear lip balm and while i really love the jack black intense therapy lip balm and the dior lip glow balm, i only use vaseline now for medical reasons.

[mrs-gucci]

Casting Couch {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! I was driving home from work the other day and this idea just suddenly took over my entire thought process. so, naturally, I went ahead and wrote it up :)

warnings (what you see here is what you’ll get!): smut. the enemy of my enemy is my ally (with benefits). p in v sex. protected sex. rough oral sex. cum- swallowing.

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex.

word count: 3.2k

charlie’s taglist peeps! {charlie currently doesn’t have any taglist peeps} my general taglist peeps! @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​  @gildedstarlight​ @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy​ @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1​ @babbushka​ @safarigirlsp​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)

Two Years Ago.

“Y/N...she fucking did it again.” Nicole says as she barges through the door of hers and Charlie’s shared brownstone. “She got the fucking TV gig.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow a bit before looking up at his wife with an empathetic expression, setting the notebook and pen he’d been using down on the coffee table.

“Bummer. I really thought you had it in the bag.” He says, elbows on his thighs as he leans forward a bit, folding his hands. “There will be other roles; I wouldn’t worry too much. You win some, you lose some; that’s how it goes in this industry. You’ve taken plenty of roles from her.”

She sighs, nodding. “Yeah, I know, but this one I was excited about. And I really thought I had it, too. It just stung a little extra, you know?”

Her husband nods, patting the seat next to him on the couch. “C’mere, sit with me. We’ll have a glass of wine.”

Nicole gives somewhat of a dreadful grimace, a clear sign she really wasn’t interested. Charlie’s been noticing this for the past few months, her disinterest in being with him as much as she usually was, but he figured it was just her being tired. She’s been doing a lot of odd jobs to make some ends meet lately, so it’s probably a result of that.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a twang of longing sadness in his voice.

She nods. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go lay down for a bit.”

Charlie just nods, picking back up his notebook and pen, continuing to review and add to his notes from the day. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” He calls after her. “I love you.”

She only offers him a small smile over her shoulder in return before emerging into their bedroom, closing the door immediately behind her. 

Present Day.

It feels strange, holding auditions for a female lead. He hasn’t had to do so in almost a decade;  just yet another reminder of how much of his life has changed just in the past year.

The divorce had been painful, stressful, and he was honestly more relieved than anything when it finally came to a close, despite it not really turning out the way he’d hoped for in terms of custody over Henry. 

Luckily, he’s dove deeper into his one true love, directing, as a way to cope with the loss of everything he’d worked so hard to build for himself; the marriage, the 'American dream’ family and home he wished he’d had growing up.

Now, after six months of weekly therapy appointments and keeping himself busy with work, he’s feeling more like the old Charlie he was back before everything went to shit. Actually, he’s feeling like an even better version of that Charlie, the best version of himself there’s been in a while, perhaps even before he met and married Nicole.

The first audition comes onstage and Charlie can’t decide what’s worse, her off-pitch singing or her monotonous speaking voice. 

God, this was going to be a long fucking day.

-

You’d heard through the grapevine that the famed Broadway director had moved here to LA, and that he’d divorced his witch of a wife, Nicole. 

Nicole Barber had been your biggest rival ever since you swiped that first movie role away from her. She hates you, and you don’t particularly like her, either, thus your rivalry began. And it was pretty heated, too; the two of you were always trying to one-up each other.

It really was a back-and-forth battle, her swiping roles from you, you returning the favor; it was a game, to put it simply. Although lately, you’ve been getting more roles than she has, not that you’re complaining, and there’s a part of you that hopes she quits the business for good.

Word got around that Charlie is heading his first LA Broadway production and what better way to hit Nicole close to home than to show up at her ex-husband’s auditions? Even better, what if you got the female lead in her ex-husband’s production? Oh god, that would be fantastic, not only for the rivalry but also for your career.

You’ve been looking to branch out into more theater roles, and this is as good an opportunity as to dip your toe in the theater world water. Plus, you’re not necessarily complaining about having the chance to look at and work with Charlie Barber every day...

So you prepared your piece of dialogue and a section of one of the choice songs, heading over to the theater fifteen minutes before your set audition time. Your knee bounces as you sit in the waiting area, eyes running over your script and lyrics sheet one final time, solidifying it all in your memory.

Your name is called a few minutes later and you head out onto the stage, handing over your headshot and qualifications resume. The agent hands over your profile to the handsome director, but he doesn’t even really look at it, already knowing exactly who you are. A small smirk grazes his lips as he flips to a new page of his notebook, clicking the top of his pen.

“Whenever you’re ready, Miss Y/N.”

After you’re finished, Charlie scribbles one final thing in his notebook before looking up at you. His eyes trail over your figure for a moment, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Would you be comfortable coming back for a more intimate audition later this week? Maybe, Friday at four? I would like to get to know you better, see if you meet all of my... qualifications.”

The look in his eye tells you all you need to know about the true motivations behind his question. You nod, biting your lip.

“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Mr. Barber.” You purr.

He shifts in his seat suddenly and quickly crosses one leg over the other before opening up your folder, handing the top sheet to his assistant.

“Diane, go ahead and have Miss Y/N put down all of her contact information.” His gaze never leave you as he speaks to the timid-seeming young woman. “Make sure she gives her personal cell number.”

You pull a pen from your bag on the stage, clicking it open before Diane hands you the paper. As you write every means of contact you can think of, starting with your cell number, you playfully bite the end of the pen and tap it against your bottom lip, something that certainly keeps the already attentive director’s full attention.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Barber.” Your tone is innocent-sounding, but your gaze is anything but. It sends a chill down Charlie’s spine. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t.” A small tug at one corner of his lip accompanies his response. “See you soon, Miss Y/N.”

You offer him a nod.

“Looking forward to it.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In preparation for your upcoming...meeting with Charlie, you take a quick trip to the nearest intimates store, picking up a pretty little lace bra and panty set. Your lingerie wardrobe is long overdue for a bit of sprucing up, anyway.

When the time comes, you slip the fresh lace garments on before putting on your planned outfit, a cute-but-subtly-sexy low cut romper. You put on a light face of makeup, purely for professionalism’s sake, then head out with a small bag which contains various personal items as well as your script and composition page.

He’s not in his backstage office when you arrive, but he comes in a couple minutes later, a strong stench of cigarette smoke trailing behind him as he walks by your chair.

“I apologize for the delay. You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

You shake your head as he takes a seat behind the ratty oak desk, shifting a few small stacks of papers around on the heavily scratched surface.

“No, no I wasn’t waiting long.”

He nods, then folds his hands atop the desk, eyes flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, his eyes dart down to where your cleavage creeps out of your low-cut top.

“You’ve got the part.” Charlie says with a small smile. “You’re by far the best and most qualified audition we had yesterday, and I like the way you carry yourself. You’re exactly the type of person I like working with. Part’s yours if you want it.”

You’re overcome with joy, a wide smile spreading itself across your lips. “I’d love to be a part of this production, Mr. Barber. I’m really excited to get to work with you and the rest of the crew.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to hear it.” He nods, smile widening when as he processes your acceptance. His delighted expression falls after a few moments, replaced by one much more salacious.

“Now that we’ve gotten that part out of the way...I think you know why I called a meeting of such, uh, privacy.”

You smirk softly, shifting around in your seat slightly. “I believe I do.”

His feet plant on the ground as he pushes the rolling office chair out from under the desk, standing up and walking around the desk to tower over you. 

“Before anything happens, though, I want you to know that whether or not you do this with me will not affect my casting decision. Even if you decline, you still have the part.”

You nod before standing, quickly and swiftly, stepping forward to press yourself flush against him.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

Your hands rest on his chest, neck craning slightly to look up at him. “Just kiss me, will you?”

He laughs, massive hand moving to cradle the back of your head before he bends down and connects your lips in a passionate kiss. There’s nothing tender or gentle about this embrace, it’s all tongue and teeth, raw lust coursing between your two bodies.

“Couch.” His voice is soft but husky.

“Unzip me first?” You ask, turning around so he can unzip you. He does, then his hands slide down to your hips and pushes you towards the leather couch tucked in the corner of his office.

The material squeaks when you’re laid down on top of it, head resting comfortably on the cushy fabric accent pillow as he climbs on top of you. He presses his hips forward while he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and plants kisses on the skin there.

Your eyes widen as his impressive bulge rubs up against your inner thigh and you quickly wonder how in the world you’ll be able to take him. His crooked teeth scrape over the taut muscles in your neck while his hands pull the backs of your romper down over your shoulders.

His hands grab and grope your breasts beneath where they rest in your nice bra, one you wore just for him, and your back arches slightly up off the cushions with a soft sigh. 

A small smile crosses his expression, teeth sinking gently into your neck. “I like the little noises you make for me, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You smirk, running your hands through his hair. “Then I bet you’ll like my moans, too. If you think you can draw them out of me, that is.”

He laughs softly, sucking and licking at at the place his teeth have just abused. “Is that a challenge?”

“Well, it’s more like an invitation to prove yourself, but ‘challenge’ is also a good word for it.”

Charlie pulls away with a smirk, shaking his head as he sits back on his haunches and begins to unbuckle his belt.

“Brat.”

Once he’s undone his pants and pulled them down enough to expose himself to you, he leans down once more and pulls your romper the rest of the way off, leaving you completely bare, minus your undergarments. His eyes roam your figure for a moment before he dips a hand beneath the patch of black fabric nestled between your thighs.

Your breath hitches as his fingertips swipe over your erect clit, giving it a few little circles before yanking the panties off your hips and down your ankles, tossing them down alongside your previously-discarded romper.

His eyes widen in realization, cheeks flushing pink.

“Do you have any, um, protection?”

You smirk, nodding as you sit up and pat his chest. “Indeed, I do.”

He crawls off of you and you walk over to your purse, grabbing a condom from the mini-stash you keep in your wallet, the one you replenished just minutes before you left the house this afternoon. He takes it from you and pinches the tip, rolling it down his shaft. For a moment, you’re worried that it isn’t going to fit, but he rolls it on with little issue.

His hips press forward, then, entering you slowly but steadily with a soft grunt. You whine as your insides stretch out around him, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair.  “S-Shit.”

“You’re really fucking tight, jesus.” He growls between gritted teeth, jaw screwed shut as his hips begin to move. “I haven’t fffucked anyone in a while, Y/N, so I can’t guarantee that I’ll last very long.”

You nod, softly. “It’s alright, Charlie; it’s been a little while for muh--me, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut and your face begins to scrunch up with each time his fat cockhead brushes up against your cervix. His pace increases after a minute or so, a consistent slap-slap-slap noise now echoing off the drywall with each snap of his hips. 

“You’ve got a nice little pussy, you know that? Always knew you would be, too, knew you’d be a good little cccocksleeve.”

You moan shakily as he adjusts his position, towering over you and pinning your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. Your body begins to bounce, tits, thighs and tummy jiggling each time he thrusts in. 

He’s starting to sweat, a few dark hairs sticking to his dimly-glowing forehead, more and more accumulating there as his hair rocks back and forth in time with the rhythm of his hips.

“Touch yourself, now, rrrub your little clit.” His voice is getting shaky as he draws nearer to climax.

Nodding, your hand slides down between your joined bodies until your fingertips settle onto the small bundle of nerves. The hand that’s still weaved in Charlie’s locks clenches and he lets out a sudden deep growl, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Ooooh, Charlie.” You moan, hips lifting and gyrating against both his cock and your fingers.

“God, fffuck I love this cunt.” A vulgar squelching sound knits itself within the quilt of your salacious symphony. “Wrapped around my cock like a vice, gonna pull the fucking cum right out of it. Swear you get tighter each time I push back in...christ, I’m not gonna last.”

Your fingers circle your clit faster, setting a desperate pace, one that almost matches his quick and sloppy thrusts. You’re close now, too, and it doesn’t take much longer for your orgasm to hit.

You cream around him with a long moan and a string of various other noises, with a few profanities thrown in as well. The product of your release coats his shaft in a pearlescent sheen, dripping down his ball-sack soon enough. 

The sensations your climax creates around Charlie forces him to pull away almost immediately after, quickly yanking the condom off and onto his office floor, squeezing the base of his flaming red length. 

His hand seizes your jaw tightly, thumb pressing down on your tongue, prying your mouth open. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth and shove my cum down your throat, and you’re gonna take it all, isn’t that right?”

You’re nodding instantly, slacking your jaw to open even further in preparation for his upcoming intrusion. He smirks.

“Good. Now, on your knees.”

He sits down where you once laid, lazily pumping his throbbing length as you get into position between his spread legs. He pulls your hair up into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, then lines you up with his cock and eases your mouth down onto him.

“Thaaaaaat’s it, oh, gooooood girl.”

You start gagging about three quarters of the way down his shaft, but he still keeps pushing until you’ve got the whole thing in your mouth. Your jaw’s already getting sore as he begins thrusting upwards, fucking your mouth. 

Tears swell in your eyes and begin to spill down your cheeks the more he goes, mascara surely ruined and running down your face. The sight only arouses him further, a low groan rumbling through his puffed chest.

He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, to stave off his orgasm for as long as he can manage, but soon he finds it next to impossible to hold back. His bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as his length begins to twitch, balls drawing up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna--”

You taste and feel the salty ropes shooting down your throat before he can even finish his warning.

“Ah, fffuuuuck.” His head falls back against the couch cushions, hips bucking gently as each bit of release is spilled into your mouth. His grip on your head relaxes after he’s finished, cock softening while he catches his breath and re-grounds himself in reality.

Your chest heaves as full airflow returns to your lungs, knees and jaw aching a bit sore from their exertion. You grab your underwear from where they lay discarded on top of your romper, putting them back on before standing up on somewhat shaky legs. 

Charlie also redresses, standing and straightening himself out as you do the same. 

“Mind zipping me back up?” You ask, turning around again. 

He pulls the zipper up your back until it’s at the end of its tracks, then steps up behind you, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Thank you.”

A soft smile grazes your lips. “No ‘thanks’ needed; the sweet taste of revenge and spite is payment enough.”

He laughs quietly.

“Well, I’ll certainly be available, should you ever need a little replenishing of those feelings.”

“Mr. Barber, you wouldn’t be saying that because you’d like to see me naked again, now would you?” Your eyebrows raise and you look over your shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He laughs again, blushing a bit. “Uh, yeah, sure, I'd like that a lot. But I’d also like to see you, um...not naked, fully clothed, maybe at a restaurant in the city for dinner sometime? I totally get it if you’re not interested, it’s not a big deal if you don’t want to...”

Holy shit, he’s asking you out on a date. Well, he’s trying to, at least.

You laugh, cheeks warming at his proposition.

“Sure thing. I just accepted this new job, though, so I’ll have to get back to you about my availability...”

Charlie smiles, shoving his hands down in his khaki pockets. “I’m sure your new boss would be more than willing to accommodate. He’s a pretty cool guy, or so I’ve heard. Handsome, too.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds like you have a reliable informant.” You turn around as you laugh softly, grabbing your bag off the chair before stepping up in front of him. Your lips plant a quick peck on his, hands resting on his broad chest. “See you soon.”

He nods, biting his lip to hold back his big, goofy smile.

“Can’t wait.”