#work has been hectic lately and i have zero time or energy
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ichore · 6 months ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/ichcor/752231695959408640?source=share 🎤‼️⁉️❗️❓
I imagine Judge!Reader AU in a way that very similar to Gege's when it comes to Higuruma, but obviously my Kento is a bit different.
Although Kento tries to keep it a secret, he hates being a lawyer; he hates that he didn't stay in finance in university, that he's chasing that little bit of happiness every single day that he feels when his clients wire the money for his services, and he hates that he has Higuruma on the other side and you in between.
Higuruma is more obvious to you when it comes to his beliefs and emotions: no matter how many times you tell him to leave the hopeless and helpless behind, he just can't help himself. His bank account empties just as quickly as his energy, nearly making zero money from his cases. "Pro bono? That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard" his thoughts tell him time and time again, torturing himself as to why he is the way he is. Except when he's with you.
When you enter his bathroom, the mix of hot mist and cigarette smoke makes you cough a little as you make your way to open the window. Finding him fully clothed in the filled bathrub surprises you, but you know him long enough his tortured look in his eyes explain everything you need to know. His kind heart is ruining this man, and perhaps you do the same.
Lady Justice is what Higuruma calls you; always factual, always impartial and sometimes even so ruthless when needed. He's wanted you from the second he first laid eyes on you at campus, and he wanted to be you too.
So when you decide to take away his cigarette and your lips wrap around its wet butt, he almost looks at you like a lost puppy with those dark circles under his tired eyes. You take the tiny wooden stool to sit next to the bathtub, close enough that he can lean out and rest his head on your thighs as one of his wet hands gently stroke your calf. You both stay silent as you run your fingers through his wet, raven-black locks while finishing the cigarette.
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loverlylight · 6 months ago
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Hey, not sure if I'm gonna be on today, but I have a three day weekend and only a few concrete plans so probably at some point! Things have been incredibly hectic over the past... Quite a while but especially like two weeks or so, and this is the first day I haven't had work or something I needed to do right away so my body has zero energy and is like it's hard enough to be awake right now, there's no way you're getting out of bed any time soon.
It's also the anniversary of my... I'm still not sure what to call it. I stopped myself at the last minute so I don't know if it's accurate to call it a suicide attempt, but it was something at any rate. And I just... I dunno. I'm doing a lot better than I was this time last year, the bad periods can still get pretty bad, but now I have good periods again, you know? I'm making friends again for the first time in ages (and I gotta say, I didn't realize how much I missed having people I actually had something in common with and felt comfortable being myself around?), and I'm engaging with reality more and forcing myself to actually do things that make me happy (& sometimes it isn't even forced which, wow, what a concept) and still just... things can be rough. I'm still super sensitive to "oh no, what if I'm doing something Wrong and it causes someone Harm or Discomfort" so I just... have to get better with actually believing that as long as I try to do the right thing and if/when I do mess up try my best to make up for it?
Anyway, feels weird that I'm gonna be alone for most of the day, and that it's my first weekend in the apartment by myself so it's very quiet. I'm visiting my siblings later on today, but we ended up pushing the visit out to pretty late in the afternoon because my brother's sleep schedule is causing him trouble again. So gonna do that and go grocery shopping afternoon and evening, hoping to make more progress on my Curtwen week fics but given how exhausted I am that might wait until tomorrow.
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rocorambles · 4 years ago
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Jealousy
Pairing: Atsumu x Reader (Main), Osamu x Reader (Side)
Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Rape/Non-Con, Misuse of Duct Tape, Non-Con Bondage, Forced Breeding, Forced Impregnation, Delusional Mindset
Summary: Atsumu is determined to prove that he’s the better twin for you.    
The first time Atsumu meets you he doesn’t remember you so much as he gets stuck on the fact that Osamu is dating someone. Osamu is fucking dating someone and Atsumu is still here single and alone in his late twenties, not a girl anywhere even in sight. It makes him livid as he stares at the identical face gently smiling at you, affectionately holding your hand, looking so damn happy and content. 
What does he have that Atsumu doesn’t? A successful food chain? Cool. But is he a pro-athlete? A medal winning Olympic athlete? One of the best setters in the country? In the world? It’s infuriating to think about and as much as Atsumu loves volleyball, even he dreams of love, marriage, a family of his own late at night when he’s alone on a hotel bed, only Sakusa’s breathing from the other bed in the room keeping him company. 
And those thoughts consume him long after he bids farewell to Osamu and you and suddenly the MSBY Jackals are in an uproar as every team member takes turns being sexiled by their blond setter when they’re off at their away games, as Atsumu nonchalantly strolls into the locker rooms to prep for practice, back littered with scratch marks that Bokuto tries to shield from Hinata’s eyes when the orange haired athlete curiously asks when Atsumu got a cat. 
Girl after girl walks in and out of his bed, his life. Most never lasting more than a night, a few returning for a couple more rounds in the bedsheets, one even manages to interest him enough to grab a cup of coffee with. But it’s the same verdict every time. He’s good enough to fool around with and he’s great in bed, but Miya Atsumu is not husband material, not when he’s already married to volleyball. 
The rejection only fuels his inner turmoil and the green eyed monster inside of him grows and grows, festering and spreading throughout him the more he stops attempting his futile attempts and instead turns his energy to loitering around Osamu and you, inviting himself over for dinners after practice, trying his hand at helping you in the kitchen for brunch on the weekends, crashing in your guest bedroom to the point that Osamu and you gift him a spare key to your shared home. 
Neither of you think much of it, Osamu joking to you privately that this is just Atsumu being the needy emotional brother he really is while you’re just glad to be able to get to know Osamu’s family better. So none of you notice how brown eyes inquisitively trail after the both of you, watching how the two of you seamlessly work out both your hectic lives, never letting the long hours at your job or Osamu’s restaurant get in the way of your relationship, always directing a warm smile or gaze at the other despite how obviously exhausted or far away from a good mood you’re in. 
And Atsumu lets himself believe that this could be his as he hungrily stares at the way you gently caress his brother’s hand, the affection in your gaze as you tenderly kiss him on the lips, the playful wink you give his twin when you tell him you’re getting ready for bed. He lets himself dream that it’s him who you direct those loving gazes to as you cheerfully greet him in the morning, handing him a coffee made just the way he likes it, placing a plate full of delicious piping hot food in front of him. He lets his hand wander down his shorts at night, straining to hear every detail, every decibel of your moans as Osamu and you make love at night, closing his eyes and stroking his cock as he imagines it’s him who’s forcing those beautiful cries from your mouth. 
But it’s not all a picture perfect paradise and Atsumu carefully listens in, alerted by the raising voices he hears through the walls as more and more time passes by. He’d noticed the growing tension in the house, noticed how the two of you were less affectionate, almost awkwardly shuffling around each other when both of you were home from work these past few months. But he couldn’t think of what could have caused both of you to act so strangely, so suddenly, when everything had seemed so swell. 
Curiosity has him placing his ear on the wall and he winces when he hears you shout, anger and hurt in your voice that makes his heart clench painfully, asking when Osamu was going to propose, telling his brother how you’re sick of waiting, how you want to get married and have kids soon. Something shattering inside of him when your voice becomes small and hesitant. 
“I thought that’s what you wanted too, Osamu. Isn’t that why we decided to start living together?”
He expects his brother to leap at the opportunity, to reassure you, yes, absolutely yes, we can get married right away. He knows that if their positions were switched, that’s what he would be doing. But his jaw drops in disbelief, morphing into a scowl when Osamu pleads for you to calm down, to be patient. 
“I do want that. But just not right now.”
“If not now, when? We’re not getting any younger, Osamu.” 
“But my chain is in talks of expanding and there’s so much going on. I just don’t have time-”
There’s a heavy silence as Osamu is quick to snap his mouth shut and Atsumu knows he’s cursing himself for the slip of his tongue, already knows the next words that are going to come out of your mouth, words he himself is all too familiar with from his own past failed relationships. 
“You just don’t have time for us? Me?” 
“That’s not what I meant…”
But it’s too late and Atsumu flinches when he hears loud angry movement, Osamu’s voice imploring you to calm down and stop what you’re doing to no avail as you stomp out of the house, slamming the front door behind you as you make your way to a friend’s house to spend the night apart. 
No one speaks of that night after you return to the house the next day and the three of you continue as normal. Or at least as normal as you can be after an unresolved disagreement that your relationship ultimately hinges around continues ticking like a time bomb in everyone’s minds. And it finally counts down to zero when Osamu packs his bags and plants a cold chaste kiss on your lips before heading to the airport and making his way to seal the deal on the restaurant expansion that’s taken over his entire life. 
Maybe it’s Atsumu’s fault that the two of you are drunk out of your minds, sprawled out on the living room floor. Scratch that. It’s definitely Atsumu’s fault and he drunkenly smiles at how out of it you are, heart warming at the giddy genuine smile spread across your face, happiness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen ever since that argument Osamu and you had. And oh, he didn’t mean to say that out loud and he panics, quickly sobering up when your smile falls at his words, eyes glazed in reminiscence as you think of that night. 
Atsumu isn’t known for his patience, but he waits, not uttering a single word, not moving an inch as you open yourself up to him, telling him your hopes and dreams that so closely match his own of a loving relationship, marriage, family, sharing about the argument Osamu and you had (unknowing of the fact that Atsumu already knows far more than he should). But when you frustratedly laugh at yourself, asking him rhetorically if you’re just being silly and naive, if you’re just a grown woman trying to fulfill a little girl’s childish dream, you’re stunned by the fierce denial from the blonde athlete determinedly staring at you.
“No. You’re not being silly or naive. ‘Samu’s being the idiot. Any man would be lucky and proud to have you as his wife and to create a family with you.”
Those words resonate with you, linger in your mind, further branded into your memory by the sheer sincerity Atsumu drowned them in. And maybe that’s why you find it impossible to play house anymore, find it impossible to live a forced and fake lie when you’re not truly happy anymore. It’s hard, heartbreakingly so, to part ways with the silver haired man when he still holds a part of your heart, but it’s for the best. Why continue when neither of you are on the same page in the long run? Why waste more precious years when you can actively work towards your desired future with someone else who wants the same things as you? 
It’s logical. It makes sense. And yet when you meet up with Atsumu at his apartment for dinner one night to catch up a few months or so after the break up you’re still doubting your decision. 
You had been surprised the blond setter had been so adamant about keeping in touch even after his brother and you separated, but if you’re honest, he’s surprisingly sweet and caring, someone you consider a true friend. So as awkward as it might seem to outsiders, the two of you remain in close contact and you happily agree to his invite when both your busy schedules finally match up. 
But as much as you like Atsumu, the two of you really need to stop drinking so much when you see each other and you let out a cry of frustration when your eyes immediately tear up when Atsumu casually asks how you’re doing as both of you sprawl out on his couch, trying to wave away his worried face as he hovers far too close to you, telling him it’s just the alcohol making you more emotional than usual. 
And you still blame all the drinks he had generously kept refilling for you for the way you sob and cling onto him as he wraps you in a tight hug, telling him how you worry all the time about whether or not you made the right decision to break up with Osamu, whether or not you’re ever going to find someone else, ever going to get married, ever going to have that dream romance you’ve always wanted, ever going to have the happy full family you’ve always yearned for. 
It all comes out of you so easily. But everything with Atsumu has always come easy and you don’t think much of it, finding comfort in his solid presence as he continues to hold you, letting him readjust and find a comfortable position-
You scramble to separate from him when lips tenderly meet yours, limbs flailing as you shove the man away from you, eyes comically wide open as you stare agape at Atsumu. 
“What are you- We can’t- No no no. All of this is wrong. This would KILL Osamu-”
Something inside of Atsumu snaps when he hears his brother’s name from your lips. Even after all this time, you’re still thinking of him? You still care about him? When the better twin is right in front of your fucking face? 
He doesn’t even register he’s shouting those questions in your face, barely registering your terrified eyes as you try to shrink away from him. But your movement of pulling away from him snaps him back to reality and reflexes has his hand twisting in your hair, grabbing you by your roots, fury making him numb to the way you desperately claw at his grip as he drags you to his bedroom. 
You’re too focused on soothing your aching skull when he finally releases you by throwing you onto his bed and pitiful tears stream down your face as you gingerly hold your head, ignorant of how the athlete is rummaging through his closet. In hindsight you’ll wonder why you didn’t try to run while his back was turned, although you already know the answer. This is just Atsumu in one of his moods. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He’ll apologize in just a second. Those are the thoughts fleeting through your mind amidst the sore ache Atsumu has left behind. 
But a warning bell rings relentlessly inside of you as you finally look up when you sense him approaching you, a thick roll of silver duct tape in his hands. 
Had Atsumu always looked so...intimidating?
You try to fight back as you’re suddenly pinned to the bed by a muscular body, flailing and thrashing as calloused hands hold your arms above your hand, tightly wrapping your wrists together, looping extra lengths of the tape around the headboard, securely fastening your arms up and out of the way. But it’s useless, pathetic really, although Atsumu thinks there’s something adorable about how hard you’re trying, only to be easily batted away by his much stronger body as he tears off your clothes and bends your knees, taping your calves to your thighs, one side at a time until both your legs are bound. 
And then there’s silence and stillness other than your wriggling tied form as Atsumu sits back and admires the view of your naked body, reality so much more lucious and gorgeous than he had ever imagined. You struggle against your tight restraints, recoiling as brown eyes leer at you, ravenously devouring the sight of your heaving breasts, raking down your figure before finally landing on your bare pussy on full display as his hands spread your bound legs on either side of you, palms searing your inner thighs with their unwanted warmth as he holds you open. 
One day he won’t need the resilient tape to hold you down and keep you still. One day you’ll let him have you of your own free will. One day you’ll see that he was always the one for you. But he can’t help but feel that there’s something breathtaking about how vulnerable and pretty you are, laid out for him like a wrapped present, something filthily attractive about how striking the silver stripes are against your skin. 
One day he won’t need the resilient tape...but that doesn’t mean he'll stop using it. 
You shudder as he trails his fingers over the duct tape, grinning at you all the while. 
“Can’t have you moving too much if I’m going to breed you. You’ll make all my cum spill out of you.”
He tsks when you frantically struggle at his words, pathetic begs and pleads spilling from your lips as dread fills you from learning exactly what Atsumu has planned for you and suddenly you’re all too aware of just how exposed you are, how tight the front of his pants look as his erection presses against the fabric, how far too close he is to your most intimate part. And you sob as he leans on top of you, pressing his toned body against yours, something hard pressing against your bare pussy as he captures your lips in a kiss to silence you. 
“I thought you would be more thankful considering how you were practically in my arms begging me for kids not even a hour ago. And now I’m here ready to give you what you want and you’re making such a fuss.” 
He rolls his eyes, scoffing as you only sob even harder, body shaking and trembling, sniveling as you stare up at him with teary eyes, begging him to stop. 
“Oh shut up. What? Are you worried about the order of things? Worried I’ll just knock you up and leave you alone? Don’t be stupid. I’ll make sure to put a ring on your finger and marry you after this. Who cares about the order of things when the end result is the same.” 
Your mouth opens and shuts a few times, unsure where to even begin telling him just how wrong his reasoning is, unsure how to even process his words. Ring? Marry? What-
But thoughts fly out of your head when a hungry mouth suddenly descends on your breasts, harshly sucking a nipple between wet lips, fingers roughly twisting and pulling at your other nipple and you wail at the jolt of sudden stimulation, too focused on the tongue lapping at your nipples and lances of arousal swirling inside of you to notice how his free hand is shoving his pants and boxers down and off. 
You hate how quick you are to melt into the delirious pleasure, body craving for the touch of another, to be brought to new heights by another after being left to your own devices for the past few months and you can feel your pussy clench and throb, feeling so exposed and empty, practically begging to be stuffed full as slick begins to form between your legs. And as if Atsumu can hear your body’s silent cry for more, he begins to push the tip of his cock inside of you and your back arches, mouth instinctively opening as he takes his time, pressing past your tight opening, slipping further and further inside of you until he’s finally fully sheathed inside of you, letting your body adjust to him as he continues licking and sucking on your breasts, groaning as he feels your tight walls clamp around him with every move of his mouth. 
Atsumu is not known for his patience, but he tries his damn best to take it as slow as he bearably can for you, dragging his cock back and forth against your gummy walls, constantly adjusting the angle of his hips with every stroke until you’re crying out, and he smirks triumphantly, memorizing the exact position and angle that has you seeing stars as he continuously hits that spongy spot inside of you. And all it takes is for his hand to slide between the two of you and gently circle your clit as he continues his steady assault to have you breaking to pieces underneath him, garbled versions of his name escaping your mouth as your orgasm washes over you in heavy tall waves, his own release joining with yours as your pussy convulses and milks him of his sticky white liquid. 
As post-coital bliss disintegrates, shame and relief flood through you, shame for enjoying it, relief that this ordeal is finally over and you wait. Wait for him to remove the tape. Wait for him to pull out of you. Grimacing as he affectionately nuzzles you and litters your face with kisses. But you panic, pure fear flooding through you when you feel his cock twitching inside of you once more, growing inside of you again. 
“You didn’t think we were done, did you? Need to make sure I fill you with so much cum that your body has no choice but to get pregnant.”
And he stays true to his words, fucking you over and over again, sometimes hard and rough, sometimes passionate and sensual, sometimes soft and gentle, but always finishing inside of you, adding to the splattered pooling mess inside of you. You feel disgusting, the increasingly wet noises as he thrusts in and out of the sticky wet mess inside of you permeating throughout the room, stomach feeling so bloated with cum that you swear you must be pregnant already. 
Quiet, relieved sobs wrack your body when the weight on top of you finally lifts, when he finally pulls out of you and your body slumps down, all the tension leaving it, discomfort taking its place as you feel a torrent of liquid move to rush out of your overfilled cunt, the beginnings of it already starting to trickle out. But despite your aching dry throat, you manage to let out a strangled cry of disbelief when your hips are uncomfortably raised up, upper body almost folded in half as Atsumu keeps your glistening pussy upright, not allowing even a single drop more to escape. 
And in this new position you have no choice but to watch, anxiety coursing through you when he tears off another piece of duct tape, chest hyperventilating as he places it over your gaping hole, effectively sealing you shut and despite the fact that you thought you had no more tears left to shed, new salty teardrops slide down your cheeks at the debauched site of your own pussy being treated as nothing more than an object, a receptacle for his seed, his beaming smug face between your legs only adding to your humiliation as he smiles down at his handiwork. 
All you can do is mindlessly stare when he directs his smile at you, verbally praising himself for how smart he is for finding a way to keep his cum inside of you and making sure all his hard work doesn’t go to waste, mind and body feeling numb and broken as he finally lets your body lay fully back on the bed, slumping down next to you in exhaustion and cuddling your listless and still bound figure. 
“We can go pick out rings together tomorrow, okay? Maybe try a few more times for some runts after. You think the more I cum in you, the better the chance that you’ll have twins?”
You don’t know, but you have a sinking feeling that you’ll soon be finding out.
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hournites · 4 years ago
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Say that we’ll stay with each other 
An aged-up Jealous!Rick hournite fic for @samarasketch 
~.~
They grab coffee at the diner to catch up every week. It’s not the only time they see each other, but missions require zero personal life talk for safety, as learned very quickly into their JSA run, and their texts just aren’t sufficient enough for the way they miss each other’s company.
Beth rearranges the cutlery, waiting for Rick as he picks out two desserts from beneath the glass window by the cash. It’s late and quiet, Rick had to work overtime to finish a deadline,  so she took a nap at her office until he swung by with his car to pick her up. 
The steaming coffee is in front of her, untouched. It’s been a long day and she’s second guessing whether or not caffeine is actually such a good idea after all. 
“Wow,” Rick greets her, sliding into the booth across from her. He’s no longer slicking his hair back with gel and the small change makes a massive difference in how he looks. His hair is thick, falling over the front of his face, long enough to frame his eyes. Those eyes are lit up now, bright hazel. They sweep over her, taking everything in like he needs the moment to process. 
The silent gesture pushes Beth to look down at herself, wondering if she spilled something or was showcasing a wardrobe malfunction of some kind. 
“You look amazing. I noticed before but your jacket was on.”
Beth relaxes, settling against the leather backing of her seat. He grins at her, which she returns easily. Rick is her best friend—has been for a very long time. Her lips curve around the rim of her ceramic mug. “Oh, thank you! I was on my date earlier over lunch. I didn’t want to show up in my lab coat.” 
“Right,” he replies. “Dr. Leho, was it?” ” Rick twirls his fork into the perfectly cut marble cake slice on the pretty small plate. “How’d that go?”
Beth suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. “Dr. Leon.”
“Oh, was that it?” As if he hadn’t deliberately botched the name of her date in the first place. Rick has met Denny before. Beth’s mom had invited him to her surprise birthday dinner that she organized with Courtney a few weeks ago. He was nice, bought her a book of easy recipes that he swore got him well fed through night shifts that he thought she’d enjoy. The gesture was thoughtful and was what made her agree to giving him her number. Rick was there for it all, one eyebrow arched high in what she was able to tell was silent judgement as he kept sharing a look with Yolanda. 
“—And it went fine.”
He raises that brow again now. “Just fine?”
Beth shrugs. She already knows how Rick feels about why she’s giving him a chance. He’s not exactly her first choice when it comes to dating—Rather, he wasn’t much of a choice at all, pestered into giving the youngest single doctor working at her mom’s floor the time of day. 
Her parents are getting concerned she’s throwing herself too deep into work without any support. It’s not precisely fair—Juggling a new position at Central City emergency with spontaneous secret crime-fighting against metahuman villainous egomaniacs does not give a woman much time to find someone new to love. Long shifts end in face-planting into bed until the next one and there’s nothing more she’d rather do than shove off her work shoes to do that. Only a handful of people have enough grip on Beth’s heart for her to sacrifice her evenings—Courtney and her family, Yolanda, Jade, Wally, her parents. And while she enjoys the pretty dress and matching pair of high heels for dinner, her energy to sustain a relationship would require an extension of self that she’s not sure she has to offer. 
She’s tried to explain this, cutting out the important JSA parts, which she self-admits would strengthen her argument.
“It was a nice lunch.” She’s already preferring dessert with Rick, though.
“Tell me about it.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“What, he was that boring?”
Beth sighs. She finds herself describing her entire lunch break, from waiting for Denny to scrub his hands from surgical fluids to grabbing her hand to chatter about his day without a moment of pause for her to get something into the conversation until their food had arrived. It’s because he was excited to be on the date with her. Beth’s mom was talking her up to him, no doubt, clearly that was the case by any indication of how her mother kept talking about Denny to her over the phone too. So Denny was likely nervous, he kept letting out a barking type laugh after something he thought Beth should find funny. Beth couldn’t exactly be annoyed for his rambling to no end, she was the queen of that when she was younger. Her mom probably thought it was nice they had that in common. Except, it’s not. Beth’s excited verbal amusement park went away with age. Beth learned to keep her mouth shut when she needed to, she’s hoarded too many secrets. 
“There’s one thing though that bothered me a bit,” she admits finally, tapping her cut nails against the table. “He asked me what...pleased me... the most.” 
Rick frowns at her. “Huh?”
She flushes, eyes flitting away as she mumbles, “In bed. What I find pleasurable in bed.”
Rick bristles, his mouth dropping open. “Did you tell him?” 
“After what he told me first? I kind of had to. There was a family sitting within earshot of us, it was barely noon so I sort of said something vague, I don’t exactly remember, I think my brain is trying to block it out. It was embarrassing.” 
“God, that’s tacky.” 
She knew Rick would say that. “I think he was trying to assess our compatibility?”
“You make him sound like some socially inept robot.”
Beth lowers her mug, biting her tongue on calling herself a socially inept robot. She reaches over the table for the pot the waitress left for them after Rick’s second refill, instead. He lifts it for her when notices, pouring her a fresh cup and slides over the basket of sugar packets and creamers.
“Thanks,” she says, then returns to their conversation. “I think he was trying to be suave.”
“You hate that word! You’ve said so yourself!”
Had she? Beth wrinkles her nose. It’s crazy how much of their lives they’ve shared together. “In high school, maybe.”
“I vividly remember you telling me that talking about sexual preferences with acquaintances freaks you out.” That’s true. Whenever a horror story kinky sex accident patient shows up in Beth’s emergency room describing their incident in full detail, it takes all of her professionalism not to drop her clipboard and run out from second hand embarrassment. 
She shifts in her seat and explains, “He was my date, Rick.”
“So that’s what, half an hour of getting to know him? You’d think someone that went to med school would have the patience to keep it in their pants.”
“Rick!” She gapes at his bluntness because he’s just flinging it out there, dragging Dr. Leon’s entire personality with barely any effort at all, what’s worse is that he’s being unintentionally funny and now she’s trying not to laugh.
“What? This man is clearly not for you. He’s not your type.”
She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Then what is?”
Rick looks down at his plate, quieting. He hasn’t really eaten yet, just danced his fork all over that cake. She’s half tempted to ask him for it if Rick’s not hungry. She finished her lemon square in four bites.
 “Well...”
“Well?”
"Well... He’s not my type... for you. He’s not good enough for you. He sounds like a secret sleaze."
Beth stops trying to defend Denny after Rick says that. She’s not sure if he’s so adamant because he can tell the way she’s not really interested in him, but feels the need to make her mom happy and is trying to give her an out, or if he honestly thinks Denny is not a good person. She’s been a superhero for ten years now, Beth is pretty sure how to gauge a person’s character. There’s nothing wrong with Denny Leon the way Rick is painting him. It’s hard because she knows there’s no real spark, but she’s willing to try. Chemistry doesn’t develop like that over one day. 
Beth thinks about her mom again. She just wants Beth to have a fulfilling life. And she had found Beth’s father while also steadily making a career as a respected research clinician. What’s Beth’s excuse then, to say finding someone isn’t possible?
“I don’t have a type, I’ve barely dated at all. The man I’ve spent most of my time with is you.”
Rick takes a while to respond, but his eyes are on hers like he’s waiting for an afterthought to accompany her last sentence. It’s sincere and gentle, and for the second time since they’ve met here today, she finds her heartbeat picking up because of the way she’s being seen. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“It’s just—“
“What?”
He takes another moment before answering. “Why are you forcing something with someone you have no desire to connect to? Are you not...Happy?”
His question takes her by surprise. She stammers, feeling more heat rise to her face. “Why are you asking me this?”
Rick drags a hand over his face and leaves it there for a moment, like he’s just trying to breathe. Eventually, he sweeps his hair back up over his head, and he strikes a nostalgic resemblance to the angry boy Beth latched onto in tenth grade whose soul she watched soften over years of time. Her heart pangs at the memory of the way things were. When they spent all week side by side, and didn’t have to schedule coffee dates that inch towards midnight around saving each other in costumes with relics because of their hectic lives. 
“I care about you,” he finally says. “I just don’t want to see you exhaust yourself over someone that’s not worth your time. You should be with someone who makes you feel how I feel whenever I’m with you.”
She smiles at that. “I love you too, Rick.”
His own smile falters, something dims in his expression, she’d almost call it wistful, but that’s not exactly a feeling Rick has in his emotional repertoire. He lowers his gaze to his plate again. 
“Hey.” Beth places her hand over his. “Are you okay?”
In high school, Rick was on track to becoming a mechanic like Pat until the man turned him around by the shoulders and walked him through scholarship applications for college. To the surprise of practically everyone in Blue Valley except his inner circle of friends, he graduated with honours in both chemistry and physics, and is now an independent research scientist for a big pharma company. He says he likes his lab, but the regulations of being under a company contract means there’s only so much experimentation he can get by with on his own. Beth has been encouraging his recent talks of starting up his own research lab for JSA, but he seems stressed thinking of taking that beyond the realms of idealism.
His hand freezes beneath her palm. He glances up at her again without words, like he’s struggling with what to say. The creases between Beth’s brows deepen further with concern. “Rick?”
“I’m fine,” he lies. The smile is so fake it hurts that he thinks she could be fooled by it. 
“Come on, it’s just us. Something’s bothering you. Is it work? Did your uncle contact you for money again?”
“No, I’m fine. I promise.”
“Rick—“
“You don’t have a type. You just have a person. I know that because you’ve been my person since I was seventeen. You don’t need your mother’s fancy surgeon prodigy to sweep you off your feet, Beth. You have me.” 
“I—”
Her pulse rushes in her ears. She’s honestly speechless. Beth just sits there. Rick searches her face for some type of recognition she can’t give back because she’s just confused. She’s blinking back unexpected tears, the hand she has over his shaking, because there has to be something more to this, the gravity behind everything, but her mind keeps hitting against a blank wall. She understands what Rick is saying but not what he means. 
He sees her distress and slips out of his booth, sliding into her side. “Hey,” he says, wrapping an arm around her as she presses her wet face into his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s okay.” 
Her stomach drops at the horrible way his voice sounds scratchy, thick with regret. That’s when it clicks, and the tears fall for real.
Rick is in love with her. 
She’s not crying because she’s upset. Blindly, she reaches up for his face to see him, those fond hazel eyes blinking back. They used to be so hardened and guarded, but it’s just openness now, with her. It’s late, the diner is almost empty, nothing but dim lights and the only waitress busy cleaning up behind the counter. It’s just them, in their special spot. And it’s just them, their solid partnership, that Beth needs in her life to carve out time and effort and feelings for. He’s been trying to articulate this over and over since the evening began. Hugging her tightly, lets out a long breath. The solace he finds in her, alone. The relief and love. How she feels it in equal measures, how it’s always been there.
“I didn’t know.”
“I never really told you.”
But he has, really. He’s shown her since they were kids. 
She touches his face, guiding him down so he could kiss her the way she suddenly desperately wants.
He does, kissing Beth deeply until her head goes dizzy and the light feeling is not something she ever wants to let go of. There is no extension of self when Beth is with Rick. No room to make. He already is in her future, can have all of her time. 
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hopeisour4letteredword · 4 years ago
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personal furnace, ch3
Summary: Winter renovations at the inn in Zaphias leave Yuri in need of a warm bunk for the night. Good thing he can always count on his good buddy Flynn.
Read it below or at the link to AO3 in the notes.
When Yuri climbs in through the window again that night, Flynn looks up with some disbelief. He'd gotten the impression Yuri was upset with him that morning, or at least upset about being woken before he was ready. Flynn does feel guilty about that. He knows Yuri doesn't always fall back asleep after disruptions as easily as Flynn can. He should have been more empathetic to that this morning. "They still haven't fixed up enough of Mariam's rooms?"
"I know," Yuri says. He looks frustrated about it. "Sorry, man. I can find somewhere else to crash if—"
"No, you're always welcome here. I'm just surprised."
"Yeah. I don't know. I keep stopping by at the end of the afternoon to check with her and she said they're still getting separate rooms ready for the people who were forced to share before." The winter already seems harsher than usual this year, so it's not completely implausible that more folks than usual are seeking shelter from the elements. Yuri continues, "I guess I could at least try sleeping in my usual room for part of the night and see if it's tolerable."
"I just told you, you're always welcome here. You don't need to settle for tolerable, and you certainly don't need to risk worse. You can sleep here for as long as you're willing to put up with the inconveniences of sharing a bed with me."
"It's not that it's inconvenient," Yuri says. He's got the grim, irritated look he gets when he's about to say something sincere about his emotions. "It's just annoying to watch you work yourself to death."
Flynn pauses. "Oh. You're worried."
"I didn't use the word worried," Yuri snaps, cheeks flushing a darker pink that Flynn suspects has nothing to do with the cold he's just fled. It occurs to him belatedly that Yuri still hasn't moved away from the window to get himself a blanket or go closer to the fire. Maybe he's waiting for Flynn to indicate that he's welcome? But Flynn already said he was. He stands from the desk to grab a blanket from the bed and toss it at Yuri, who has the nerve to look surprised.
"Nobody says working yourself to death unless they're worried."
"Well maybe you shouldn't be giving me things to be worried about!" Yuri draws the blanket around himself in a facsimile of a cloak, as usual, and glowers at him. "It's one thing to get up early if it's standard for the Knights, but then what the hell are you doing going to sleep at the same time I do? And working right up until then?"
"Yuri—"
"I can't stop you from self-destructing if this is how you get your rocks off, but what the fuck, Flynn. If you're gonna live like this, at least have the decency not to turn around and act like I'm the one who needs to rest more."
"You do need to rest more," Flynn protests, weakly. He'd known Yuri was upset with him, but he wasn't prepared for it to involve actively combatting Flynn's attempts to look out for him. "At least I sleep consistently. You don't, always."
"Yeah, but at least I fucking try." Yuri tucks his hands close up against his own body. It's difficult to take the glaring seriously when he's swaddled in Flynn's quilt. "And I don't spend every second I'm not in bed working."
"I don't either," Flynn insists. "I usually—"
"Three nights in a row I've come here past eleven to find you still at your desk—"
"That's not—"
"So unless you're writing a fucking novel on the side—"
"Yuri, stop interrupting me." They both stop to take a deep breath. Flynn soldiers on. "I don't usually work this late so consistently. It's just a hectic time of year. There are a lot of bureaucratic deadlines that we—the Knights—need to be prepared for before the new year, but I won't be able to spend all of that time working because I have political and social obligations for the winter festivals. I'm trying to burn through this now so I don't have to worry about it at the last minute."
The tense line of Yuri's shoulders relaxes a little. He studies Flynn warily. Flynn adds, more gently, "I swear, I take some time to relax most of the time. You think all those books on the shelves are just for decoration?"
"Nerd decoration," Yuri mutters, but the fight slumps out of him. He makes no objections when Flynn closes the gap between them to take the edge of the blanket in hand and lead Yuri over to the hearth again. Their hands brush when Yuri adjusts the drape of the quilt around himself as he settles down, and Flynn jerks away on instinct. He's absolutely freezing to the touch.
"No wonder you're grouchy. You're like ice."
"A pipe burst in Ted's apartments right at the end of the evening," Yuri says, tiredly. Flynn takes the hand he'd brushed against back into both of his own and tries to rub some warmth into Yuri's cold fingers. Yuri redirects his glare from Flynn to the flames, cheeks flushing red again. "I got freaking drenched earlier while I was trying to help him."
Aghast, Flynn says, "You got completely doused in freezing water in sub-zero weather and you just threatened me with trying to sleep in the cold at the inn?"
Yuri smacks at him half-heartedly with the hand Flynn isn't massaging. "How is doing stupid things that only hurt myself threatening you?"
Flynn isn't even going to dignify that with an answer. He catches the hand Yuri bopped him with and tries to massage warmth into that one, too. "Is Ted going to be alright overnight?"
"Yeah, Hanks is putting him up for the night."
"That's good. Is someone—"
"Yeah, yeah, your people already have a plan for dealing with it." Yuri sighs. He gives Flynn an exhausted smile. "Don't go getting a big head about it, but you've got a pretty good thing going with the Flynn Brigade."
"You say that and then you refuse to make nice with Sodia."
"I am specifically talking about everyone except Sodia."
"Witcher?"
"...Yes. Fine. I'll include Apple-Head."
Well, at least that's something. Although Flynn is pretty sure the only grievance Yuri ever had with Witcher was in solidarity with Rita.
"Shall I draw a hot bath for you? Since you got soaked."
Yuri hesitates. That's a yes, then. If it's tempting enough to make him consider letting someone else take care of him, he's definitely cold enough to need it.
"I can do it," Yuri manages to say, without any sincere enthusiasm, when Flynn nods briskly and heads into the bathroom. "You've been working all day too—"
"I've been at the desk most of the day, aside from a training session," Flynn says. Yuri trails behind him and hovers in the doorway as Flynn opens the faucet to begin filling the tub. "And frankly, with all due respect, please do not try to do magic in any part of my quarters. Especially not fire magic. I have to live with whatever destruction you wreak."
"No faith," Yuri says, with a faint grin.
"Not for this." Flynn shakes his head, watching the water fill the tub. "Not before, and definitely not now that it's all mana."
"Rita says magic with mana is probably actually more intuitive for beginners to learn than magic with aer. She thinks it seems harder right now because everyone's trying to unlearn aer magic at the same time."
"If Rita is encouraging you to try fire magic, I'll have to have words with her."
Nonetheless, Yuri stays out of the way while Flynn uses careful application of fire magic to the porcelain basin to heat the water. He shuffles forward when Flynn steps back. Flynn takes the quilt back and leaves Yuri to disrobe while he goes to change into pajamas and fetch another set for Yuri.
He comes back in right as Yuri climbs into the bath, clothes in a pile on the floor. His hair pools on the surface of the water in inky swirls as he sinks deeper into the bath with a long, contented sigh. Flynn has to tear his eyes away before his gaze can follow the elegant curve of Yuri's neck below the water line. He turns to the bathroom counter.
"Better?"
"Yeah, lots. You're a hero."
"We're safe in my quarters at the end of the night. Nothing I need to save the energy for."
"Mm. Still." There's a gentle splashing sound behind Flynn, presumably as Yuri shifts. "Thanks."
"Maybe I should have been more careful," Flynn muses, more to himself than Yuri, as he reaches for his toothbrush. "In specialized climate training they always tell us you shouldn't put someone with hypothermia directly into a hot bath."
"I was not hypothermic," says Yuri, indignantly. "Just cold."
"Mm-hm. I don't know. You were more worked up than you usually get in your right mind."
"I get to be crabby when I can barely feel my hands without that meaning I'm on the verge of death," Yuri says, "And I was still right. If I find you staying up past midnight doing more paperwork after the new year, we're gonna have a real fight about it."
"Alright, alright."
"I'm serious."
"Hi, serious. I'm Flynn."
After a moment of furious silence, Yuri says, with deadly calm, "I am going to fucking drown you."
Flynn bursts into laughter. He had begun to put the toothbrush into his mouth, but now has to remove it so he doesn't choke. Yuri continues, "I'm going to have to explain to Cecelia why you're dead in the bathtub, fully clothed, and I'm the last person who saw you."
"Nobody else knows you're here," Flynn says, cheerfully. He glances at Yuri in the mirror. The mirror is safe. Yuri only exists from the shoulders up in the mirror. He glares sullenly back at Flynn. "You could get away with it."
"Yeah, nobody could solve that incredibly confusing riddle."
Flynn grins at him in the reflection and goes ahead with brushing his teeth. Yuri settles into the bath water up to his chin with another, surlier sigh.
"I take back everything nice I said."
"You can't take back being grouchy because you were worried about me. I'm going to remember that," Flynn says, around his toothbrush. He knows Yuri cares no matter how reluctant he is to put plain words to it, but it's still a treat whenever he slips up.
"I was grouchy because it's cold as hell," Yuri mutters. He rests the back of his head against the rim of the basin. He's quiet for a moment. Then: "You know in some places, people's whole concept of hell is a frozen wasteland?"
Flynn makes an interested sound. He had not known that.
"Estelle told us that," Yuri continues. "And I guess that's what they think in Dahngrest, because Karol was like, 'yeah, that's what hell is, what are you talking about?' And then we had to explain the concept of hell as a fire pit to him. He was so weirded out, it was hilarious."
"I can't believe you argued with a twelve year old about the concept of hell," Flynn says, except he can, actually. It's a very Yuri thing to do. He finishes brushing and spits into the sink.
"We weren't arguing," Yuri protests. "It was a cultural exchange."
"You can't just repeat Lady Estellise's euphemisms to me like I won't know that's what you're doing."
Yuri laughs. "Ah, fine. You got me there."
"I wouldn't mind hearing more about Dahngrest, though," Flynn says. He rinses his toothbrush under the faucet and puts it away, then turns around to lean back against the counter with his arms crossed. He's careful to keep his eyes on Yuri's face. "You started to say the other day that it's almost as though the citizens hibernate through the winter?"
Yuri lights up. He twists in the tub, water splashing dangerously, so he can face Flynn and rest his chin on his arms along the basin's edge. "Yeah. It's so wild. I mentioned the dawn's later, right? Well, the sunset's earlier, too."
"You're messing with me."
"No. It's dark a lot. And mostly people just sleep when it's dark, because it's colder there, too. So a lot of folks just stay inside and try to stay warm. Stay in their blanket nests or whatever."
How... gloomy.
"You'll never believe me, but I'm one of the most productive people in the city right now."
"You always seem to find plenty to keep yourself busy in Dahngrest," Flynn allows. Guild life is good for Yuri, after all. "But so does everyone else. It must be strange, for it to be a ghost town after dark."
"Not quite a ghost town, there's still a little nightlife. But it is weird. Good for Brave Vesperia as a business venture, I guess. There's less people taking jobs right now, so we're getting plenty."
"If it's colder there, are you staying warm enough? They aren't having the same issues as Zaphias?"
"Yeah. I mean, the Empire already restricted the Guilds' access to blastia, right? So the buildings are built better for the winter, already, because most of them couldn't depend on furnace blastia. Lots of fireplaces and ventilation systems. I just sleep with plenty of blankets and bundle up when I go out."
"As long as you're doing alright," Flynn says, doubtfully. He doesn't like to think of Yuri in the cold and dark, but at least it sounds like he's staying active.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm getting by okay. It being dark all the time sucks more than the weather, honestly. Anyway, I'm going to be in Zaphias for a while."
Flynn perks up. Yuri doesn't always stay in town all that long. "Really?"
"Really," Yuri says. His grin goes a little less smirk and a little more soft and fond. "Gotta be here for the solstice festival and then new year, don't I? Or Ted'll kill me. And I thought I'd stick around for a bit after that, see if there's any chance we can establish a little guild business in Zaphias."
Flynn beams at him. "Pleased to hear it."
Yuri shakes his head, still smiling, as he lifts his arms from the edge of the tub and sinks back into the hot water. "You'll be sick of me by the time I go, don't worry."
Flynn really doesn't think he will be.
---
Yuri doesn't leave fast enough in the morning to miss Cecelia bringing breakfast for two. Flynn and Yuri both stare at her, befuddled. Yuri's got one boot on.
"There were two sets of pajamas set aside on the dresser last afternoon when I left for the day," she says, flustered. Flynn had re-folded Yuri's set along with his own so that they wouldn't create an absurd amount of laundry when he could just wear the same ones again if he showed up. "Sir. Um. I'm sorry. I can take one of these back to the kitchens, if you don't—"
"I mean, I'll eat it," Yuri says, reaching out to take the tray from her. "But you really didn't have to. The renovations seem to be going alright, it should be done soon. And Mariam's always willing to feed me when I get back over to the Lower Quarter. I'm not your problem, Cece."
Completely red in the face, Cecelia says, "It's my job to maintain the Commandant's quarters and if he's decided you're to be included in them then yes, you are my problem. Good day."
She curtsies aggressively and sees herself out before either Yuri or Flynn can say anything about it.
"Well then," Yuri says.
"I've no idea what that was about," Flynn says, baffled. "She asked if she should bring two breakfasts after the first morning and I told her not to."
"Hope I haven't offended her by declining her hospitality or something," Yuri says, which is a new layer of social etiquette Flynn doesn't want to think about so early in his morning. Shouldn't he be the one dictating the hospitality levels of his own quarters? Is Flynn also in hot water for telling her not to be hospitable? "Well, whatever. Yay for free breakfast."
"Indeed." It does sound nice to take a meal with Yuri, instead of just having him hop right back out the window. And it is. Flynn enjoys it immensely.
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shockapella-sweet · 5 years ago
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hello, sorry to bother you but, i have two things to say/ask, 1) happy new year!!! i wish you all the best wishes for you!!! 2) i'd like to ask you what your thoughts for a mk11 modern au, more specifically, about what careers would they have as modern aus? it doesn't need to be a fic, it can be headcanon, i'm just curious what would they do as mdoern regular humans (sorry i don't know if this has been asked before :x) :))
Happy belated New Year, Nonny, and thank you so very much; I hope your year will go wonderfully for you and be filled with happiness! :D Sorry for the epically late response to your ask, as I’ve been moving house (which has been a hectic process), so thank you for your patience.
Gosh, I’ve never been asked this before, so it took me a while to sit and think about this. I suppose an MK11 AU depends on what the characters do for a living in the real world. I can imagine charries like Kitana and Kotal Kahn being in the political field and potentially being at odds with each other, while others like the Kombat Kids and their parents work in everyday jobs while contending with their own personal issues.
Here’s some potential occupations that they could take up:
Raiden: Billionaire philanthropist/museum curator who’s close with Kitana’s family, practically raised Liu Kang, etc.
Fujin: Environmental activist who’s involved in the sustainable energy business, specifically solar wind farms.
Sonya Blade: US military officer (of course).Johnny Cage: Actor (duh).Cassie Cage: A toss-up between joining the military like her mother, or becoming a vlogger/social media influencer. I can also picture her making vlogs centred around her military life, doing challenges with her friends or her dad, etc.Jax Briggs: Something in technology or in the automobile/aircraft industry, before he retires to become a farmer.
Jacqui Briggs: Pilot (commercial or private or air force).
Takeda: Information technology, ie. web development, programmer, hardware specialist, etc.
Kenshi: A psychologist who can solve everyone’s problems but his own. >3
Kung Jin: Lawyer who specialises in human rights cases, or a state diplomat (because he’s got a mind and mouth for those sort of things).
Liu Kang: I feel like teaching would be up Liu-liu’s alley. At a school or as a Wushu instructor, I can’t decide, but expect him to teach youngsters who look up to him.
Kung Lao: Either something along the same lines as Liu Kang, or dabbling in historic preservation (similar to Nightwolf).
Kitana: Politician who comes from a well-known family.
Kotal Kahn: I can see him as someone who’s in the pharmaceutical field, or as a doctor (who specialises in cardiology), before he decides to take up politics.
Sub-Zero: Lecturer at a university who specialises in political science and/or Chinese studies; or a political analyst, or an anthropologist. OR, if you want to go the coffee shop!AU route, he manages the Lin Kuei speciality tea store.
Scorpion: Also a lecturer at a university along the same lines as Subby (but specialising in Japanese studies instead), or something like a social worker who works with rehabilitating kids and adults.
Kano: Your neighbourhood nightclub kingpin who happens to run a casino, a dodgy underground fight club, and a weapons/drug cartel all at the same time.
Erron Black: Unemployed stripper. Helped his daddy run a ranch/farm as a kid before taking it over himself. Or, he runs/owns a distillery that specialises in whiskey and spirits.
Stryker: Cop (duh times two).
Kabal: Reformed criminal-turned-cop + Stryker’s partner.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
D’Vorah: Entomologist, because it’s D’Vorah.
Tremor: Geologist, or someone who works in the mining sector. Also runs the Johnny Cage fan club.
Shao Kahn: Donald Trump on steroids Gross-as-hell politician.
Shang Tsung: His adviser with his own plots and plans.
Kollector: Shao Kahn’s taxman. Literally. I bet SK is the CEO of some tax organisation, and Kollector’s his spokesperson or spin doctor who commits fraud on the daily.
Geras: Big boy has his own gym or self-defence school, because DAMN. Or he manages a library or archival office with Kronika, I don’t know.
That’s all I can think of at the moment, Nonny. I’m still trying to think what could suit Smoke, Jade, Reptile, Ermac, Mileena, etc, without going for the obvious like reptile expert or bodyguard. Otherwise, I’m sure a decent MK11 AU could be made from my suggestions. ^3^
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universally-the-same · 5 years ago
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Exercise, intuitive eating and stepping into power
My intuitive eating journey is starting to welcome the idea of movement.  For my whole life movement equaled exercise, which equaled a need to lose weight.  Pretty much the only times that I would exercise with any regularity where when I was in the throes of trying to change my body as a result of being surrounded by diet culture.
There are two other circumstances I can think of when I would exercise regularly.  The first being the many times I was in physical therapy rehabbing a body part due to an injury.  The other time is when I was about 18 years-old.  I was out late every night country line dancing, and I was going to the gym for fun.  Weight loss did end up being a side effect of this time in my life, but it was probably the most intuitive period in my life as an adult.  
I would eat whatever I wanted, and I only ate when I actually needed food due to my hectic teenager schedule (because you know... I was busy working, going to school and just living life to the fullest).  I danced because I loved it.  I worked out at the gym because it felt good.  And I ate what I wanted because I felt that I deserved it due to all of the exercise I was doing.
Now, the food part was still tied up in diet culture because I was eating what I wanted to eat because I felt I deserved it due to the exercise, but the point is that I wasn't restricting myself, I enjoyed my food and I enjoyed the movement I was doing with my body.  It all came very naturally to me.
At this point in my life, I was the thinnest I was as an adult.  But aside from weight, I felt truly fulfilled in many other ways.  I was traveling with my best friend.  I had worked through my childhood mother issues as best as I could, I had an amazing support group of people that loved me and encouraged me, my stepsister and I had grown incredible close, and I had even given up the incessant need for a boyfriend... I believe because I was finally at a point in my life where I was finally starting to "do me".
Until this morning, every time that I've looked back on this part of my life I've always obsessed on the weight loss part, and how incredible it would be to be able to replicate that.  Over the years, I've realized and I've accepted that this body is now 20 years older, and at that time... I had undiagnosed Graves Disease so my metabolism was in constant overdrive. Since than, my thyroid has changed and I now have Hashimoto's Disease so my metabolism is working against me.  
When we created our vision boards for Winter Solstice in December, I placed a picture of myself as a teenager in the center.  I also did this Spring of 2018 as a form of motivation for my weight loss.  This year, when I chose a picture, instead of focusing on a picture that emphasized my body. I was drawn to chose this picture that captured my spirit in what happens to be a smaller body.
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At the time I didn't really realize that's what I was doing, but as I've been going through this whole process of tapping into my intuition on a whole other level, and getting back in touch with my inner child, I'm realizing that what I want more than weight loss is to feel whole and to be happy.
"Thanks" to diet culture, I always thought that weight loss would be "the thing" to make me happy.  So weight loss turned into this elusive thing that I've only ever been able to obtain when my body was sick, or when my life was full of restriction and the need to exercise (and the reasoning that it would help burn more calories which would help me lose weight).
When I did the Optavia diet last year, the diet was so incredibly restrictive that I wasn't allowed to exercise because of how dangerously low my caloric intake was.  This in itself should have set off a red flag, but it didn't because I was completely enamored by the success stories and my search for happiness through weight loss.  I sincerely believed that it was the answer and that if I could just stick to it long enough to get down to the size I wanted, then I could transition off the plan and maintain a pretty restrictive diet for the rest of my life.
Does that sound like happiness?  I was miserable.  My thyroid was thrown for such a loop due to the heavy amount of soy protein I was eating in place of real food.  Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to exercise because I had zero energy.  I was filling my mornings with promising pep-talks of lunchtime naps hoping that 40 minutes of sleep would be able to carry me through the rest of my day.  Most days it didn't and I would need another nap after work so that I could make it through the evening.  
Luckily, I wised up and transitioned myself off of that diet before things got any worse.  Shortly after, I went on the vacation of a life time where I  allowed myself to eat what I wanted.  It was vacation after all, and I've never been one to restrict myself for holidays and special occasions.  But what I didn't realize was that this would continue after I got home.  I now understand that the cyclical nature of dieting is restrict, restrict, restrict and our bodies finally get to a point where enough it enough and we binge.  This is one of the reasons for yo-yo weight cycling.  
In intuitive eating, there is a stage you go through where you have to allow your body to have what it wants.  As counter-intuitive as it sounds, this stage is very important because the trust that was broken within the body during restriction needs to be rebuilt.  The idea behind this is that when we diet, we know that it is a purposeful restriction (of food choices, calories, portions.. whatever it may be) but our actual body doesn't know that.  Due to our nature, our body is programmed to think that we are entering a period of famine, so when when the time/opportunity comes to replenish itself, it's going to take advantage of that.  
This is the phase that I am in on my journey.  I could write a separate post of everything that I've been experiencing during this phase, but the coolest part is actually witnessing the trust being reestablished within my body.  It's something that I really can't explain at this moment, but I felt it was important to share this information on restriction because I'm going to tie this in with exercise in a moment.
But before I do, I wanted to write out a quick timeline.  I started Optavia last May.  Our trip was the very end of October.  That December is when I created the vision board with that photo, and this past January is when I started seeing my new therapist who introduced me to intuitive eating.  
This past year, I have been very resistant to exercise.  The only form I've done has come in the form of walking when exploring on vacation or day trips, and yoga.  I'm happy to say that my yoga practice has been particularly strong this year, though I think that's in part to my not really viewing yoga as exercise.  While yoga is fantastic for your body, for me, it's always been about the spiritual part.
But recently, I've noticed that movement/exercise is slowly started making a reappearance in my life.  For the last few months, I've had this little voice suggesting I wake up earlier on my work-from-home days and hit the gym.  This week, I finally found the desire to really want to do it.  I woke up early, drove to the gym and did a total body work out.  
While working out, I listened to my body.  I was mindful of what it wanted - just like with food.  I did the amount of weight that felt good.  I did the number of reps/sets that felt good.  And I didn't worry about the clock and how long I had been there.  When I was satisfied with my workout, I left.  
I've been practicing listening to my body while eating these last few months, and let me tell you... it felt so amazing to tune into my body while at the gym.  In the past it was all about competition which sounded something like this...  How much weight did I lift last time?  Let's see if we can beat that!   Oh look... I'm lifting more than the person next to me!   I'm pedaling harder than them, or not fast enough.. let me push myself harder...
I've always known that this thinking it what set me up for injury, but I'm really now seeing just how much it was.  The liberation that comes from releasing all the self-imposed expectations and just doing what feels good, or listening to my body and eating what I really want in the amount that my body needs (vs. under or overeating)... these things leave me satisfied.  A word that I've taken for granted for too long.
All of this mindfulness and reconnecting with my body has me thinking about patterns in my life related to exercise.  I'm realizing again, this connection to nature's cycles.  Reflecting back over the years, I have a tendency to want to want to be more active in the spring time.  I tend to struggle with exercise during the winter months.  This is so fascinating because this coincides with the cycles of not only trees and plants, but animals too.  
So many plants and animals go into dormancy/hibernation in the fall and winter.  It makes sense that I would also want to retreat.  In the spring, everything starts to wake up.  The plants and trees blossom and bud, animals come out from hibernation, they start mating and procreating so wouldn't it make sense that there would be an inherent desire for my body to "wake up" and want to be more active?
I'm so excited to go into this year with this new perspective and to be able to honor it without being attached to the stories and expectations to be something other than what I am.  Reconnecting to my spiritually was an important step towards finding myself, but I never expected the healing that would come from this intuitive eating journey.  The liberation that has come from releasing all of that and allowing myself to be me, and figuring out who exactly that is has been such a beautiful process.  
The more that we release those ties that bind us, the more powerful in self we become.  The more we recognize and honor that power, the more we can help change the world and create one where our unique identities are embraced instead of stigmatized.
  *this blog post was originally posted on my My Curvy Journey blog on 5/23/2019 and moved to my Universally the Same blog.
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thechembow · 5 years ago
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Towerbusting Silicon Valley
Sept. 3, 2019
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Orgone energy transmutation in San Francisco this morning
We first started gifting central and northern California in 2015 as part of a sweeping effort to end the drought. At that time most of our gifting was along major routes, but not yet in depth in cities other than LA. After the lackluster start to the rainy season of 2017-2018, we took drastic action to restore the rain with heavy orgonite gifting all over the west during 2018. One of the places we began an in depth grid was the San Francisco Bay Area. We had excellent results in bringing back the rain and in late spring 2018 we were back on track. In the winter of 2018-2019, the entire continental USA had the most precipitation ever on record after we gifted many other places, including San Diego, Seattle, and the southwest into Arizona and New Mexico.
The past two days were dedicated to San Jose and the Silicon Valley in general. We did another piece of San Francisco to expand on the grid this morning, and the energy of the city was much better than the last time we were here. The air was cool and fresh, the fog was beautiful, and the charm of the city showed through. It was still stressful for us Southern California drivers to try and compete in the dog eat dog Bay Area traffic, but on the plus side, aggressive drivers are more concerned about getting around you than about the orgonite you may be throwing out of your windows.
Gifting San Jose was mush easier yesterday than what we experienced today. We took freeways there and back, covering new ground on a large scale. Within the city, we took a section of it and gridded street by street. Today, we drove on a surface street all the way from San Rafael to San Jose, and it took hours. We were unable to do another detailed gridding day in San Jose without losing the light, but the ground we covered was expansive.
Once again, there were no high flying planes today or yesterday. We only saw low fliers, and literally one chemtrail all day. There were transmuting clouds in the morning, and clear skies the rest of the day. I knew that there was something evil going on in these cities south of San Francisco and it was much more subtle than what goes on in LA, which is the obvious satanic Hollywood industry. Here, the evil is cleaned up and sanitary, so most people would never know it’s happening. It all comes from the tech industry.
I’m sure San Jose is the birthplace of every pointless change you hate on websites you have come to depend on, like PayPal. It is ground zero for the corporate computer world that wants more than just your business. They want your soul. Silicon Valley is where all the money in California is, and that’s why you need to earn $10K a month to live in a basic apartment up here. This area makes LA look affordable and relaxing!
While making a pit stop at a Whole Foods in Los Altos, we picked up a couple of free luxury home magazines to gawk at the mansions and see what all the hooplah was about. I also thought they might give me some insight into these neighborhoods, which looked completely ordinary and actually not really like very good areas. Agenda 21 is rampant in these places, with stack and pack mixed use sustainable development taking over downtowns. The mansions in the magazines were a stark contrast to what “they” expect humans to live in. Very near where we were gifting, hidden somewhere in these generic towns were neighborhoods of multi million dollar estates. Some were in the tens of millions. Who has this kind of money? No one shopping at the Whole Foods did. A couple of different realtors advertised to “extraordinary” people. Maybe they meant extra-dimensional because these houses were for “them” not us. There is no way for an honest human to obtain such disgusting luxury. All these magazines do is upset the honest humans shopping at Whole Foods who can barely afford to live. That’s probably the goal, brainwashing and trauma.
I knew that gifting this area would be important, but I had no idea how much. The evil of the technology industry needs purging. This explains why Seattle has a similar atmosphere to the Bay Area. That’s where Microsoft is headquartered. It is also exorbitantly overpriced, hectic, and unpleasant, with a “me first” ethic. But underlying this is the real place. Whatever I hate about a place is not the fault of the place but the fault of the parasites infecting the place. After feeling the difference in San Francisco, Portland, and other bad energy places after gifting, I know that anywhere can be life affirming. Some just take more work than others.
We have some small percentages of rain coming up on the forecast for the next week. When the air is already clean and the parasites can’t operate in the sky, there is no visual confirmation in the environment during the course of the gifting. Fog in San Francisco is not exactly proof the gifting is working, just like rain in Seattle isn’t proof. However, it is caused by high OR, and a huge rush has been created in the past two days. The results will become more obvious in the following two weeks after the gifting, and especially when rainy season starts again, which is soon.
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Sunnyvale, CA, What is the significance of this number?
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prettywordsyouleft · 6 years ago
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I love your writing style! I finished reading all of your work and I am craving for more. While I wait for your new stuff, can you please suggest some of your favorite writers on tumbler? Thank you!!
Aw thank you so very much, this means so much to me that you’ve read a lot of my stories! I appreciate all the effort and time spent on my blog!
As for favourite writers, well because if it isn’t at all obvious on my blog, I’m on a bit of a GOT7 fiction journey right now so a lot on this list predominately write for GOT7. However a couple are multifandom / exo. I’ll make a point to mention what each writer does. I also love a lot more writers than on this list, I’m just working on zero sleep and energy right now, so forgive me to all those amazing authors I’ve missed off this list. 
@inyournightmares97 - GOT7 fictions and literally every one on this blog just takes me to another world. I love love lovee The Savage King and the current series My Youth is E V E R Y T H I N G. Currently my favourite writer on this website and the place I go to when I’m wanting to read Jinyoung. Cannot speak highly about this blog enough. 
@noona-clock​ - multifandom - with a very big catalogue (I’m still probably only 1/8 through it tbh). B has something on this blog that suits everyone out there. It’s like a Treasure Chest full of good stories and idols. B also writes for some actors as well, and literally has the best Park Seo Joon content on Tumblr. As a fellow fluff/romance writer like myself, I find B’s writing style very relatable and easy to fall in love with.
@katdefbeom - multifandom but mostly GOT7 // really has a lot of diversity between mature content, fluff, au’s etc. Just a lot to discover! I’m still making my way through Kat’s masterlist, but what I’ve read so far is really interesting. And tbh, I’m such a naive thing when it comes to smut, and some heavier ideas, but the quality of the writing on her mature pieces really allows me to read on which is a big thing for me as smut can be so poorly written - definitely not on this blog! 
@soobadnoonecanstopher - EXO with a focus on Kyungsoo // TBH I’ve read all of Lori’s Kyungsoo and Sehun fictions and still need to make it through the rest of the list but everything is captivating. Especially her Kyungsoo series All His and Only The One You Love have owned my soul ever since I read them. The content is pretty mature, but the characterisation and dialogue is superb.
@monicaexol - EXO // Monica’s ideas are so unique. Sure, there are a few dark turns and twists but I’ve been so captivated by everything I’ve read on her blog.
@tuanyiems - GOT7 // I love the playfulness of this Ems writing! I fell in love with her style over a Jinyoung piece, but the excitement and understanding of her characters continues through all her idols she writes for and this is something I truly appreciate.
@parkhabits - GOT7 and I think BTS? // admittedly, I haven’t read too many fictions, but I loveee Chances Taken so if you’re a Jinyoung fan like me, and don’t mind mature content, please check this out! 
@got7-markjinson - GOT7 // whilst I’m new to this blog, I’m finding it very exciting to read through! The way the stories are presented really speak to me. I’m a morals kind of gal and I feel that in most of the stories on this blog, there is a moral compass and I truly appreciate that.
@goodnightkisseu - WANNA ONE / EXO // Ashley comes up with really intriguing ideas and her characters develop in a way that is captivating!
@ongnable - WANNA ONE // Jas is the reason I made this blog last year and her stories that she has on her blog are really soul reaching. I don’t think she writes anymore, but the content there is amazing! 
Tbh, I’m mindblanking since I’ve been so hectic of late as to who else to suggest. I hope this is enough to keep you going until I’m back on Monday with new fictions! 
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erasethedarkness · 6 years ago
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Sweet, Old Fashioned Notion -Day 2 | Netflix & Chill / Dating App- (Midnight x Reader)
Summary: You weren't one for dating apps, but your friend insisted so incessantly that you caved just to shut them up. By what you'd call dumb luck, you came across a Pro Hero's profile, and then- somehow- matched with her. At first completely skeptical, you were quickly proved wrong and pleasantly surprised by how everything turned out.
Note: This hella got away from me. I had so much fun writing this. I hope you all enjoy the spin I put on Netflix & Chill. ;) Bonus points to whoever can crack what “SVME” stands for.
Theme Song: What’s Love Got to Do With It - Tina Turner (covered by DNCE)
Reader: Gender Neutral 
Word Count: 3536
@bnha-valentines
I’ve been taking on a new direction, but I have to say...
It seemed like every decade had its defining dating program. Supposedly it was something that began online all the way back in the 1990s, and then moved to cellphones in apps like Tindr. ‘What the hell does Tindr even mean? And why’d they take out the ‘e’?’ you wondered as you watched the installation bar go from empty to full in a matter of seconds. Dating apps kept the trend of omitting letters, and the hot new one was SVME- supposedly some pretty big heroes were even using it. It didn’t take long for it to spread like wildfire, and now it seemed like everyone was on it. Hell, you were about to be on it- and that was saying a lot, since you had absolutely zero interest in something like SVME.
“Okay, so now you have to make a profile- pick the pictures of you that you like best! And write something fun and like.. Mysterious. Or sexy! Or-”
“This sounds like way more work than it’s worth,” you grumbled. Your friend rolled their eyes and snatched your phone from you.
“Fine, give it here- I’ll make your profile for you. We’re gonna get you soooo many matches!”
You groaned, looking anything but pleased by the fact that you let yourself get dragged into this. Suddenly, the overly enthusiastic person you called a friend shrieked in delight.
“(Y/N), LOOK! MATCHES!” They leaned over to you and showed you your phone. You stared blankly at it.
“That’s.. Nice, I guess?” There was still absolutely no interest in your voice. “Hey- wait- how do you even get matches?!”
“Well… you click this button to show you’re interested, and if they click it on you, then you two match and can start talking!”
“Right… ...and.. what’s your criteria for showing interest in people while you pretend to be me?”
“Oh, I’m just picking interested for everyone! We’re going for maximum matches here!” they cackled. You groaned again at their response and snatched your phone back, looking at the person on your screen. Your breath caught in your chest while your friend squealed again. “(Y/N)!!! LOOK! A HERO!!! EEEEEE!! You have to pick interested. Do it. Doooo it. Let’s see if you match with her!”
“This is the last one and we’re done, okay? I don’t want my phone going off with people I’ve never met trying to get into my pants.”
“Yeah, yeah, but what if she wants to get into your pants?”
“Not happening,” you quickly snapped back- both implying that you weren’t going to cave, but also that it was completely unlikely.
Days passed and you forgot about the app. It wasn’t on the main page of your phone and you turned off push notifications after your friend finally left you alone. You were about to check reviews for a movie when you happened to see that there was an exclamation point on the corner of SVME. Curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked the heart-shaped shield icon. As expected, there was a slew of random messages asking if you were “DTF,” whatever that meant. There were suggestive pictures, as well as lewd writings that you absolutely did not ask for, and everything was as disappointing and unappealing as you anticipated it would be.
You were just about to close the app when a banner popped up, showing that you got another message. The small icon was unmistakable- it was the hero. Even from the small picture, her dark hair captured the essence of her hero name: borderline black, with the gentle coolness of a royal, blue-based purple. Disbelief froze you, halting your walk as you stared at your phone. With skeptical hesistence, you clicked on the message. It was probably just a bot, right? A scam? Or someone pretending to be her?
“Well, hello there, lovely.~ I must say, your negligence has caught my eye. You’re the only match I’ve had who hasn’t flooded me with messages, so now I’m intrigued.~ Are you even real, (Y/N)? Or are you just part of this poor girl’s imagination?”
The screen darkened as it went to sleep since all you could do was stare at the message, reading it a few times over until it wasn’t showing anymore. Your hand dropped to your side as you started walking again. How in the world were you supposed to respond to that? Could you even be sure that it was really her? It was public knowledge that there were heros of all levels of fame and recognition on SVME but… you never expected to match with one- you didn’t even want to be on this app. Yet, there was a part of you that felt like you should at least respond to this message. Damn all the other ones! You didn’t care; you weren’t “DTF” or interested in their photos. There was nothing of real quality in those messages to you. But this one seemed different, and it honestly wasn’t because she was a hero.
When you finally had the courage and words to respond, you were met with radio silence for a few hours, leading you to assume it was all a ruse. You even turned notifications back on for this, and still got nothing. It wasn’t until you were already asleep that the haptics of your phone jarringly woke you up- the vibrations against the wood shattering the peaceful silence of your bedroom.
“Sorry to get back to you during peak witching hours, but things got a little hectic. Hero work doesn’t always submit to a schedule… but maybe we could get something else to? ;) ”
Oh, no. Part of you sincerely hoped that she wasn’t just looking for a hookup, but maybe she was. That wasn’t your style, but truth be told, it wouldn’t surprise you if it was hers and there was no fault in that. You sent a sleepy reply that you would have forgotten by morning it if wasn’t for the fact that she promptly responded back and seemed thrilled.
“Oh, you are just too darling! Are you normally up this late? I could keep you up and make it worth your while.~”
Now, it must have been because you were still half asleep, but your snark factor was uncensored. You sarcastically took her up on this, and when she asked where to meet you, you gave her a nearby address that you could see from your window.
“That’s not far from my agency! If things go well, I wouldn’t mind making a habit out of this, cutie. I’ll be there in 15- don’t keep me waiting; I’ll punish you if you do.”
You scoffed, not buying much into it. Still, you got out of bed, washed your face and made the most out of the 15 minutes she gave you to get somewhat presentable- as presentable as you could be at 02:00 and with three hours of sleep. When you were changed and more awake, you looked out your window and nearly had a heart attack. Walking into view was a woman taller than your average Japanese lady. Her dark hair was pulled back into a spiky ponytail as she glanced down at her phone, the soft glow gleaming off her signature red and horned glasses. Her sweater dress was relaxed, neckline off-center and hanging off one of her shoulders. It was no secret that she shamelessly showed a lot of skin- and while most took it at erotic face value, you greatly respected her for it. The amount of confidence it must have taken to be her would have crushed anyone else, yet she bore it all with a powerful, fun, and exciting personality.
Your phone buzzed and you looked down at it, seeing a message from the hero you previously doubted was really talking to you. There was no mistaking it now though, as you gazed at her from your window and read that she was arriving- and brought presents. With a deep breath, you grounded yourself in the moment and situation you put yourself in, bracing yourself for whatever was to come once you invited her into your apartment. You went down to meet her, drawing her eyes as you opened the main entrance of your building. She smiled widely and unabashedly, waving to you, the glow of her phone creating a curving trail of light from her gesture. Returning her smile and wave, you waited for her at the door, the excitement of actually meeting her and not being duped by a bot or a scammer waking you up and giving you renewed energy- at least for the time being.
“You’re way cuter in person, (Y/N), I could just eat you up,” she purred. The disbelief at this whole chain of events was still at the forefront of your mind, inhibiting your blush as you remained somewhat guarded.
“Am I? I’ll have to chide my friend for picking less than accurate pictures of me then,” you joked with a smirk. With an open and welcoming sweep of your hand, you invited her into the complex. The light from inside illuminated her face for you to plainly see the delight in her expression at your playful severity.
“You left a friend in charge of your profile? My, that’s so daring and bold of you,” the hero giggled, preceding you into your apartment as you opened the door for her. “And you’re so chivalrous! How’s a girl supposed to resist your charm?~”
Her playfulness made you laugh, but the sound was unexpected to her and she actually looked a bit thrown off at first. Seeing her confusion, you chuckled a bit and apologized. “I’m sorry, but if basic respect and manners are chivalrous, then you’ve been surrounded by nothing but base humanity, Midnight.”
In the warm light of your apartment, her smile somehow seemed soft and sincere. Her lips weren’t pulled back as tightly, and it naturally fell away as she took off her boots. “That seems to be where working the hero industry puts a person, doesn’t it? Around the debased, the depraved, and the deviant.” The last word came with a smirk, as if she was trying to cover up that overlookable moment of openness with her characteristic sultriness.
“I would disagree, but… well, I’m not a pro-hero, so what would I know?” You two moved from the entrance of your apartment to the living room. It was a modest apartment- nothing to gloat about, but nothing to be ashamed of either. Midnight placed the bag she brought with her on your coffee table before falling back into your couch with a happy sigh, delighted to be off her feet and reclining. You sat down next to her with a respectable distance and leaving her untouched, but giving her the full breadth of your attention.
“Really now? Disagreeing with a hero- that’s gutsy… and quite a turn on,” she chuckled nonchalantly, turning slightly so that she could face you, her knees coming up onto the couch as she tucked her legs underneath her and rested her arm on the back of your furniture. “Enlighten me, cutie. What do you know?”
You shifted your weight to engage in the conversation with her. “Well, you’re right, it’s obvious that your line of work as a hero puts you in contact with villains, criminals, and the like- but it also keeps you involved with others who share the same ideals and goals as you, doesn’t it? Even though heroes are mostly stand-alone, you’ve worked with some of the greatest, and made yourself one of them as well. I remember when you stopped Suicide Bomb years ago, and that’s just one of many highlights and tributes to your skill.” Realizing you were going off and sounding like an over-eager fan, you blushed slightly and looked away from her- only making her smile.
“Sorry. I hope that didn’t come off as creepy or something. I’m sure a lot of people try to flatter you.
But… I’m just trying to say you’re not only surrounded by the ‘debased, depraved, and deviant’ or by the heroes they juxtapose. You’re a U.A. teacher, too, which means you’re also surrounded by students with good hearts and goals in mind, and other instructors and heroes who want to help the next generation of professionals succeed. You're surrounded in pure and youthful ambition and optimism when you're at U.A. So there’s more around you than just that dark and murky part of heroics.”
Bringing your hand to the back of your neck, you rubbed it, feeling as if you’d said too much at this point. Your eyes lowered and avoided hers.
“... And what am I surrounded by right here?” she asked with a gentle yet probing curiosity. “It doesn't seem like raging hormones or lust, or even the feigned prestige of bragging rights. So what is it that your presence offers and seeks in mine?”
The question stumped you, because you honestly had no idea. You weren’t on SVME because you were looking for a partner or friends with benefits- you were hardly on there at all- hell, it wasn’t even your idea to begin with. And what did you possibly have to offer a hero who probably had everything she could ever want? A flock of fans, suitors, good looks, talent, and the means for a comfortable life? You closed your eyes and leaned back into the couch, sighing once- deeply and pensively as you thought. When you didn’t answer readily, you felt a shift in weight on the couch, and then her head against your shoulder. Your eyes half opened, glancing downing at the top of her head, taking in the way her hair bent and curled against her shoulders and neck, pushed around in its ponytail as she rested against you and the cushions.
For some reason, it felt like it’d be natural- comfortable, even- for you to tilt your head and rest your cheek against her hair, especially since you did it without even processing it as a thought. You felt her cheek move as her lips curled into what you hoped was a smile.
“If I’m honest, I wasn’t seeking anything other than satisfying my curiosity. I didn’t believe I was actually talking to you, you know? I expected someone or some program to be posing as you.” At first, your words were soft and even a bit serious, but at the end of your confession, you laughed and lifted your head to look at her with a smile. “I didn’t think about what would happen if you actually showed up.”
Midnight lifted her head, brilliantly blue eyes gazing into yours while a grin kissed her lips.
“Well, now that you’ve caught me in your trap…” she began giving you bedroom eyes, her voice a whisper that carried her lust, “what are you going to do to me?~”
You grinned with a chortle, reclining again and gazing at at her with a confidence she couldn’t resist. She crawled over on top of you and stared into your eyes, picking her next move carefully, and then gave you an uncharacteristically sweet smile as she laid down and rested her head against your chest. Was it that obvious that you had no intention of doing that with her tonight? And was she really okay with it?
“Let me show you what I can surround you with, Midnight, and what my presence can offer,” you whispered to her, bringing your hand up to brush through her hair with an affection that not only surprised her, but you as well. “From the way you were quick to fall onto the couch, you must be exhausted. What kind of scenes relax you?” Fingertips brushed through her hair, down her neck, and against her back as you closed your eyes again, listening to her voice as she gave a few examples of different scenes and scenarios that she found relaxing or calmingly pleasurable. You just barely felt the way her jaw moved as she spoke, her voice as soft as yours, the seduction from it quelled. It was strangely soothing, and as silence settled between you two, you found yourself wanting to hear more of it.
“Will you close your eyes for me?” you asked her. She nodded, and you believed her, not bothering to check. “Please wait for me to let you know when to open them again, okay?” Once again, she nodded.
Slowly the savory scent of grilled chicken, squid, fish, and other foods began to mix with the sweetness of caramel, chocolate, and crepes. It seemed to seep in from the walls around you, as did the soft noise of chattering voices, beckoning vendors, and childish laughter, all escorted by lively music. You took a deep breath, your chest rising with Midnight’s head on it, feeling her wiggle a bit on top of you, expressing her curiosity at the smells and sounds that began to occupy your apartment without saying a single word. Warmth beyond your bodies blossomed in the living room, as if you could feel the heat from the vendors’ grills, or perhaps the would-be bodies of the voices that danced around your ears. When you opened your eyes, a satisfied smile was on your lips, and your hand dared to caress her face, tucking her bangs behind her ear and then following her jawline to her chin only to retrace the path and return to her back.
“All set.”
The heroine in your arms gasped and immediately sat up when she opened her eyes, looking around her in awe. Your living room had been completely transformed in the few minutes of quiet you two shared, embraced as if you were long-time lovers. A clear night sky replaced your ceiling, dotted with hanging paper lanterns, and rows of stalls took over two of your walls that faced each other. The other walls disappeared altogether, as yukuta-clad patrons surrounded you both, crowding around food and games and walking into the distance. Midnight reached her hand out to brush the sleeve of a passerby, and it flickered with holographic static before stabilizing again. Seeing her enraptured expression captivated you. She looked so happy, and it was different than that hedonistic joy she so often wore on her face.
Once you were convinced she was comfortable with the illusion, the scene slowly began to change in front of her eyes, as if you pressed “play” and allowed the projection to continue beyond a single moment. It was like being immersed in a virtual reality- you were walking through a festival together as you two laid on the couch. But the music, the warmth, the smells- it all made it so much more convincing than any game could. You even felt a breeze from time to time. And even though you couldn't partake in the food and the games, it was enough of an experience just to walk through the streets. What you created for her was a mix of memories and imagination. The festival was reminiscent of ones you’d attended and spliced together with ones you’ve watched and seen in movies and the news.
“Hey, (Y/N), I almost forgot-” she caught your attention, and the events around you paused. You both sat up as she reached for the bag from earlier. “I brought snacks.~” From it, Midnight pulled out a box of dango. “Now we can really make this feel like a festival date,” she purred, making you blush in the process. Scooting over to her, you smiled as your arm fell around her shoulders, holding her as the festival continued, this time enjoying the same sweets others were carrying around. Instead of handing you your own skewer, the hero held the stick of dumplings up to your mouth, and you couldn’t resist her, eating the little ball of dessert she fed you.
“Midnight?”
“It’s Nemuri to you.~” She nuzzled you as you skipped straight to a first name basis.
“... Nemuri,” you corrected yourself with a fond smile, pausing to appreciate how lovely it felt on your tongue and lips. “May I take you on a proper festival date?” There was no doubt that this was a pleasant time, but your quirk was no replacement for the real thing. You two shared a gaze for a moment before she grinned.
“No.”
Your heart sharply sunk.
“I’m going to take you out on one. You’ve be so good after all.” The huskiness returned to her voice, and this time, it only made you smile broader than you had before around her. She held up another dango to your lips, and as you leaned forward to take it, she pulled the stick away and kissed you as soon as your mouth closed on a bite of air. The morning didn’t go any farther than sharing soft kisses and endearing cuddles, and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep on the couch, holding Nemuri close to you as the festival illusion gave way to sweet dreams instead.
...I’ve been thinking of my own protection; it scares me to feel this way.
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technical-adulting · 6 years ago
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It sure has been a March...
Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, I missed my monthly update and I'm... well, about 18 days late. It's been a hectic month, to say the least, and my ability to stick to my self-scheduled plans has been iffy, but I'm getting back on track. I think I get a little bit seasonal during the winter season, because the last week of February and first week of March were absolutely exhausting to me. I had zero energy and was really struggling to get the things done around the house and in general that I needed to do. Then, my mom and I went to California to visit and help out my uncle, and that was a whole week where I obviously didn't have much time to work on outside projects. I did get some very nice pictures while I was out there thought, and saw the Winchester Mystery House!
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We went to Twentynine Palms a few years back, but we only stayed in the area, dedicated to helping and cleaning that time too. Also, I got sick the moment we got there, so it wasn't a super fun trip. This time we were there longer, and we tried our best to do fun things and explore a bit more, because it's a real morale booster when you're overhauling a house. We got to go to the living desert, and all the way up to San Jose, which is a 7 hour trip from the little area of the desert we were in. It was absolutely beautiful out there, and although it's probably just a pipe dream, I really feel like I could enjoy living out there some day. Of course, I have some much more reasonable goals right now that I'm really trying to get a move on, so I'll just leave that on the back burners and try to convince those I love to come adventure with me again some time soon.
So mom and I still haven't started working on Nana's place, but now that the weather is getting nicer and spring is oh so very close (I can hear the birds, but everything still looks so dead and brown :c) I think that we'll have more opportunities to do so. I'm also actively looking for a job, and was given the suggestion that I should try out the banks, especially since there is a Community Bank in Watkins (closer to where I plan to eventually live). I already put in an application for the phone service at CCU and I'm going to apply for a teller position as well!
My room has reached a state where both sides are functional, although I do still have a few boxes against the back wall I need to go through. My group from Mansfield finally started recording our DnD podcast, so we meet (Mostly bi-weekly) in my room and record, since I have all the professional gear. Mom said she was going to clear out a filing cabinet for me, but that seems to have become a goal by the wayside, since we've been so busy. Most of the remaining stuff is books, and I should really do some spring cleaning with my clothing, but that's always a pain and I don't really want to sit up in my room all day and discover just how many pairs of pants and shorts don't fit anymore. (I get a little stressed about my body image when that happens...) I have only produced one more song, it's on soundcloud. I wasn't sure I wanted to release it everywhere because it's just kinda acoustic and quickly written. Not that I think it's bad, obviously I wouldn't have posted it, haha. Just... I suppose the content itself, which I feel as a deep part of me, is also something that gives me some anxiety at times, as far as publicity goes. It's linked below, nonetheless. [Check that out here]
I'm officially part of the leadership team at my church, but of course, right after I finished the course, I had to go to Cali. So I'm trying my best to re-integrate myself and do the most I can while not putting some of the other pressing things I need to take care of on hold. My audio-drama needs some work soon as well, though there was a holdup with my last actress and I haven't heard from her since, so I suppose I'll need to work on that...
As for my health - I'm on the highest dosage of metformin now, and the birth control seems to be effective in fixing some of the complications of my PCOS. I'm a little concerned, however, that my doctor thinks that the PCOS was caused by my weight. Of course, I am definitely overweight, but not by a lot, and the weight gain has been more recent. (Although I'm kinda muscular and have been a bit above average for a while, I didn't have hardly any tummy flab until my late teens.) She's primarily concerned with making sure my sugar stays low and that I lose weight. Hopefully with spring on the horizon I will be able to work out more often, and get a step up on my cardio, but the band for my fitbit broke, and I don't have any money to replace it as of yet. (Luckily I got a pretty decent tax return, so that should give me a little breathing room while I officially get a new job.) I'm going to look into planning meals with my mom. Thursday night or something we'll sit down and make a plan for the next week. If the doctor says that weight loss should be my primary goal, I might as well give it a good go before really arguing it's contribution to my other issues.
My sleep schedule is thoroughly messed up, but these last two days I've had to be up early for appointments, so at least I've got that. That should help me revert from Cali time, which fit in really nicely with my usual New York sleep schedule. I've re-organized how I sort my time again, just by doubling the amount of time I'll spend on each thing. It seems going in hourly sections works much better than in half hour ones. I'm tired, it's been a rough month so far, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. I'm trying to make sure that the stuff I dedicate time to is worth doing. The sun is returning, spring is so close I can only hope that I have a greater sense of hope as it draws near. I'm just so tired all the time. I'd love to feel rested for once.
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judithbutlersdealer · 6 years ago
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favorite books of 2018
yes I know we’re halfway through January but time isn’t real
goals: read 30 books
don’t read white men/read everyone but white men
at this point I naturally gravitate towards books that aren’t about or by white men so this wasn’t a big issue for me, plus I didn’t have any strict restrictions about Not Allowing Myself to read white men at all or anything, because if a book is good then it’s good and if an author is good then they’re good! I don’t want to willfully rob myself of a good experience, my main objective was just to broaden my horizons and focus overwhelmingly on people who aren’t white men so GOAL ACCOMPLISHED
data ripped from my Goodreads page because I think it’s fun:
69 books
20,879 pages
shortest book: letters to a young poet (52 pages)
longest books: the unabridged journals of sylvia plath (732 pages)
top 10
I Can’t Believe You Just Said That by Danny Wallace
this book was great. Danny Wallace basically meets a Rude Man and it upsets him so much he just starts investigating the history of rudeness. so fun and smart and tender and amazing. I read this book while continuously failing my driving test because the guy who was doing the test was a notorious sadist and I was really just Going Thru It on all fronts and this book was actually such a breath of fresh air right in that period of my life. like yes some people are very terrible and there’s nothing for you to do about that and some people are very good, and you will probably meet an equal mix of both in your life and that’s pretty fascinating, all things considered. great stuff written by a great man.
white man?: yes but Danny Wallace is one of my all-time favorite writers and also human beings so!!! I can’t believe I have less than a year until I go to the same school he went to and move to the city where he lives!!!! what the fuck (please Danny Wallace if you’re reading this don’t get a restraining order I’m actually a quite normal and stable person I swear)
How to Murder Your Life by Cat Marnell
are you an opium memoir, alcohol memoir, or amphetamine memoir type of person? personally I love them all but I used to be an amphetamine person and now I can’t be an amphetamine person so I’m an amphetamine memoir person. I wish people would take this book (and all books like this) more seriously. I took it seriously and it was painful. very fast read, very fun, very sad. can’t ever watch Catfish ever again.
white man?: no
The Idiot by Elif Batuman
WOWWWWWWW this book. this book right here! this fucking book. it ripped out my heart and then fed it to me again. what is it about seeing your own home described so carefully & tenderly & lovingly & with such surgical precision by someone who’s an outsider there? idk but it makes life worth living for me. I’m still 100% convinced that Elif Batuman wrote this book for me, specifically. you guys get to read it and that’s cool because it’s a great book but it was written for me. thank you Elif!!! so generous.
this book punched me in the mouth then kissed me on the forehead then baked me a cake then got me drunk.
white man?: no
Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman
I still haven’t seen the movie, and that should tell you how much this book hurt my heart. it didn’t even hurt it as much as it moved inside it & lived there & probably will for the rest of my life. I read it while trekking through the Alps and also so deeply in love I felt like it would never go away (and it didn’t) and this book just Got It. it didn’t get me as much as it got the concept of love & desire & knowing yourself vs knowing someone else vs knowing the two of you together. the whole book is one long, breathless sentence. there’s a quote I sometimes use on my blog to tag stuff and it’s “desire is always leaving the door open” and that’s what this book is about.
white man?: yes
Changing My Mind by Zadie Smith
this is the book I’ll always read when I want to remind myself how much smarter I can be.
white man?: no
Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher
perfect book to read on a rocky beach on the Côte d'Azur in late August. equal parts glossy fun & thought-provoking. all in all I’m really thankful that Carrie Fisher found the strength to write as much as she did throughout her life, and I’m thankful that I found her books this year
white man?: no
The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry
perfect Christmas break-read. this book is so different from what I usually read (I pretty much never read historical fiction & whenever I try I just can’t get into it) but something just drew me to it & I needed something to read while sprawled out on the couch post-Christmas dinner, so I bought it on a whim and I’m so glad I did! the prose was great, the characterization fantastic, and the whole premise of the book was just cool as fuck tbh. unnerving & sad & tender & so so so lovely. the ending was strange and perfect just like the whole book. makes you Think and Feel.
white man?: no
Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney
perfect plane-read. perfect read for the end of a week when you’ve visited your extended family back home & you've interacted with so many people & they’re all so complicated in their own way & it’s all been a lot and you just want someone to look inside your head and go, look, I understand, here, have some spiked lemonade. this book did exactly that! everything in it is relatable. it’s like you do all these small things throughout the day, and then it turns out that someone has noticed them all and they have been writing notes on them and one day they finally show you, but in a non-creepy way. very smart book, very entertaining, makes you ponder stuff that you maybe used to think was insignificant.
white man?: no
Reborn by Susan Sontag
reading this while feeling manic and hopped up on like five cups of green tea and black coffee was an Experience. smart. sad. hopeful. intimidating. mostly, what this book did was make me feel a lot less alone. like there was a woman out there whose brain was also going 200 mp/h all the time and she was also constantly in search of intellectual simulation and nothing was enough and she knew she had things to say but she had no one to say it to, and she was afraid of the future just as much as she fetishized it, and she didn’t always feel the right things in the right situations but she somehow managed. and in the end she found ways to fulfill herself and she found ways in which she could excel and she found work that was satisfying (and I say this with zero intent of romanticizing anything about Sontag’s life). so maybe there’s hope for all of us who are constantly bouncing off the walls and always feel like we’re living behind a glass wall.
white man?: no
Secondhand Time by Svetlana Alexievich
definitely the hardest book to read of 2018. it’s so scary to imagine not just how much work Svetlana Alexavitch put into this book, but also how much it must have hurt her, emotionally, and how many times she must have wanted to abandon it all and lie down and just take a really long nap, because it was all so painful (or maybe she’s a much better and more productive person than I am and she never had those thoughts) anyways this was 100% a book where I was like, I hate all of this but I need to know these things so I’ll push through. everything my parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles have ever told me was in this book, except it was all jammed up on steroids. but I know I need to learn about and understand their history better, even if it’s super painful, especially because it’s super painful! and especially because it’s not my history. I’m so glad this book won the Nobel Prize & I’ll never listen to anyone who thinks otherwise.
white man?: no
comments:
I’m satisfied with myself, I read more than twice the amount I originally set out to read, I read a wide variety of genres and subjects, I read a lot of books I liked, I read a lot of books that have been sitting on my TBR for a very long time, I didn’t read too many white men!!! I originally made it my goal to read 30 books because I was balls deep in a horrible depressive episode in late 2017/early 2018 and I just fully couldn’t even read a chapter of anything without getting a panic attack, so 30 books was an ambitious but still achievable goal. it’s nothing compared to how much I read when I’m doing better, but I was really struggling back then and frankly I wasn’t even sure I’d accomplish this much, so I’m very happy with my progress. I also pushed myself to read books that were difficult to read for different reasons and powered through many of them, which I’m also proud of. the second half of 2019 is going to be insane, but I still want to set myself the goal of reading 40 books, which I think I can realistically accomplish in the first half of the year, if things really do get so crazy hectic that I won’t have the time to read AT ALL later in the year, which it hopefully won’t. but I think 40 is a nice and realistic goal. we’ll see!!!
ultimately, this was the year I explicitly decided that I wanted to be a well-read person, that reading a lot was an important priority in my life, and it’s important to me that I push myself to continue to read a lot, because 1) it makes me a better person and 2) it makes me happy. so deciding to challenge myself to read as much as possible and actually set myself reading goals and challenges and then invest time and energy in accomplishing them has been an important consequence of this year’s reading challenge and it’s definitely something that’s going to affect how I read in the future. OKAY NERD EPISODE OVER BYE
(big thanks to Muffy @whitegirlblog for the inspiration 🤓)
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mizmahlia · 6 years ago
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You Have No Idea Who I Am
For @aniseandspearmint
Thanks for the request! Enjoy! :)
Angsty Dialog Prompt #26: “You have no idea who I am.” Tim groaned and laid his head down on his desk, his forehead making contact with a dull thud. The pile of paperwork to his left shifted and toppled over the side of the desk onto the floor. He made no move to pick it up, instead closing his eyes and sighing. He was tired. It wasn’t the ‘it’s been a long night’ kind of tired, nor was it the ‘I’m three days into a case and I’m almost done’ kind of tired. No, this was the ‘half of Arkham has escaped, I’m still sore from the last time, and I’m being pulled in four different directions’ kind of tired. He’d been in meetings with Lucius and the finance board most of the day after being awake for two days dealing with the aftermath of an attack by Victor Fries. He was supposed to meet Dick at the Manor tonight to prep for a takedown of drug smugglers in Bludhaven and also somehow be working with Bruce on developing more detailed encryption software for the cave computer. Clearly, one or more of those things was not going to happen tonight.
He picked his head up off his desk and sighed again, glancing down at the puddle of papers scattered across the floor. Before he even considered picking it up, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he heard a cat purring somewhere to his right. He shook his head. "Hey, Klarion." Klarion appeared from the shadows behind the door to Tim's office. Teekl meowed and leaped onto the desk before laying down on the report he'd been reading minutes earlier. Tim just stared at him, unable to think clearly enough to shoo the strange cat off his desk. "Tim. You look.. what's the word?" Klarion snapped his fingers and smiled. "You look exhausted." Klarion sat down on the arm rest of the small sofa across from Tim's desk, beckoning Teekl. He jumped from the edge of the desk to the couch, sending more paper to the floor. Tim collapsed against the back of the chair and rubbed his temples. He could feel a migraine coming. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Is Teekl in danger again?" Klarion shook his head and ran his knuckles gently down Teekl's spine. The cat arched his back and began kneading the cushion. "No, not this time. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I owe you a favor." Tim's face scrunched into a frown. "What? That was years ago. You don't owe me anything. Why are you really here?" Klarion's mouth twitched into a smile as he rolled his eyes. "Ever the cynic. I check in on you from time to time to make sure you're okay. After all that time spent abroad chasing down leads on you-know-who a few years ago, you had me a bit worried." Tim's eyes went wide and he slouched in his chair, forgetting about the impending migraine, how itchy his eyes felt from lack of sleep and that he hadn't eaten in about twenty hours. Klarion had been watching him for some time, apparently. His face flushed and he focused his gaze on Teekl, his voice going quiet. "I'm fine now. Bruce was alive and he found his way back. I lost myself for a little while, but I had some friends pull me back." "Lucky for you. But I'm not here to check on you because of that- I know most of that is behind you. I'm here because I sensed you needed some help and I wanted to offer some of mine." His eyes studied Tim closely, his expression unreadable. "So what's got you troubled?" Tim bit the inside of his cheek and looked around the room. In the last three hours, he'd made almost zero progress on the budget reports. His phone had eight un-read text messages and almost a dozen missed phone calls. Some were from Dick, several were from Bruce and there was one missed call from Steph. Knowing he couldn't lie to Klarion because he wouldn't leave until Tim accepted his help, he decided to just come clean. "I have too many things to do and not enough time or energy to get to everything." He gestured to the screen on his phone, which was flashing with another text notification. Klarion glanced at the phone and the papers scattered throughout the room. He held his hand up and twirled his fingers in a circle once, then twice, and before Tim could say anything, all of his paperwork was stacked neatly on his desk and his phone screen was dark. Klarion smiled. "Give me something that's a bit more challenging. Would you like me to go visit Bruce? Or that Grayson fellow?" His eyes lit up, glowing brightly in the darkness. "Or I could go see that delightful Stephanie and assist her." Tim smiled and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He couldn't even begin to imagine Klarion working with Bruce in the cave. Admittedly, he kind of wanted to see it. "No, it's okay. I just... Sometimes I wish they would forget I existed for a little while so I have a chance to catch up, you know?" He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands, wincing because his eyelids felt like sandpaper. "I can do a lot of things, but fixing everything isn't one of them." He yawned and opened his eyes. Klarion was grinning mischievously, dusting his hands together as he stood up. "I think I can help with that." Tim felt his heart drop into his stomach. He could smell the spice of Klarion's magic and he abruptly stood up and hurried around the desk, knocking his chair over backwards. "What did you do?" "Nothing that will hurt anyone, I promise. I'm only giving you what you want. What you need." He gently took Tim by the shoulders and steered him toward the couch, shooing away Teekl with stern look. "Now lie down and get some rest. Things will be better when you wake up." Tim tried to protest, but as soon as the backs of his knees bumped against the couch, he felt his eyelids droop and his body begin to relax. "Klarion, don't..." Klarion picked up his feet and helped Tim settle in before gently touching his fingers to Tim's forehead. "Shhh. Just sleep, my friend." Before he could protest further, he was asleep and Klarion disappeared. Teekl looked at Tim from the doorway and meowed before scampering after Klarion. "Yes, Teekl. I think we helped him a great deal. Come along."
Tim opened his eyes to see sun shining through the window and hear a soft knocking on his office door. "Come in." He sat up and rubbed his eyes before glancing at his watch. It was just after six-thirty. He stifled a yawn when Lucius entered. "Good morning, Mister Drake. Long night?" He set a cup of coffee on Tim's desk, raising his eyebrows at the enormous stack of paperwork. "You could say that." Tim stood and stretched, wincing at the stiffness in his back and shoulders. Lucius was leaning over the desk, flipping through the reports and spreadsheets. "Tim, this looks incredible. I can't believe you managed to finish." Tim choked on his coffee and Lucius politely pretended not to notice. "Uh, yeah. I finished just a few hours ago. How does it look?" He cautiously peered over Lucius's shoulder and read along. The figures were what they should be and he closed his eyes in relief. Lucius closed the report and nodded. "It's exactly what we needed. I'll bring everything downstairs to be prepped and copied." He gathered the paperwork and turned to leave, stopping in the doorway. "Why don't you take some time and go home to get changed? I'll meet you in the conference room at eight-thirty." Tim nodded and Lucius left. He stared out the window at the city as it came to life. What else had Klarion been up to? The day passed in a blur as Tim went from meeting to meeting. He hadn't had a chance to meet with Bruce yet as he'd had his own hectic schedule to attend to. It wasn't unusual for their meetings not to overlap, but Tim had a bad feeling as the day wore on. He just couldn't put his finger on it and Klarion was nowhere to be found. When he'd finally had a few minutes to check his phone around three that afternoon, the messages from the night before were still there. He brought up a text from Dick- the time stamp was from eleven last night. You on your way? Bit worried about you. The messages after that were all the same. Dick telling him he was worried, that it wasn't like him to be late. The last one told him to call as soon as he could. That one was from four that morning. Tim cringed as he brought up Dick’s number; he was in for a lecture. Dick answered on the third ring. "Hello?" "Hey, Dick. Sorry I'm so late getting back to you. Last night sort of got away from me." There was a pause. "I'm sorry to hear that, but who is this?" Tim looked at his phone, making sure it was actually Dick he'd called. It was indeed Dick's number and he brought the phone back up to his ear. "Very funny. It's Tim. How's the planning for that op in Bludhaven? Do you still need my help?" There was a sharp inhale on the other end and several seconds of silence. Tim frowned. "I don't know who you think you are, Tim, so listen closely. I don't know you, I don't know how you got this number, but if you're as smart as you seem? You won't call back again." Tim was about to reply when Dick hung up on him. He stared at the phone in his hand, wondering what the hell was going on. Dick liked a practical joke more than most, but this? This didn't feel like one of his usual pranks. He brought up Dick's number again but before he could call him back, Lucius poked his head into the hallway. "Tim? We're ready to get started again." He looked up and nodded at Lucius before opening a new text to Steph. He quickly tapped a message to her before turning off the phone and putting it in his pocket. As he entered his fourth meeting of the day, he couldn't help but notice the knot of dread that he'd felt earlier grow heavier, sitting like a lead weight in his gut. What had Klarion done?
It was dark by the time he got back to his apartment, his last meeting running much later than planned. He sat down on his bed and loosened his tie, checking messages he'd missed in the meantime. He had several from Steph. Um, who is this? I don't recall dialing a number I don't recognize. Thirty minutes later there was another one: Hello? Who the hell is this? And when she didn't get an answer, the final message came five minutes after that: Whatever. Consider yourself blocked, creep. Tim tossed the phone on the bed behind him and covered his face in his hands. Whatever Klarion had done had really made a mess of things. Hopefully, when he saw Bruce on patrol in a little while, he could fix it. He suited up and went to the roof, bringing up his gauntlet computer. He frowned at the red dot on the screen. What was Bruce doing up here? He turned around to see Batman standing on the ledge about fifteen feet from him, his enormous arms crossed over his chest. "Batman, I'm glad to see you. Listen, I..." "Who are you, what were you doing in this building, and where did you get the technology you're using?" Tim's jaw dropped open and he closed the screen, completely missing the second dot appear on the display before it went dark. "What are you talking about? I live here, B." He gestured to his gauntlet computer and the bandoliers criss-crossing his chest. "And I developed all of this myself, with some help from Lucius. You should know all of that." He carefully approached Batman, watching in utter confusion as Batman drew his grapple and a set of restraints. "The penthouse in this building has been vacant for months. I don't know who you think you are, but you're coming with us." Tim felt the pinch of a needle in his neck and he turned to see Robin tuck a syringe back in one of the pouches on his belt. He legs grew wobbly beneath him and he started to fall forward. "Bruce, wait. I can explain.." Before he had the chance, everything went black.
He woke up on the floor in their secondary detention facility, the one near Amusement Mile. He wasn't restrained, though his wrists were sore so he knew he had been at one point. The room was bare and windowless, the walls and floor painted a dull grey. He sighed and rubbed his neck where Damian had stuck him with the syringe.
He crawled to his feet and sat down on the empty cot. He was still woozy from the sedative and he had no idea how long he'd been out. Based on how stiff his arms and legs were, he'd say several hours. "Come on, guys. I know you're watching me. I helped configure the surveillance in this building, remember?" A few seconds later, the door opened and Dick entered in full Nightwing dress. Tim looked up and frowned; his body language was all wrong. Dick maintained his distance, staying outside of Tim's reach, and his back and shoulders were rigid. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. To some, the move looked like a casual one. To Tim it looked like a panther crouched and ready to pounce. "You're the one who called me this afternoon." Tim sighed. "Yeah, Dick, I did. We were supposed to meet last night so I could help you with that op in Bludhaven." He didn't miss the way the muscles in Dick's jaw set, nor did he miss his hands curling into fists. "Where did you get that information?" Tim stood up and wobbled for a moment, shaking his head. "I'm your teammate, that's how. We work together, all of us." Dick pushed off the wall and grabbed Tim's bandoliers, spinning him and slamming him up against the wall. Tim winced when the back of his head hit the concrete surface. I guess that was the wrong answer. Before Dick could ask him anything else, Tim raised his arms and broke Dick's hold, shoving him backward. He then kicked Dick in the chest, careful to place the kick where his body armor was the strongest, and sent him careening into the wall behind him. "Dick, just stop.. let me explain." They both turned as the door opened again and Batman, Red Hood and Robin entered. Tim didn't bother checking to see if he had any kind of weapon on him; they'd surely stripped him of any of that as soon as he was unconscious. The four of them formed a semi-circle, trapping him in the corner. Seriously?! They think I'm that big of a threat? Jason spoke first. He was still wearing his helmet and his deep, filtered voice bounced off the walls of the tiny room. "One last chance to answer the questions, punk. It'll be much easier for you to just play along." Tim took a defensive stance, bringing his hands up in front of him. Damian spoke next. "Tt. Please. As if you stand a chance against the four of us." Tim shrugged. "Perhaps not, but I know how each of you fight. You can't say the same." Tim could practically feel Damian's eyes narrow behind his mask. Dick and Bruce looked at each other, Dick shrugging one shoulder. Jason removed his jacket and tossed it into the corner behind him. "Let's prove that theory." The four of them rushed at Tim and he blocked their blows as fast as he could, but he couldn't block everything. Both Bruce and Jason managed to land several kicks and punches, but because they were in such a cramped space, they weren't as painful as he'd anticipated. His ribs would be sore tomorrow, but he didn't think anything was broken. He didn't even bother with offensive maneuvers because he was so outnumbered, so he just continued trying to block their attacks. Jason and Bruce continued to attack his upper body, while Damian wove between them trying to get to Tim's legs. Tim narrowly avoided one of Damian's kicks at the side of his knee, but while he was deflecting that, Bruce's elbow struck his chest and knocked him backward, right into Jason. Jason wasted no time and wrapped his massive arms around him, but Tim knew it was coming and using Jason's size against him, he broke the hold and threw Jason into Damian. They both tumbled to the floor. In the confusion, Dick managed to get behind him and sweep Tim's legs from under him, and as soon as he hit the floor Jason and Damian pounced on his arms and legs. He immediately stopped struggling and looked up at Bruce. Jason had his left arm wrenched behind him and he applied more pressure to his shoulder, causing Tim to grunt. He turned his head and looked at Jason, glaring at him. "Jason, come on. I'm not even trying to get up, here. Knock it off." Tim felt Jason tense at hearing his name and he braced himself for the punch he knew Jason would throw. He turned his head at the last second and the blow glanced off his jaw instead of breaking his nose. Tim closed his eyes and hung his head until the pain faded and his breathing wasn't so labored. They weren't going easy on him. Jason rolled away from him, and Dick and Damian hauled him to his feet and dumped him on the cot. Tim rubbed his jaw and stared at the floor a moment, thinking back to his encounter with Klarion last night. He shook his head and leaned back until his back met the wall. He looked up to see Bruce standing directly in front of him with Dick and Damian flanking him. Jason was off to the side, putting on his jacket. Tim brought his legs up and rested his arms on his knees. There was no fighting his way out, and without any of his gear he couldn't hack into anything to cause a distraction or gain some kind of advantage. He was screwed. He looked up at all of them and shook his head. "I'm not going to fight you. Despite what you think, I'm not a threat. I’m on your side." Bruce stepped forward and hauled Tim to his feet. Tim held his hands out to the side, palms open. "You're a threat of the highest order. You’ll remain here until I say otherwise." Bruce let him go and turned to leave. Jason, Dick and Damian followed. Tim watched as Bruce opened the door and ushered Damian out first. He shook his head and his shoulders slumped in defeat as he collapsed onto the cot. “You really have no idea who I am.” Bruce and Dick stopped, turning to look at him. Bruce said nothing. Dick glanced sideways at Bruce as he spoke. "Should we?" Tim carefully stretched out on the cot, minding his sore ribs. He stared at the ceiling as he answered, his voice quiet even in the small room. "I'm just your brother, Dick. No big deal." He rolled over and faced the wall, shutting his eyes. The migraine that threatened last night was now back in full force. He heard the door shut and lock behind him and the room went completely dark. He laughed bitterly; they thought the dark would scare him? He closed his eyes and tried to relax, focusing on anything but the migraine. But then he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and Teekl meowed. Tim sighed. "Took you long enough, Klarion."
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c4mpbutch · 3 years ago
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Before i left to the library me and Reuben were reminiscing on how when our toddler was born i’d stay up obscenely late with them asleep on my chest writing assignments for my TEFL course, or some nights i’d come to this library until gone 3am. Reuben reminded me that we were so happy. We really were. I am sure the sleep deprivation and stress were there but I don’t really remember that, today. Just pure overwhelming love for that tiny human and a huge motivating force to get shit done, to do better and get where i needed to be for my family.
Maybe I won’t remember this period of hardship the way it feels now, either. I’ve been crying everyday, completely out of control when it hits, spiralling at the slightest thing, feeling totally swept over by any unforeseen issue. But my therapist reminds me it could just be the flux, the changing tides between being highly medicated and going cold-turkey. I’m better this week than I was last. And between the periods of helplessness and hopelessness I am making positive steps, I am reaching out, I am asking for help, I am proactively taking control of my future. Without really realising I am desperately finding ways to make things easier for me to continue onwards.
Maybe I’ll remember this time as stressful and hectic but ultimately a time of struggle to achieve what I need to. When baby was born I was unemployed, I needed work that was from home and manageable in terms of energy levels. So I did that course, faced a lot of fears to do so, and got the job. Two years on, that job doesn’t exist anymore and even before then it stopped being enough, it stopped working for me. So Here I Am one year into my LLM, the first Big Step to a legal career. Something I dreamt of when I was younger and feel called to more so now. And I’m doing it. I’m attending seminars, lectures, workshops, extracurriculars. I’m part of societies and organisations and access schemes. I’ve two mini-pupillages lined up at amazing(!) chambers’ and a mentor who’s supporting my vacation scheme applications at a dream firm. I’m chasing up volunteer opportunities at courts and in prisons. Some days I can barely do anything but most days I do more than I feel able. If I do this, whatever the next steps I am quite certain that financially my family and I will never again be in as bad a position as we are now. And of course finances aren’t everything, but when you’re on zero income and living in a terrible 1-bed council flat next to a nightmare neighbour, money or lack of it has a heightened impact.
Today I feel hopeful in ways I haven’t in a while. 
I will graduate next October. I will get a legal job next winter. I will find a way to continue on to becoming a lawyer if that’s the path that shows itself. We will have safe, secure housing. We will take a fucking week long holiday somewhere that isn’t my parents house. This time, the agony of it, will start to fade and I will remember it with strange romanticism for its place in our family story. 
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boymeetsweevil · 7 years ago
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the min booty diaries - 01
Grouping: Reader x Yoongi
Word Count: 1.7k, pg13ish
Summary: “Perhaps he’s biased, but Yoongi’s pretty damn sure he could solve all your problems if you’d just give him a few hours to blow your back out”
a/n: body image/weight talk, i need to stop in general
prologue, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4
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You feel the hairs on the back of your neck bristle for the fifth time that night and turn to glare at Yoongi from where he’s seated on your couch. He smiles oddly at you for a moment before returning his gaze to his phone. You frown at his cryptic behavior and scrub a hand over the back pocket of your slacks; feeling for crumbs, stray threads, a rip, literally anything that could be the reason for why he was constantly staring. When you don’t find anything out of the ordinary, you send him a warning scowl and return to work.
It’s not that you don’t like Yoongi looking at you, but things are complicated. The novelty of Yoongi’s near-devilish charm still hasn’t died off, still just as potent as ever. After spending most of your life as “the shy one”, you haven’t completely shaken the habit of getting flustered when people paid special attention to you. All of this combined that means that all Yoongi has to do is look at you like any enamored boyfriend would and you’ll squirm. Usually, you can ease some of the irrational stress by reminding yourself that he’s looking at you ‘like that’ simply because he wants to. Lately, though, he seems to be looking because he’s trying to figure out some sort of conundrum. You wonder if he’s quietly scrutinizing your new weight gain.
You’re not completely naïve and you’re pretty in tune with your body. You’re very much aware that you’ve put on some weight since starting the project. You might not mind so much if Yoongi wasn’t surrounded by tiny trainee girls in the music video released for this comeback season. From a logical standpoint, you know nothing would happen for a few reasons. The first being that Yoongi isn’t interested in the much younger girls on set. The second reason being that Yoongi is very fond of you. The third being that he has absolutely no time for ‘something on the side’. But you can’t help but wonder if maybe both your hectic schedules and your skittish demeanor would ever make him turn to other people. Yoongi watches from the couch as you think yourself into a downward spiral about something probably not work-related. He knows he’s partially to blame for you spacing out with a worried look on your face. It’s because you caught him staring. Again.
While he’s not sure why anyone catching their significant other checking them out might send them into a fit of despair, he’s going to assume there’s a good reason for it. He knows you’re shy and that when he gets particularly amorous, it sets you into a flustered tizzy. But he really can’t help it. From where he’s sitting, he has a nice view of where you’re working with your back to him; standing, because he knows sitting blocks your thought process. It’s clear that your work slacks fit tighter than they usually do, no longer that conservatively loose fit and toeing the line of cheeky. Who wouldn’t stare?
“Goddamn,” he whispers, surprising both himself and you by breaking the silence in your living room.
“Hey, Yoongi?”
“Yeah?” He snaps his eyes up from your ass to the sight of you giving him a nervous look, lower lip trapped apologetically between your teeth. If he tries hard enough, he can almost forget your current situation and turn the sight of you looking at him with doe eyes into something he only sees as of late behind his closed eyelids during special nights alone with his right hand.
“I know I said it would be cool for you to stay here while I worked, but I think I’m getting distracted, and I’m really behind for today. Do you think maybe we could take a raincheck on hanging out?” He sighs, but gives you a small smile so you know he’s not mad. He supposes this is karma for winding you up.
“No, problem. Make sure you eat something, Smalls,” he says as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead and gestures to the now-cold takeout he brought you, knowing you had probably skipped lunch and would likely work through dinner if you had it your way. “Don’t want you wasting away.” You try not to read into his last comment too much as you watch him toe on his shoes.
When he leaves, you want to ignore his request, but the smell of spicy wings still lingers though the food isn’t hot anymore. Soon you find yourself watching a plate piled high with chicken spin in the microwave with no recollection of how you even got to your kitchen. After eating, you lay on your stomach across the couch as you review spreadsheets and try not to fall into a food coma. Silently, you pledge to look up some workouts to do at home after you finish reviewing some reference graphs your team sent you.
You keep your promise to yourself and after you finish your work for the night, you spend an hour dodging the weird side of YouTube, managing to find a series of yoga videos that promise to keep you fit if you do them every day for 30 minutes. You figure you can manage dedicating a half an hour of your precious time to making sure you don’t feel guilty all the time.
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The next time Yoongi comes over, you tell him about your new home workout regimen. He listens politely as he watches you putter around in your baggiest sweats and chatter about this routine you found that’s been giving you more energy. When you suggest he watch and see if it’s something he’d like to do with you, he nods, knowing full well he won’t see anything worth doing. Yoga is not his thing unless its corpse pose with a pillow and blanket. He still watches because he’s glad you’re feeling a little less stressed and he wants to be engaged during his short time with you.
Unfortunately for Yoongi, watching you do thirty minutes of yoga turns out to be the most stressful half hour he’s ever experienced. That is, he’s fairly certain he’s never been harder in his whole life. The whole video seemed to be a series of poses that did nothing but put your ass on display. First it was the cat pose, which Yoongi thinks would be more accurately titled doggy pose for obvious reasons. Then it was the rock pose, which still reminded him of doggy style and not at all of rocks. He nearly laughs at how cruel the universe is when you get into downward dog. When you finally end the video with a wide-legged forward bend stretch, he quickly adjusts his boner and fumes silently.
While he knows for sure he won’t be doing the yoga with you, he certainly enjoys watching you do yoga. Perhaps he enjoys it too much, but he can’t really do anything about it because he’s giving you some space right now. The stress of the project has you so frazzled that you won’t even let him give you a backrub. He’s sure it’s because you’re not feeling comfortable in your own skin at the moment, so he wants to give you some time to become comfortable again. The only problem is that lately he wants to touch you more than ever. Perhaps he’s biased, but Yoongi’s pretty damn sure he could solve all your problems if you’d just give him a few hours to blow your back out.
Yoongi breathes harshly out his nose before excusing himself to your bathroom. It seems that imagining all the ways he could make you forget your stress isn’t a good idea given the current state of things. You furrow your brows at his sudden departure from the room and wonder if he’s mad you made him watch the 30 minute video. Knowing how patient he usually is has you convinced he can’t actually be mad you made him put his phone down for half an hour to watch a video. You wonder if maybe your stress is rubbing off on him and walk down the hall to the bathroom to talk with him. When you call his name quietly, you don’t get a response. You press your ear to the door, about to call his name once more when you hear the tell-tale sound of Yoongi jerking off.
Even though the last time you had sex was about 2 month ago, you’re still well attuned to the sounds of Yoongi when he’s near his peak. The sounds coming from the other side of your bathroom door are the very same sounds. Yoongi, normally stoic, is a bit more vocal when he’s in ecstasy. There’s a symphony of low whines wrapping around the syllables of your name and slowly his strange behavior doesn’t seem so strange anymore.
You walk back to the living room with warm cheeks and can’t look Yoongi in the eye when he comes out of the bathroom ten minutes later, making a lame excuse about having to go pick something up at the dorm before practice. You don’t call his bluff and instead study his awkward movements as he gathers his things and prepares to leave. Instead, you elect to test your hypothesis.
You bend over to grab at the hat he brought that must have fallen on the floor from its spot on the couch. The quiet curse you hear while you take your time scooping up the garment is all the confirmation you need. When you stand up and look over your shoulder at him, you see him with his head cocked and his mouth a little slack. His eyes, usually dark and liquid like ink, are like sharp obsidian zeroed in on your lower back. You smile saccharinely at him. “I guess this is goodbye for now,” he breathes, looking far away and hungry. You take advantage of how pliant he is in his nearly-hypnotized state and place a soft kiss on his slack mouth before walking him to the door.
“That’s okay. I’ll see you soon.” You watch him nod slowly as he comes out of his daze now that you’re throwing him out. It’s in that moment that you decide to have fun with your knowledge of Yoongi’s new weakness. The startled look he gives you when you give him a sharp smack on the butt to get him outside your door quicker is priceless.
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a-void-problems · 4 years ago
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It has been going on for months now. I feel terribly overwhelmed and like I'm being choked by everything around me including the air I breathe.
There is something up with my brain which doesn't let me do what I want.
I don't feel happy. I live skipping from anxiety to depression and sometimes both at the same time. It's horrifying. And honestly it's been going on for years but the pain of the consequences and the pain of someone finding out was greater than the pain and effort it took to manage it.
I always barely did everything. I barely passed I barely made it I barely managed to study I barely managed to hide the fact that I was very close to failing. Because my grades weren't bad it seemed alright. But it was a constant struggle. I was lucky that my brain happened to do things well by itself sometimes. I never studied i could never get organized i never did homework and I could barely focus. But thankfully some things were interesting. I had teachers I didn't want to disappoint. I had classmates I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of. I had the benefit of the fact that others didn't seem to care that much. And I am smart. That's a fact which helped. I have knowledge I just don't know how to manage the knowledge.
I passed high school. It was a lot of anxiety and sometimes spurs of depression but not like before.
There were still other things that I was already used to living with, of course. The social anxiety stopping me from most things. But it was the only life I knew so it seemed normal. I was used to that.
How to describe university in 3 words?
Stress. Anxiety. Pain.
It was fucking painful. It is painful.
Suddenly things started to have to take more time and more work and meanwhile my anxiety was through the roof. Added was the stress of living far from home and everything being new. I wasn't in my safe little class with 10 people anymore. This was more real. This was really painful.
Panic attacks before almost every class. Anxiety while talking to everyone.
There were interesting things. Not a lot of them. First set of exams came around. I did well for some actually. Why, because I learned how to quickly manage information through dumb luck, associations and adrenaline.
I passed but it took so so much work. It was like I had already started with one piece of paper while others got a full notebook. And now the page I had was ripped in half.
I had a week of rest. I was happy. I had hope. New start. Pandemic hit.
I did nothing for some classes while still feeling the most anxious and depressed ever. I was with my family again which didn't make the situation better just different. I hated lying about how I was feeling. I sat in bed thinking about getting up. I stood in my room walked around. I sat at the desk staring at the screen my heart shaking non stop. I sat at the table eating dinner, crying on the inside while telling a joke.
I remember both trying very hard and still being mad at myself because there were no results. I felt even more stupid because I knew somewhere within me there was that ability to do it, but then even after trying my best the result of that effort was bad. And it took a lot of pain to even attempt anything. I started skipping assignments. I didn't feel the repercussions. I just felt less pain. (I was nothing but a rat in a lab, pressing a button).
A seminar. I laid in bed for days. I finished it. I cried a lot in frustration.
More exams. Other anxieties. Apartments. Money. People. Those were cold days. It was painful.
The half of that piece of paper was now ripped in half again. I made it but at a great cost.
Burning a candle at both ends it was finally starting to get smaller.
There was summer and I don't remember it. Good days mixed with bad days. It didn't last long. I remember a few days in Cavtat. Not much else.
It was time to leave home again.
It was time to be an adult again. I did it. I found an apartment by myself. I talked to the woman, I signed papers. I cleaned everything and moved to a new place. I was happy. It was beautiful.
I was there then. Positive. But I didn't have time to celebrate because it was time for exams and a lot of them. This was a particularly bad month.
I was alone for weeks. I went outside for food. I started drinking to relax because otherwise I couldn't go to sleep. I would sit at my desk all day, trying but with zero results.
I remember the week between my cel exams. I remember failing and then lying in bed and not doing anything about it even though I knew I should have. It didn't matter. At the time I didn't want to be alive.
I had panic attacks. I sobbed on the floor regularly. I didn't change my sheets. I showered rarely. I never vacuumed.
This was the only time I kinda talked to my mom about it. I was honest. I tried and it still wasn't working out. I was almost at the end of my sanity.
But somehow at the almost end of the candle, right before it went out, I passed as many classes as I needed and the light didn't dim. I was at the edge of my sanity and then it worked out. But I never moved from the edge.
I got home.
There were other things to deal with then. We had moved. I was distracted by that. But it was good. We were here at home during the week. I was able to rest I think. I don't remember what I did. I think I was sick for some time. During the weekends we went back to our old place. At the time that was fun too. I was busy with applying to new classes. It was hectic but it was like that for everyone. Soon enough classes started again. I didn't like the fact that I was still home for a bit but that was about to change.
I left in the evening and I remember crying in the bus.
The next day with barely an hour of sleep and a short nap I went to a real class. I went to my university. It was great. I remembered the good times. The class was interesting. I think I was happy. Sadly it crumbled pretty fast.
I was once again alone.
The apartment was getting messier. It's not that I wanted it to, it's that I couldn't do anything about it.
There were good things there. I started knitting. I watched a fun show. But honestly I was still always late for everything, doing my best to be on time and do everything and still barely managing it. I couldn't make myself read things. I could sit for hours doing nothing but attempting it and still get nothing done. I started drinking more again. I went for a coffee with friends and joked about not reading some stuff for class. They asked how i wasn't bored enough to just do it. I stared blankly as if anxiety alone wasn't enough to fill my days. I was never bored, I couldn't afford to be because boredom meant more pain and I'd learned to do everything to avoid it.
One night I lied in bed for hours. Soon enough it was 5 am and i simply got up and started doing things with my hands so I wouldn't go insane. I folded and organized every piece of clothing in my apartment and then washed all the dishes that had been piling up. At this point the dishes situation was just another heavy obstacle I didn't have the energy to deal with.
I think I started going for food more rarely. I endulged in sweets and alcohol as much as I could. I fantasised about going to therapy. I talked about it to my friend. I wanted to do it. Instead I cried myself to sleep or distracted myself from thinking about anything. I got into the habit of listening to mindless music after having a drink or two. It helped me sleep. It didn't help me get up.
Every day was a struggle. Minute by minute it was a pain. As if every bone in my body was broken and I had to keep moving. A cel test came and passed. I drank millions of cans of whichever energy drink was easier to buy just because it would help me focus a little bit. I tried and when I managed to get through some kind of barrier it worked but at that point I had already been so far behind I simply couldn't really make it all up with one night. I did something at least. I also talked with my mom about her situation about dad who was still in dubai at that point. I was surprisingly not too upset with that. I already knew some things and then again I had many more of my own problems to deal with.
The sheer task of going to the store or throwing out the trash was enough of an activity for a whole day.
It was time to go back home. I did.
It was weird to still have classes. I stayed longer than anticipated because more things were closing down again and I didn't want to get stuck up in Zagreb. I stressed about rent talking to the lady and other stupid money squabbles. There was the whole issue of my old phone being awful and the process of getting a new one that was unbelievably stressful. After some time I started skipping more classes. I tried doing things. It wouldn't work.
The only good thing was the weekends. Franka was here and we could have the old house to ourselves for 2 days and it was great. We drank and danced and hanged out. Sundays always felt inspiring. But by the Monday evening I'd wanted it to be the weekend again. I talked about my issues with her. I said it, I finally spoke the words out loud. I didn't want to be alive. I was sad.
I decided to go to Zagreb to pick up my stuff. I wanted the holidays to be perfect and I just wasn't previously prepared to stay that long. I was actually really looking foward to the drive for a long time. The way there was wonderful. I got there, I was happy. It was cold. I couldn't sleep. I had the last class. That night I wanted to kill myself. I wished no one cared about me so I could. I realized there was no problem with any single place, the problem was me existing anywhere.
I walked around stores to keep occupied. Franka came around and it was a bit of a weird day but it was good to see her. We almost froze to death and we were stupid but at least I laughed. It took me long to fall asleep again.
It was time to leave. I don't remember how I felt. The bus ride was good. I listened to books. I accomplished something.
I got home. I was happy for that.
There was another day of classes.
I survived it. Those were some easy ones. Somehow it was easy not to panic when they talked about exams. Like I had already decided I wouldn't even be trying. The holidays started. I was ecstatic. I read a few short books but I read them. During the day I'd knit, during the night I'd cry and try to read to forget about it.
This is when I knew, like before and again and again, but this time there were no excuses. It was Christmas i was with my family I was on a break I was supposed to be happy and I was crying myself to sleep. That isn't right.
"Something's not right about what I'm doing but I'm still doing it-- living in the worst parts, ruining myself"
I want this to stop. I feel like I need a big big break from everything. Because even though maybe I could do it maybe I could do something - I think it would completely break me. The only way I could succeed at all was if I was going through anxiety attacks non stop. And that shit hurts so so much. And I already feel like I'm on the edge. I don't know far more I could go.
I literally feel like I would rather not be alive at all than go through another session of that. I'd rather never have a job I like, or literally even work at a grocery store forever than do this now. Something isn't right and I need to stop hiding it and saying I'm fine because for some reason I feel like it's wrong or like I'm a burden or failure because of it. You wouldn't say that to someone with a broke leg and you wouldn't shame them for not being able to run or even worse still tell them that they should be able to run anyway.
There has to be a time to heal somehow. I want to fix things. I can't keep ripping the paper to halves because soon there will be nothing left and you can't come back from that.
I need help.
I want to be okay. I want to be alright.
I don't want to feel like I would rather be dead anymore.
I just have to figure out how to explain the scale of it. Just how bad it really is. Then fix it. I'll find a way to fix it.
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