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#…i need to go to bed. it might be bedtime
goth-mami-writer · 1 day
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🩶As Close as Strangers🩶
~ The final part ~
@sorilyae @littlesnorlaxx
~(AU) Leon Kennedy × f!Reader work.
~{Find parts one and two here}
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(Infinite Darkness era is exactly how I picture him for this fic 🩶)
~~~
《 “Leon, he's gonna be so upset.” You said into the phone that night somewhat sadly as you tried to keep away from the bottom of the stairs, hoping Ethan wasn't trying to listen in from his room.
The flight to bring him to your city from DC had just been delayed and he wouldn't board for another three hours now. He sighed looking at the flight displays now painted in yellow and shook his head hating that he had told Ethan he'd be home before dinner,
“I know. But I can still be there before he goes to bed. Or try to at least.”
This was your ritual now that Leon was back in your life. And Ethan's. He spent only a few short months in DC, working and keeping in touch and using his small amounts of leave to fly to see you and his son. The visits were small but they were meaningful nonetheless. They visited the park and stayed up on the weekends to play games. It was everything you waited for and it didn't take long to realize.
You looked up the stairs again with a concerned glance and wondered if Ethan might take it better if he talked to his dad on the phone. You'd told him just a few minutes before that you were expecting Leon in a little under an hour. But that quickly changed.
“Can I talk to him?” Leon asked on the phone and you told him to hold on.
You found Ethan in his room, he was crouched in the floor racing a toy car on his plastic track that spanned around his area rug. After a soft smile seeing that there were two toy cars set aside for himself and his playmate, you told him that Leon was on the phone.
The small tyke rose from his playtime rug and ran for the phone in your hand,
“Leon?” He said into the phone that he needed to hold with two hands, his tiny voice ringing with sadness,
“When are you coming to my house?”
Leon's heart sank hearing that tiny voice that leveled his whole world now that Ethan was a part of his life so consistently. Even though his precious boy still had no true grasp that Leon was in fact his father, the bond they'd built with sleepovers and endless hours of play felt just as precious.
But there was something else making this next visit so urgent. Leon had yet to ask you but he wanted more than anything to drive home to see his son instead of flying. There was just no way he could be relocated in the current climate of his federal assignments. And that made only one thing possible. Moving you and Ethan to DC, possibly uprooting everything you two knew and it wasn't easy for him to imagine how that could affect you both.
“Buddy, I'm sorry. I'll be home when you wake up in the morning, okay? I promise.” He said to Ethan on the phone, who frowned at the news of his late arrival.
“I can stay up late and wait for you. It's the weekend.” Ethan said to try and see him before he went to sleep one last time.
Leon smiled, giggling in the thought of his little eyes heavy and droopy by the time he finally arrived at the house,
“No, bud, I don't think your mom would like that. It'll be way past your bedtime. We'll make pancakes in the morning together, okay?”
Ethan finally gave in and made Leon promise again that he would be here and firmly he swore that he'd be there. No matter what. After the phone was returned, you told Ethan to put on his pajamas while you finished talking on the phone, then made your way back down the stairs.
You made sure you closed the boy's door enough to keep him out of earshot and you mentioned quietly into the phone,
“When are we going to sit him down and tell him, Leon? It's going to make his year to find out who you are.”
“No-” Leon replied in the busy airport that felt like nothing than background murmur as the hole in his chest hollowed further when he realized he missed his small son,
“It's going to make mine.”
~~~~
~Later that night
You heard Leon's rental car pull in at quarter past midnight. You'd drifted off to sleep on the sofa in wait to help him with his luggage. You put on a coat, trying to make it to the door, but he was already sneaking into the foyer quietly by the time you stood. You tried to take his suitcase but he brushed you away, shaking his head that it was fine.
He closed the door gently, trying to make sure he didn't shutter the walls as it closed and he smiled before pulling you close. His arms looped around your waist, hugging you into him before turning your chin up for a kiss in the quiet dark. You welcomed him closer but felt as he started to hoist you up onto the back of the sectional sofa.
You felt his hands start to wander, making your heart race as you kissed him for the first time in weeks. But you came back to reality when you remembered who else couldn't wait to see him.
“Hey, hey-” You whispered in his ear in the dark.
“Hm?” Leon asked, kissing your neck warmly and sweet.
“Someone didn't make it too long waiting for you.” You said gesturing over to the loveseat next to the window with a glance.
There, Ethan slept endearingly wrapped in his cartoon blanket with his head rested on the throw pillow. He'd been by the window, waiting for Leon's car, and the sight of his patience was enough to make anyone's heart swell.
“Awh, buddy.”
Leon sighed with a heavy smile as he began towards the window quietly. He wasn't sure if he should move him just yet but he couldn't bear the sight of him sleeping away from his own bed. He crept close to his small son, moving the sandy brown bangs away from his eyes and picking him up slowly under the arms.
He thought of moving upstairs but instead he merely sat down on the love seat, slumping the tired little boy onto his chest. He held his head onto his shoulder, covering him again with his tiny cartoon blanket and finally felt at peace there in a bear hug practically. Your lip quivered at the image of him holding Ethan in a way that he should've the day he was born and you sat beside them both.
You watched as Leon rested his head back as he cradled Ethan close and he said in a whisper between the silence of listening to his son sweetly sleep across his chest,
“D'ya get a chance to think about DC?”
You nodded, having had the conversation before he boarded his flight but you smiled before petting Ethan's back amidst his sleep,
“I'm not sure what there is to think about. You know we would love to come and stay with you.”
“I just don't want to uproot him, baby-”
“You're his home, Leon. He won't know the difference if you're there. He doesn't know you're his father but he knows you're his dad.” You argued with him in the dark softly but there was more. There was something else you saw that was on his mind and you waited for him to take that usual breath he needed to spit it out.
“What do you want to happen after that?” He asked softly, still cupping Ethan's head and you furrowed your brow, wondering what exactly he meant by that and he went on,
“You want to get married?” He asked as if the question was something mindless.
You froze, unsure of how to answer something so changing. You kept looking for him to start laughing or maybe just any indication that he might be joking but he was firm in waiting for your answer.
“You didn't mention that on the phone??” You said breathless and he nodded in telling you that was because he thought of it on the plane. Your heart raced in thinking of becoming Mrs. Kennedy, a name you thought should be worshiped when you understood what it meant.
“Is this…a proposal?” You asked, in dire need for the answer and he half smiled, knowing he shouldn't treat this so lightly. But it just felt too natural to make this exactly how he pictured it in his mind.
“Does it feel like one?” He asked his face softened in the thought of coming home to his wife and son,
“You really think I'll only ask once?”
You laughed quietly, knowing this would probably be a discussion to be divided into bits in pieces for the next few months ahead of you but you couldn't ask for something different. Being his wife could wait a lifetime if it meant the timing being perfect.
He stood with Ethan still sleeping in his arms and carefully made his way to the stairs. Climbing to the second level you watched a tiny arm swinging at Leon's side that he placed back onto his shoulder lovingly before reaching his bedroom. He laid Ethan down to his small twin bed painted with superheroes and placed the blanket over him softly.
Leon petted his head after sitting down on the side of the bed, clearing his mattress of forlorn toys and action figures lost in the sheets from his playtime. He smiled placing each of them back on his bedside shelf and he whispered down after a kiss to his tiny head,
“Your daddy loves you, buddy.”
He stood, making sure all of his night lights were turned on like the way he preferred to keep the dark away and he'd almost crept entirely out of the room in silence when he heard a small voice answer his whisper in the dark,
“I love you too.”
Leon stopped, knowing he shouldn't say anything, but it was hard to stay quiet at the first acknowledgment of being a father instead of merely his mother's friend. He closed the door quietly as his face reddened from the oncoming tears building in his eyes and thanked whoever was listening for the first time that he was able to stumble around drunk in the rain one night.
Because this feeling couldn't be bought twice. 》
~~~~~~~
Thank you so much for all the people asking to be tagged on this story, and thank you again for all the notes and comments. It was a joy to write.✌️🥰
There's more Leon to come 🩶
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its-in-the-woods · 3 days
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Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 6
Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here
Pairing: Walton Goggins x You
Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out.  Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding,kissing, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.
Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.
Note: they are both single, all for fun.
I think I may have an ending now. Posts will continue to be 2-3k long. Every other day more than likely. The whole fic will be around 30k words.
Thank you all again and again for taking the time to read the stories I put out.
***
Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing, your head is a little fuzzy but not nearly as bad as you’d experienced. Opening your eyes you flip the phone over to see it’s nearly twelve-thirty in the afternoon. Blinking a few times you make yourself sit up in bed flipping your phone on to see a deluge of text messages. Groaning you turn your phone off and stretch. Before any messages were answered you need coffee and maybe a shower. 
Showered and suitably caffeinated you finally flip open the text messages. 
Trevor: 
9 am: So what happened?
9:1 5:Hello?
9:30: Look do I need to call the police?
10:30: It’s been hours….
10:32: You never texted me when you got home
11:01: Okay it’s after eleven. You never sleep in. 
12:45: I am coming over in thirty minutes if I don’t hear from you. 
You reply:
I am fine, I just got home super late. I hope you’re not coming over
Trevor:
You scared me! 
Why didn’t you text me back?
How late were you out
Wait did you go back to his place?????
You groan squeezing your eyes close and drinking a healthy swig of coffee.
You: 
We went for sushi, then went down to the beach. 
Trevor:
That’s all you're giving me! What kinda 1950s dating scene is this?
You chuckle replying:
We stayed at the beach until 3 am. 
Trevor: Wait did you have sex on the beach
You:
TREVOR! 
Trevor:
It’s an important question. Don’t want to find out on the gossip train.
You:
why can’t I have nice things TREVOR. No there was no sex in PUBLIC, we kissed and held hands. Can I not do that????
Trevor: Are you secretly asexual? There is nothing wrong with that. I think it’s romantic. 
You:
I am going to become asexual if it means you stop asking me these questions. 
You could almost hear him laughing at you. 
Trevor:
You like it! 
You snorted and switched messages.
Walton: 
10 am: Hey beautiful, wanted to check in. See how you’re doing this morning. 
11 am: I was wondering about maybe going out to bar a city over next Friday? 
11:10 am: Promise I am not trying to kidnap you.
12:20 pm:  Thought you never slept in?
You:
Hey handsome, sorry I actually slept in. Kept me out past my bedtime.
I would love to go out with you next Friday, fingers crossed they don’t keep us late
You set your phone down, pondering if you still trusted the milk in the fridge to make pancakes. Getting up you get a refill of coffee, phone buzzing. 
Walton: 
If they do we can always go out saturday? Can’t be keeping you up so late. Got make sure you can keep up with this old man. 
You:
Oh I am sure I can keep up with you 😉
Walton:
Careful little lady, I might have to come by and test that theory.
Your face goes bright red and that heat coils low in your belly. 
You: Promises, promises, 
Walton:
If I didn’t have a zoom meeting in ten minutes 😠
You:
Maybe next Friday. 
You’re not sure why you’ve become a tease, but you’re enjoying winding him up. 
Walton:
Monday will be more like it.
You:
😜 Your trailer or mine.
Walton: 
Yours just so Trevor will stop texting me.
You let out a laugh, seemed like Trevor was also enjoying winding him up. You spend the rest of the day chatting with both of them. Sunday is a bit quieter, more zoom calls for Walt and Trevor had gone to Decon’s. 
*** Monday goes by in a blur, Walton keeps his hands to himself when others are around. But it doesn’t stop him from following you behind the food tent to steal kisses. You are now sporting a permanent flush and some of your co-workers are raising eyebrows. You are ever grateful that Trevor has kept his mouth shut. Liz is as pissy as ever but seems to be letting it lay. Katie has slowly warmed up to you again, why you weren’t sure. 
The rest of the week is pretty similar. Early mornings bleed into later evenings, the endless weeks have worn on you. Then Walton slides into your chair with his latest story and you feel like a weight is lifted off of you. The man once more touches you gently and gives you lingering cheek kisses as he goes over to set or costumes.   
Friday night rolls around and it’s going to be a long one. You fiddle with a few of your brushes when the door opens quickly. 
“We are being released. There was a fire on stage, and it looks like we are out at least until Monday,” Liz rolls in looking flustered, her normal perfect facade gone. She looks haggard and frazzled. 
“There was a fire on set?” You ask sitting up and feeling much more awake. Panic shoots down the back of your neck.
“Yep, green sparky left a light on too close to set.” Liz sat in the chair grabbing cleaner. You had stayed in the trailer to start tucking things away as Walton was off-screen for the first three setups. You are out the door before she has time to say more. You stop at costumes knocking at the door. 
Rebeccas opens it and looks down at you, she looks flustered but still has a smile on. “Hey, I am guessing you heard about the fire?”
“Yes, I did,” You say trying not to sound panicked, even though your mind is racing. The thought of him being hurt makes you nauseous. “Umm -is.”
Rebecca looks into the trailer, “Walt. You almost done in there?” There is a bunch of commotion going on in the trailer, with people moving back and forth, and different actors in various stages of undress.
You looked at her puzzled at how she knew you were looking for him. 
Rebecca turns back to you, “He never shuts up about you, so figured that’s why you are here,” She replies, and you immediately feel flustered, clearly rumors are moving again. 
“Oh- umm- Yeah. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”
Walton pops his head above Rebecca his fingers nimbly button up his shirt. “Be right out.”
You blush and look away, “Sorry, I should probably go.”
Rebeca waved her hand at you, “Your secret is safe with me,” she winked. You wonder not for the first time if you were the only one who was never included in the rumor mill. 
Walton pops down the stairs, and has on grey button-up sleeves rolled up, navy wash jeans. He tilts his head when he looks at you. You let out a sigh seeing him unscathed. 
“You okay?” He asks, his hand touching your shoulder. You nod your head, turning to walk back towards the makeup trailer. You really don’t want to make a scene right now, there were way too many eyes on you both right now. 
“I know I said we should go to the bar tonight,” Walton says, his fingers brushing against yours. You try not to grab his hands, just to know he is still there. “But maybe we should get take out at my place?”
You get to the trailer, unable to stop looking around. He looks right at you, the way he could focus on you was both flattering and unnerving. Especially as you are trying to keep things under wraps. 
“Have to stop and grab a few things first.” You say trying to keep your voice from carrying. “Have you pick me up again?”
He smiles, “I would pick you up any day.”
You are bright red, as you open the door and follow the man into the trailer. 
***
A large paper bag of Chinese food was acquired, along with a couple of bottles of wine. You both devest at the door, slipping off your shoes, and placing the wine on the counter. You watch him move around the kitchen. Practice ease, you watch his muscles move under his shirt. You were tired as anything but being in his kitchen, waiting to eat greasy Chinese food couldn’t have been more perfect. 
You grab plates from him, laying out the smorgasbord board of different food. The two of you scooped a little of everything, before sitting down at the table and pouring some wine. 
“I feel like I should apologize for having you over instead of going out somewhere,” Walton says taking a sip of wine. “I don’t want you to think I am taking advantage of you being here.”
You chuckle, “Don’t know what you mean Mr. Goggins. I thought you invited me to your place to play some chess and listen to swing jazz.”
Walton nearly loses his food at the comment, his hand covering his mouth. “Swing jazz? How old do you think I am?”
“Oh you got to be at least in your seventies,” You tease back taking a bite out of your spring roll. 
Walton coughs, “I didn’t realize you where into grandfathers.”
You choke a little, “Well to be fair,” You wave your hand, “I am usually good with trying anything once.” 
Walton sips on his wine eyebrows raised, “Anything?”
You nod your head, a smile spreading across your face. “Can’t say I don’t like it unless I try it.”
He puts his glass down, watching you carefully as you finish your cup. “I could make some coffee while we clean up.”
You grab his plate stacking it with your own as he grabs the glasses. You two make it over to the kitchen, there is tension in the air as you clean things up. He grabs a French press out of the cupboards aswell as some coffee and cups.
You slide over to the counter and sit on top of it. Feet kicking back and forth as you watch the man ready things.  Flicking the kettle on to heat the water. He comes over and moves himself in between your legs.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He whispers, placing hands on either side of your hips. Face inches from you.
You wrap your hands lazily over his shoulders, opening your legs to let him in closer. 
“No, you haven't today.” You lean in to kiss him, kissing him will never get old.
“You are stunning.” He whispers against your ear. Sending shivers down your spine. The kettle clicks and he's moving away from you. You watch him pour grinds and then water into the press. 
“Why did you wait so long to ask?” You inquire, moving your feet back and forth. Letting yourself briefly wonder if maybe the question was too forward.  
He turned to look at you, bottom lip caught in his teeth. “Umm-”  
Leaving the coffee he came over to you. Cheeks slightly pink, he tucked his hair behind his ear. 
“I - ahh. I didn't think you'd want to go out with me.” 
Your mouth falls open, “Are you serious?”
He shrugs, fingers fiddling with the outer seam of your jeans. You take his hand in yours using the moment to drag him back between your legs. Once he is there, you tip Walton’s head up to look right at you.
“You're so dumb,” You grin leaning in to kiss him. He chuckles and leans into the kiss, strong arms wrapping around you. “I am also dumb, 'cause I thought the same thing about you.”
Walton pulls back looking at you, eyebrows scrunched. “Didn't you just call me dumb? Seems like we both may have missed the sign somewhere along the way.”
You grin one hand finding its way to rub along his jawline. “Took us long enough.”
He smiled, “Trevor is never going to let us live this down.”
You let out a groan, “He is beyond impossible. I am gonna have a small textbook of text messages.”
Walton’s eyes glint, and he pulls his phone out. “Why don't we give him an update.”
You can't help but laugh, “Oh absolutely!” 
Walton flips his phone on turning on the camera he flips it to the two of you. You lean in and kiss him deeply as he clicks the button. The phone is placed on the counter as you wrap your legs around his waist. You pull out a deep moan that rumbles out of his chest when you bite at his bottom lip. It doesn't stop you from pushing your tongue in. Rocking your hips a little, the room feels hot. 
Walton pulls away, breathless, “If you keep doing that, I am liable to forget about our coffee.”
You let out a sigh, “I suppose a little coffee couldn't won't hurt.” You unwrap yourself from him. 
He moves down the counter as you slide off it. He mixes your coffee just the way you like it, handing you the cup as he fixes his own. You wait, watching him work, he turns and gestures toward the living room. You make your way over to the couch.  
Folding yourself up on the end of the sofa, tucking one leg underneath the other. You sip on the coffee, it is delicious and beats any store bought. Walton comes over and sits beside you, taking a long sip of his drink. Looking out the windows you can see part of downtown and the north shore. The lights still dazzling, as the evening wore on. 
“I know, before, I said I wasn’t sure you would want to go out with me,” He said looking out at the window as he spoke. “I tried, unsuccessfully to give you space. But the further I got away the more I missed being near you. Then when we went out for sushi, it all just kinda clicked. This isn’t conventional.” He gestures between the two of you. You hold your cup listening intently. 
“I am, ahh, older than you. And my life is not exactly straightforward. I don’t take relationships lightly, not that this is that. Or.” You can’t suppress the smile as he tries to explain himself. “I am terrible at this. I don’t want to move too fast, but also. I can’t stop thinking about you.” 
You put your cup down, and gesture for him to come closer. He places his cup down beside yours and moves over. Patting your lap, he slips down and lays his head on your lap. You run your hands through his hair, his eyes close and he hums softly against your legs. 
“I can’t tell you what's going to happen,” You say softly, “I am also not good at this, but I am willing to try. However fast or slow you want to go. As for the age thing, I don’t care, it’s never bothered me.” 
Walton’s breath slows and his hand slips under your thigh holding you close. You sit there a while longer, letting him just relax against you. Again you are struck by how simple it is, to just sit here with a warm cup of coffee and the city lights. You could get used to weekends like this. But as always he is moving sitting up and smoothing out his hair, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip. 
“Would you like to come to bed with me?” He asks, you turn away from the lights. His eyes fixed on you, not hungry but curious. 
“I would like that a lot,” You say licking your lips and heart pounding in your chest. 
Walton stands up offering you a hand, which you take, pulling yourself to your feet. The coffee is left on the table as you follow him. Fingers laced together like they are two puzzle pieces. You pass by the guest room and there is a door at the end of the hallway. He opens it and you walk into the large room. There are floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the sea, a large king-sized bed on a wooden platform. The room is sparse, with two side tables with lamps. A large walk-in closet to your left along with a bathroom beside it. You wonder for a moment how often he has brought others back here. The thought lingers in the back of your mind as you wander over to sit on the edge of the bed. Walton has disappeared into the bathroom.
“I think I have another toothbrush in here,” He calls out, poking his head around the corner. 
You smile and move towards him, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”
He’s blushing again and handing you the unopened toothbrush, “I–I umm. Just figure I’d offer.” 
You move into the bathroom grabbing some toothpaste off the counter and leaning against it, “I appreciate it, besides don’t want to have coffee breath. Would you happen to have makeup wipes?”
Walton thinks for a moment before he scoots you out of the way, as you brush your teeth. He pops up with a bottle of cleanser and a fresh hand towel. “I knew I had it here somewhere.”
You grin and thank him, he brushes his teeth before disappearing again. You take the moment to clean off your face and neck. Looking into the mirror you got a permanent smile on your face. Letting out a happy sigh you finish up, telling yourself not to put the cart in front of the horses. You walk out and Walton is standing there shirtless, blinds drawn. He slips into a grey cotton t-shirt, that you currently hate, and black sweatpants. Sensing you staring he turns around to see you. 
Chapter seven
*tiny cliffhanger. I always need at least one 😜*
*As always if you'd like to be tagged let me know! *
*reblogs, likes, and comments appreciated! *
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mars-ipan · 4 months
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the hinata kinning is strong tonight
#marzi speaks#once again. shoutout to izuru for calling me out on that enough times for me to realize it’s the truth#crazy thing is i keep finding out how correct it is in different ways#like i realized recently. i have no idea who i am or who i’m supposed to be#i think i know who i wanna be? but i might already be that person and not even know it#and the other night i was sitting there. and i thought ‘who the hell am i.’ and then i realized that’s such a fucking hajime ass thought#identity issues moment. teehee !!#i didn’t… think i had identity issues??? but shit i might !!!#it might be genderfluidity having a moment. it might be stress. it could be anything#anything could be responsible for the way i am. if i would be likely to do anything given the right circumstances#how can i know that any choice i make is truly my own#…i need to go to bed. it might be bedtime#do you see what i MEAN though??? goddamn. i should work on getting a therapy appt set up or smth#on a more lighthearted note the whole hajime kinnie thing is SO funny in hindsight#when i asked izuru why he thought i was a hajime kinnie he just went ‘oblivious and gay. among other things.’#and i said ‘what other things?????’ and he went ‘i’m not gonna bore myself with the details. if anyone would know it’d be me trust me’#and well. shit! a bitch was right and that still irritates me a little. how the fuck did that fucker know that much about me#it is a super funny interaction though. izuru kamukura came to my blog called me a faggot and left. slay
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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Late Night Talking
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#MDZS#wei wuxian#lan wangji#This scene had massive 'we are the only two people still up at the sleepover' energy#thought let me set the record straight; wwx doesn't open up in the scene. He fully deflects#Nor does LWJ play with ants B*(#I wanted to merge the two scenes a bit that's all#My OG script was a bit funnier but it broke continuity so rip (i.e: wwx outright stated 'remember when YOU...' in reference to the ants)#also rip to lwj saying 'hey U up?' like he's texting his crush. I hope the spirit is still there#We all know lwj sticks to his 9pm bedtime no matter what#and wouldn't be traditionally texting on a cellphone#He wakes up at 4:30 am to go for a run#gets home at 5:30 to use the lan household computer to go on his shared google doc with wwx and comments 'are you still awake?'#cause lets me real. wwx might also keep a steady sleep schedule but at least he *can* pull an all-nighter#Can you imagine lwj at a sleepover? I admit to being the kid who went to bed and woke up 3-4 hours before the others#you either get fed up and wake someone else up for enrichment - or plan ahead to bring a book - or Walk Home#I fully missed out on all that deep heart to heart stuff. I usually was the one to go 'guysssss we are gonna get in troubleeee go to sleep'#wait this is too much sleepover talk I need to talk about wwx in the last panel. It's a mix of panic and pride.#He's just at the beginning of realizing this guy has changed a lot in 13 years#gonna be a while before more comic pages get posted but they're ready to go in the queue!#(I'm still posting other stuff daily though!)
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yangjeongin · 6 months
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update i have five hyunjin bday countdown sets theoretically done and have started on three others what if i Can actually do it
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stampstamp · 4 months
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I want to stay in bed all day 😭 Period cramps have wiped me out.
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toastsnaffler · 5 months
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I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.
#ive survived all nighters before ill scrape through the day itll just be Rough. at least i dont have much in my schedule#im not gonna take the dose this morning bc i think thats a really bad idea to do on zero hours sleep#and i can't risk two consecutive all nighters. like I have done that before but not while working full time 💀 its not worth it#drafting an email to my doctor to let her know im skipping day 2 + ask advice re. whether its worth resuming again on day 3#bc she did list 'trouble sleeping' as a common symptom that often passes but i need to know a) how long it usually takes to pass and-#b) if this is unusually bad + would she rec supplementing with a sleep aid or just switching tack entirely and trialling a non stimulant#by this stage of the night i dont think its actually acting anymore bc i took it at 7am and its now 3am. it shouldnt last that long#i think its more just triggered my preexisting insomnia. my ability to sleep is very very sensitive sometimes + hates routine changes#just so fucking frustrating bc ive spent the past 2 months nailing my sleep routine + ive had a couple weeks of being able to-#go to bed like 9:30-10 and it only takes an hour to get to sleep and i get usually a good 7 hours sometimes 8 only waking once halfway#and i dont feel like utter shit like yeah im tired but from work not so much lack of sleep.... and now thats all fucked lmao#whatever. maybe i should just take the next dose anyway#ill see. gonna try to sleep for another 2 hours but once it hits 5 im not doing this anymore ive been trying for six hours already man#i cant even remember when i last pulled a full all nighter. it might be longer than 6 months ago... i was doing so well :-(#im so mad i was so hopeful it would have SOME good effect like ik its not a miracle worker + these things take time but so many people-#seem to have an immediate positive response even if its probably a placebo. and i got fuck all except This.#i was searching on the reddit for sleep issues and other ppl only seem to report bad ones on higher doses or years in..#like damn. do i even have adhd then. ik thats a stupid thing to think bc obvs everyones body metabolises meds differently etc but still#it is ALMOST HALF 3 and i am FUCKING TIRED#UGH. alright bedtime round 189447383#.diaries#.vent
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emocheol · 1 month
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sharing the bed with seventeen
how they sleep next to you
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seungcheol
tucks you into his side and keeps you there all night
will not let you move, even if you complain that it’s too hot
his dramatic ass will say that he’ll die if he can’t sleep with you in his arms
pouts at you if you don’t go to bed at the same time as him
if you want to stay up later to watch tv he’ll stay up with you, falling asleep in your lap on the couch while you watch your show
“baby, just go to bed without me”
“i can’t get comfortable unless i’m with you”
jeonghan
a little shit
teases you whenever you want to cuddle up with him
but if you refuse to cuddle him he’ll pout until you cave
if you try sleeping away from him he’ll pull you over to him and smother you
loves to feel like he’s protecting you
always the big spoon, needs to be holding you instead of the other way around
“can i be the big spoon tonight?”
“no”
“but-!”
“absolutely not”
joshua
loves his personal space
literally cannot fall asleep if he’s touching someone, which he feels bad about
but at least he can sleep next to you!
will try to read you bedtime stories to make up for it
googles ‘best bedtime stories’ and ends up reading you goldilocks and the three bears
“why are you reading me a child’s bedtime story?”
“shhh we’re getting to the best part”
jun
blanket hog
you’ll have to sleep with an extra blanket next to your side of the bed so you can pull it on when you wake up in the cold
will claim that he’s not doing anything and you’re just imagining it
even when he hogs all the blankets he’s still searching for your touch
so, you might wake up cold but your hand is warm, engulfed in his
at this point you’ve stopped mentioning it to him so he doesn’t feel bad
plus the warmth of his hand is enough to show you he loves you
“i didn’t steal all the blankets again, did i?”
“nope”
hoshi
nuzzles his head in your neck
likes to be as close as possible
literally a baby tiger
so what if he feels safe in your arms? sue him
likes it when you talk about your day or tell him a story, your voice soothes him to sleep
“can you tell me the one about when you fell off your bike again?”
“honey, i’ve told you that story 10 times already”
“but it helps me sleep!”
wonwoo
surprisingly, is the little spoon
he’s sick of having to be so strong, loves being babied by you
gets sad when you go to sleep first, but he’s playing video games deep into the night, so who’s really to blame here?
but, will feel even worse if you stay up late just for him
“are you ready to sleep yet?”
“just one more round”
“fine, i’m going to sleep without you then”
“no, wait!”
jihoon
usually doesn't sleep until very late
is always working on producing and will even spend nights in his studio
when he comes home you're almost always sleeping already, he feels bad that he can't hold you and soothe you to sleep
but he opts for crawling into bed and holding you while you sleep
you'll subconsciously curl up into him, it always makes him smile
you constantly badger him about getting more sleep and he always promises that he will (he won't but he knows it eases your mind)
“when did you get back last night?”
“not too long after you fell asleep, don't worry”
(he came home after you'd been asleep for 5 hours)
minghao
doesn’t tell you that he does/doesn’t like cuddling
literally just doesn’t give you any information
some days you’ll wake up in his arms and then other days you’ll wake up about to be kicked off the bed
but, even if you wake up away from him when you try to get out of bed he’ll grab your arm and keep you there
“don’t leave me”
“i was just going to make breakfast”
“i said don’t leave me” :(
mingyu
smothers you
literally will not let you breathe
claims he needs to hold you to fall asleep, pouts if you don’t let him
you can try to put a barrier of pillows between you but you always wake up in a death grip
“you’re sleeping on the couch until further notice”
“i promise i won’t do it again!”
he does it again.
seokmin
cuddle bug ™
loves being close to you, absolutely obsessed with skinship
genuinely cannot sleep if he’s not holding you which is why it’s so hard for him to get sleep when he’s overseas
plays with your hair while you’re asleep
will not get out of bed without you, so he’ll just lay in bed and watch your sleep until you wake up
“have you been watching me sleep?”
“of course, i could never get bored of your beauty”
“you’re a sap”
“funny way of acknowledging that i’m madly in love with you”
seungkwan
big old teddy bear
sleeps peacefully as long as you two are smushed together in any kind of way
big spoon, little spoon, he doesn’t care if it’s with you
let’s you play with his hair, plays with your hair
he just loves you so much he’ll take whatever he can get
going to bed with you is his favorite time of the day
“kwannie? i’m tired, you ready for bed?”
“always”
vernon
very specific about how he sleeps
quite literally cannot sleep if he’s cuddling, also says it’s impractical
will link his pinky with yours or grab your hand in his sleep, though
if you wake up and get out of bed before him he’ll pout a little bit, he likes spending time in bed with you
your presence next to him is enough, even if you think you’re bothering his routine
“you sure i’m not messing up your sleep by being here?”
“i’d never not want to be with you”
dino
wants to be a cuddler but is a kicker
you can fall asleep in each others arms but you will be woken up by him kicking you and pushing you nearly off the bed
you’ll try and get back to a normal position with him but he will still kick you, making you grab a pillow and blanket and go sleep in the guest room
he’ll wake up to an empty and cold bed and feel absolutely horrible
will rush into your guest room and shake you awake
“did i do it again? :(”
“don’t worry about it, honey”
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allsassnoclass · 2 years
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apologies for a lack of prompt this week, rest assured that i’m still brainstorming all of the ones left in my inbox!
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writingwithfolklore · 1 month
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How to Hold Yourself Accountable as a Professional Writer
              Okay maybe you’re not self-employed or professional yet and writing definitely isn’t bringing in the big bucks, but you’d like it to some day, and you’re working right now on making that a reality. This post is for you, because the best time to practice getting into a healthy writing habit and holding yourself accountable to writing for that future where it’s your full time gig is now—before it’s essential to do so.
1. It will never be easy
It’s easy to think that maintaining a schedule or habit for writing would be easy if only it was your full-time gig and all you needed to do. While it might be easier than trying to cram in writing between classes or jobs, it will never be easy. You’re always going to have multiple things going on, there’s always going to be something you could be or need to be doing other than writing. Developing good habits right now, when it is really hard, is going to set you up far better than just waiting for it to get easy before you fully commit to it.
2. Set a schedule that actually works for you
I did a whole post on making a writing schedule you can actually manage and maintain here:
But the TL;DR is that in order to keep to a schedule, you have to make sure it’s attainable. Fit when you write around your other life schedule. For example, if you’re really not a morning person, planning on waking up at 5am every morning to write for a couple hours is probably not something you’ll be able to maintain. But setting aside an hour before bed may be more manageable for you.
3. Form a habit
To train your brain to make your writing schedule a habit you’ll actually stick to, you should make it into a routine. Similar to how you have a bedtime routine that sets you up to feel sleepy at night, a routine that sets you up for writing will make it harder to turn away from your manuscript, and help inspire a productive writing block.
              You can create a writing playlist with songs that inspire your project you listen to whenever you begin writing, make a tea or other drink to sip on while you write, grab a snack, share your schedule with a writing buddy and write together, put together a document of inspiring quotes, photos, or other muses you can read, or really anything that gets you into the writing mood. By following this routine every time you set up to write, you’ll train your brain to get into a mindset that will make it easier to stick to your writing block.
4. Reward yourself
Brains love doing things for a reward. Maybe after a productive writing block you can spend some time doing something else you love, like watching an episode of your favourite show, lighting a candle, taking a bath, or having a glass of wine, I don’t know, anything that would give your brain the happy juice in response to your good work.
5. Set deadlines and goals
Writing consistently is basically the majority of the battle. I don’t typically worry about word count, but I do know that it can be helpful for others to set wordcount goals and deadlines to ensure productivity. If that sounds like you, make sure your goals are actionable while also being attainable. “Finish novel” isn’t a great goal, but “write 2000 words per week for three months” could be helpful if you know that 2000 words is attainable for you.
              Same as before, you can also set rewards for when you reach your goals. I have a big tattoo upcoming if I complete my goal for the year.
              The last tip I have for this point is to try to find an accountabili-buddy to hold you to your goals and deadlines if you think that would be helpful for you. As a professional writer, you may be held accountable by an editor or agent, so practicing through asking a buddy to help you set deadlines and deliverables will help prepare you for writing towards a date.
The TL;DR is find out what works for you and practice doing it consistently! Anything else I missed?
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riceys · 2 months
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just a thought b4 i go to bed cause brain rot but. . .
Schlatt with another cc!reader and priviate relationship and he accidentally leaks it
so hes super overworked and tired due to some big projects and goes to bed early
youre streaming, about ready to wrap up, when the door to your office opens and a very sleepy schlatt stomps in. you dont notice since your back is to the door
“baaabbbyyy”
chat goes WILD
“A BOY???”
“IS THAT SCHLATT”
“Y/N BEHIND YOU”
upon seeing this you turn around and see him, pouting in your doorway :(
panic sets in as you quickly realize that he is half asleep and doesnt realize youre live
you quickly turn back to your stream and turn it off before sighing and walking to him
“sorry” hes clearly more awake now and has realized whats happened
he collapses into your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing sleepy kisses to your jaw. “its okay baby you didnt mean to, it was bound to happen eventually” you coo as you play with his hair. he just nods and relaxes in your embrace and soon you hear his soft snores.
dude fell asleep standing up 💀
“aaalright lovie bedtime” he perks up at your words, eagerly leading you to the bedroom where he crawls into bed with you
“ill take care of it in the morning i promise. just need you right now” 🥺🥺🥺
cuddles omgggg
wake up next morning and check your phone only to find that you in fact did not end stream. . .
——•——•——•——•——•——•——•—
ok so this sucks but its okay cause im eepy as fuck
might turn into a real fic
ALSO i found an old yumi fic i wrote a while ago on wattpad so if yall want me to post that here lemme know (ill do it nyway 😁)
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
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Struggle
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You try to get dressed by yourself
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There's a lot of change now that you live in England. There's no more Wolfsburg, no more German and no more Morsa through the phone. Now it's Not-Wolfsburg and English and Morsa in person.
It's a big change but you're being very brave about it all and trying to be a big girl.
Momma has been a little stressed about settling in at Not-Wolfsburg and with getting everything moved into the house. Some of the things that were meant to be shipped over have been delayed so she's a little antsy about it.
You try to be helpful like keeping your toys tidy and not complaining too much when Morsa wants to take pictures of you in her Not-Wolfsburg jersey but things are very different.
Your English is not quite as good as your other languages so Momma and Morsa exclusively speak it to you at home unless you're very tired and tearful. You're trying very hard with your English though and are learning new things every day.
You think that if you try very hard it might make Momma more relaxed so you're desperately trying to find other ways to make her relaxed too. One of the girls from training told you that big girls get dressed by themselves.
You've never done it before but Morsa calls you her big girl all the time so you must be one. Morsa always lays your clothes out the night before you wear them and tonight you stand at her side as she chooses.
"Um..." You say because you still have to speak English and you're trying to think of your words. "That!" You point at one of your plain t-shirts nestled between a Wolfsburg shirt and a Not-Wolfsburg shirt.
Momma tells you all the time now that you can't wear a Wolfsburg jersey to Not-Wolfsburg training because it's a little bit rude but you don't want to wear a Not-Wolfsburg jersey either. You kind of wish you had a red jersey because teams with red on their jerseys are always really good.
Regardless, you point at the plain t-shirt because it's the happy middle before also choosing the pair of shorts that have stars on them.
"Good choice," Morsa says before she lays them out on the little rocking chair you have in the corner for bedtime cuddles," Alright, into bed."
You hurry to get under the covers, making sure to give girl-swan and girl-moose kisses. Momma comes in as you do so. She tucks your blankets up to your chin before placing feather-light kisses to your face.
"I love you."
"Love you," You echo and Morsa takes her place.
She gives you kisses too. "I love you."
"Love you."
Momma turns on your nightlight and Momma leaves your door open a crack.
You make sure to go to sleep very quickly so the morning can come sooner and you can impress Momma and Morsa by getting dressed all by yourself.
It's still quite dark when you wake up but your nightlight is still on so you can still see and you make your way over to where your clothes are waiting.
You manage to slip your shorts on fairly easily because you only need to put your feet in the holes and pull them up like you do with your pull-ups. It's a little weird though because usually your pockets are at the back rather than the front but you've managed to do your shorts all by yourself so you don't really think a lot about how the pockets have changed positions.
It's the t-shirt that gives you trouble. First, you can't find the neckhole, trying to force your head through the arm holes twice. Next, you somehow manage to get your elbow through one of the holes but, when you realise that your actual hand hasn't gone through, you find out that you can't get your elbow back out.
You don't like this feeling and whine loudly as you try to fight it but it's just no use. You struggle uselessly against it until you're quite firmly stuck and that makes you fall onto your butt and cry.
"Okay, okay," Momma's comforting voice shushes you softly as her hands gently pushes at your elbow from the other side until it pops out and falls limp at your side.
The t-shirt is pulled off of your head and you surge into Momma's arms. She cradles you instantly, holding you close into her warm safety as you wet her pyjama top with your tears.
You blubber half-words into her neck as her gentle hand rubs your back.
"What was that about, huh, Princesse?" Momma asks, not forcing you out of your hiding spot.
"What was what about?" Morsa pops her head into the room, taking in the way that your pyjamas lie on the floor with your t-shirt and the way that you're being held against Momma. Her eyes drift down to your shorts where she bursts out laughter. "Your shorts are on backwards."
Immediately, you burst into tears.
"Magda!" Momma hisses and you know she's serious because she's using Morsa's adult name.
Morsa looks a little apologetic when she sees your state and moves to touch you but you shy away. She frowns and extends her hand for you but you still refuse to take it.
"What happened? Huh?" Momma asks you softly.
"Bein' big girl," You cry.
"Oh, yeah?
You nod pathetically.
"And that's why you tried to get dressed all by yourself?"
You nod even more pathetically than before. You tried really hard to be a big girl but, just like your English, you're not very good at it yet. You're just a little girl and little girls don't get to get dressed by themselves.
You're a bit sullen as Momma and Morsa work together to get you dressed, head hung low as Momma swaps your shorts around the right way and Morsa gets your head through the right hole of your t-shirt.
You're a little girl today.
You wish you were a big girl.
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loveinhawkins · 11 months
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When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.
It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.
And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.
A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.
He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.
But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.
He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.
He’s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.
Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.
Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.
But the chatter isn’t helping.
He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.
He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?
He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.
His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.
Something’s cracking deep inside him.
He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.
Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.
He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.
He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”
“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.
Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.
“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.
He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.
Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.
“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.
Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.
Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.
“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”
“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”
But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.
The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.
Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.
“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”
It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.
“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”
He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.
Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding. He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.
Steve doesn’t mention it.
“I can get you some food,” he says.
Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”
He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.
Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”
Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”
Steve doesn’t answer.
Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.
No. That’s not…
He wants… he wants…
“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”
Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”
He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—
The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe. And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.
He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.
“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.
Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.
“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…” Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.
“Thanks,” he manages.
“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”
Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.
And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.
Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.
Steve crouches by the side of the boat.
“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.
“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”
“Eddie, it’s—”
Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”
He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.
Just a hair’s breadth away from…
It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.
“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”
It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.
His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.
Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.
Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…
The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.
Eddie can’t breathe.
“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”
A snap.
Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.
Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”
Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.
Something warm.
It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…
He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.
No.
He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.
“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”
“I know,” Steve says.
His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.
And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.
A hand-warmer.
He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.
Eddie breathes in again. Out.
“There you go,” Steve murmurs.
Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.
“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.
He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.
“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”
Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…
“I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.
Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.
Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.
Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.
“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”
“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”
Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”
“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”
It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.
Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.
He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…
It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.
Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…
It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.
And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.
Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.
He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”
“We know,” came an already distant chorus.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“And if anyone hears about this—”
“We’re dead!”
A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.
And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.
Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.
It was…
Eddie wakes up warm.
The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…
He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…
It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.
He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.
But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.
His hands are warm.
And that’s something.
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princetofbone · 9 months
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study tips for when it is late at night
i am one of the first people to tell you to go to sleep- I myself prefer to be a 7:30 pm bedtime kinda guy, but sometimes I need more time to study, so here are some tips to have a less painful late night study sesh:
lights on at full brightness- as much as I love watching the sunset through my window and lighting my desk via a dim yellow lamp and candles, the sunset + low yellow light is screaming at your brain that it is bedtime, so keep as many lights on as you can
have a super cold drink- i'm talking 95% ice. I love warm drinks, but when I start getting really tired because it's late, it only makes me sleepier, so ice water/iced tea will be your friend
have a very clear to-do list. when it's late and you want to sleep, your brain gets floaty and you might drift onto topics/things you don't need to be doing, so make sure you have a good list
get rid of any distractions- your goal right now is to get your shit done and go to bed- if you spend half an hour scrolling through tumblr, that's half an hour later you now need to stay up to finish.
NO CAFFINE please do future you a favor; you won't be able to sleep and (at least for me) you can start getting really anxious
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slowlymyavenue · 3 months
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The Brainwashing Bed
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Based on a true* story.
*hypnotically induced
The title gives this one away just a bit, don't you think? This one may receive some revisions, like several of my recent posts. We'll see.
Consider your bed. Lay down, if you like.
It's comfortable, I hope. You spend an awful lot of time in it...although, probably not as much as you'd like. That's common. Few of us get enough sleep, these days. But let's focus on the bed itself.
A good bed is the right balance of soft and firm, providing a certain measure of support along with a certain degree of cushion. Everyone has a slightly different preference on this, sure, but the idea remains universal: your bed has to have the right balance.
Beyond that, it should keep you warm - but not too warm - and cozy. Pillows and blankets and comforters and all those nice accessories help with this, that's true. Your bed may be any of several different compositions, ranging pretty wildly in cost. It could be one of the larger investments in your home.
But underneath all that variability, the goal is shared. A good bed helps you sleep. You feel safe in it; it's easy to get comfortable, relax, and enjoy the way it feels.
This makes it the ideal delivery mechanism for a particular experiment of mine...not that I'd modify your bed, of course. The experiment is a fun one to discuss, however, so indulge me a bit, won't you?
I thought you might.
Consider your bed, with a subtle shift in purpose. It remains primarily designed to keep you comfortable, warm, and safe, but there is an additional function hidden beneath. There is an intent to guide that relaxed version of you into a state of compliance, submission, obedience. In short, something has been done to your bed so that it will help brainwash you.
It's perfect, really, don't you think? All the necessary components are present already. Your brain associates the bed with comfort, safety, relaxation, sleep...so the bed need only be given the smallest degree of capacity to guide that state in a different direction.
It varies from bed to bed, as most experiments vary from person to person. Some are given a device that emits a low pulsing vibration: soothing, inexorable. Others receive the less-tame form of a heating pad: penetrating warmth to relax the body and melt the mind. Still others find an almost imperceptible static sound surrounding them at bedtime: slowly overpowering the sound of your own thoughts.
But it wouldn't be very scientific of me to reveal which one you'd get, would it? You'd expect the effect and react accordingly. If I were going to make those modifications, your bed would receive all of those upgrades...and perhaps more.
Like I said, though, I wouldn't do that. Well, not unless you volunteered for the experiment, or really really really wanted me to do it. What other things would I change about your bed? Good question.
Subtle is the goal at first. You shouldn't notice anything immediately; it needs to take awhile. You'd find it more difficult to think, of course, and you'd feel more willing to accept my words without a second thought. Would you be able to distinguish that from simple drowsiness, though? Would it be too late by the time you did?
That's the idea. Your bed knows you, in a way, spending so much time together with you. It's fairly straightforward to use that knowledge to make the correct alterations. I like to provide a sense of intent, as if the bed itself wants you to surrender. If you were, somehow, part of the test group, your bed would be able to slip restraints over your legs without your perception of it.
What's that? Are your legs bound? Interesting.
It's important to relax, still, so you'd find it extremely difficult to struggle against the restraints. Whatever means of influence the bed has been enhanced with would be dedicated to keeping your body as close to limp as possible. Your mind, well, that follows naturally with your body. Heaviness makes it hard to think.
Besides, there'd be no time to really focus on your predicament before the bed entered the programming phase. That's where the design truly shines, if I do say so myself.
You see, we both know you've pleasured yourself in bed; it knows that, too. It knows the method you use most, the way your body moves, the sounds you make, the toys you've tried...all of it. All I have to do is provide it with the means to stimulate your body; it could already have your legs restrained, and spread. Oh, there are also restraints for your thighs, hips, torso, arms, and even your head. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, thrashing about, now would we?
The restraints can be selective, yes. The primary purpose is still to keep you comfortable (and perhaps you aren't even in bed yet, only learning about the experiment and deciding whether to participate). You'll be bound only as tightly as needed, or wanted.
What happens then? Programming phase requires you to be more receptive than usual, so you'd be stimulated accordingly. The bed has new attachments for that in case you aren't able to move: vibrators attached to arms attached to pistons and springs whirring to life between your legs, pheromone emitters beneath or inside your pillows to flood your body with instinctive heat and lust, cables to connect to your headphones and override the sounds, maybe even a gag to slip into your slightly open mouth if you tend to get loud when you pleasure yourself.
In early stages of testing, the bed simply used the influence methods - sound, vibration, warmth - to compel you to pleasure yourself. You've felt the urge before, I suspect, even before the upgrade. Simple, but very potent. It's okay, if the restraints weren't comfortable, you'll be free to touch yourself -or- use the attachments.
Once you begin to feel the pleasure from whatever source, the bed begins to feed you instructions. These are typically echoes of my words, mantras, coupled with flashes of obedience, submission, and surrender. If the restraints seemed too excessive, you'd be touching yourself while these compulsions are fed to your relaxed, compliant brain. If the restraints were necessary, the bed would be stimulating you just the way it knows you like.
The beauty of the design is that you are naturally fairly helpless when you're in bed, especially if you've been appropriately relaxed, restrained, or otherwise subdued. The brainwashing is able to flow freely into your receptive head, and by the time you've been brought to orgasm - by your own hand, or by the bed itself - you're simply...sleepy.
Because the bed, of course, is still meant to guide you to sleep. The entire programming phase, it would be draining you as much as needed. Drifting off becomes a bit of a foregone conclusion, by then.
Does the stimulation continue even after you fall asleep? Of course. Additional programming is fed to your sleeping self, even as the bed resumes its more innocuous disguise while the night goes on. Some subjects forget the brainwashing bed by the time they awaken. Others remember clearly and are drawn to it, eager to surrender again.
That's the real experiment, you see. I wouldn't modify your bed like we've discussed, unless I already have. I seem to have misplaced my notes, so who knows?
Do you have a brainwashing bed? Do you feel it calling?
Or are you already bound and being brainwashed as we discuss it?
Either way, as always, enjoy.
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donutz · 3 months
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yeah fs! It would be alr if you did one where reader continuously like rub Catnap's ears! ^.^
Okay! ^_^
Catnap x touchy(not weirdly) reader
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—☆You are a human in this
Being a little kid, who’s an orphan, at a big place with a bunch of toys can make you quite interested in things. There’s a lot to explore, people to meet, toys to see, and a bunch of colors to look at.
When you’re basically living in this factory, you can get bored. Even with everything that’s going on.
But if you’re being taken care of by some toys? You can’t really get bored.
Especially at 5 years old.
There’s these animals, called Smiling Critters. And they take care of you! They all love and cherish you. You were shy, but they really brought out your social side.
Anyways let me stop rambling, there was this cat. That cat didn’t interact with the children, unless it was bedtime. But during the day, he was gone.
Well, not completely. Sometimes he was but you have no idea where he was at those times. When he was actually here, just not interacting with kids, you’d always see him in a high place. Watching everybody.
But when you stare at him for too long, he moves. Yet you still find him every single time.
You wished he didn’t run away from you :(.
Since you’re a good kid, you went to sleep at the times you were supposed to.
But since he came out when you’re supposed to sleep. One night, you decided to stay up and roam the halls.
“Why are you gonna stay up?”
“Because I wanna see the kitty!” You whispered to your friend.
“What kitty?”
“The one that comes out at night!”
Your friend was a little wary after hearing that, they didn’t know that!
“That’s spooky…”
“Well I like cats!”
“Are you gonna come with me?”
They shook their head, making a mumbled, ‘auh auh’ (Idk, I tried my best trying to give that a word)
“I’m too sleepy…”
“Okay!”
Then, after that you waited, until it was bedtime. You opened the door, looking at both sides, making sure there wasn’t any other critter lurking around.
Then, you stepped out.
It was quite cold in the halls, but it was fine you had your robe, long pants and slippers.
You looked back one second, turned around and there he was!
You let out a gasp, “Kitty!” And gave him a hug.
He looked at you, processing. Why were you hugging him?
Whatever. You needed to sleep. But they said to not use the gas. He doesn’t care about what they say, but he didn’t want to give you nightmares.
Plus, you were pretty warm.
So to not let go of that warmth, he picked you up.
“Oh! Kitty you’re so strong—!” He looked up at you, carrying you with one arm, he put a finger over his wide smiling mouth.
“Oops, sorry.. ^_^” He carried you over to your room, wait. Where was your room?
Great, now he had to ask.
“Where’s… Your room..?”
“Oh, I don’t know!”
.
.
.
“O-kay.”
He could take you up to the ‘adults’ but—
You started petting his ears. “Your ears are so fluffy!” You said while whispering.
Out of his control,(kind of) he started purring. You let out another gasp, “You purr too?”
“...”
“You really are a kitty!”
Fun fact, you loved cats.
Another one, you just might be his favorite kid.
Since he didn’t want to take you to the adults, and didn’t know your room number(even if your friend tells you multiple times) he took you to his critter room. Even if no kids were allowed in there.
All of the critters were asleep, except for him, of course.
He placed you on his bed, and went on it too.
And he stared. Waiting for you to sleep.
“Oh yeah, what’s your name kitty?”
“... Theo…”
“(°〇°), Theo.. That’s a cool name..”
He got off his bed and started to leave. Because of this, you did it too, and followed him. Though he knew you were doing this he didn’t stop.
He randomly sped up and ran to another place. It was so abrupt, you weren’t able to catch up!
By the time you turned a corner, he was gone. But his lavender scent wasn’t. You followed and followed it. 
Until it led to the school. Even if you’re not supposed to go there at bedtime, you wanted to catch up with Theo.
And you can want to catch up with Theo at any time!
Oh great! You found him!
But he was bigger. Lankier. He wasn’t the smaller and plush cat you just saw.
That’s still Theo.
So you didn’t care, you followed and followed, until it led you to a big play area, with different colored soft blocks used as a structure.
This place is really big. Anyways, Theo!
You saw him go to this smaller area, you went inside and saw him. Sitting, bending over just to see you.
“Theo!” You exclaimed, raising your hands in celebration.
Of course, you gave him a big hug.
“That was a nice game of tag! But I’m sleepy…”
Theo used his long tail to grab you, gently. He brought you to his bed, and sat you there.
“Oof!” Then he wrapped himself around you, cuddling against you.
You turned around and laid against him.
“You’re so warm, Theo.” You softly held his tail. And as you went to sleep, you could hear a loud purr.
.
.
.
After that, you found Theo every time he was hiding, but instead of just looking you called his name.
But every time you did, he left.
A day after that he told you to not call him out. Just stare at him. But when he’s down, actually on the ground, you could come to him, but call him Catnap.
He doesn’t want them to get mad at him again.
And now almost routinely, because sometimes you wanted to just sleep, you went out of your room at bedtime just to see him.
It got so bad that he even allowed you to just hug, rub his ears, and play with his tail whenever.
He even started coming down even more. Just for you.
The critters noticed, Dogday even asked about it but Theo stayed silent.
You were special. Special to him.
Even after all these years. Even after getting adopted. Even after you arrived.
Coming back to the place that was once called home.
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