#and that was how my hyper fixation of now six months began

[gladiatortale]

Therapeutic Fandom Obsessions Round 2: ELECTRIC BUGALOO 🎉🎉 ...with some MAJOR edits lol

EDIT: oh what a fucking STORY THIS ONE IS. so. I had every intention in the universe of posting this in January like I did last year... but my partner at the time happened to read (as you'll see down below) the lil "life updates" section over my shoulder and THAT is how he found out I have been (still am??) questioning my gender identity.

It was not a conversation I was ready to have with him/ wanted to have with him (which maybe should have been a bigger red flag... BUT I DIGRESS), and it began a six month winding path to the collapse of our relationship. Was this the only thing? No. Did it, in conjunction with the fights we both had and weren't having (it was weird...), become what did us in in the end? Yeah. Little bit.

I was in a swirl of emotions from the time the conversation happened until the break up, and I'm still in a bit of a swirl now. But I'm doing better. Feeling more myself than I have in a while, and being forced to FEEL my emotions and not lean on/ focus on someone else's emotions (AND BOY HOWDY is my brain fucking LOUD without a good distraction). I've found some "good distractions" in the last six months, but mostly found joy the company of friends and their phenomenal support. I'll fill you in on all that nonsense next year (or in January because this is the halfway point lol) so stay tuned for part three! ;) But INDUDGE ME FRIENDS. Pretend we're still in January with my fandom recaps! And I hope you find some joy in my blast from the past xxx

END EDIT.

hellooooOOOOOO EVERYONE!! Thought you'd seen the last of these posts from me?? THINK AGAIN.

Is it a little late to be posting a New Year's post? MAYBE. Did my partner come to visit and it took up all my attention because I missed him more that words could say??? ALSO MAYBE. lol

But I guess you can call this my official decision to make this an annual thing. *shrugs*

Well. What a fucking year. Somehow someway my mental health (are we even allowed to say that on here anymore???) has improved this year. Don't get me wrong. I'm still a hopeless insomniac, and you could practically set your calendar by the cycles of my seasonal depression. But somehow, in spite of all that, I've actually made strides toward feeling better.

MINI RECAP.

I moved to California to take care of my grandmother (and she managed to take care of me in ways I never expected).

I'm finally moving forward with a diagnosis (still up in the air on what the fuck is going on BUT HEY. PROGRESS).

Had an (ongoing) gender crisis that was NOT FUN to deal with so late in the game... but still glad it happened.

I found a job I really enjoy in a field I've always wanted to get in to.

And perhaps most importantly, I've reframed the way I think about from "getting better" to "feeling better." --- Said this last year, but I don't think whatever is going on upstairs is something I'll really ever truly "heal" from. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try and make myself feel better.

And between the little ways (reframing my phrasing and thinking), to the much bigger shit (facing my fears around doctors, diagnoses, and medicine), I've made progress I can be proud of this year.

And perhaps my hyper fixations are only salve and bandaids on top of much bigger wounds, but they (AND THE BLESSED AND BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE THAT ENJOYED THEM WITH ME) helped me get through a tough year.

So I hope everyone that's reading this found some joy in 2021 and will find so much more of it in 2022. And hey, if you're looking for a rabbit hole to fall down in search of some dopamine... this list this always here, and I'm ALWAYS around to chat ;)

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, PLEASE ENJOY MY OBSESSIONS OF 2021 🎉🎉

January 2021 -- Bungou Stray Dogs (Anime/Manga)

DAMN DANIEL BACK AT IT AGAIN???? (Did I just bring a vine reference into a post from 2021? Yes. Yes. I did.) but LORD IN HEAVEN, I'M BACK ON MY BULLSHIT.

STORYTIME. In November of last year, I managed to drag @idancewiththefairies down the anime rabbit hole with me and she wanted some recommendations for Top Tier shows after finishing Yuri!!! On Ice. I tossed Bungou Stray Dogs in her general direction and the rest is history.

HOLY HELL did my fandom obsession come back with a burning passion. The flame was FULLY reignited and I'm so glad it was.

Joined the fandom: April 2020

Obsession peaked: I *THOUGHT* it peaked in 2020, but that was NOTHING compared to January 2021.

Fandom friends: @idancewiththefairies hi ;) xxx, @lil-1nsane, @aeriamamaduck -- I've managed to kidnap all the usual suspects...

Fanfics you NEED to read:

'The Shinigami' by @cataclysmicevent2019 -- Supernatural Yakuza AU. She was already the unprecedented QUEEN of BSD and Soukoku fics in my mind and had earned my undying loyalty... AND HOLY HELL THIS FIC just reinforced that even more. Desperately waiting for this one to finish updating.

'Always Yours' by @cataclysmicevent2019 -- ABO period piece with arranged marriage(s). God bless Rachel and her eternal undying patience to put up with me as she waited a million fucking years for me to finish this fic. AAAAAHHHHHHHH. HOW DID YOU DO THAT??? oh man oh man oh man. This fic is a DOOZY. Lures you in with a false sense of security and then breaks your fucking neck with chapter 6. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND YOU WILL LOVE IT.

Favourite moments:

Pacing back and forth in my aunt's garden (and getting a nasty sunburn) for hours voice noting with Rachel around fan theories and fanfiction recs.

Finally getting in to the manga -- and boy HOWDY did I REALLY get in to it (RIP my wallet).

Commissioning one of my favourite artists to do a piece for one of my favourite fanfics -- THIS MASTERPIECE if you haven't seen it already.

March 2021 -- Violet Evergarden (Anime/Movie)

Full disclosure. I don't cry at movies. I just don't. Honestly wish I could, you all make it sound so therapeutic. BUT THIS SHOW. oooooOOOOHHHHOO LORD. THIS FUCKING SHOW. TO SAY I WAS UNPREPARED FOR HOW THIS WAS GONNA MAKE ME FEEL IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR.

Violet Evergarden had been floating through my Netflix recommendations for nearly two years by the time I decided to pick it up this past March. BRILLIANT DECISION this is one of those shows that is FULLY worth the hype.

And KYO ANI, stunningly gorgeous as always. Watching any one of their beautifully animated shows from pre-arson attack days is always tinged with a touch of melancholy, but it is nice to think the animators live on through their art if even in a small way.

Go watch it if you haven't; the message is timeless, the world building and character development are both stunning, with an art style that is simply out of this world.

Joined the fandom: March 2021

Obsession peaked: Around the same time -- this was a fast and fierce love affair.

Fandom friends: Aileen xxx

Fanfics you NEED to read: SEND ME YOUR RECS IF YOU KNOW ANY GOOD ONES.

Favourite moments:

EPISODE TEN. HOLY HELL IN A HAND BASKET. Can you call a borderline trauma response a favourite moment??? idk brah but it was soooo good. Literally had to watch the end like three times bc I kept crying and missing the subtitles...

Catching up with the show in time to watch the final movie in the cinema (in a rare moment when the pandemic was a bit more mild... what a hopeful time lol).

FINALLY getting my non-anime friend into the medium with this show (and making her cry at the same part as me).

March 2021 -- Figure Skating (Sport)

At the risk of this list becoming just the same as 2020's recap... here is the SECOND fandom to make a reappearance!

I don't think my love for this sport is ever really going to dwindle or die, but it certainly has had its moments when it's shone brighter and March 2021 was definitely one of them.

I got myself up at ASS CRACK O'CLOCK in the morning on the day of worlds (and then again like three weeks later for WTT) to scream in silence as the sun came up and I FREAKED OUT ABOUT THAT RESULT (hooooLEEEE MOTHER I did NOT see that one coming).

Joined the fandom: Childhood. 'Tis one of my oldest fandoms. Obsession peaked: (re)peaked in March of 2021. Fandom friends: HARUKA YOU QUEEN. Thank you for staying up/ waking up to chat with me xxx Fanfics you NEED to read: NONE ABOUT REAL PEOPLE NOOOOO THANK YOU. Favourite moments:

Live reacting and Instagram story-ing to World's at ASS CRACK O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING (thank you California and your ridiculous timezone).

Kaori and her stunning Matrix skate at all times this season but ESPECIALLY at Team Trophy.

Ranting with Rachel as always ;) xx

April 2021 -- Demon Slayer (Anime/Movie)

Sandra my dear. I should never doubt your recs (and yet somehow I'm still dragging my feet on FMAB...) BUT THIS TIME. I ACTUALLY TOOK YOUR ADVICE IN A TIMELY FASHION. Best decision of 2021.

OOOOOH THE ANGST. OOOOOOOOOH THE ANIMATION (!!!). I was not prepared for how this show was gonna fucking WRECK me. Walked into it thinking, "hmmm, monster-of-the-week-shounen. how bad could it be?"

BAD. VERY BAD. SO VERY BAD. but also SOOOO FUCKING GOOD. If season two and Mugen Train haven't made you hop on the bandwagon at this point idk what will. But believe me when I say this is FAR from your run-of-the-mill action/monster shounen.

Joined the fandom: April 2021

Obsession peaked: Almost immediately after.

Fandom friends: PAULIUS MA BOIIII, @aeriamamaduck thank you Sandra xxx.

Fanfics you NEED to read: Some how I haven't gotten around to this fandom yet, but I know it's coming.

Favourite moments:

Driving down the 405 and singing along to 'Gurenge' on full blast after watching Mugen Train (I NEEDED A PLACE FOR MY FEELINGS TO GO.)

Managing to stay spoiler free for TWO YEARS... but then seeing a spoiler on a Gigguk video THAT DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH DEMON SLAYER. still salty...

Eating my words on this being an overhyped shounen. Sometimes it feels great to be wrong.

May 2021 -- Fruits Basket (Anime)

oh my babies how i've fucking missed you... WAY BACK IN THE YESTERYEAR OF THE ANIME DARK AGES (lol) when your lil bean was just getting in to anime, this title came up CONSTANTLY on "must watch lists." And while I feel like I eventually learned the plot through osmosis without ever sitting down to watch the full thing.

FAST FORWARD TO MARCH OF 2021. I am hit by the sudden unexplained urge to fucking RAWDOG one of the most traumatic scenes in shojo anime (perhaps all of anime) with no build-up, no foreplay. Yes, season 1, episode 24 (WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING???)

FAST FORWARD AGAIN TO LATE APRIL OF 2021. I am pulled head-fucking-first into the orbit of a fandom I'd been skating around for nearly a decade and I have ZERO regrets. The anime broke my heart and put it back together again all at once, a GORGEOUS and fitting end to the Furuba saga.

Joined the fandom: idk brah... somewhere in my past??? Feels like I was kind of always there in some way.

Obsession peaked: May 2021. I could not fucking shut up about it.

Fandom friends: Raneen. Thank you for you stunning edits my dear.

Fanfics you NEED to read:

'I'll Be Standing By You' by Eboni -- Cancer Death Fic. OHHHH MAAAAAN. I read the tags. I often actively CHOOSE death fics. I knew what I was getting in to. *inhale* BUT HOLY HELL THIS HURTS LIKE A BITCH. Told almost exclusively from Yuki's POV, this stunning portrayal of the Sohma family faced the impossible and impending reality of Tohru's death fucking was so unbelievably good. If you're brave enough, READ IT.

'Another Banquet?' by SailorSong -- Future Fic, One-shot. Sweet future fic, largely canon compliant and some pseudo-angsty banter between Kyo and Yuki that warmed my cold dead heart.

Favourite moments:

Losing my fucking MARBLES with Yuki and Kyo's backstories in season 2, part 2 (THE ANGST. THE HAT. THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN FRIENDS. I WILL NEVER GET OVER IT.)

Yuki and Kyo FINALLY having it out when the truth is revealed in season 3. ("Me!? I was jealous of you!" OH LORD SAVE ME. NOW I will never get over it EVEN MORE.)

June 2021 -- The Case Study of Vanitas (Manga)

Ass-kicking bisexuals. That's it. That's the whole show. Well... not the whole show, but a sizable portion gives off the *vibe* ya know? ;)

This was one of the first times I started with the manga rather than waiting for the anime. holy fuck I'm so glad I was impatient. Both Jun Mochizuki's art style and the story itself are so stunning (and the manga covers are just breathtaking so I recommend picking them up if you get the chance).

I specify with this series that I've only really become invested in the manga because despite the anime coming out around the same time, I've really had trouble sinking my teeth (heh. vampires. teeth.) into for some reason. I think the truth lies in the manga itself; the anime is very true to the manga but both are pretty slow in the beginning. Other than a very sneaky plot point revealed at the end of episode one (and chapter one) it does drag for the first couple of chapters, and THEN takes off like a shot. For people looking to get into either version KEEP GOING, it is soooo worth it. But even I will admit it *is* a slow start.

Joined the fandom: June 2021

Obsession peaked: Hilariously peaked right after I finished reading volume 8... oh the irony.

Fandom friends: Annika (@/mid_wintxr on insta), your edits kill me dead girlie xx

Fanfics you NEED to read: NEED to get around to fics in this fandom. I can just TELL they're gonna be good.

Favourite moments:

Driving all the way to fucking San Diego in pursuit of volume one of the manga during a printing shortage. Sounds way less fun than it actually was.

Getting through my first manga binge read with this series.

July 2021 -- Given (Anime/Movie)

In direct contrast to my previous month's obsession... bisexuals I would like to give an ass-kicking to.

HOOOOOOEEEE BOIIIII. Idk what I was expecting y'all but there was WAAAAAY more angst than I prepared for. HOLY FUCK. The Yuki plotline??? THE MOVIE?????

Joined the fandom: July 2021

Obsession peaked: also July 2021

Fandom friends: Fiji @lil-1nsane, thanks for suffering with me.

Fanfics you NEED to read: Haven't found any that have really grabbed me yet.

Favourite moments:

Jumping around the house like a madwoman as I kept pausing the movie because I was so stressed.

Playing a game of "musical chairs" with different Barnes & Noble locations trying to find the later volumes during a paper shortage... (idk if this counts as a "fave" moment, but it was sure memorable).

August 2021 -- Free! Iwatobi Swim Club (Anime/Movie)

Lord in heaven, I have never been so late to the party. To be honest, it shocks even me that I jumped on the Yuri On Ice train before paying dues to its Queer-Subtext-So-Overt-It-Stops-Being-Subtext older sibling show. (Literally this show is the sports anime equivalent of, "This bitch walked, she fucking strutted that runway mama, so that PEPPA. COULD. RUUUUUUN!!") But hey, better (EIGHT YEARS) later than never.

OH MAN. I did not count of how much these boys would fucking crush my heart. As a former competitive high school and recruited college athlete (shocking I know lol), this hit me in the feels WAAAAY harder than I was expecting. The subtle undercurrent of pressure and angst (tied together with a fucking BRILLIANT voice cast) made the show feel more real, and completely addicting to watch.

So if somehow you have managed to avoid this gem over the last decade, and are looking for a high school sports anime that is angstier than Haikyuu (I'm sorry Haikyuu fans please don't kill me xD) THIS is the perfect place to go.

Joined the fandom: July or August of 2021. Harder to pin this one down bc I spent months TALKING about picking up this show without ever actually DOING it.

Obsession peaked: September-ish? But tbh still going strong. This show has quickly snuck up into my favourites list.

Fandom friends: Rachel... FINISH SEASON TWO DAMMIT.

Fanfics you NEED to read:

'Coral and Bone' by @macbetha -- Mermaid AU. this fucking fic... Honestly? I don't know why I started reading it. I'm not normally a fan of the mermaid AU, but MAAAAAAN. This fic had me eating my fucking WORDS. I normally need to be hyper focused when reading, but I simply could not put this down. I was RAVENOUSLY reading it on a ten hour noisy AirFrance flight, and it felt like I was alone (and sobbing) in my own little world. ALSO Makoto and Haru may be the main couple... BUT THE SAMEZUKA BOYS STEAL THE FUCKING SPOTLIGHT in this. omg THE TWIST. AND THE SCENE WITH THE ANCHOR. AND NITORI WITH THE--- aaaaaahhhhhhh. read it. just read it.

'Eyes Wide Open All The Time' by @macbetha -- Gritty drug and prostitution AU with a shocking amount of heart and pathos. Confession time. I have not finished reading this one. HOWEVER, chapter one *A L O N E* is enough of a reason for you to pic up this fic. It is LOOOONG (chapter one is nearly 20,000 words all on its own), but the world building is SOOOO fucking solid and it's the perfect amount of angst for your resident angst queen over here (read: a fucking HIGH amount).

Favourite moments:

The antagonist to snarky deuteragonist trend that I saw unfold from season to season. (Rin, Ikuya, I see you I see you).

SOUSUKE AND RIN. HOLY FUCK. like LISTEN. I was fully in the RinHaru camp at the end of season one. But the season two twist??? and the A N G S T. *chef's kiss*

^^^ follow up to this one. MAKOHARU. *chef's kiss*

The whole of the Samezuka team. I love me my Iwatobi darlings, but there's just something about these chaotic fools that warms my heart.

The waves of swimming nostalgia I was hit with that made me want to get back in to swimming.

November 2021 -- Vampire Knight (Anime/Manga)

L I S T E N. I CAN EXPLAIN… okay maybe no I can’t… flipped this soap opera of an anime on a few weeks back when I saw it on Netflix (the motivation to do so lying halfway between idle curiosity and my desire to fact check a few things a literal DECADE on from my first watch). I was NOT counting on this shit sucking me back down the proverbial rabbit hole.

Is it a masterpiece? FUCK NO.

Is it even all that good? Eh *shrugs* Not really. The show/series had a LOT of potential (which is why pics are essential in this fandom and I am GETTING THERE) that it truthfully never really lived up to.

Is the show worth the watch? ABSOLUTELY. Maybe this is nostalgia talking, but it’s a fun show. Dark and moody and very atmospheric, the anime is wildly melodramatic with interesting characters and the charm of late 2000s shojo that helped get me into anime in the first place. So pop open a bottle of (red) wine, sit down with ya friends and watch this teenage train wreck run it’s course. You can thank me later ;)

Joined the fandom: Like???? June 2011?? Fun fact! It was my first “big kid” anime! (I… I imagine that explains a lot)

Obsession peaked: NOVEMBER 2021. BC NOW I HAVE ADULT MONEY WITH WHICH TO MAKE POOR DECISIONS.

Fandom friends: Sandra @aeriamamaduck (imma drag you back to hell with me babes xxx)

Fanfics you NEED to read:

'The Week of Four Thursdays' by @madmaenad -- holy god good gracious lordt in high heaven... this fic... this M O T H E R F U C K I N G MASTERPIECE OF A FIC. It is a *inhale* 400,000 word, arranged political marriage, faking-dating-to-real-dating, (mostly) canon compliant, ABO, fix-it fic WITH A POLYSHIP and it has RUINED ME. OHHHHHHH MYYYYYY GODDDDD. It goes without exaggeration when I say this IMMEDIATELY shot up to my top 3 favourite fics of ALL TIME. It is beyond words. Her characterization of Zero, Yuuki, and Kaname is SPOT ON, while interlacing the framework of the characters with a maturity and nuance they FUCKING DESERVED, but never got in canon. It literally fixes everything. AND THE SMUT???? *chef's kiss* Never has a fic more rightly earned the "fix-it" mantel. GOOOO REEEEAD IT.

Favourite moments:

Watching it again ten years on and hit with waves of nostalgia.

Watching it again... AND NOTICING ALL THE QUEER CODED CHARACTERS (I see you Aido... I see you xD). They're everywhere, almost hilarious that I missed it the first time.

Any Zero and Kaname interaction. THESE BOYS. THE DRAMA. THE TENSION.

T A K U M A I C H I J O. MY PRECIOUS BOYYYY.

THAT FUCKING SCENE WITH ZERO AND ICHIRU. *animalistic wails of pain* WHYYY???? (can a scene that sad be a fave? Yes. Yes it can.)

December 2021 -- Blue Period (Manga)

wow. just. wow.

OKAY. STORY TIME.

Is it a bit cliche to call this a masterpiece when everyone else has said that a thousand times before? Perhaps.

Joined the fandom: This bad boy slipped on to my radar just after I started working at the bookstore.

Obsession peaked: I chewed through

Fandom friends: COME FIND MEEEEEE.

Fanfics you NEED to read: None yet, but give me recs if you have them!

Favourite moments: ALL OF CHAPTER ONE. The conversations about talent are just *chef's kiss*

Honorable Mentions:

Yuri!!! On Ice (Anime): Ah YOI... My indomitable steadfast love... Honestly? I could give this a section all on it's own as a "constant back of mind" fandom. It pulled me back into my love of anime and brought me closer to some of my favourite people in the world. Eternally making history and eternally in my heart.

Haikyuu!! (Anime): Listen y'all... I have T R I E D (and failed) WITH THIS BITCH TWICE ALREADY. It's just *too* happy. A GORL NEEDS HER ANGST OKAY?? But I think 2022 is gonna be the year (or a girl can dream can't she???) *shrugs*

Sk8 the Infinity (Anime): SPEAKING OF GAY SPORTS ANIME!! lol this was such a flashbomb love affair. Loved the series and was obsessed with it (and the stellar fanfics) for about three weeks... and then my love fled like the wind. Cherry's story (and the subtextual past abuse that is so beautifully implied) RUINED me. 10 out of 10. Everyone should watch.

#^^^ I just noticed the Haikyuu tag #i had no idea what i was getting in to... #surprise past me! #2022 *IS* the year for Haikyuu #but that's a story for next year ;) #text post #new years #<---- that feels weird in July lol #bungou stray dogs #figure skating #violet evergarden #blue period #yuri!!! on ice #free! anime #given #free! #the case study of vanitas #demon slayer #fruits basket #anime #text rambles #new years rambles

[corancoranthemagicalman]

Since it seems everyone is posting their Nov 5th experience, I guess I’m posting mine.

Curtesy of one of my besties @masterash​

#spn #and that was how my hyper fixation of now six months began #thanks twin #I had checked the Tumblr before going into work and saw the promo #pretty sure it was the promo #but I saw the dean on the floor with thehandprint #and I was like well I know cas is gonna die tonight but he'll be back next week #oh how wrong I was #and oh how SURPRISED I WAS #came home and after dinner it was like OH OH THATS HOW HE SUMMONED THE EMPTY WELL OKAY #THATS FINE #IM NORMAL ABOUT THIS #happy nov 5th #Nov 5th #do you remember the fifth fucking night of November #destiel #castiel #Castiel's Deal

[everafterkeiji]

Hello! Could you write anything about just sitting on their laps? with Ran,Rindo,Koko and Hanma?

this is very cute fnefjen thank u so much for requestingg this, hope u have a fantastic day and ily alwayss mwahh!! (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡ Rindou's part was short sorry

𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒

PAIRINGS: Koko, Ran, Rindou, & Hanma x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff fluff fluff, slight humor

PART 2

♡ 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎, at first was a bit hesitant because to him, this simple act of movement was about to impact on his heart. He'd have to make sure you were always okay with him pulling you in or just sitting on his lap when any other seat was taken.

- Obviously he was new to this, you could feel it through his quick paced heartbeat but smiling to yourself, you wrap his stiff arms to your waist and he looks at you, confused.

"Is this really okay?"

"Koko, you've been with me for six months."

- He gets used it eventually now that he's gotten past that barrier so he makes the most out of it.

- When you're reading a book on the couch as he peaks over to your side to read whatever you were reading but he's having difficulty with trying to keep up with his position so you turned to him chuckling. "Fine fine, I'll be right there."

- You fixate yourself on his lap, with your body turned to the side while you hold the book closer to the both of you as both his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer while you were slightly flustered at how his hands began to caress your waist.

- Soon, he always finds a way to let his hands slip under your shirt just to rest his hands on your bare waist and hip. Most importantly, your stomach when his arms were around you. He loves to keep it there, often tries to tickle you which results to you falling off his lap and onto the couch and the battle continues on.

- He likes to rest his chin or his cheek on your shoulder and pouts for no proper reason. He just likes how warm and soft your clothes are that he's willing to fall asleep just like that, embracing you like a teddy bear that he'd never let go.

"Why are you pouting?"

"Just wanted to."

- When he's excited (this is so fvcking cute), his hands on your waist would tap your stomach or continously raise his both hands in a movement going up and down while his eyes twinkle in anticipation at watching a movie or when he receives good news.

- If you're facing him while still sat on his lap, he likes to roam his hands from your shoulder down to your thighs and he just closes his eyes and rests his head on your chest as you embrace him.

"You feel so nice, also is that a new body wash?"

- Loves to pamper kisses to your nape, neck, and shoulders. It throws you off how he does it dozens of times.

"You smell like caramel" *smooch* "Oh and cinnamon?" *smooch*

- I feel like Koko would be into you doing your own eyeliner so he's inviting you to do it to him and you get too hyper that you're bringing multiple colored liners.

"Don't move or flutter them open." You instruct him as he nods and closes his eyes with his hands on your hip while you start the process of drawing the line on him, following the natural shape of his eye but you suddenly stop when his hands cascade to your thigh.

"Oh sorry, did I move?"

"No..yes."

- (DUDE imagine sitting on this mans lap while he's counting his STACKS)

- From my previous statement, he low-key tries to hide how cool you actually look when you're sat on his lap just counting the money he's gotten from his little tricks. He'd be really distracted because you just look so attractive that it loses his train of thought and he can't respond to you.

"Right, so that was the one you got from the alley last night?"

"Sorry?"

- Probably the best part of his day because he gets to joke about it around you while you help him.

"Koko, would you lend me a shit ton of money?"

"What's the purpose?"

"Just cause."

"Then no."

♡ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 already knows of your consent so he didn't need to worry about it, he's just having fun anyway.

- When he's on his phone just scrolling through funny videos and he laughs at one of them right at the time you passed by him so he instantly pulls you to his lap and just goes, "Babe, look at this idiot."

- He always does this, pulling you out of nowhere and just nuzzles his head on your shoulder and smiles at your scent.

"Aww, is that perfume I got you on your birthday?"

- Loves to tickle you like no tomorrow. You hate it, he knows that but when he sees you all happy and laughing, catch him doing that until you're at rage.

"Shuji, stop."

"Shuji huh? Thought my name was babe~"

- He likes to minimize your options when you're looking for a seat, a cocky ass smirk and he's just looking at you until you thought of something.

"Well, it's only my lap." He says with a toothy grin as his expression drops when you sit on the floor and he instantly scoffs but ends with a pout which made you laugh.

"You think you're witty?"

"No but you sure do look cute while you're grumpy, Hanma."

"You're not helping..but really I look cute?"

- He, out of all the cute things to do, likes to bite your shoulder. It's unnecessary and a threat all at once because when you're focused on something and he just adjusts your shirt to the side then takes a bite of it like some apple.

"HANMA! WHAT THE FUCK!"

"I really like that body wash you bought, you taste like it too."

- Afterwards he tries to apologize by replacing those barbaric ways by kissing your neck instead but soon, he falls asleep with his head on your shoulder making you sigh.

- On the other hand, he loves to have you falling asleep on him on his lap. He's too familiar with your habits before you doze off. It starts of with you sitting while you faced him, like an embrace. He was watching a movie that he knew you didn't like that much but you chose to stick by him. He was running his hands to your hair, something he loved to do and by then he's just whispering utter words when nothing exciting comes from the television.

"Love you, angel." He says, kissing your hair while he could feel your head drop to his shoulder and hears slight snores from you then he turns off the T.V and carefully lies down along with you before pulling the blanket to cover you both.

- He tries to avoid smoking when you were around so after he does smoke, he's making sure that scent doesn't stick to your skin when he kisses you again or when you were close to him.

- He likes to pat your thigh when you're sat on his lap, he does it when he's pissed off or just making sure you're not bored out in a meeting.

- Lastly, he loves having his hands on your bare waist, tracing the rim of it's shape with his index finger and falls in love all over again as he whispers,

"Gorgeous."

♡ 𝐑𝐀𝐍, this is another variation of Hanma. He tries to act so nonchalant about it but he just loves to see you get startled at how he pulls you down just like that.

- It's not even cute, this man follows you as you walk until he has his arms around you lifting you the plunging onto the couch like a wrestling move so you land to his lap and he's chuckling like a fool.

"I call that the cuddle tackle."

"Ran, that's how you beat people up."

- Another act of love he does is biting your shoulder.

"You little shit." You groaned, a hand to your shoulder while he laughs.

"It's called love language."

"I didn't know you were a dog, Ran."

"My little chew toy~"

- Despite his lean and really tall figure, he clings to you like a child. Slender arms with hands intertwined circling your stomach and an affiliative smile on his features like he wasn't an executive of a top gang.

- At first, he didn't want to get too attached knowing he really wasn't the ideal type of man for you, carrying a reputation that doesn't look too pretty for you but after a long night of frustration all he can ask is for you to embrace him on his lap. Biting the inside of his mouth, he knows he won't be able to stay that much away from you.

"I wanna stay with you." He whispers while you nodded. "I'll protect you."

- Back to the happy days, you better be ready to be a hairstylist. You're going to braid his Rapunzel ass hair for days.

- "Stop leaving braids to your hair when you're going to sleep." You bid, combing his hair still fixated on his lap. "Good morning to you too, angel."

- Style his hair, put clips on it—do whatever because he loves watching you, sneaking pecks to your lips as you french braid his hair into two.

"Ha! Gotchu."

♡ 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔 feels a bit shy but he can't really complain nor deny how good it feels to have you with him in such a way.

- "Are you okay, Rin?" You asked him, sat on his lap. "Yeah why?"

"Cause you're not holding me?"

- When you tell him not to worry, he does listen—he really does but there's still that one second hesitation because he knows he's not meant or suited for this type of affection but even himself doesn't know he deserved it.

- He doesn't really like to be that intimate in public because there was always enough time to do it inside his room without limits or stares from people who judge you two.

- When their isn't a brawl or a worry in his mind, he slumps his cheek to your back and just lets his hand play with your own, tracing endless circles to your palm so you turned your body to him, placing your hands in his hair.

"What's on your mind?" You asked him, continuing to calm him. "No one else but you." He mutters, sighing in to your shoulder with how he's finally given up on trying to act so tough all the time.

- He's growing more confident as days pass so when you're in the kitchen just readying the table and he's already glued on your back, smiling in content.

"Look whose come around now." You joked to which he didn't take lightly as a smirk tugs on his lips. "Okay then let me take it back." He says before carrying you over his shoulders and throwing you on the couch so he tackles you into a fit of side pokes to your stomach while you laughed as you fought back by sitting up before hoisting both your legs on either side of him, tickling him as well.

"I hate mornings now." Ran said entering the room with a disgusted look with a coffee in as you and his brother look at each other then looking back at the other Haitani to say the same thing at the same time.

"Piss off, Ran."

- He likes to run his fingers through your hair when you're studying, still on his lap. He'd attempt to braid them or try to tie it as perfectly as you do but it just doesn't look as neat.

- He likes to peak his head over your shoulder, just randomly propping his head on it when he hears a reaction from you by a video you just saw. "Huh? What's that?" He'd usually say.

- He loves to feel that you're there beside him. It's often that he'd doze off at such a comfortable position but when your head lands to the pillow beside you, he can stir in his sleep when he feels how absent your body was so his eyes flutter to open, looking for you. He sees you've fallen to the bed so he smiles and turns off the light and coming to your side once again.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

TOKYO REV : @strawberrieas @kwrg @raya-sano

OVERALL: @stesphy

#tokyo revengers hcs #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #kokonoi x reader #hajime kokonoi #tokyo revengers kokonoi #koko x reader #koko hcs #koko fluff #hanma shuji #hanma fluff #hanma hcs #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers hanma #ran haitani fluff #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani #ran x reader #haitani ran #ran hcs #ran haitani hcs #rindou x reader #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #rindou fluff #rindou hcs #haitani brothers #hanma headcanons

[bethpeaches123]

So I loved the Oh it’s You update! I was dying when they were talking at the end of the chapter and Peeta is clearly entranced with Katniss...would you pretty please write an outtake of that scene in his POV- I would love to know what was going through his mind when she was talking to him about his marriage....about what he really wants lol

Okay my friend, here you go! It got a little long...hope you enjoy!

I'll be posting this to AO3 soon too, I just don't know if it'll be separate from the rest of Oh, it's you or if it'll be a separate thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Peeta sat at a table in front of the window of Brewed Awakening, his hands wrapped around the steaming mug of tea that Sara, the cashier had just placed in front of him. He smiled his thanks as she turned and walked back to the counter, him turning back to stare at the tea bag floating at the top of the mug.

It had been a rough few weeks since he and Delly had broken the news to Connor. Every time he thought about his son’s sweet little face peering up at him as he told him he’d be moving out of their house, and Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be together any more, his heart physically ached in his chest. He hated that he was causing his favourite person in the world any sort of upset, especially his precious boy.

Peeta felt guilty. He’d tried for so long with Delly. They’d been together since high school, when they were just kids.

Back then, he’d been so fixated on Katniss Everdeen, ever since the day he’d met her, but could never work up the nerve to talk to her, let alone ask her out. He’d been so frustrated and disappointed with himself over it. Peeta had himself so worked up over it, he pushed her away as much as he could and vowed to move on.

The day Delly asked him to go to the Halloween dance in junior year, he accepted. She was a pretty girl who was sweet and bubbly, and he liked that. Liked how she made him feel. There was no real stress with Delly. No real excitement, but it was comfortable. Safe.

He didn’t really think much of the state of his relationship - he just thought it was normal to not be madly, hopelessly in love. He loved Delly, yes, but it was never passionate or all-consuming like the great romances in movies made love out to be. He went through the stages of a relationship with her, did all the things he thought he was supposed to. Delly seemed happy and so did both their families, so when they’d been together for a few years and she started leaving links to engagement rings open on her laptop, he took the hint and proposed. All the while thinking maybe things would become more passionate or...loving, once they got married.

But it didn’t happen. In fact, six months in, he realized things weren’t going to get better and was prepared to ask for a divorce, but then Delly announced she was pregnant. And he knew he couldn’t leave then. Becoming a father was terrifying but it was something he’d always wanted, more than anything else in life. So he decided to once again dedicate himself to his marriage and the mother of his child. And it worked for a little while. But forcing a marriage never works in the end, no matter how much you may want it to, no matter how much you want to put up a united front for your child.

The bell on the coffee shop door chimed as someone opened it and out of the corner of his eye he saw Katniss step inside. His body immediately started to tingle like it always did whenever she appeared. It was like his senses became heightened and hyper aware of her when she was around. He could feel almost like an electric current running through his veins.

She approached the table a few minutes later with her own mug and said softly, “Hey Peeta. How are you doing?”

He was about to reply with a smile and his prepared front, ready to fake it, when he looked at her and read it all over her face: she knew about the split.

He sighed. He should’ve known Madge would open her mouth about it. It wasn’t exactly a state secret, but he would’ve liked a heads up that people knew. That Katniss knew.

“You know,” he said blankly. She hesitated and then replied, “Yeah. Madge and Gale told me. I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah...not exactly great news.”

He pondered it for a minute and then just decided to be honest. “Is it weird that I’m...almost relieved?” he said softly. “Kind of like a weight’s off my shoulders?”

He thought about the way Delly had looked at him that last day. How resentful she looked. He never wanted a woman to look at him that way again. Suddenly, he realized who he was saying this to, and jerked back. He shouldn’t be discussing such personal things with Katniss. “I mean - I don’t mean that, I-I just...just feel...fuck. I don’t fucking know.” he stuttered. “I don’t mean it like that. No one wants their marriage to fail. I just tried for so long to make her happy but nothing seemed to make her happy. Or I never seemed to get it right. Could never get it right for years.”

He felt so defeated. But he didn’t want to talk about this with Katniss. Didn’t want her to think he was pathetic or a failure. Even though he felt like he was both. He was about to change the subject when she spoke up.

“Peeta...it could have been four years or forty years, it doesn’t matter. If it’s not right, it’s never going to be right. It doesn’t matter how much time you dedicate. Some things just aren’t meant to be. You shouldn’t have to try so hard in a relationship. Yeah, they take work, but not that much work. Not that much grief.” He watched her as she continued, entranced by her words.

“It should be...effortless, in some ways. Like when you meet someone, and you click, and it’s like… ‘oh. It’s you. There you are.’ Like you’ve been waiting for them this whole time and didn’t even realize it.”

Peeta stared at her, frozen at the words that seemed to tumble from her mouth. The click she spoke about. Oh, it’s you. It’s...you.

Like you’ve been waiting for them this whole time and didn’t even realize it.

Well, he realized it now. He still liked her. The pull he’d felt all those years ago to Katniss Everdeen was back. As much as he forced himself to try and forget about her, being around her the past few months had dragged those feelings right back up. Oh.

“Oh.” He hadn’t realized he’d said the word out loud. And that he’d been staring at her this whole time. He briefly watched as her eyes left his and flickered down to his mouth. Woah. What was that? Was she…?

Katniss coughed lightly and said quickly, “well, like I said: some things aren’t meant to be, no matter how hard you try. As shitty as this is, and as much as I’m sure it’s going to be difficult to work through, maybe this is the start of a new chapter for you. Where you can figure out...what makes you happy, without having to focus so much on making someone else happy. Besides Connor. Take some time to figure out what you really want.”

What he really wanted. What did he want? Right now...he could finally admit to himself that he wanted what was right in front of him. He wanted...her. He realized that the split from Delly meant that he was...free. He wasn’t elated by that, but it did make him realize that he was essentially on his own, once the paperwork went through.

What did he want?

“Yeah...what I really want.” Possibilities and future scenarios began to run through his mind. He didn’t realize he’d been staring at her, lost in thought, until she spoke again.

“Um, maybe we should take a look at this menu, hey? See what you’re thinking for it?”

Peeta was jerked from his reverie. Woah. Slow down. Collect yourself. Get it together. You literally just separated from your wife like three weeks ago. Calm down.

“Yes, of course. Um, there’s a few different options we could go with, like having a savoury package and a sweet package. I was thinking of a herbed goat cheese biscuit for one, but also…”

He pressed on, determined to push his earlier daydreams aside and focus on the task at hand. She seemed to space out for a minute and then made some comment about being concerned about keeping the hot items warm because it was cold in the winter, which made him laugh harder than he had in months.

When they had finalized everything, Katniss made to leave, saying something about another meeting. Peeta was reluctant, but he knew he had to get back to the bakery anyway. He stood up to pull his coat on as she thanked him again, when suddenly, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

He froze.

It was the first time they’d ever hugged. Katniss Everdeen had her arms around him. Katniss was touching him. He couldn’t let this moment pass him by.

He stiffly moved his arms around her and felt her warmth underneath his hands. He took a deep breath and inhaled. Fresh linen. Sandalwood. Vanilla. She smelled heavenly. He exhaled slowly and tightened his grip on her waist. He could feel her slight curves as he breathed in again and felt the electricity buzz through him even stronger. He could also feel the stress he’d been holding onto for so many months start to slowly pour out of him. It was incredible what a simple hug could do. But this wasn’t a simple hug. Maybe it had to do with whom he was hugging.

This was a turning point and he knew it. He was a goner.

~*~*~*~*~*~

#oh it's you #bethpeaches123 writes #oh it's you outtake #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #mrspeetamellark

[slutsofren]

Paint Me Red

Summary:  Being a struggling artist in a city filled of aspiring artists has always been rough, you were privileged enough to have a semblance of steady income thanks to the promotional work your manager, Poe Dameron, does for you. For the past however many weeks, you've become consumed with the works of an anonymous poet, one who has captivated their own cult following. Their works have inspired countless paintings of yours and in turn, you catch the eye of one Kylo Ren.

Tags: Kylo Ren reader insert / modern au / painter reader / poet Kylo / eventual romance / maybe smut idk / Kylo has Trauma but you dont have to “fix him”

Read on AO3 here!

Chapter 1: Gallery (below the cut)

You kept looking at the painting. No matter how many times you re-painted, reinterpreted this poem, your hands just couldn’t find a consistent translation between the words and your paint. You dropped the brush and leaned back in the chair, hanging your head as far back as you could and let out a loud groan.

“Why does this have to be so complicated ,” you exclaimed to nobody in particular. It’s been a month since you cooped yourself in this studio, a whole month! It felt like you’ve accomplished nothing but waste canvas and paint this entire time. All along the floor laid waste to the discarded abstract portraits you had produced and hated. Nearly a fraction had been left unfinished due to it just not working out.

You mumbled and grumbled while you stood and relocated to the workspace of the studio, where a computer and books had been thrown about. The computer woke, nearly blinding your eyes. What time is it anyways, you wondered. The sun had set some time ago, you knew just as much when you could barely see your work and were forced to lose focus to turn on a light. That distraction had really set you back.

A quick glance to your watch informed you that no, the sun didn’t just set a while back- it set well over six hours ago. The time had been creeping to two in the morning already, no wonder your eyes were straining so hard. When your computer unlocked and you opened your music app to play some background audio, you grabbed the leatherbound book that was inspiring your work.

Nobody knew who the author was, only that they released two-hundred and fifty black leather bound books with gold foiling titled “Mine” every couple of years. You were close friends to some editors down in San Diego, the same publisher that worked with this anonymous author and they were always kind enough to secure you a copy.

They wrote like it was the last thing they’d ever write, as if pain circulated through their veins. They wrote of being lost, being hurt, feeling such intense anger with no human outlet, and of being ignored and tossed away.

Sometimes they wrote like they’d be dead before the poem had ended.

Much of this resonated with you. Ever since you moved to Los Angeles, this magnificent city of wanna-be actors and musicians, seeing lights that inspired yet mocked the pedestrians down below, you’ve felt like you were dead yourself. When you moved here, all you ever wanted to be was a painter. It didn’t always matter what you painted, you loved a variety of styles and eras, as long as commissions paid the bills and your personal pieces sold at galleries, you were satisfied.

But sometimes being satisfied wasn’t enough.

You took the black book and opened to the poem you had been hyper-fixating on for the last couple of months since it was released. You interpreted it in as many ways as you could style your hair on any given day. This one spoke to you the moment you read it, it broke your heart, mended it, then threw it away all at once. To you, this particular poem breathed new life into your soul.

You read each line over and over, admired how this poet seemed to write effortlessly, as if it’s just how they speak. Gosh, what you would do just to meet and have a conversation, to understand the mysterious writer’s genius.

And so you kept painting, never seeing each unfinished canvas as a failure but rather an entirely different interpretation. You couldn’t let this get you down, you just had to keep working- keep picking up the paint and let loose.

As the days blended together, your manager, Poe Dameron waltzed into your workspace without a care in the world. You turned down the music that you had playing in the background while you worked.

He picked up one of your unfinished works, “I got you a gallery space, set for two weeks from now in Pasadena. Sponsored by the Norton Simon Museum.” The way these words rolled off his tongue was so nonchalant, you didn’t believe it.

You let out a choke, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you got a space, now give me something to tide them over with- oh, that looks nice can I take that one,” he grabs another unfinished painting. “Anyways, don’t worry about promoting it, they are all over it. They’re just calling it Artist Spotlight but they’re going to need a theme name.”

Your eyes drifted over your amazing manager, he worked just as tirelessly as you did with each and every one of his clients. It was no wonder he was married already, with a charming smile like his and the luscious hair to match made him a total darling.

“Let’s call it, Paint Me Red .”

“You got it, girl,” he walked over to you and gave a chaste kiss on your cheek and left with his silent goodbye. Although you were nothing more than his client, you loved him very much. He always gave you a rough time when you needed it but was always a person you could rely on to tell you the truth when you needed it.

To sum it up, Poe Damereon was a guy you paid to berate you like a protective older brother and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Those two weeks passed and you worked even more tirelessly. The artist in you was seldom satisfied by your creations but your manager reaffirmed even your “trash” paintings were more beautiful than the best modern oil paintings for which you found yourself taking the most comfort in.

It was difficult to remove yourself from this mindset but as your gallery expanded with each rise of a new day, you became prouder of not just what you painted but of yourself. This was going to be a showcase that you were to be proud of.

Your night came which brought nerves like no other. Los Angeles had a rough art community to grow and develop but this was the place for you. You arrived at the gallery, dressed as professional yet as fierce as you could in a shimmery silver gown that bared your shoulders in a skinny strap that had a plunging neckline. You wanted to wow your crowd with your paintings and yourself.

You poured your heart out over this collection- you wanted, more than ever, to receive a warm reception and maybe a little bit of praise in the meantime. It didn’t make you vain, it made you human.

The director of the art studio welcomed you with a glass of champagne and let you wander the space before it opened to the public. Your heart swelled with emotion as you glanced over all these white walls that supported your artwork. Abstracts, sharp lines on some, a couple that resembled portraits of a human-like void. Anything and everything of what could be taken of that single poem.

Over some small amount of time, guests began to fill the building, allowing others to finally view what you’ve worked tirelessly over these past however many weeks, well, months really. As the newness of this exhibit of yours wore off, you began to get antsy, started to bite on the inside of your cheek.

You felt eyes on you as you hid your face behind the fourth glass of champagne you managed to snag. The more nervous you felt, the hotter the room got. This is beginning to be way too much- oh stars, you can’t breathe- it feels like you’re dying, like you’re-

“Are these yours,” a dark voice asked behind you. You stood up straight and turned slowly, trying to get your mind away from whatever was happening to you.

“I- yes they are.”

This tall, handsome stranger looked at the painting that was next to you, something that mildly resembled Everts’ Studies in Desperation series. It was one of your darker interpretations, something filled with a little more hatred and angst than the rest.

“They’re very nice, what inspired you?”

Your mouth opened agaped and quickly shut, you didn’t want to look like a fish now. You opened up your bag and pulled out your trusty copy of Mine and showed the stranger. “This poet, their selections have always called to me but, Red, Mine would repeat in my head nearly nonstop until I picked up a brush and painted what it spoke to me.”

He grabbed the book from your hand and flipped through it slowly, sometimes reading the short notes you had written on some of the pages, like “I love this one,” or even, “I’ve felt like this before”. As he took his time going through the leatherbound poetry, you took this moment just to admire just how handsome the man before you is.

He stood tall and confident, long black hair that looked soft enough that you had to refrain from running your fingers through; his face was littered with constellation-like moles that truly gave his presence some warmth and beauty despite the deep angry red scar that cut threw them like a blade. The large crooked nose stood just as prominent as his ears but, by the stars, he made it work. All of these features suit his being so well, almost as if he was your own personal Adonis, you wanted to paint his beauty.

His long lashes finally looked up from your bookmarked page of Red, Mine where you had written very simply, “This one,” and a heart. He closed the black book with a small thud, almost entirely muted by the sounds of your audience mingling.

“You really liked that one,” he questioned as he handed the object back to you. You took it from him and gestured around you.

“All of these paintings represent how this one poem has made me feel. Loss, hope, anger, hurt, fear,” you paused while you looked at the man before you and held his gaze, “But most of all, this particular poem has made me feel accepted. Like I’m not alone. Almost like, it’s my turn to be strong, it’s silly-”

“No, by all means, no, it’s not silly,” he interrupted you. His eyes had grown wide and you realized he put his hand out to almost hold your shoulder but quickly retreated to put his hands in the pockets of his suit’s pants. His jaw flexed for a brief moment and he looked to his feet. “I have their collection too. It’s a good read from time to time.”

Your lips turned up in a small grin, “Yeah, they are. I’m glad to have met another Anonymous Poet enthusiast.”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat, “What’s something you’d say to them if you ever could?”

“Hmm,” you wondered, “That I love their work, I’d love to sit down and talk, wonder what they think- what their thought process is. Maybe thank them for helping me cope and tell them that I don’t think I’d be alive without their words. Heck, I’d even work up the courage and ask if they like my interpretations of their poetry. I’m not sure, what would you say?”

He looked at you almost like you had shot him, “I think I’d simply say that I’m sorry they went through whatever they did to get them where they are. That they’re stronger now.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Poe came and placed his hand on your arm and called your name, “Hey, girl. Time for your speech and then people can start buying your art.”

You looked back at your strange new friend and he gave you a small encouraging smile, “It was nice meeting you.”

As Poe began to drag you away you piped up, “I didn’t catch your name!”

“Kylo- Kylo Ren.”

You gave him a small wave before you turned your back on him and approached the stage. Poe did the honors of introducing you, calling your vision “illuminating and awe-inspiring”. Finally it was your turn.

You approached the glass podium with only a mild case of anxiety shaking within your bones. The lights, however warmly hued they were to temper against the constant rotation of art still seemed like a spotlight on you. You cleared your throat.

“Hi- hello,” you introduced yourself, mentioning you're the creator, “Thank you all very much for being here and supporting me tonight. This entire exhibit is decorated with a wide variety of my illustrations in both dedication of and inspired by the Anonymous Poet, creator of Red, Mine the poem. It is only fitting that I should read the very words that seemed to have possessed my mind these past couple months, you think?”

The audience gave a chuckle. You looked up and around, feeling hints of anxiety nipping at the silhouette of your being. Across the room, leaning against the small bar table, you spotted Mr. Ren and when he noticed you staring, he raised his glass of champagne. Urging you to continue.

It was almost as if his steady gaze and warm features guided your confidence to hold steadfast and ready, your courage multiplied and tingles at the tips of your body, sparking new found strength.This small gesture kept those dark hounds at bay in your mind.

You cleared your throat and began, “Red, Mine

This is how the story goes

It has never changed, never been altered

It didn’t make much difference

The twin suns are rising in the west now,

The world changed from when you knew me last

This is how the story goes

This life of mine would be snuffed in green lights

Then you were there to guide me

Truth is, you could never be thanked

I would never be forgiven

This is how the story goes

I snuffed the little lights that had mocked me

Tore down the buildings that confined me

I ran

I never stopped running

This is how the story goes

I found solace in red

This green and blue would have ended my life

The both of you tried and failed

I will live on bathed in black and red

This is how the story goes

This fire red consumed me

I consumed red

Now it’s your turn to run.”

At the beat of the last syllable, you could hear a warm applause, a gracious signal of congratulations. Your smile kissed the corners of your lips and your heart swelled with warmth. This was exactly where you were meant to be in life and you couldn’t be prouder of yourself.

Your speech wrapped up with the ceremonious thank yous and appreciation to all who came as well as the Norton Simon Museum for sponsoring the showcase. Not to mention the big fat check you got on their behalf.

Poe lent you a hand as you descended the platform, “Alright, now go mingle and sell some art!”

You gave him a warm kiss on the cheek and another wave of thanks. One hand took yet another glass of champagne as the other held your clutch tightly. Your heels clinked against the tile of the gallery as you floated in and out of conversation, selling your artwork and trying to network and make new professional relationships.

It was rather obvious that leaving early would be considered rude but your feet hurt as much as your eyes. All you wanted was your warm bed and soft music to lull you to sleep. You spotted Poe across the room speaking with a pale gentleman, donned in a navy blue suit and matching tie, his orange hair was just as slicked back as his authoritative presence. You watched as they shook hands and the stranger departed, leaving the building entirely without a glance back.

Poe caught your eye and his jaw dropped, just nearly bolting into a fast pace walk, attempting to keep whatever semblance of professionalism as he could without knocking any of the patrons over as he bee-lined straight to you.

“You will not believe what I’m about to tell you,” his brown eyes lit up.

You gave him a hesitant look, clearly it was good news but usually Poe Dameron was in a good mood usually meant him ending in some kind of trouble. “Then don’t tell me?”

Your manager gave you a deadpanned look and pulled out his clipboard, “Every single piece was sold before you even walked off the stage.” He handed you the order sheet and sure enough, each and every painting was bought by the same person, leaving only AP as the buyer’s name.

“AP?”

“Initials for a little someone called the Anonymous Poet,” with those words you instantly felt faint. There was no way, no goddamn way.

“Was that him? Poe, was that really him,” your voice faltered. Your hand rose to cover your open mouth, eyes wide.

He did nothing but shrug and give you a sly smile, admiring your shocked expression, “The man I talked to was not, rest assured, but clearly your muse admires you and your work.” Poe gave you a small squeeze on your shoulder, feeling your oncoming emotional whirlwind. “If you faint on me now, you won’t hear the best part,” he teased.

“What is it, tell me,” you rushed the words out as fast as you could, the heat licking at your skin as your anticipation mixed with anxiety.

Poe reached into his pocket and retrieved a sleek black business card and flashed it at you. “Expect an email within the next few days, your muse wants to talk with you.”

You felt Poe’s warm hands grasping your shoulders as you fell. After all, Poe did say to wait until after he gave you good news.

#asher's writing #paint me red #kylo ren #kylo x y/n #kylo x reader #kylo x you #kylo ren reader insert #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars smut #star wars reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren/you

[thetravelerwrites]

Sorka (Bugbear) Lemon

Rating: Lemon Relationship: Female Human/Male Bugbear Additional Tags: Exophilia, Bugbear, Interspecies Romance, Sex Content Warnings: Babies, Children, Infants, Mention of Birth Words: 4301

A super sweet commission for @floral-and-fine​ based on her monster match featuring the same characters! A single mother returns to work after giving birth to her first child, and uses a professional caregiver service to take care of her daughter while she works. The person they send is not exactly who, or what, she expected. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Despite the difficulties, I really enjoyed my job.

It can be hard for a bugbear to work in childcare, a little because of our imposing physical appearance, but mostly because of the old tales about my kind back when our existence wasn’t widely known to the public, before the secluded monsters decided to integrate into mainstream society. There used to be bedtime stories about us that said bugbears ate children, that we took them away and devoured them if they were bad or disobeyed their parents. We were a cautionary tale.

The thing about fables like those is that there is usually a seed of truth to them. Back then, bugbears did take children, but we took them from bad homes and abusive families, protecting and often raising them as our own. In bugbear culture, children are the most precious creatures and our top priority, even if they were not our own children. It’s one of the reasons why so many of my kind went into childcare after the Integration.

But prejudice often prevented us from getting jobs as caregivers. Many humans still believed the old stories and are distrustful of us around their kids. Some bugbears worked in monster-only childcare programs for this reason, but I wanted to prove to people that though we were monsters, we weren’t villains. I wanted to work with humans and be an example.

It took me some time to find a childcare program that would allow me to work with humans, but Ironblood Interspecies Caregivers jumped at the chance to take me on. My extensive education in child psychology and fifteen years experience with non-human children was something that made me highly sought after in the field, and Jukah, the owner, was excited to have me working for him. He’d recently expanded onto his daycare with an in-home care service for infants and special needs children. He was just as passionate about children’s welfare as I was, and becoming part of his team gave me a wonderful feeling, as though I was finally doing what I’d set out to do.

Even then, it wasn’t smooth sailing. The first few humans who had interviewed me turned me down almost immediately. Several wrote on the rejection form that the sight of me would scare their child, which was something I’d heard many times before, but it was still kind of a punch to the ego.

Eventually, I was hired on to take care of a non-verbal five-year-old human boy with autism named Liam, and I loved it. He didn’t care what I looked like and nor did his parents. In fact, petting the fur of my arms was one of his favorite stims, often falling asleep in my arms as he did so. He had hyper-fixations that he loved sharing with me, and though he couldn’t communicate, he was very smart. He did have violent episodes of self harm, and he was incredibly strong and could be difficult to manage during these episodes, so my size combined with my thick fur was crucial in helping restrain and calm him.

I worked with Liam’s family for six years until they moved away to Philadelphia for his mother’s work. God, I missed that boy. Keeping a professional distance was all well and good in theory, but it was impossible not to love a child one had devoted six years of their life to.

After they left, I had to go through the arduous task of finding a new family that needed a caregiver. Jukah sent out my resume’ to parents needing help, and to my surprise, I was selected within a week. Jukah had a policy of not sending pictures or mentioning race on the resume’ to prevent bias, but I still expected the first interview to go just as poorly as they usually did. I still went, hoping for the best.

Liana McAvoy was a single mother about to return to work after giving birth to her first child and daughter, Ruthie. Ruthie was seven weeks old and had laryngeomalacia, which concerned Ms. McAvoy to the extent that she wanted one-on-one care in her home. Laryngeomalacia was a condition in which the larynx was a little too big and caused the baby to make wheezing noises as if they were struggling to breathe or suffocating, but from what I knew, it was actually completely harmless and didn’t hurt the baby at all. It was still distressing to listen to, so I could understand Ms. McAvoy’s worry.

The day of the interview, I arrived at the apartment rather anxious. I was fully expecting Ms. McAvoy to reject me outright and just wanted to get it over with. The door opened and I saw the same expression I always saw when prospective clients first saw me: shock and alarm. She even took a step backward.

“Hello,” I said, ignoring the reaction and pressing forward. “I’m here for the childcare interview.”

She jumped a little as if goosed. “Oh, yes,” She said a little breathlessly. “Of course, please come in.”

I instinctively bent down to pass through the doorway; human residences were definitely not built with people like me in mind. As I made my way in and before I could speak further, I heard a high-pitched squawking.

“Oh, excuse me,” Ms. McAvoy said, looking apologetic. “She must have woken up.”

“No problem at all,” I assured her, smiling a little. This, oddly, seemed to ease her, and she smiled in return before she went to retrieve the little one.

In the moment she was gone, now that I was less anxious, I had a moment to realize something: she was gorgeous. Thick thighs, big butt, cute belly, small on top. Taller than average, for a human that is. She had most of her wavy brown hair pulled back into a pony tail with the ends bleached. She was wearing a flirty floral sundress that ended at the knee with a matching cardigan that complimented her skin tone perfectly and wore very little makeup on her adorable face, only a light mascara that brightened her eyes and a blush pink gloss that accentuated the pout of her lips. I gulped a little. She was exactly my type, physically at least, and I didn’t know how to unpack that information.

Attraction to clients wasn’t uncommon; there were company policies specifically because of it. As long as one could ignore the attraction, be professional, do their job, and not do anything inappropriate, then there shouldn’t be a problem. I was nothing if not professional.

She returned with the most adorable little baby girl, and any residual anxiety I had left evaporated. Ruthie looked a lot like her mother, though her eyes were blue rather than brown.

“She’s adorable,” I said. “Seven weeks, right?”

“Yeah,” Ms. McAvoy said, gazing down at the wiggle bundle proudly. She looked up at me. “Would you like to hold her?”

I was taken aback. Clients were always so guarded around me with their children, especially parents with infants. I could feel my face split into a wide grin.

“Absolutely!” I said, perhaps over-enthusiastically, but I was excited. This was going much better than I anticipated. I could see she was still a little nervous about it, but I held my hands out for the baby anyway.

She put Ruthie in my arms, and I cradled her carefully. “Well, aren’t you beautiful?” I said to her. She squealed and squeaked at me, waving her little fists. “Aren’t you sweet? You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Do you have kids?” Ms. McAvoy asked me.

“No, no,” I replied, still playing with Ruthie, tickling her chubby cheeks. “But I was the oldest of twelve. Practically raised my youngest siblings.”

“Well, she certainly likes you,” Ms. McAvoy commented with a smile. “And you come highly recommended.”

I nodded. “I really care about my work,” I said. “Kids deserve the best.”

Her smile began more appreciative. “When can you start?”

My head popped up in shock. “Really?”

“Yeah,” She said, her smile widening to show her pearly teeth. “Ruthie’s taken a shine to you, so I gotta listen to the boss.”

I laughed in relief. “Thank you! I’m really excited to work with you. When do you go back to work?”

“In a week, and I’m dreading it,” Ms. McAvoy admitted.

I nodded. “That’s normal, especially considering this is your first child. It’ll be hard, but you’ll be okay. And so will she,” I said, bouncing Ruthie to make her squeak. “I promise to look after her as if she were my own.”

“That’s definitely a relief,” Ms. McAvoy said, sighing. “Would it be okay if I asked you to come a day early so that I could observe you with her? Just for my own peace of mind. I would pay you for the extra day, clearly.”

“Of course. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible. I’ll be here bright and early Sunday morning.”

“Thank you so much,” She said, holding out a hand.

I transferred Ruthie to my shoulder and to the hand took shake it. “You’re very welcome, Ms. McAvoy.”

“Please, call me Liana,” She said with a smile.

After the trial day on Sunday, during which Liana watched me with Ruthie, changing her diaper, putting her down for naps, listening to her breathing, doing a small check up to make sure when she inhaled that her chest wasn’t struggling to take in air, which would be an indication of breathing obstruction, but she was fine. After Liana was satisfied with me, she returned to work the next day, still anxious but less worried about Ruthie’s well-being in her absence.

For the next few months, things went smoothly. Liana came to trust me implicitly and was happy to leave Ruthie in my care when she worked. Liana was also in childcare, being a elementary school teacher, and it seemed to give us both an innate understanding of each other.

Liana was patient and kind, and my attraction to her was still there, especially when she wore those cute floral dresses and let her hair fall free to frame her face. I did my best to stamp down the attraction, but I couldn’t help admiring her beauty in silence.

A few months in, I got a call from Liana saying she was sick and staying home, but that she’d need me to come anyway. She wanted me to care for Ruthie so that she didn’t accidentally get her sick. She left a key in a hiding place for me to let myself in.

I unlocked the door and called, “Hello? Liana, it’s Sorka. Are you home?”

“Yeah,” A hoarse voice called from the back of the apartment. Liana’s room. I’d made it a point never to go in there, but I headed toward it. The door was open.

Inside, Liana was laying on her bed, looking pale and miserable, and Ruthie was in a covered bassinet, asleep. Liana was wearing a surgical mask and doctor’s gloves. I smiled a little at the sight.

“I hope this is okay,” Liana said, a little bit of a wheeze running through her speech. “I’d feel better if you were taking care of her while I’m sick. I’m scared to death of passing it on to her.”

“It’s no problem at all,” I assured her. “Would you like me to move her out of this room?”

“Yes, please,” Liana said. “I put her in here so I could watch her, but I don’t want her picking up any germs from me.”

“I gotcha,” I said, taking the bassinet and moving it gently outside of the room. “Can I get you anything?”

She laughed, which ended in a cough, and waved her hand at me. “It’s not your job to take care of me. Go on, you two. I’ll be asleep for most of the day, anyhow. It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“If you say so,” I said with a smile. “But seriously, if you need anything, give a holler, okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” She said sleepily, taking off the surgical mask and gloves and getting as comfortable as possible. She was asleep within seconds, and I stood in the doorway, watching her breathe in and out. I felt a soft smile on my face. Even all snotty and sick, she was lovely. I covered her with her blanket up to the chin and closed the door.

I moved Ruthie to the other end of the apartment, playing with her and keeping her occupied. She was four months now and was able to sit up with support and I was working on teaching her some basic sign language. It was still too soon for her to be able to comprehend or make the signs herself, but starting early meant she could recognize the signs early as well.

It was nearing lunchtime, and after feeding Ruthie her bottle and putting her down for a nap, I looked in on Liana. She was sitting up in bed, mask and gloves on, going through paperwork on a lap table.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I still have to provide the substitute with my curriculum,” She said. “It’ll only take a few minutes. Where’s Ruthie?”

“Down for her nap,” I replied. “Well… I’ll leave you to it, then. Still, get some rest.”

“I will, I will,” She assured you.

I ordered lunch from a local sandwich place and made a split second decision to add some soup to the order as well. Looking in the cupboards, I found some tea, and there was lemon and honey I could add, as well.

When the food arrived, I put the soup in a bowl and added the tea and a glass of water and took it into Liana’s room. She was asleep again, the papers strewn across her torso. I smiled again and shook my head. Moving the papers, I set the tray down on the lap table and gently shook her.

“Liana,” I said softly. “Wake up. Lunchtime.”

Her eyes opened and she groggily looked down at the spread in front of her. Sitting up a bit, she looked up at me blearily.

“Did you make this?” She asked.

I laughed. “I wish. I’m a terrible cook. I ordered it. I did make the tea, though. I thought this would be good for you.”

“I said you didn’t have to do this.”

“You did,” I agreed. “But I did it anyway.”

She laughed, a sweet smile on her face, as she picked up the spoon. “I wish you had been Ruthie’s dad. He never did stuff like this for me.”

My heart did flip-flops in my chest. “You don’t talk about him much. And I’ve never heard you mention visitation. I hope you don’t think this is out of line, but is he involved much with Ruthie?”

“Not all that much, actually,” She said sourly. “He’ll come and see her once in a blue moon, but he never stays long. If it were for the fact that he had to pay child support, I doubt I’d ever hear from him.”

“I’m assuming it ended badly?”

She nodded. “He was cheating and got another girl pregnant,” She said. “His son, Ruthie’s half-brother, is almost the same age as her. They’re only about a week apart in age.”

“Oh, god,” I replied, wincing. “What an asshole.”

“Yeah,” She said, sipping the tea. “He didn’t seem to think he’d done all that much wrong, but I was willing to give him a second chance. Except that he chose her. Five years of my life, down the drain.” She sighed. “Well… at least I got a really pretty baby out of it. She’s definitely worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

She shook her head. “It is what it is.”

I talked to her while she ate, and afterward, she grew tired again. I took the empty dishes and closed her door, washing them before going to check on Ruthie.

She was sick for a full week, and I stayed for as long as I could each day, making sure that both Ruthie and Liana were well cared for. Liana finally gave up her protests on the third day and let me nurse her back to health. Eventually, she went back to work and the routine reasserted itself.

Another few months passed. Ruthie’s laryngeomalacia faded to nothing, and I expected Liana to put her in a normal daycare, but she insisted on keeping me around, saying that Ruthie was used to me and that she didn’t want to introduce her to a new environment that might distress her. I didn’t mind: I loved Ruthie and reveled in any excuse to stay close to Liana.

My attraction was growing into more than that and I knew it. I didn’t want to admit that I was falling for her, because that meant I’d have to quit working for her. And I didn’t want to tell her the reason for my resignation because I didn’t want her to think I was disgusting or a pervert. I knew staying was dangerous,  but I kept telling myself that I was a professional. I would keep it under control and not do anything that would put my job or position at Ironblood’s in jeopardy. I would ignore my feelings and keep a professional distance.

Even still, there were things that were hard to ignore, like the curve of her small breasts visible beyond the low neckline of her dress as she bent down, the sway of her hips as she moved and swished the hem of her dress, the sweet loving smile reserved only for Ruthie, the lilting sound of her voice when she sang a lullaby, the way the sunlight haloed her hair as it touched it early in the morning. I had to mentally shake myself every time I caught myself staring at her, hoping that she never noticed.

School was close to being done for the semester, and Liana was more busy that normal preparing for the end of the season. One day, she surprised me by coming home early.

“Half-day?” I asked as I was feeding–well, attempting to feed–a jar of string beans to a wiggling Ruthie.

Liana looked harried. “No, I forgot some of my tools here and it’s been a hell of a day. I’m using my lunch break to just get out of there and take a breath.” She sat down heavily in the opposite chair and kissed Ruthie’s head.

“Hungry, then?” I asked. “I can make us some sandwiches.”

“Sounds great, I’m starving,” She sighed. “Is Ruthie done eating?”

I snorted. “I think she’s eaten all she’s going to.”

“I’ll put her down for her nap, then.”

Liana emerged from Ruthie’s room, closing the door behind her, just as I was putting the top piece of bread on both sandwiches. “Roast beef okay?”

“Anything would be okay,” She said.

I didn’t realize she was directly behind me until I turned and walked right into her, knocking us both to the ground. The plates with the sandwiches clattered onto the floor and the food went in all directions.

“I’m so sorry!” I said, pulling myself up on my hands so I didn’t crush her. “Are you okay?”

But she didn’t answer. Her eyes were trained on her lips, her pupils blown wide. She was breathing heavily and her hands clutched the fabric of my shirt over my chest, as if she didn’t want me to get up.

At that moment, I was standing on the precipice of a dangerous cliff, and without hesitation, I jumped.

My mouth came down on hers, kissing her hard, all the pent-up tension I’d been feeling over the last few months finally being released. She kissed me back just as hungrily, grasping the fur around my ears and holding me in place. Her pelvis moved underneath me where I lay between her legs, and my cock immediately began to stiffen. This was going very fast, but I couldn’t stop it. I wanted her so badly.

She reached between us and unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants, and unzipped the zipper, reaching inside to touch me, and I gasped in her mouth. As soon as I opened my mouth, her tongue slipped inside and she moaned. I broke apart for just a moment to slip off her panties, and I was back down, kissing her lips and face and neck as I pressed myself to her dripping entrance.

“Yes, yes, yes,” She chanted. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“So have I,” I said as I slicked myself down before pushing myself inside. She moaned loudly, but still tried to keep her sounds low. I had wanted to start slow and ease into it, but I couldn’t. I went hard and fast right out of the gate, desperate and needy. She seemed to appreciate it, though, wrapping her legs around my waist and spurring me on. I braced on one arm and palmed her breast over her dress with the other, my lips on her neck. She reached down and pushed the back of my pants down with both hands so that she could grab handfuls of my butt, squeezing and digging her fingernails in.

I could feel her having the orgasm underneath me even though she was trying hard to stay quiet. Her inner walls spasmed and her body went rigid, her eyes closed and her mouth open. I couldn’t slow down, I needed to get to that crest myself. It had been a while, and I had wanted her so badly.

I popped up onto my hands and looked down at her, and she gazed up at me, opening my shirt and running her fingers down my fur as my body slapped against hers, moving her back and forth against the floor a little aggressively, but she seemed to enjoy it, judging from the wide smile on her face. I could feel myself close to cumming just as her eyes rolled back again, her legs tensing around me. I felt myself release into her and my body locked up over her. All I could do was ball my fists and ride the wave back down until I collapsed over her, and she put her arms around me.

After the euphoria had worn off, my immediate next though was: What have I done?

A little awkwardly, I climbed off of her and helped her up. She went into the bathroom silently to clean up and I wiped myself down with a wet paper towel before straightening up my clothes. Liana came out of the bathroom just as I had finished cleaning what would have been our lunch off of the ground.

“So,” She asked sheepishly. “You’re in a lot of trouble now, aren’t you?”

I leaned against the counter. “Quite a bit, yes.” I sighed and took her hand. “I didn’t intend for this to happen. I meant to stay professional.”

She shook her head. “I think this was a long time coming, honestly. I’ve liked you for a really long time. I tried to stay distant,  but it’s hard when you’re such a sweet guy.”

I laughed a little. “I’ve liked you, too. But I can’t be with you and keep my job.”

“I know,” She said. “I know how important your work is and I’d never do anything to jeopardize that. Well…” She trailed off and gestured to the spot on the floor where the two of you had made love. “I mean, not on purpose.”

“I know,” I said, pulling her into a tight hug. “I guess this is my notice of resignation from this position.”

She sighed shakily and clung to me hard before letting me go and giving me a kiss. “I’m sorry to see you go.”

The same day, I went to Jukah’s office and knocked on the frame of the open door. “Boss?”

Jukah was an orc, a little guy even by human standards due to a condition he had, but he had a very strong presence. He was the kind of guy people wanted to listen to. A leader.

“Hey, Sorka, what can I do for you?” He asked, shuffling papers to the side to devote all of his attention to me.

“Well,” I started reluctantly. “I need to quit the McAvoy job.”

Jukah cocked his head to the side. “Why? You love that position.”

“I have feelings for the mother,” I said, a little hesitant to meet his eye. “I can’t ignore them anymore.”

“Oh, I see,” He said, linking his fingers together. “How far has it gone?”

I scrubbed my face and was unable to answer.

Jukah sighed. “Look, I… I understand your position, but I have the reputation of the company to think about.”

“I know, sir.”

“You’ll be removed immediately from the home and reassigned.”

“I understand, sir.”

“And for god’s sakes, give it a week at least before you go back to her. And bring her flowers.”

My head popped up. “Sir?”

Jukah was shaking his head in a don’t push it kind of way, but continued. “No contact for a week. Then go back with flowers. And take her to a nice place. That’s an order.”

A wide smile broke out on my face. “You’re the boss.”

A week later, I followed orders and showed up with flowers in my hand. I attempted to apologize, but she kissed me before I could. Then she, Ruthie, and I went out for a nice dinner. Then, after laying Ruthie down for the evening, we spent a proper night together, just like we’d always wanted, only this time I planned to stay.

I was home again.

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[skirplyfe]

Reflections

-

This year began with a trip to Portland with the girl.

A few weeks prior, two of my closest friends from High School overdosed and died days apart from each other. I’ve always struggled with depression and anxiety, but at no other time in my collegiate career were these two beasts more prevalent in my everyday life. My days were filled with a sense of dread, emotional instability, crippling panic attacks, and a complete lack of motivation. Getting out of bed was a herculean task at best, as my nights were filled with nightmares and an inability to achieve REM sleep. I was, in short, a complete mess.

All of this, coupled with a myriad of issues that had already plagued the girl and I’s relationship, began to take a toll around this time. There was an unspoken agreement that this trip north was to be our hail Mary attempt at mending whatever issues we had as a couple before she left to work in Southern California.

The first fight of the trip took place two hours into our drive as we crossed the Oregon border. Though the fit was short-lived, the animosity we felt towards one another echoed in the car for the remainder of our drive. I began to drink almost immediately after we arrived in the city, achieving a desired level of intoxication by around 10 that evening. I attempted to hide this from Sabrina.

The next few days followed a cycle of arguments and makeups, both of us attempting to hide our true irritabilities from one another in an effort to both savor the experience of being in a new city and ignore the rapid decay of what we began to realize was never a healthy relationship. The girl hid her emotions under a guise of busywork and tourism, and I, with rigorously scheduled drinking.

As we returned home, there was little conversation in the car. Sabrina slept and I drove, thinking the entire time of how best to approach the conversation I had so masterfully evaded for the last few months.

Through tears, she told me that we could work things out, that if I could just be a man and stop hyper-fixating on the negatives in my life I could be happy. She grew furious that I didn’t cry, asking how someone so emotional could be so cold in a moment like this. I wanted to cry for her, to make her feel better, but I couldn’t. She left early the next morning, making sure to tell me she loved me before departing. I wondered if the absence of feeling could be a feeling.

The spring semester began a few days later, though I paid little attention to anything related to academics. In the days following our return from Portland, it was hard for me to pay attention to anything. Every day felt the same as the last, with minor adjustments of figure and schedule. I scheduled appointments to see a therapist and a psychiatrist.

Each day began the same, with my brain waking before my body, that semi-consciousness that occurs before your eyes open. My mind would assess the state that I had left my body in the night before; dehydrated, sore, lungs filled with tar and liver working overtime. I avoided opening my eyes and letting in the pale morning light, knowing that doing so would allow the entirety of my self-abuse to rear its ugly head. I became apt at grabbing for the bottle of Advil next to my bed and chasing two pills with the water left out the night before. After, a sprint to the bathroom, making sure to turn on the shower and jump right into shock my body into acute consciousness. After a week or so, I was adept at this routine, so long as I could avoid the mirror. I rued the idea of looking into the mirror, as it was my sworn enemy.

I did my best to make it to classes, work, and convince those closest to me that I was fine. For the most part, I think I was pretty successful in the beginning. When people pushed me on certain topics like the breakup or my mental health, I was smart. I’d give them just enough to think I was struggling but maintain a jovial disposition and parry sensitive inquisition with a signature self-deprecating humor. It’s really easy to say how you’re actually feeling to everyone when they think you’re joking. The truth at that point was that I fucking hated myself. I hated that I couldn’t muster up the courage or drive to find anything I found interesting, let alone pursue it. I hated that I was getting fat and not taking care of myself. I hated the lethargy that maintained its presence at the forefront of my psyche. But the thing I hated most was my inability to change the narrative I had written for myself in my own head, that of a self-centered, arrogant, unintelligent bastard. All of this kept up for a couple of months, the weekdays and weekends blurring together in a haze of bad decisions, fueled by a burning desire for self-destruction and a loss of consciousness. I’ve been told I was really fun at parties.

Booze and an assortment of other intoxicating substances became even more of a mainstay then they already had been throughout college. For a short period, I decided that becoming a psychonaut could aid in my quest for redemption. However, I soon found that while mushrooms and LSD are on the safer side of recreational drug use, creating a chasm inside your own mind and hanging out there by yourself may not be the best course of action for a clinically depressed individual.

Eventually, I decided to attempt to sober up, at least a little. Drugs stopped being a mainstay of my group’s consumption, and we all began to invest more of our time into academic pursuits. This was hard for me, as I had completely lacked the motivation to do anything related to school for the last year. Frankly, it’s a miracle I haven’t been put on academic probation. Nevertheless, I did my best to at least attend classes and participate when I could. But then, as things were starting to look a little better, the entire world shut down due to the bitch known as COVID-19, the Novel Coronavirus.

Fuck me was this the worst time for a lockdown to happen. Just as I was beginning to leave my house and change my mindset about both myself and the world around me, it all went to shit. The last two months have been filled with every emotion across the spectrum; rage, depression, anxiety, and uncertainty have permeated through my thoughts on a daily basis. I’m angry at the way leaders and individuals across the country have completely fucked this situation and not given it the credence it deserved. I’m depressed that there’s no time limit to this crisis, and that things that would have light at the end of the tunnel have no concrete date. I’m anxious about school and the fact that I may have to repeat classes due to my inability to light a fire under my ass and do the work on my own volition. And finally, I’m uncertain about everything. Will things change because of this? Will I be able to grow from this experience or be destroyed by it? Will I be able to get a job? Will I be able to keep the job I already have? Is all of this worth it?

All of this being said, the trials and tribulations of the past six months have made me realize something; I have the best fucking group of friends a person could ask for.

I don’t have any close family, and I never really have. Thus, I’ve never really known what being a part of a caring and supportive group is like. The friendships I’ve made over the last three years have changed that entirely though. Never had I been around so many people that make it their priority to lift me up and support me through good times and bad, checking in and supplying me with the strength to carry on day by day. Never have I felt a reason to reciprocate those feelings either, through their emotional generosity I’ve been able to feel capable of empathizing and assisting with their navigation of trauma. As a whole, we’ve grown together throughout this entire experience.

Most of what I’ve written on these three pages may seem as though I’m stuck in a rut, and that my depression and anxiety is getting the best of me. In truth, writing this has really just given me a sense of catharsis, providing me with a checklist of not things that have defeated me in the last 185 days, but traumatic situations and ordeals that I’ve overcome. While I’m far from perfect or even being remotely successful, I’m still here throwing punches at everything life throws my way. I’ll always have bad days, but in turn, I’ll have good ones too. Though it’s hard for me right now to ignore the negatives in my life, it too is hard for me to ignore the positives. That’s progress, and I’ll take it.

#coivd #isolation #sober

[health-and-felicidad]

A Sudden Fall Caused a Triple Brain Hemorrhage That Completely Changed My Life

Every mom can relate to that little pang of guilt you feel when you leave your baby to go enjoy some “me-time” for the first time. For me, that happened 10 months after giving birth to my daughter.

Some of my close girlfriends convinced me to go to a new restaurant in town for drinks. 

Being a first-time mom, I was struggling with the challenges of motherhood. Despite being a certified personal trainer, finding consistency with my workouts was harder than imagined and my social life was dying a slow painful death. 

So naturally, I felt like this was the perfect opportunity to get back out there and reestablish my life post-baby. 

RELATED: Teenager Keeps Thinking It's June 11th After Memory Resets Every 2 Hours Due to Head Injury

The Injury 

The new restaurant my friends recommended was lively and crowded. People were standing shoulder to should and all the windows open to help with the airflow. The restaurant itself was elevated—six to eight feet above the sidewalk. The only barrier between you and the window? Two low-hanging metal wires. 

My girlfriends and I made our way through the crowd to find a spot at a high top next to one of the windows. I placed my bag on the floor to make room for other people. A few minutes later, I bent over to pick up my purse when I was jostled by the crowd and lost my balance. I tipped forward and my body leaned out of the window. Panicked, I managed to grab a hold of one of the wires but it snapped and I fell out of the window, with the back of my head landing on concrete.

RELATED: The Truth About Women and Concussions

I immediately slipped into a coma after the fall. Looking down at me, my friends thought I was dead. 

I was rushed to the closest hospital and put in the ICU before my husband and family arrived. They were told that I had suffered from a triple brain hemorrhage, an emergency condition where ruptured blood vessels cause bleeding inside the brain. 

Since I was in a coma, doctors weren’t sure of the impact my injury had on my body. They couldn’t even tell if I’d wake up let alone be able to walk, talk or breathe on my own again. 

Miraculously, I was one of the lucky ones. After several days of being in a coma, I woke up and my body seemed to be functioning normally.

But my life had changed forever. 

RELATED: I Suffered a Debilitating Head Injury in the Boston Marathon Bombing. One Year Later, I Completed the Race

The Aftermath 

After waking up from the coma, I suffered from serious amnesia and remained in the ICU for 12 days. Even after going home, my memory didn’t improve. I still knew who I and my loved ones were, but for months, I had about a five-minute recall before I’d get confused and flustered by what was going on around me. I also started having nightmares, which is actually a pretty common side-effect of short-term memory loss.

When you lose chunks of memory, your brain works hard trying to remember what happened. But no matter what you try, you just can’t. I’d often dream that I was falling (a common nightmare many people have), but I'd wake up to realize that wasn’t completely imagining things. I had fallen, but I couldn't remember the entire incident, which was both frustrating and confusing.

RELATED: Why Dreaming May Be Important for Your Health

I also experienced extreme sensitivity to light and sound, and completely lost my sense of taste and smell. (Eventually, my taste came back, but I still can't smell anything.)

Worst of all, my head was in a lot of pain. While I didn’t have to undergo brain surgery, doctors did whatever they could medically to reduce the swelling and bleeding in my brain. Still, it was going to take time for the swelling to subside, and until then, the pain was something I was going to have to learn to live with.

The Physical and Emotional Recovery 

To help my mind heal both physically and intellectually, I began cognitive therapy at home. To deal with the emotional repercussions of my injury, I also underwent therapy for PTSD; this was especially important in order to address the nightmares.

Throughout my recovery, I also lost a lot of muscle and overall strength. Without my sense of taste, eating was difficult and it took months before I was able to slowly start exercising again.

RELATED: The 14 Different Kinds Of Headaches You Can Get—And How To Treat Each One

The most challenging part of my injury, however, was that it was difficult for others to see what I was going through. When months passed and I wasn't left with any visible scars from the accident—my hair covers the wound on my head and the scar on my right hand is so small no one even notices it—no one could see how the fall changed my life and how I deal with the repercussions of it every. single. day.

Those who knew me pre-fall sometimes see me as functioning normally since I can walk, talk, and do everyday tasks such as drive a car. But so many people don't understand that just because I'm physically able doesn’t mean I don’t struggle cognitively. 

RELATED: A Man Developed 'Thunderclap Headaches' After He Ate the World's Hottest Pepper. Here's What That Means

Reinventing Myself

Before my accident, if you asked my best friends to describe me, they’d say I was a Type-A, hyper-organized perfectionist. It was so important that I showed everyone how in control I was.

It is, in part, what drove me to develop an eating disorder when I was in high school and become so fixated on people’s perceptions of me. While I overcame my unhealthy eating habits, my need to appear ‘perfect’ in others’ eyes still remained.

RELATED: N.C. Teen Wakes Up Every Day with No Memory of the Day Before After Getting Hit on Head in 2017

But following my injury, no matter how hard I tried, I could never be 100 percent in control. The Ashley everyone knew couldn’t exist in my new reality and coming to terms with that was downright terrifying. 

The first few years after my injury, I went through an identity crisis, having to figure out who I was. Being in control and striving for perfection had defined me for so long that I couldn't quite grasp who I was without it. It's taken four years of therapy and self-reflection after my accident to eradicate the word “perfect” from my vocabulary and to realize that perfectionism just isn’t realistic.

Putting that work into myself has helped me live a more positive and optimistic life. It's also better prepared me for recent health struggles I've had to face. Six months ago, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, a condition where your thyroid gland can't make enough thyroid hormone to keep the body running normally. I gained 40 pounds in just two months and given my background in fitness, that was extremely tough for me.

But having been through what I’ve been through I knew that this too was out of my control. As long as I'm doing everything I can to address the problem, and being as healthy as I can be, then that’s good enough. The numbers on the scale and the way my body has changed are just not significant enough to sweat over in the big picture.

RELATED: Knowing These 9 Concussion Symptoms Could Save Your Brain

How My Injury Changed My Approach to Fitness 

Shifting my mindset also transformed how I think about fitness. During my career as a personal trainer, I've always felt the pressure of having to look the part. I thought I had to be a walking, talking billboard for my clients. But my accident forced me to realize that fitness is so much more than that. It’s not always about the six-pack and PRs, it’s about finding out how moving your body fuels you as an individual. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve since refound my groove in the gym and still push myself in ways that are necessary, but I’m so much more cognizant of what really matters long-term. It, unfortunately, took a life-altering experience for me to realize that being good enough is okay; that focusing on the moment is okay; that failing is okay. You have to realize that doing your best isn’t settling. 

RELATED: What Does It Really Mean to Be Happy? 6 Experts Explain

Now, when I take on clients and have them fill out a goal sheet, they’re required to share an intrinsic goal for every extrinsic goal they want to achieve. Why? Because both are equally important. 

Looking ahead, while I’m unsure of the obstacles I’ll have to face, I know to be appreciative of all have and what is in front of me right now because life really can change in the blink of an eye.

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This article originally appeared on Shape.com

source https://www.health.com/syndication/triple-brain-hemorrhage-completely-changed-my-life

#health #mind #body #fitness

[psychotherapyconsultants]

5 Things I Wish Had Known When I Started Dating an Addict

“Don’t let people pull you into their storm. Pull them into your peace.” – Kimberly Jones

I was finally in a solid place when I met my now-ex-boyfriend earlier this year. I had created some healthy habits for myself and was fully recovered from the eating disorder that had ruled my life for eight years prior.

Things had turned around completely for me, as now I was getting my first novel published and had a flourishing greeting card line.

When I first met my ex, who I’ll call Alex, it was love at first sight. I was completely infatuated with this talented individual from Seattle who made beautiful paintings and music. The art he made truly resonated with my soul, and he could say the same thing about my writing.

Needless to say, it felt like a match made in heaven. So after our courtship, I was more than willing to move up to Seattle from Los Angeles and live with him.

I was heartbroken when four months into living together, he revealed he was addicted to meth. He admitted that he’d been addicted the past two and half years and had been using every day up to five times.

I was blindsided, stunned, and overwhelmed with a twister of emotions. How could I have not known? I scolded myself. He was always hyper and created much more art in such a short time frame than I’d ever seen any other human do.

Well, they say hindsight is 20/20. I didn’t know he was on meth because I didn’t know what signs to look for, and I’d personally never tried meth myself.

When Alex admitted this to me, I cried in fear, certain that our lives would change for the worst. I knew this betrayal of trust would be difficult for me to recover from, as I became vigilant at his capacity for dishonesty.

I also worried that he wouldn’t love me the same after he quit meth and that the only reason that he’d fallen in love with me so easily was because he was high! But I had already invested so much in this relationship, moving states and all. I wasn’t ready to just throw what we had away.

It was ironic because I remembered feeling so happy that I had met him when I was in a “good place” in my life, but all of that seemed so distant now. We can all morph into the worst versions of ourselves when we become clenched in fear.

When Alex was in the process of attempting to quit, it became difficult to detach myself from the turmoil he’d ooze every evening.

Like clockwork, every night around nine, he’d get this vacant look in his eyes and begin to pace around. It was like a dark cloud had come over him and I wasn’t even there anymore. I began to feel that I wasn’t enough for him.

The love I had for him and the idea of us kept me in that relationship for several months after the revelation about his addiction, and I eventually realized why Alex had admitted his meth use to me. He thought he could rely on me to be the “strong one” in the relationship, since I was sober, but in actuality, I was just as fragile as he was.

And I felt too awkward setting boundaries for this recovering addict, afraid he’d feel infantilized or patronized every time I questioned him about his drug use or nagged him to stop. I felt like I lost myself again, when just months before I was so certain about my identity.

Alex continued to relapse for the next six months, never staying sober for more than a few weeks at a time, and I began to feel extremely helpless.

Those fits of restlessness and angst that overwhelmed him every night felt too close to home, and just like him, I had yet to master how to tolerate those uncomfortable feelings.

Some evenings I found strength in myself and was able to tolerate the uncomfortable emotions he was experiencing without reacting. Other nights, we’d get into fights when he’d want to go on a “drive” (buy meth).

This lovely relationship we once had devolved to one of raw, dark emotions that neither of us really knew how to get a grip on. And worst, we both relied on the other person to get it together!

Eventually, despite the fact that I loved this man with all my heart, I knew I had to set myself free from this relationship. I had enough insight to know that even though I’d recovered from my eating disorder, I still wasn’t strong enough to resist getting pulled into his troubled psyche. I needed to pull back to create my own peace again, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to get it from this guy.

It’s been about a couple of months since we’ve been officially broken up and I’ve moved back to Los Angeles to live with my family.

Many days I have guilt and regrets for leaving and not being able to help him out of his addiction. It was like all of the meaningful talks we had, trips to the psychiatrist, and meditative walks in nature were for nothing. In all honesty, I felt pretty useless to his recovery.

In retrospect, I know I would have done things differently if I knew the things I know now. Here’s what I wish I would have done as soon as I found out I was dating an addict:

1. Encourage Him to Get Help

When he first revealed he was addicted to meth, I could have been honest and told him I had no clue what to do and somehow convey the depths of helplessness I felt. Then I would have pointed him to professional support sooner and wouldn’t have taken his relapses so personally, as if I was at fault because I was solely responsible for helping him.

2. Get Support for Myself

I should have attended Al-Anon meetings and attempted to have my own support group in Seattle instead of letting anxiety take such a strong hold over me and then isolating myself from meeting new people. Supporting an addict can be draining, and no one should have to carry that alone.

3. Take Good Care of Myself

I should have made time every day to reconnect with myself in some way, whether it be meditation, exercise, or prayer. I should have taken time every day to reflect on my own journey and the progress I’d made instead of becoming so fixated on helping him with his.

Relationships often become unbalanced when one person is an addict, but both people need time and space to focus on themselves and their needs.

4. Set Clear Boundaries

I wish I had clearer boundaries for myself going in so that I didn’t stay as long as I did and watch the love we had sour. For instance, it would have been more helpful if I told myself that if I saw him using while we were together, I would have distanced myself from him.

I could have communicated this to him, as well, by saying something like “I’m all for your recovery and supporting you through your journey. But using drugs while being together is unacceptable to me, and if I find out you are using, I will have to distance myself from you for my sake.”

Setting boundaries earlier on may have prevented my unintentional enabling, which created behaviors in him that I later resented.

5. Prioritize My Own Happiness

I shouldn’t have let guilt keep me in a relationship that was making me unhappy. Like many others, I felt pretty paralyzed by fear of hurting the other person. I wished I had more strength to leave this person I was in love with because he was self destructing and refusing to really help himself.

As one can surmise, these are all lessons and wisdom you gain after an experience like this, not before, but perhaps they will be helpful to someone who’s right now standing where I once stood.

Now I am taking time to find peace in myself every day so that I am better equipped to handle another person’s baggage (because we all have it) the next time I attempt to date.

This article courtesy of Tiny Buddha.

from World of Psychology https://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2017/02/19/5-things-i-wish-had-known-when-i-started-dating-an-addict/

#World of Psychology

[positivepsychologyinterventions]

5 Things I Wish Had Known When I Started Dating an Addict

“Don’t let people pull you into their storm. Pull them into your peace.” – Kimberly Jones

I was finally in a solid place when I met my now-ex-boyfriend earlier this year. I had created some healthy habits for myself and was fully recovered from the eating disorder that had ruled my life for eight years prior.

Things had turned around completely for me, as now I was getting my first novel published and had a flourishing greeting card line.

When I first met my ex, who I’ll call Alex, it was love at first sight. I was completely infatuated with this talented individual from Seattle who made beautiful paintings and music. The art he made truly resonated with my soul, and he could say the same thing about my writing.

Needless to say, it felt like a match made in heaven. So after our courtship, I was more than willing to move up to Seattle from Los Angeles and live with him.

I was heartbroken when four months into living together, he revealed he was addicted to meth. He admitted that he’d been addicted the past two and half years and had been using every day up to five times.

I was blindsided, stunned, and overwhelmed with a twister of emotions. How could I have not known? I scolded myself. He was always hyper and created much more art in such a short time frame than I’d ever seen any other human do.

Well, they say hindsight is 20/20. I didn’t know he was on meth because I didn’t know what signs to look for, and I’d personally never tried meth myself.

When Alex admitted this to me, I cried in fear, certain that our lives would change for the worst. I knew this betrayal of trust would be difficult for me to recover from, as I became vigilant at his capacity for dishonesty.

I also worried that he wouldn’t love me the same after he quit meth and that the only reason that he’d fallen in love with me so easily was because he was high! But I had already invested so much in this relationship, moving states and all. I wasn’t ready to just throw what we had away.

It was ironic because I remembered feeling so happy that I had met him when I was in a “good place” in my life, but all of that seemed so distant now. We can all morph into the worst versions of ourselves when we become clenched in fear.

When Alex was in the process of attempting to quit, it became difficult to detach myself from the turmoil he’d ooze every evening.

Like clockwork, every night around nine, he’d get this vacant look in his eyes and begin to pace around. It was like a dark cloud had come over him and I wasn’t even there anymore. I began to feel that I wasn’t enough for him.

The love I had for him and the idea of us kept me in that relationship for several months after the revelation about his addiction, and I eventually realized why Alex had admitted his meth use to me. He thought he could rely on me to be the “strong one” in the relationship, since I was sober, but in actuality, I was just as fragile as he was.

And I felt too awkward setting boundaries for this recovering addict, afraid he’d feel infantilized or patronized every time I questioned him about his drug use or nagged him to stop. I felt like I lost myself again, when just months before I was so certain about my identity.

Alex continued to relapse for the next six months, never staying sober for more than a few weeks at a time, and I began to feel extremely helpless.

Those fits of restlessness and angst that overwhelmed him every night felt too close to home, and just like him, I had yet to master how to tolerate those uncomfortable feelings.

Some evenings I found strength in myself and was able to tolerate the uncomfortable emotions he was experiencing without reacting. Other nights, we’d get into fights when he’d want to go on a “drive” (buy meth).

This lovely relationship we once had devolved to one of raw, dark emotions that neither of us really knew how to get a grip on. And worst, we both relied on the other person to get it together!

Eventually, despite the fact that I loved this man with all my heart, I knew I had to set myself free from this relationship. I had enough insight to know that even though I’d recovered from my eating disorder, I still wasn’t strong enough to resist getting pulled into his troubled psyche. I needed to pull back to create my own peace again, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to get it from this guy.

It’s been about a couple of months since we’ve been officially broken up and I’ve moved back to Los Angeles to live with my family.

Many days I have guilt and regrets for leaving and not being able to help him out of his addiction. It was like all of the meaningful talks we had, trips to the psychiatrist, and meditative walks in nature were for nothing. In all honesty, I felt pretty useless to his recovery.

In retrospect, I know I would have done things differently if I knew the things I know now. Here’s what I wish I would have done as soon as I found out I was dating an addict:

1. Encourage Him to Get Help

When he first revealed he was addicted to meth, I could have been honest and told him I had no clue what to do and somehow convey the depths of helplessness I felt. Then I would have pointed him to professional support sooner and wouldn’t have taken his relapses so personally, as if I was at fault because I was solely responsible for helping him.

2. Get Support for Myself

I should have attended Al-Anon meetings and attempted to have my own support group in Seattle instead of letting anxiety take such a strong hold over me and then isolating myself from meeting new people. Supporting an addict can be draining, and no one should have to carry that alone.

3. Take Good Care of Myself

I should have made time every day to reconnect with myself in some way, whether it be meditation, exercise, or prayer. I should have taken time every day to reflect on my own journey and the progress I’d made instead of becoming so fixated on helping him with his.

Relationships often become unbalanced when one person is an addict, but both people need time and space to focus on themselves and their needs.

4. Set Clear Boundaries

I wish I had clearer boundaries for myself going in so that I didn’t stay as long as I did and watch the love we had sour. For instance, it would have been more helpful if I told myself that if I saw him using while we were together, I would have distanced myself from him.

I could have communicated this to him, as well, by saying something like “I’m all for your recovery and supporting you through your journey. But using drugs while being together is unacceptable to me, and if I find out you are using, I will have to distance myself from you for my sake.”

Setting boundaries earlier on may have prevented my unintentional enabling, which created behaviors in him that I later resented.

5. Prioritize My Own Happiness

I shouldn’t have let guilt keep me in a relationship that was making me unhappy. Like many others, I felt pretty paralyzed by fear of hurting the other person. I wished I had more strength to leave this person I was in love with because he was self destructing and refusing to really help himself.

As one can surmise, these are all lessons and wisdom you gain after an experience like this, not before, but perhaps they will be helpful to someone who’s right now standing where I once stood.

Now I am taking time to find peace in myself every day so that I am better equipped to handle another person’s baggage (because we all have it) the next time I attempt to date.

This article courtesy of Tiny Buddha.

from World of Psychology http://ift.tt/2lksjcO via IFTTT

#IFTTT #World of Psychology