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valentina-writes · 3 years

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Craving

A/N: Sorry, that I haven't posted in quite a while! I was lacking motivation a little bit and had a ton of other stuff to do. This one here was not requested, but the idea for it was stuck in my head for a couple days now and I couldn't concentrate on writing anything else. I will probably write some of the open requests soon.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: light smut (only a few paragraphs)

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„Come on, Y/N, we‘re waiting for you!”. Cassian’s voice is calling out to you from the dance floor. Behind him, you spot Mor, looking seriously offended you’re leaving her alone and instead sitting in a corner of Rita’s with a not even half-finished drink in your hand. Rhys and Feyre must be here somewhere too.

Even Azriel is on the dance floor, a rare sight. You can’t help but stare at him, the way his wings glow faintly in the glimmering lights of the club. His body that moves so flawlessly to the rhythm, so unlike the movements you are used to see him perform when training.

Fingers entangled in your hair, the hot feeling of his lips on yours. His voice in your ear, telling you he would take you slowly.

You shake your head as if to get rid of the memory, but still blush as Azriel’s gaze meets yours for a second.

“I’m sorry guys, but I don’t feel like dancing today”, you excuse yourself. That being said, you set down your glass and quickly escape out into the night.

Inhaling the cold air slowly, you try to calm down. It’s not his fault, you remind yourself, that you can’t seem to get over him. That you start thinking in an inappropriate way as soon as your eyes meet.

His lips met your neck, kissing and sucking on it. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your body begging for him to come closer. As his kisses travel downward you cannot help but moan out his name.

“Y/N is everything okay?”, Mor calls out to you. The fantasy in your head is gone, leaving you restless, yearning for him.

“Yes, I’m fine”, you say, not looking up.

“No, you’re not and you know that”. She’s close enough to see your face now. “What’s wrong?”, she asks. Her eyes soften as she hugs you. Mor must have seen your despair.

“I- it’s nothing, really”. At her strict look, you wince a little bit. You want to tell her. But it’s just so embarrassing.

“I had sex. With Azriel”, you start over, taking a deep breath. But before you can continue, she exclaims: “By the Mother, that’s awesome! When? Why didn’t you tell me?”.

A tear builds up in your eye and before you know it, you’re crying into her shoulder.

“It- it… it was a couple years ago”, you finally manage to say. By now all you can really feel is embarrassment. “And it’s not awesome. Well, it was. But-“. You start sobbing again.

“It was a one-night stand. He… acts as if nothing ever happened, but I can’t stop thinking about it and whenever he looks at me, I-“. You stop talking. It sounds absolutely idiotic, even to you.

But Mor doesn’t look bewildered. Instead, she hugs you even tighter, rubbing your back slightly.

“What happens then, sweetie?”, she asks.

Sighing, you gulp down your embarrassment: “I miss him. A lot. He’s still there, of course. But afterwards he stopped talking to me the way he did before. We’re not as close anymore. And above all I not only miss our friendship …”, your cheeks heat up again, “Since him I’ve never had sex THAT good again, so I stopped having any altogether. And now I’m not only missing him and kind of into him, I’m also sexually frustrated and lonely”.

You did have sex with other males in the succeeding weeks. But none of them had been able to give you the same feeling he did. That indescribable feeling of closure and … being loved. Even though he most likely didn’t love you, because it took him a month to even look at you again.

Mor’s face is a mix of amusement and empathy: “Like… no sex in years? For a guy who fucked you so good but then what? Ignored you? Even though there was this feeling that nobody else could give you?”. You nod, and she actually starts laughing. “Honey, if you weren’t that sad it would be hilarious, because it sure as hell sounds like he’s your mate”.

Your entire world shifts in that moment.

Your sweaty bodies are tangled in his sheets, gasping for air. Azriel’s shadows swirling around you, purring in your ears. With his final thrust, the world around you seems to fade away. There’s just him and you, for a second you don’t even know where his body ends and yours begins anymore.

Shocked, you look at her. “I… that kind of makes sense? But he would’ve talked to me then, wouldn’t he? I … I’m so confused right now”.

Your thoughts are running wild. Was this the reason he ignored you? Because he was overwhelmed? Was he waiting for you to make the first step? Or… Or was he not interested in the bond and wanted to reject it?

“Y/N? Mor? Is everything alright? Rhys told me to look after you, you’ve been gone for quite a while now”. You quickly wipe away your tears at Azriel’s voice. What should you tell him?

Mor winks at you, already making her way back towards the entrance: “Everything alright, shadowsinger. You might want to stay and talk to Y/N for a second though”.

And just like that, Mor vanishes, leaving me alone with Azriel. His wings are slightly shuffling behind his back and his gaze on me looks worried.

“So, uhm what did Mor mean?”. His shadows are coiling closely around his arms, showing how uncomfortable he is.

You inhale slowly, making sense of your thoughts. You find no good solution, so you just decide to start at the beginning.

“A couple of years ago we… after a celebration for you when you came home from a mission we had sex. Do you remember?”. It was almost painful to say this while watching him. Not only was the atmosphere incredibly tense, but also the possibility of him actually having forgotten about it made you sad.

He frowned a little, “I do remember, Y/N. Quite well, actually. But I don’t get what you’re trying to tell me”. For a second, you believe to see a certain hunger in his eyes. An expression you had only seen once on him before.

Nodding, you continue, “There was this… this feeling back then. Something I’ve never felt before. And nobody else has been able to make me feel the same way. I told Mor about it…”

You can’t finish your sentence, he cuts in sharply, “Why are you telling Mor this after years?”. And to himself, almost inaudible, he murmurs, “Don’t think about the other males”. The anger on his face is devastating.

You are absolutely terrified, but know you have to tell him. So, you muster up all of your courage and speek the words aloud that had been on your mind ever since, “Because I am in love with you. Because I don’t know what I should do about this, as you’re so distant all the time. And I cannot take this anymore, I miss you. I hate seeing you with other females. When I can’t fall asleep I think about this connection I felt that night”.

The pure shock on his face quickly gives way to a broad smile. “And what Mor meant is that… when I talked to her and described that feeling to her, she said we are most probably mates”. The last word is purely a whisper hanging in the air between you two. Mates.

And then, without hesitation, he begins to talk. “The first time I felt the bond was about two weeks before that night, when I said goodbye to you before that mission. It was so painful to leave you behind…”

“Hold up, you knew of the bond?”, you question him. Guilt creeps upon his face. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you ignore me for weeks after we had sex? Do you know what this did to me? All these years and you didn’t bother to just talk to me?”. Hot tears again spill over your cheeks.

He comes closer, as to wipe your tears away, but you back away.

“Y/N, I thought you didn’t want the bond. That you rejected it. Or worse, that it was only one-sided, because I couldn’t feel you across it. Rhys told me that the safest way to know was to just sleep with you, because then the bond normally clears up, but it didn’t work. At least I thought so”. The look on his face is pleading, but still, all you feel is anger and loneliness.

“So you only slept with me because Rhys told you so?”.

“No! I did it, because I love you and wanted you, truly. I still wished that the mating bond would reveal itself. And when I thought that it hadn’t worked, I couldn’t bear to be around you. I was so angry at the Cauldron, because I felt unworthy. Again. Imagine being in my situation. Having a mate, but the bond not working completely, the other person unaware of what’s going on! I did what I had to do to protect myself”.

The vulnerability in his statement catches you absolutely off guard. A small smile formed on your face, as you walk a few steps towards him.

“Maybe we weren’t ready back then. Maybe it kept us waiting, because it knew we would need the time to work things out”, you suggest, closing the distance between you and him.

His eyes twinkle in the starlight, as he lowers his head, “Well, there’s only one way of finding out”, he says as he cradles your head in his hands. Slowly, he comes closer and closer, until you can’t endure the tension anymore and slam your lips on his.

His lips are velvet on yours, only intensifying the kiss after a few seconds. He holds himself back, almost painfully so. But you are yearning for him, for his touch. And as you licked his lower lip and he grants you access to his mouth, you felt it again. The euphoria racing through your veins. And as you kept kissing, it was as if a fog lifts itself and all of a sudden you can feel him, not only against your body, but also against your soul, interlocking with it.

He must have felt the same thing, as we both gasp for air almost at the same time. Azriel’s mouth twists into a smile as he kisses me again. His wings are now wrapped around you, obscuring you from any passers-by.

“I’ve waited 500 years to find you, my mate”, he says. The word echoing through me. Mate. Mate. Mate. You still can’t believe this is actually happening, as you send a wave of love across the bond. “But I would have waited 500 more for you. For this moment alone”.

At this, you kiss him again, unable to express your emotions any other way. “Let’s end this journey how we began it, shall we? With me in your bed”.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fluff #azriel smut #azriel angst #azriel x reader smut #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x reader angst #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel x reader one shot #azriel x reader imagine

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Rex and Anakin Raise a Family: Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three – Chrono

Warnings: grief, resentment, lactation, animal death

----

For all that Anakin had said he could handle the twins, Rex still takes one in the sling as they go into town. They don't have a hoverpram yet, and neither of them could figure out a way to fold the fabric to securely hold the babies' heads up. Anakin takes Luke, and Rex takes Leia, and they ignore the whispers that still follow them.

The General keeps just behind his shoulder when they get to the hardware shop that carries the closest paint they can find in such a small town. It's not meant for armor, really, but speeder paint will do the trick for now. Rex's hands shake as he picks out the shades he needs, and the young Rodian at the register almost asks about it.

The issue isn't pressed.

They make their way back to the cottage, and Leia starts fussing fifteen minutes past the town's edge. Anakin looks like he wants to offer to take her back, but Rex is fine. He can comfort her. He can--

Anakin takes the paint, floating it along in the air before them, freeing Rex's hands to focus on the infant strapped to his chest.

"I'll feed her as soon as we get back," Anakin says, low and calm. "She's a little hungry."

Pacifier, then. They're only a few minutes out, by now. She can wait for them to get back to where exchanging the twins won't involve juggling.

Rex feels eyes on him, looks up and sees the soft, quiet smile on his General's face, and ducks his head back to Leia.

She glares up at him as well as a newborn can, sucking angrily on the paci in her mouth. Rex has no idea if she's actually upset or if her face just naturally follows such an expression, but it's adorable nonetheless. He hums to her, nonsense without words.

He's never learned lullabies; they picked up drinking songs in the field and from local soldiers, from their Jedi, war songs from their trainers, pop songs from the radio. A few learned lullabies, those who loved children and wanted their own, one day, brothers like Waxer who would have adopted Numa in a heartbeat if it had been an option.

He wants to learn lullabies. He wants to be able to sing children's songs to these tiny, helpless lives he holds in his hands, day in and day out. He wants to learn Mandalorian songs, real ones, not just battle chants and mourning melodies. He wants to be able to raise them with the childhood he didn't have.

"Rex? Door's open."

He looks up, and Anakin's standing on the porch, pulling the keys from the lock and gesturing in with his head. Rex hadn't even realized he'd stopped walking, subconsciously waiting for the blockage of the door to be handled. It's easier to focus on the children.

The paint gets sent to the backyard--trapped fumes wouldn’t be good for the children--and Rex lays Leia down in her crib. Anakin urges him to the backyard, says I’ll handle it about anything Rex uses to delay, and it’s only a few minutes later that Rex finds himself sitting on the grass, armor spread across a sheet of disposable flimsi, paints and brushes at the ready. He doesn’t quite remember setting it up, but he must have.

Anakin joins him, a twin in each arm and the Force laying out a picnic blanket. Leia’s nursing, swaddled up but content to suckle, and Luke seems happy to doze when Anakin sets him down on the cotton gingham. It’s a warm day, with a light breeze, and the babies are where the wind won’t carry the paint fumes.

“I’m here if you need me,” Anakin promises, though his attention drifts immediately to his daughter.

Rex begins to paint.

----

His remembrances are endless.

Every brother he’s ever known, every general he’s met, every small commander and random civilian, everyone he loved and knew. He lights a pyre, sings under his breath and tries not to break in a way that can’t be patched together. He mourns the tubies and cadets, the Jedi younglings, names he never learned and now never would.

Anakin gets Japor from somewhere, carves it whenever he’s too jittery to sleep and the twins are asleep. Rex recognizes a few symbols, like the open circle fleet, like Fives’ helmet eel, like Ahsoka’s markings. There are more, though, that are wholly unfamiliar, things he thinks are born of desert sands and binary suns, rough and painful and deeper in Anakin’s heart than even the Jedi.

He asks about the one for Fives, when he sees it.

He hides his anger.

Explanations, first.

“It’s an apology,” his General tells him, eyes distant. “I should have listened to him. I didn’t. The carvings are regrets, broken trust... that sort of thing. I’m part of why he died, and in that, part of why the rest is gone. He and his memory deserve a place of honor.”

Rex considers that, and accepts it.

Fives deserves an apology. The General recognizes that.

The General recognizes that he fucked up.

This is a good thing.

Rex lets go of his anger, still curled tight to his chest after months, as best he can.

He’s not very good at it, but he can try.

Luke starts crying, and Rex gets up to warm a bottle.

----

“I need to stay close to home until the twins are a little older,” Rex says. Teskarim, the woman at the childcare store, tilts her head to encourage him to continue. “I’m... I’ve never been anything but a soldier, and nobody here needs security services, but I can hunt. Do you know if there’s any kind of licenses required, or lists of which animals are legal hunt and which are endangered?”

“I... don’t,” she says, chewing her bottom lip. “But I think the butcher’s shop can probably point you in the right direction.”

Damn. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone new today.

“Thanks,” he sighs, and shells out some of the local currency for more formula.

----

The butcher has answers, and preferences. Rex isn’t much of a trapper, but he’s a hell of a shot, and decent enough scout and tracker. He listens to what there is to hear, and mentally takes all the notes he can. There aren’t any licenses needed in this hemisphere, but there are legally-defined hunting seasons for different creatures. The butcher knows when the optimal times of day are, which parts of the nearby forest and mountains are best to stake out, and so on.

Rex tells Anakin about his plan. He gets a slow blink in response, a cringe in what he thinks is guilt, and an offer to meditate for the best direction to take when he goes out. He accepts the offer in the spirit its meant, and sets out the next morning with the expectation that he may need to spend a few nights out under the leaves and stars.

The calm and quiet are their own kind of comfort. He’s loyal to Anakin, and he already loves the twins, but there’s a part of him that needs to be away from natborns right now. Anakin was a Jedi, a general, and fought in the metaphorical trenches with the rest of them, but he wasn’t a brother.

They grieve many of the same people, but they do not grieve the same way.

Rex needs the solitude. Not forever, not even for very long, but he needs it.

It takes two days, but he finds one of the in-season creatures, a creature shaped much like an Alderaan deer, but larger, and with longer fur. It’s darker in color, too, and he gives it a bit of time to wander about until he can be sure it’s a male, and he’s not about to leave some fawns without a mother. The shot is clean, and it doesn’t take him very long to tie it up and sling it over his shoulders to bring back to town.

The trek back takes hours, and the creature on his back is a pain to carry, but it’s almost worth the looks he gets from the civvies. Eyes bulge out the sockets at the sight of him, and he’s glad his helmet hides his smirk. He’s Kamino stock, hardened by over three years on the front lines, and there’s a pride in how easy the physical things are for him. It’s not impossible for a natborn to carry this kind of creature this far without help, but it’s uncommon.

He kind of likes the attention, now that it doesn’t come with the many prejudices that being a clone always had.

Anakin meets him at the butcher’s, one twin on his chest and the other on his back.

Seems he’s found a solution to that.

“Here to help me barter a fair payment?” Rex asks, and gets a too-charming grin in response.

“Well, I’ve been doing it most of my life,” Anakin says, cheery in a way that feels pasted on. “And I’ll have a trick to know if we’re being cheated.”

It’s a solid response, but Rex doesn’t like it. He takes note of the bags under Anakins eyes. “Have you been sleeping, sir?”

“Twins,” the man himself says. “And don’t call me ‘sir,’ Rex, we’ve been over this.”

“You need to sleep, General.”

Anakin pouts at him, probably because of the title. “I can handle two days alone, Captain.”

Rex rolls his eyes and sidles through the entrance of the butcher’s shop.

They’ve got this.

#Rexwalker #Captain Rex #Anakin Skywalker #Skywalker Twins #Luke Skywalker #Leia Organa #past Anidala #Phoenix Posts #Rex and Anakin Raise a Family #star wars #the clone wars #time travel #I have a couple tumblr-based ongoing fics but this one... meanders

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oldguardhc · 3 years

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Headcanon that joe and Nicky have all (and I do mean *all*) of their old wedding rings. Whenever a bad death occurs or a war or if they just feel like it they retire the rings to their malta house so that they can look back on them later and remember the times they had. Joe always keeps two of their collective rings on his person- one for him, one to quickly slip on Nicky’s finger should they need or want to suddenly be married. In almost a thousand years they have lost exactly 8 of them

Old Guard hc #124

Nicky can’t stop staring at Joe’s hands. More specifically, Nicky can’t stop staring at Joe’s bare fingers. It’s not like Joe never takes his rings off. He always takes them off before a mission because they get in the way of his leather gloves; hell, he had them off a week ago, when they were in Sudan and only slipped them back on after they arrived in Goussainville. So Nicky’s not a stranger to Joe’s bare fingers; yet, he can’t stop staring at them.

They’re bare and wrong and it’s driving Nicky insane.

The obvious solution would be to bring the last two rings out of retirement. They’ve only been in the safe for a of couple days and nobody but them would even know, much less care. But every time Nicky thinks about grabbing the two rings, he sees flashes of Joe strapped to the gurney as Kozak takes sample after sample, tastes the cold sterility of the lab, smells the biting alcohol Kozak bathed them in.

Nicky shakes his head. They retired those rings for a reason.

He just needs to suck his feelings up for several more days until they get the green light from Copley and then they can go down to a jewelry store. They’ll get some new rings and they can immediately start creating happy memories to look back upon when the rings are inevitably retired. Just a couple more days.

He can do this!

He cannot do this.

He tries. Even though his husband is very beautiful—the most beautiful man in the world, in Nicky’s humble opinion—Nicky can’t keep his eyes on Joe’s face. They always start on Joe’s face; but Joe has picked up this awful habit of speaking with his hands and how can Nicky not notice the missing rings? Joe is literally waving the fact right in Nicky’s face!

“Alright, we’re going to the jewelry store; Copley be damned,” Joe says, pushing himself away from the table to stand up. He holds out a hand and when Nicky stares at it for a second too long, he receives a very forceful flick to the forehead. “Stop doing that!” Joe says over Nicky’s startled “Ow!”

Nicky angrily rubs his forehead and glares up at his husband. “I can’t help it! You keep waving your bare hands in my face!” Nicky grumbles, but he does stand up and follow Joe to the door.

Four days. That’s how long he’s had to put up with Joe’s bare fingers. He should be a saint with how well he’s handled this situation. He grabs the car keys off the hook and opens the door.

“I have not!” Joe argues, snatching the car keys out of Nicky’s hands and walking out of the house.

Nicky sniffs. He didn’t want to drive anyways! “Have too!” Nicky says in a slightly louder voice, slamming the door shut. He does not stomp to the car; he is a grown man with legs that are having trouble waking up.

“Have—no. Nope. We’re not doing this.” Joe snaps and points to the car. “Get in the car, listen to some Britney Spears and don’t look at my fingers. I said don’t look at them!”

Nicky tears his eyes away from Joe’s bare finger and glares at his husband. What was he? A dog? He curls his hands into paws and in the flattest tone he can muster, says, “Woof.”

It’s totally worth the unimpressed look Joe shoots him over the car’s hood.

They listen to Toxic for the entire 15 minute ride. They’re still humming the chorus when they enter the jewelers and they only stop because it’s dead silent inside the store. It’s like a vacuum in there.

And Booker call us socially unaware, Nicky thinks, matching the owner’s smile. He doesn’t think he succeeds from the way the owner’s eyes flicker between him and Joe.

“Any particular style you two are looking for?” the owner asks.

“Simple platinum bands,” Joe answers, squeezing Nicky’s hand. It’s infuriating that the only thing Nicky can focus on, is the lack of metal pressing into his skin.

The owner motions them to a display case and begins to point out some of the rings that match their criteria.

None of them are right.

They’re too shiny. Too thin. They have gold.

Joe taps Nicky and points to a band that has a ring of diamonds embedded in the middle. It looks like it belongs on the hand of a gambler. “Right hand?” And on the hand of the most beautiful man in the world.

Nicky makes a noise he hopes sounds like agreement. Diamonds are interesting, considering—“You don’t like diamonds.”

Joe shrugs. “Maybe I don’t know people as well as I thought.” Nicky stares at Joe—who keeps his eyes firmly on the display case—and they need to talk. Not here and not now, obviously. But they need to talk about the giant French-shaped hole that’s only going to get bigger in the next century if left unattended.

The owner clears their throat and pulls out the ring Joe’s been looking at for awhile now. “We can add engravings to all of our rings.”

Joe takes the ring with a small smile, “Thank you, but we’ll most likely add engravings at a later date.” Nicky watches as he slowly spins the ring in a circle before sliding it to the second knuckle of his right ring-finger. “Not bad,” Joe says, tilting his hand side-to-side.

It’s…different. Nicky’s not used to having this much light glint off that finger, but it’s not bad. Might even be good. He can probably get used to it.

Joe smiles upon seeing the approval on Nicky’s face and slides the ring off. “We’ll take this in a size 10.”

Nicky chooses a much more sensible ring. It’s a relatively thick band with a hammered texture around the middle to match Joe’s. It looks good on Nicky’s left ring-finger and even better on Joe’s left index-finger.

“And this one in a size 12,” Joe tells the owner, holding Nicky’s ring. Joe shakes his head at Nicky, “12. You’ve got fat fingers.”

Fat?

Nicky squawks and pokes his husband in the side. “They’re not fat! You just have feminine fingers!”

“Feminine? These are the hands of an artist!” Joe exclaims, holding both of his hands up. There he goes again, waving his bare hands like a madman.

Nicky slaps them away before he can get distracted and nods, all faux-sincerity. “If you say so, habibi.”

“You two are going to last,” the owner interrupts with a laugh, contradicting their earlier impression and sets both rings down in front of them. Nicky trades a look with Joe. They have no idea. “See! You’re already wordlessly communicating!”

“We’ve had…practice,” Nicky says. The smile they both share only leaves the poor owner confused. That’s alright though, the rings more than make up for it.

—

Nicky can’t stop staring at Joe’s hands. More specifically, Nicky can’t stop staring at Joe’s ringed fingers. Every time he looks at them, he hears Britney Spears’ Toxic, sees the small rainbow on Joe’s skin as he held his hands up to the afternoon sun, feels the cold press of metal on both sides of his face as Joe kissed him outside the jewelers.

It’s warm and full of love and so goddamn perfect.

#the old guard #joe x nicky #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #kaysanova #hc #kind of on topic?#sorry dude #I can’t plan stuff

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anxiouslyfred · 3 years

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Janus Parents Who?

for @dukexietyweek‘s day 4 prompt ‘parents’

Summary: Remus and Virgil know they aren’t brothers, despite both thinking of Janus as their Dad. The argument over whose dad Janus actually is carries on through their childhoods, reconciling when Thomas accepts all his sides and eventually starting to Date. Janus just hopes there’s a final resolution to be found because the screaming is over dramatic.

Warnings: Caps Lock Screaming, arguments, spider mention,

/\/\

Janus had come out of his room some time after yelling had broken out. He knew from the start that raising and looking after Remus and Virgil would be a challenge, but had also realised within a few arguments of theirs that intervening at the beginning would only lengthen how long they might disagree for.

“Well now, you two seem to be perfectly at peace with each other. Whom shall I thank for the relaxing evening?” He got their attention in an instant, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“We aren't BROTHERS!” Remus screamed, flinging an arm towards Virgil in accusation. “You're MY DAD! Not HIS!”

“Janus was my Dad first. That means you're the adopted one!” Virgil hissed back, moving to tug on one of Janus's arms, eyes pleading for his side to be taken.

That was clearly the worst thing Janus could do. Taking either side would be bad, but letting Remus feel rejected so soon after losing his brother and the complete rejection of Thomas knowing him could quite possibly destroy what control he'd maintained.

“When did you two decide that you aren't brothers? So far as I was aware I have 2 children to look after and oh, look at this, there are 2 children living with me.” Janus played surprised, counting his fingers and then the other sides in the room. “We all know that no matter what my role is, mathematics doesn't lie.”

Today he would work soft words to calm the boys down, and try to figure out just why they no longer believed themselves to be brothers. Hopefully tomorrow he would know how to resolve the argument properly.

/jrv\

It had been a long time since Janus had seen that specific glare on Remus's face and despite the urgent summons from Patton that had brought him there, he was very tempted to just fetch something from the kitchen before going to hide.

“Janus is my Dad. You can't Have Him!” Remus growled out, and yep, the glare was for exactly the same reason it always had been. That sounded like Virgil had mentioned liking having him as a Dad once more so their old feud was beginning all over again.

“Dude, it was Roman who said Janus acts like my Dad and he's always been that to me anyway. You can't dictate who my Parent is.” Virgil had almost hit Roman in the gesture towards him while glaring at Remus.

Patton was already hurrying over, ever ready to try calming down any argument. “Come on kiddo's. Being a Dad to one person doesn't mean you can't be to someone else. I thought you liked each other now so why not try-”

“WE AREN'T BROTHERS!” Janus had yanked his hat down to cover his ears just in time to muffle the combined scream of Remus and Virgil. He'd still never got a good explanation over why that decision was made but had learnt a million times over not to question it.

“Yes, that's been blatantly obvious as long as I've know you both. You're as different as Roman and Remus, I'm sure.” Janus drawled, mostly just to get the attention away from Patton before he tried again to suggest they could be.

It was almost too predictable that both sides he'd raised immediately gestured to the other angrily. “Tell him I'm your son and he isn't!”

“Hang on, Remus is my brother. Should I be included in this argument or not?” Roman's question only caused more arguing between Virgil and Remus, things Janus had heard them say a million times.

Only after Logan had emerged wondering what all the noise was about did Janus realise the vehemence wasn't in the argument any more. It was almost like the pair were just arguing over who he was a parent to as a way to reconnect with each other. Perhaps he wouldn't ask Patton what to tell them about who he was a parent to; not just yet anyway.

/VJR\

Remus and Virgil starting to date should have settled the issue.

Seriously, Janus could not believe that they still wanted to know who he was a true parent to after all this time and was honestly convinced that no side was actually a parent to any other. It wouldn't make sense for there to be parental relationships among the sides, given they were all just parts of what made up Thomas Sanders.

One thing was clear though and that between Roman, Remus and Virgil there had been an agreement struck that they were the children of the family and all children must have parents. Perhaps it was something to do with how they used the imagination to create and resolve situations or something, but the trio were resolute. If only they could be equally resolute on who was their assigned parents.

“JANUS IS MY DAD! PRODIGAL SON IF YOUR GOING TO QUOTE THE FUCKING BIBLE AT ME!!” Virgil's scream broke through what had been a quiet afternoon as he stormed out of his room and down into the living room.

Remus was already giving chase though. “MINE! At least I stuck with him and listen to the rules he makes!”

“That doesn't make you his son, it makes you a fucking suck-up!”Virgil hissed back. “Besides families have arguments sometimes. Don't try to claim otherwise cause I've seen how you react to your dearest brother.”

As ever when Roman was mentioned in a vaguely complimentary way he spoke up, “Well how about that, I already have a Dad, so maybe Janus actually is Virgil's dad after all.”

Only a beat of silenced passed before Remus was screaming, wailing almost over being the rejected son, abandoned at birth, with Virgil wrapped around him and glaring for anybody to agree with Roman.

“No no no, Octospider, you weren't. You were always loved and I can't imagine anybody doing something like that. Janus must be your Dad, cause nobody could bare to lose a wonderful gremlin like you.” The crooning words made all the other sides, now all present after hearing the screams, freeze.

Patton had been moving forwards at Roman's reasoning to agree and make some dad jokes to try and finally settle the ongoing dispute, never thinking about what that would mean given the divide split the sides for most of Thomas's life. Now he could only hope Roman had some other idea that would calm them both down whenever the brother comment was actually questioned and glanced to Janus to check how he'd taken Virgil's change of heart.

Janus had already moved to join Virgil in holding Remus, “There we go Darling. I'm your Dad, and have always kept you with me. Nobody has been rejecting you here, just hoarding your madness all for myself. It was far to precious to even dream of sharing when you were younger.”

“B-b-b-But Patton Hates me and he's Roman's Dad, how – how can I be yours when my brother is his?” Remus managed to ask, burying himself in Virgil's hoodie after asking the question. It looked like there could be tentacles as well as arms tying Remus to his boyfriend as he continued to wail.

“Must have been a really messy break up, I guess. We're like Parent Swap twins. Janus and Patton had such a big falling out they each took one of us and vowed to never see each other again.” Roman mused, nodding encouragingly at the questioning glances he got from the 3 other sides still standing.

Virgil's arms tightened then, his eyeshadow lengthening on his face, even as he kept up soothing strokes over Remus's back. “So I was the abandoned child then?”

“We are all the same age, Virgil. I don't think any of us even have parents, let alone understand all this drama for seeking them out.” Logan began, only to be cut of by a small cheer Roman made.

“Adopted out, I believe. After all our teacher was far too focused on making Thomas learn all the things and discover even more for much of our youth, but as soon as you started becoming known to Thomas was more than ready to help you through your worries.” Roman had moved over to Logan's side while speaking, listing out his reasoning excitedly. “Therefore we must believe that Logan is your Dad, Dearest Nightmare, but found himself unable to care for you and help Thomas with learning everything a young mind can so asked if Janus might raise you instead.”

Remus peeked out of the hoodie now, glancing suspiciously from Logan to Virgil's face. “I copied my eyeshadow from you. You just started getting it some mornings. Was that cause you couldn't try to steal Logan's glasses? I can make you some now if you like?” He offered.

“No need. Though I guess we need to find some other random thing to argue over now. Who's the better kisser perhaps?” Virgil offered, snickering at the confused glances they were now being shot.

Remus just pulled him down into a kiss before darting away. “I already won that one. What other suggestions do you have?”

Virgil watched him leave getting to his feet after a moment. “Thanks for the solution Roman, but seriously, if you ever upset Remus by making him feel abandoned again all the spiders in the house will find their way to your room, possibly including the ones from the imagination too.” With those parting words he hurried to follow Remus.

“Young love?” Patton asked, somewhere between thinking the scene was adorable and wondering what on earth just happened. Janus could only nod, feeling exactly the same over the two sides he had raised.

At least there was some story over how they weren't brothers now.

#dukexiety #dukexietyweek2021 #remus sanders #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #parent confusion #caps lock screaming #roman sanders #dad janus #patton sanders #creativitwins #logan sanders

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messymonologues · 2 years

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 & 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐃𝐇𝐃 ✿❁✾❀

—

the basics (name, age, etc.):

-> maggie; 19; she/her; february pisces. raised in the american south but currently attending college in new jersey; pursuing a degree in diplomacy + international relations, on track for a 5 yr masters :)

-> i am christian and therefore have a very strong tie to my religion/ faith. i will not shame anyone for having different beliefs and have no desire to pressure anybody with my own religious beliefs in any way; however, you may see these beliefs reflected in some of the posts i make on this blog. my dedication to my faith has made a huge impact on how i have handled having adhd throughout my life, and it has helped me to personally cope over the years in much more healthy ways than if i had not had the stability & security of these core beliefs. that being said, read on for more facts about me & adhd!

some infodumping w/ more fun facts about me:

-> i’m a freshman in college and mentioned my major above, but i’m also hoping to go for a minor in east asian studies. i’m american so english is 1st but in total i speak 4 languages: english, fluent spanish, conversationally fluent korean, and basic japanese; i’m planning to learn mandarin chinese soon too :)

-> my mbti type is enfp (“campaigner”) !!

-> my favorite color is mint green & i love winter ❄️

-> unlike a lot of adhd-ers, i actually suck at art lol; however i write fiction on the side every now & then.

-> i love to travel and have visited 5 countries so far!

-> i don’t plan on putting any pics of myself on here but for curiosity purposes, i’m pale, short, + brunette.

-> that’s enough info dumping for now hehe but feel free to send more questions to my inbox <3 <3 <3

*all about my experience with adhd: (below the cut)*

my official adhd diagnosis:

-> i was diagnosed by an adhd specialist at around 6 years old with combined-type adhd (meaning i showed a combination of having both inattentive and hyperactive types present on my chart), and quite honestly i was told that my adhd levels were highly active and more elevated than a good amount of others with the same diagnosis. so basically, my adhd is fairly severe without being totally crippling. (in case you’re wondering how i treat my adhd: i tried various treatment options throughout elementary school and found that taking a prescription medication for it was the solution that helped me function the most; the dosage of the pill has fluctuated as needed over the years but i still take it every day as it does exactly what it should do inside my brain and makes my life a bit easier. however, i want to put in a disclaimer here to make it known that medication is not the only answer + doesn’t work for everyone the same way.) also, my adhd is genetic on my dad’s side!!

my most prominent symptoms & how my adhd typically presents itself:

-> my most common visible symptom is tics (aka fidgeting in ways that mimic a psych phenomenon called stimming, which describes physical motions that seem random but inexplicably provide release of stress from symptoms for neurodivergent ppl: i.e cracking knuckles, picking at nails or skin, playing with hair, etc.) but the rest of them are internal.

-> my other most common symptoms include: executive dysfunction, emotional dysregulation, rsd (rejection-sensitive dysphoria), decision paralysis, time blindness, object impermanence (“out of sight out of mind” except about pretty much everything not just material things), hyperfixation as well as hyperactivity, distractability, sensory sensitivity issues (specifically i just have an aversion to sudden loud noises like fireworks), and there’s no medical term for it but lastly, burnout/fatigue both physically and mentally.

nobody asked for this but anyways,, here’s some stuff that has helped me cope over the years:

-> reading books was my own personal escape mechanism as a kid. i’d get lost in a book whenever i felt like i was being too much, and then get so absorbed in reading that i’d tune out the world. it was very soothing for my hyperactivity and helped me establish a healthy outlet for my creative energy.

-> i’m not sure if all adhd-ers have this issue, but for me, caffeine has absolutely no effect on me. i can drink a monster/ red bull at bedtime and still get a full night of sleep; also, it doesn’t help me wake up in the mornings either. i cope with this by substituting the caffeine cravings with tea- all kinds- and tbh, tea has a whole lot of benefits that coffee does not! :)

-> you may have noticed that i didn’t include “impulsivity” as one of my symptoms above. this is because i learned at a young age how to curb my impulsiveness through playing a sport (which is one of the top recommendations for adhd-ers actually!), and i played volleyball for many many years. sports helped me control my impulsivity by giving me a place to exert all my quick bursts of energy and also taught me various kinds of self-discipline. it helps!!

-> adhd often (but not always) comes with the challenge of having an addictive personality due to the urge to access dopamine through means that aren’t always healthy, i.e substance abuse or repetitive bad habits. what worked well for me was to combat this dilemma by putting more time into hobbies and habits that make me feel in control of my energy whenever i find myself becoming addicted to or obsessed with a bad habit. this manifested over the years in the forms of: releasing pent-up energy by joining club sports, picking up a new book series to distract myself from the urge to cope with adhd in less healthy ways, writing as much as i want to & about whatever i want to in order to shift my focus from addictive coping habits to creative habits, and surrounding myself with friends whom i feel safe sharing my thoughts and emotions with (although they don’t always understand, they still lend me an ear & it really does help). of course, practicing mindfulness has also decreased how easily i get tangled up in a bad or addictive habit, since reflecting on those habits takes away the desire to obsess over them in a destructive manner.

-> it took me a very long time to realize that my intense emotions were not my fault and that what i was feeling was sometimes all due to rsd- i didn’t figure out how to handle them until late into my high school years. now that i know that my emotions are much deeper than those of the ppl around me, i’m learning to cope in much healthier ways instead of self-destructing/ shaming myself for my reactions. these coping skills include: distracting myself from situations where my emotion or reaction is caused only by rsd and not by an external factor by focusing my energy in a creative way that soothes the pain; using poetry or writing letters to myself to better process the emotions i am feeling and reflect on them in an observational- not judgmental- way; allowing myself to feel whatever i feel in the moment without letting myself be ashamed of the emotions or viewing them negatively; and (if my emotions are caused by another person) having an open-minded and honest conversation with whoever i feel has caused these emotions, where i gently express to them how i perceived whatever happened and inform them of the consequential emotions i reacted towards them with- this includes both good emotions and negative ones, as i am often overwhelmed by either of them. i still struggle with regulating them, so check out my navigation tag for rsd on my homepage for more!!

-> feel free to use any of these skills if you find that they help you overcome your own adhd roadblocks!

— back to navi

#🖇 about me #adhd and me #life with adhd #actually adhd #adhd awareness #adult adhd #adhd tumblr #adhd blog #adhd #learn about me #about the admin #adhder #adhd tag #living with adhd

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gimme-my-mammoney · 4 years

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Just found your blog and I immediately like it! XD Can you make an imagine/headcanon about the demon brothers having a curse where if they love MC, MC will die? So like, they have to hate MC in order to keep them alive :0 (and ofc they can't tell MC about it) Can be an angst or not, it's up to you!

Aw, bless you! Thank you! I’ll certainly give it a try for you. I’m a little short for time at the minute, so this one will have to be short and (not so) sweet. I won’t lie, I struggled with this one, it just wouldn’t come to me. Hopefully, it doesn’t completely suck! xo

The Brother’s are cursed and can’t love MC or they’ll die.

The Devildom isn’t short of its enemies and neither were the brothers. Usually, witches would cast curses that were breakable (and usually Mammon’s fault) but this witch was different. She knew that if she wanted to hurt the brothers, she’d have to take away their most beloved human; you.

Lucifer ~

Will instantly assume it’s Mammon’s fault.

Goes straight to Diavolo to find a solution. He doesn’t care if he has to beg Dio for help. Devastated when finds out that the curse is too complicated to be broken immediately.

Tries to lock himself in his room to avoid seeing you. Pours himself into books trying to search for a cure.

Whenever he does bump into you, he’s cold and strict. It kills him to see the pain in your eyes but he’d rather you be alive and away from him than risk putting you in any danger.

Tries to convince himself that you’re just a weak human and not worth his time. He will go through everything you’ve done to make his life difficult.

He will eventually swallow his pride (I know) and ask Satan for help in his research. He’ll force every witch he can find from the human realm to help him if he has too.

RIP to the witch who cursed him.

Mammon ~

Devastated it’s probably a witch he’s annoyed.

Will try and bargain for a worse curse that won’t hurt you.

Will accept his punishment as long as Lucifer helps him break the curse.

He’ll be mean to you whenever you’re together. He’ll tell you that you’re clingy and annoying and might even shove you away. You won’t understand what you’ve done and you’ll start avoiding him completely.

It’ll kill him to see you hanging out with his brothers over him. He’ll even accept the mistreatment from them all for treating you so badly.

Just misses his partner in crime.

Will kill the witch once the curse is broken. He’s an idiot but he’s still a powerful demon.

Leviathan ~

Locks himself in his room to process all of this.

Decides to ignore you completely. You may as well be invisible.

deals with the whole thing like it’s a video game and the witch is the final boss.

Gets advice from forums and chat boards.

Convinces himself you’re just a stupid normie. Reminds himself of the time you beat him in a TSL quiz to make sure he stays mad at you.

Satan ~

Flies into a rage so extreme that it terrifies you. Makes it easier for him to hate you when you’re too scared to be around him.

Had to explain the situation to Lucifer seeing as he trashed the house.

Pours over his books looking for a way to break. Gets obsessive to the point Lucifer tries to get you to help coax him out of his room.

Screams that he hates you right in your face to get you to leave him alone.

Reverts back to his angry self.

Nobody dares be around him in case he has another temper tantrum.

Asmodeus ~

Devastated he can’t dress you up.

Convinces himself that you’re not beautiful enough to be around him.

Sobs at night, he doesn’t care if it ruins his eyeliner.

Takes every opportunity to drag you down so that you hate him. It makes it easier for him to hate you in return.

Genuinely doesn’ t know how to deal with his emotions, wasn’t expecting to care about you so much. Starts to associate that confusion with you which also makes it easier to hate you.

As soon as the curse is broken you’re getting the biggest hug (and a shopping spree - it’s all on him too).

Beelzebub ~

Too soft and sweet to deal with this. Definitely cries in his room.

Can’t bring himself to actually be mean to you so decides that intimidation is the best way.

Towers over you and glares down at you. Suddenly goes from teddy bear to grizzly bear.

Tricks you into eating his food so that he can be mad at you.

Still longs to be close to you again.

As soon as the curse is broken you’re getting a bear hug so tight that your eyes will pop out.

Belphegor ~

Has literally killed you before, so this should be easy.

Generally treats you awfully whenever you’re together.

Gets depressed about it whenever he’s about to fall asleep.

Secretly heartbroken.

Misses his nap buddy.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! leviathan #obey me! satan #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! belphegor #obey me! ask #obey me! request #obey me! imagines

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mcjoelcain · 3 years

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How to set SMART Goals (and win BIG this year)

Let’s be honest: people suck at goal setting.

Even when we really want to do something, we have a hard time achieving it.

(Need proof? Just consider that the vast majority of New Year’s resolutions fail by February.)

But, it’s not our fault. Nobody teaches us how to really achieve what we set out to do. They don’t teach us how to make smart objectives.

That’s because the problem with how you set goals is that they rely too much on human willpower — which we have a very finite amount of each day. Relying on it all the time takes away from that willpower until it’s depleted entirely.

Fortunately, there are other ways to set goals so that you can actually achieve them.

Bonus: Want to know how to make as much money as you want and live life on your terms? Download my FREE Ultimate Guide to Making Money

Examples of turning bad goals to good goals

EXAMPLE #1: HEALTH

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I want to get fit.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to lose 10lbs.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to eat 3 healthy meals per week and go to the gym 2x/week for 15 minutes.”

Notice how we’re focusing on the process at first, and starting off conservative: Anyone can eat just 3 healthy meals in a week. And anyone can go to the gym for 15 minutes. Set yourself up to win.

The next step is to make it easy: on your calendar, set 1 hour on Sundays to buy 3 healthy meals and leave them in your fridge, packed and ready to eat. Also set two 1-hour slots for the gym (leaving time for travel).

Here’s how this looks for other big goals:

EXAMPLE #2: FINANCES

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I need to get better with money.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to save $1,000 this year.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to have $40 per paycheck automatically transferred to my vacation savings fund for 1 year.”

EXAMPLE #3: SOCIAL SKILLS

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I want to have better social skills.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to work on my storytelling so I’m not so awkward at parties.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to take the improv class in my city every Monday night for 6 weeks.”

There’s a simple formula for transforming big goals into actionable steps…

Bonus: Want to finally start getting paid what you’re worth? I show you exactly how in my Ultimate Guide to Getting a Raise and Boosting Your Salary

What are SMART goals?

SMART goals are the cure for vague, aimless New Year’s resolution goals like:

“I want to go to the gym every day.”

“I want to get rich.”

“I want to travel more.”

On the surface, they all seem like good goals. However, they fall prey to the big three sins of goal-setting:

They unspecific. Sure, you “want to travel more,” but what does that really mean? When are you going to get it done? Where are you going to go? Vagueness is the enemy of good goal-setting.

They’re unrealistic. Oh, so you want to “get rich” this year? Are you willing to put in the hard work and sweat equity it’ll take to negotiate a raise, find a higher-paying job, or start a side hustle? Most likely not.

They’re based on willpower — not systems. Human willpower is limited. Sure, you might start out going to the gym every day, but as time goes on you’ll have to use the finite amount of willpower you have to keep it up. Eventually, you abandon the goal altogether.

Setting a SMART goal will help you avoid all of these pitfalls. Let’s breakdown how to do it.

SMART Objectives are:

Specific

Measurable

Attainable

Relevant

Time-oriented

So how do you convert a goal like “get fit” into a SMART objective?

I created this checklist to use every time you have a new goal.

Checklist for writing a SMART Objective

Specific: What is the precise outcome I’m looking for?

What will you achieve?

What does it look like? (What do you see in your mind when you picture yourself working towards your goal?)

What is the action step?

Measurable: How will I know I’ve accomplished the goal?

How will you know if you’ve reached your goal or not? There are different levels of “healthy” or “financially sound.” Avoid words that may have vague meanings like, “learn” or “feel” since you can’t measure them. Instead, use action verbs like “run,” “save,” or “write.” Then, turn those words into quantifiable benchmarks.

You need to be able to answer the question, “Did I get it done? If not, how much further do I have to go?”

How will you know when it is done?

What are some objective benchmarks you can hit along the way?

Would someone else be able to tell that it’s complete?

Is it quantifiable?

Attainable: How realistic is this goal?

My mentor BJ Fogg talks a lot about Tiny Habits — little things that start us on the path to success. The best way to achieve a goal is not to rely on motivation, but instead make it ridiculously easy for your future self to do the right thing. Instead of committing to running 5 days a week, start with one day and move up from there.

Are there available resources to achieve the objective?

Do you need a gym membership, a new bank account, new clothes?

Am I set up to do this even when I don’t have “motivation”?

Are there any time or money constraints that need to be considered? Am I being too ambitious to start out? (Remember you can always be more aggressive with your goal later on.)

Relevant: Is this a priority in my life right now?

Ask yourself, in the scheme of all the things you want to try, do you really care about this? When I went to my cousin’s wedding in India a few years ago, I saw one of my friends order his food in fluent Hindi, and I thought, “Hmmmm…I should take Hindi lessons.” But when I got back to NYC, I put it on my to-do list, only to skip over it for MONTHS. The truth is, I really didn’t care enough to try and learn Hindi. It wasn’t important enough. When I acknowledged I wasn’t going to do it and crossed it off my list, it freed me up to focus on doing the things that I really wanted to do.

Why am I doing this?

Is this a priority for me?

Will it compete with other goals in my life?

Time-oriented: When will I be finished with the goal?

Give yourself a deadline to reassess your goal. And put it on the calendar! I like to re-evaluate my goals every 3-months to make sure they are still Attainable and Relevant.

Is there a deadline?

Did I put it on the calendar?

Will I know in 3 months if I’m on the right track?

Bonus: Want to fire your boss and start your dream business? Download my FREE Ultimate Guide to Business.

SMART Goal Examples

Using this framework, you’ll be able to turn any vague lofty goal into an actionable SMART goal.

For instance:

Bad goal: “I want to be healthier.”

Why it’s bad: It’s vague and not measurable. How do you know when you’re healthier?

SMART goal: “I want to eat three low-fat, low-calorie meals per week and go to the gym at least once a week.”

Why it’s good: Now you have an actionable system with solid metrics to help you see if you’re on track. You’re not just getting healthier. You’re eating three healthy meals and going to the gym each week.

Now do the same for your goal. How can you make it specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-oriented?

Actually achieve your goals with habit loops

Once you’ve set a SMART goal, habits are the systematized solution to making sure you follow through and actually achieve your goal.

According to Charles Duhigg, habit expert and author of The Power of Habit, every habit you build has three parts to it:

Cue. This is the trigger for a behavior.

Routine. This is the behavior in action.

Reward. This is the benefit you receive from the behavior.

Altogether, this creates something called a “Habit Loop,” which allows your habits to stick.

And at the heart of any good Habit Loop is a good reward. In fact, it might just be the most important aspect of building good habits.

That’s because it has the biggest impact on whether or not we stick with the behavior.

Let’s take a look at an example: Working out.

A typical approach to this might look like this:

You go to the gym.

You work out on the machines for 30 minutes.

You go home.

Here’s what it would look like if you implemented the Habit Loop:

Cue. You head to the gym when you wake up.

Routine. You work out at the gym.

Reward. You get a delicious breakfast when you’re done.

See the difference? One will likely result in you giving up the habit after a few weeks (or even days), while the other greatly boosts your chances because you’re rewarded for your behavior.

It subverts having to rely on willpower, because you reward yourself for achieving your goals.

THAT’S the power of a good reward.

Of course, it can work negatively for you as well. For example, smoking cigarettes.

A habitual, pack-a-day smoker is someone who has ingrained a Habit Loop that causes them to smoke cigarettes. Here’s what that Loop looks like:

Cue. You wake up, or it’s lunch time, or work just got done, or you’re stressed — most anything can be a cue for smokers.

Routine. You smoke a cigarette.

Reward. You receive a euphoric buzz from nicotine.

Luckily, rewards can be used to counteract this. For example, whenever you get the urge to smoke a cigarette you go on a walk, or listen to music, or drink a soda. Whatever healthy reward can be used to replace your routine of smoking a cigarette.

Bonus Tip: Use a Commitment Device

A commitment device is a method of locking yourself into a habit or behavior that you might otherwise not want to do.

And there are essentially two types of commitment devices:

Positive devices. These are devices that give you a positive reward for performing different tasks. The idea is that when you associate that task with the commitment device, you create a positive feedback loop that makes it much easier to cement new habits.

For example:

Listening to your favorite podcast while you work out.

Watching a show on Netflix while you clean your living room.

Drinking your favorite soda while you’re washing your dishes.

Negative devices. These are devices where you take something away or risk having something taken away to encourage you to follow through with a behavior or habit. The idea is that you force yourself to focus on the task by taking away the thing that is preventing you from focusing, or you do something that makes you risk losing something to force you to complete your task.

For example:

Telling a friend that you’ll give them $100 if you don’t go to the gym every day for a month.

Unplugging your television so you won’t be tempted to watch it.

Throwing away all of your junk food in order to eat healthily.

While they’re called positive or negative devices, that doesn’t mean that one is better than the other! They’re just ways of describing how the commitment devices work. And whether or not you choose a positive or negative device depends entirely on your preference and what you want to achieve.

Commitment devices are incredibly effective too. But you don’t have to take my word for it. Harvard released an article a while back penned by three doctors in behavioral economics that extolled the virtues of commitment devices.

“[Commitment devices] have been shown to help people lose weight, improve their diets, exercise more, and quit smoking,” the article says. “One randomized experiment, for example, found that access to a commitment device increased the rate at which smokers succeeded in quitting after six months by 40%.”

One effective commitment device is to use a social media scheduling dashboard like Hootsuite or Buffer to schedule an embarrassing tweet or Facebook status to be posted at a certain hour. This commitment device is good for time- or location-based goals. As long as you get to the dashboard before it posts, you can prevent it from posting.

For example, say you want to get into the habit of waking up at 6am. You could schedule a tweet to be sent out with an embarrassing message or photo of yourself at exactly 6:05am. That way, if you’re not up by 6, that message will post.

Build habits for life

To accomplish any goal, you need to establish good habits.

To help you crush any goal you set out for yourself, we want to offer you something we’ve worked on to get you there:The Ultimate Guide to Habits: Peak Performance Made Easy

In it, you’ll learn the actionable steps to crush any goal through smart habits, including:

How to set goals — the RIGHT way

How to create and implement winning keystone habits

How to make any habit last forever

Just enter your name and email below and I’ll send it straight to your inbox.

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How to set SMART Goals (and win BIG this year) is a post from: I Will Teach You To Be Rich.

from Money https://www.iwillteachyoutoberich.com/blog/smart-objectives/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

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cromulentbookreview · 3 years

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I See What You Did There

What’s two plus two?

Huh? What? What’s happening?

What’s two plus two?

Oh, shit, right, I have a book review blog, don’t I? I mean, things have been a bit hectic these past few months and I’m also trying to be a real writer...

What’s two plus two?

Yeah, you’re right, I shouldn’t neglect my tumblr, even if nobody reads it. And come on, computer, it’s not like I’ve been in a coma for four years, two plus two is clearly five and we all love Big Brother, OK? Gah.

Uhhh...And by that, I mean: Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir!

Dr. Ryland Grace wakes up in a spaceship with no memory of how or why he’s there. He’s a junior high school science teacher, what the hell is he doing on a spaceship? Also, the other two astronauts are dead. Like, really dead. So far as how things are going for Dr. Grace right now, I’ll let Pete Campbell give you a hint:

Slowly, veeeery slowly, Grace’s memory starts to come back to him: he’s on a mission to save the Earth. There’s this nasty space bacteria-thingy called Astrophage that’s dimming the light of Mr. Burns’s archnemesis: the Sun.

There’s a lot of science involved, but Weir explains, in great detail, just how Astrophage dims the Sun and why that’s really, really, really, really bad for the Earth. Like, apocalyptic-bad. Billions will die bad. Famine, disease, war, rocks fall, everyone dies and freezes to death bad. Only not right away. Over the course of several years. So everyone will die, but they’ll get to do it real slowly.

Yay?

Like so, but it ends with everybody dead and the Earth being rendered uninhabitable. All of Grace’s wee little students will grow up watching their Earth slowly die. Unless Project Hail Mary finds a solution. And there seems to be a solution out there - Tau Ceti seems to be the only star not infected with Astrophage. Why? How? What? So this all powerful woman called Stratt, who has been given authority by just about everyone (how? Reasons. Don’t ask questions) yanks Grace out of his classroom - first to study Astrophage, and then, somehow, he can’t remember exactly, roped him into going on a dozen-light-year journey to Tau Ceti with the crew of the Hail Mary.

Only the rest of the crew is dead. Something went wrong while they were in a coma during their four-year space voyage. Grace is alone.

Inside the Hail Mary.

Full of a dude called Grace.

I see what you did there, Weir. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there. I mean, you don’t even have to be Catholic to see what you did there.

Anyway, long-winded flashbacks and lots of science ensues. I struggled with the first quarter of the book - not for any particular reason other than I started reading this book in the latter half of 2020 and I was having a hell of a time concentrating on...well, everything. Remember 2020? Yeah, it wasn’t great. I mean, I’d need a lot of “not great, Bob!” gifs to describe just how bad those last few months of 2020 were.

And then I thought 2021 would be better. Ahahaha we barely made it six days. Seriously, everything is terrible and how do I even concentrate on a dumb book blog let alone a book all about science and the Earth slowly dying because the sun is dimming and -

Soon enough, however, Grace spots something on the Hail Mary’s radar. It’s...another spaceship? All the way out by Tau Ceti? At first, Grace thinks maybe its another ship from Earth, like a backup plan, that’d make sense, right? Only it’s not.

Who could it be?

Aliens?

Yeah, it’s aliens.

Our friend Grace gets to be the dude to make first contact with the sentient, spider-like creatures of the first planet in the system 40 Eridani. Turns out 40 Eridani is also infected with Astrophage, which is causing all sorts of problems for the Eridians, and their ship just happened to be around Tau Ceti at the exact same time as the Hail Mary. Crazy, right? Anyway, after the initial first contact and the long, drawn-out process of learning to communicate with one another (with no help from Amy Adams or Jeremy Renner), Grace and the lone Eridian, whom Grace christens Rocky, team up to save their respective worlds.

Science and plenty of flashbacks ensue.

I’m not a scientist - well, I have a master’s degree in library and information science, which, I guess, is a science? I mean, uh...I could tell you where all the sciency books are in the library. 500s if you’re using Dewey, and if you’re using Library of Congress, it will depend on what you’re looking for - you’ll want to start with Q for general sciences, QA for math books, QB and QC for astronomy and physics, QE, GC, GB, QC, TN for earth sciences, QD, TN, TP, and TR for chemical sciences, GE and bits of GF, QE, QH, QC, and TD for environmental sciences, QH, QK, QL, QM, QP, and QR for life sciences, QA75-76.9, TK5101-TK6720, TK7800-TK7895, and Q334-Q390 for computer sciences, telecommunication and artificial intelligence, Q, R, S, and T for the history of sciences and if you’re looking for bibliographies and finding aids for topics in the sciences, look under Z.

You know. Science.

OK, so I may not be a scientist. I may be bad at math because numbers somehow magically switch themselves around on paper whenever I look at them. Why? Because my brain sucks, that’s why. I may have spent most of my chemistry classes reading YA books under my desk (worth it!). I may have only passed high school physics by cheating off a girl younger than I was, but hey, the joke was on me: my high school physics teacher wasn’t even qualified to teach physics.

Gotta love rural public schools.

My point is, while the science may be lost on me and my brain which is full mostly of Simpsons quotes rather than actual knowledge, I do loves me a fun story where Science (with a capital S) saves the day. And, make no mistake, this book is fun. You might get a bit bogged down by the science, but once you get past it, this is a highly enjoyable story of one dangerously unqualified guy desperately trying to save the world with his new BFF, alien spider guy who speaks in musical notes. It’s up to them and them alone. Good luck, guys! Don’t forget that billions upon billions of lives depend on you. No pressure.

Seriously, if you loved The Martian, you’ll love Project Hail Mary. They’re similar, but Hail Mary is on a much larger scale than The Martian - there’s a lot more at stake in the hands of one guy. Plus: aliens!

Without spoiling anything, I’ll just say I would have loved more from the ending. I would’ve loved an epilogue from some of the other character’s perspectives or something. I mean, I could even go with a sequel! Maybe something where Erid and Earth are finally able to communicate? There’s a lot of potential for short stories or novellas set in the same world as Project Hail Mary - there’s got to be bonus material there and I want it. More, please? That’d be nice. I’d definitely read it. So... Hop to it, Weir!

One last complaint: Grace doesn’t swear. Like, at all. Meanwhile, Mark Watney is over here like

Come on, Grace, would it kill you to say “fuck” or “shit” every now and again? I mean, I sipped coffee that was too hot and let out a bunch of words that’d make a 19th century whaler blush. Geez.

RECOMMENDED FOR: Fans of The Martian, science-y people, people who enjoy a heavy dose of science in their sci-fi, people who just want a fun story

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: People with no mind for science, people who are against fun, anyone who doesn’t like sci-fi, aliens, fun, etc.

RATING: 4/5

ALIEN RATING:

RELEASE DATE: May 4, 2021 (HEY! Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there, too, Ballantine Books!)

ANTICIPATION LEVEL FOR SPINOFFS / SEQUELS / BONUS MATERIAL OF ANY KIND: Olympus Mons.

DID I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE?

#project hail mary #andy weir #fiction #book review #science fiction #hard science fiction #sff #sci-fi #tau ceti #rocky #adrian #hail mary #ryland grace #apocalyptic fiction #first contact #aliens #global dimming #astrophage

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leahxx129 · 4 years

Text

Feels Like Home: Vengeance (pt.4) (Hvitserk x Reader)

Final part comes next week (probably sometime during the weekend). I am having difficulties writing it, but hopefully it won’t suck. Anyways, please enjoy this chapter! :)

Summary for pt.4: After the knockout you wake up in a seemingly foreign place but as your memories start flooding back, fury takes over you and you can’t resist the urge to seek vengeance any longer.

Warnings: cursing, graphic description of multiple homicides

Word count: 1.512-ish

Read PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3.

You wake up to the scent of wildflowers and when you open your eyes, you realize you are in a meadow and Hvitserk is laying on top of you. His smile is beaming brighter than a thousand suns and you feel yourself falling in love with him all over again.

Is this a dream? Or a memory? You think it’s both.

“You have never looked more beautiful than now, min elskede!” he whispers, completely enthralled by you.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Haven’t your father taught you that it is not decent to lie, my Prince?”

“He has and it is not a lie! You truly look mesmerizing! Are you questioning my honesty?”

Not waiting for the reply, he leans in and starts biting down your neck playfully, making you giggle in the process.

“Stop, please! Stop! I cannot breathe!” you muster in-between giggles and a couple of bites later he leans away.

“You have my heart, Hvitserk Ragnarsson! Promise you will take good care of it?”

He places a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I promise!”

“Good!” you reply and slowly start unbuttoning the top of your dress.

His eyes follow your movement hungrily.

You feel a hand shaking you.

“Nat? Nat! Wake up!” somebody whisper-shouts.

Hvitserk’s beautiful orbs stare into yours when your eyes finally flutter open. Concern distorts his handsome face.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, this pounding in my head is killing me, but other than that, yes, I am fine!” you answer, wanting to ease the new-come pain by pressing your palm against your temple, but the shackles on your wrists prevent you from doing so. “Where are we?”

“Besides the obvious answer that in a cell? I wish I knew.”

“Great!” you let out a frustrated sigh and begin taking a better look at your surroundings.

“Gods!” you utter unconsciously a minute later as you recognize the numerous small streaks carved into one corner of the cell.

“What is it?”

Ignoring the inquiry, you crawl there on all fours and trace the lines with your fingertips. You remember engraving them many-many years ago. Even some of your blood is still there... The king put you here to make you relive the memories that often haunted your dreams even nowadays…

“That fucking bastard!” you scream and smack your palm against the wall.

“Nat! I adore you but I will not ask again kindly – what is it?” Hvitserk warns with a hint of impatience in his tone.

You slowly rotate your head to his direction, trying your best to hold back tears.

“I know where we are. We’re in the castle’s prison tower.”

“How do you know this?”

“I told you I would answer every question once this is over, love.”

“Well, I am not so sure we will live long enough to see the end of it. The king is probably trying to set up a deal with Ivar and I know my brother… if the trade is our life in exchange for peace, he will not choose peace.”

You crawl to him and take his hands into yours.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life!”

“Then believe when I say we will make it out alive, okay?”

He looks at you dead-serious but nods eventually. You squeeze his hands in reassurance.

“Now… do you know how may guards there are?”

“Two, I think.”

“Perfect!” you exclaim, then continue to map the plan “We will lure them into the cell then disarm them and take our leave!”

“And how exactly do you wish to do that?”

Instead of a verbal reply, you throw yourself to the ground and start shaking uncontrollably. A second later Hvitserk catches on and begins to yell in their language at the top of his lungs.

“Guards! Guards, come! The lady is ill, she may be dying! Guaaaaards!”

It’s not long before two men appear in front of the cell’s door.

“Oh, Lord! What is wrong with her?!” one questions with a heavy accent.

“Does it matter? King Willelmus commanded us to keep her alive regardless of anything and I do not wish to find out what happens if we fail to do so…” his partner answers him.

“Then come in and help her!” Hvitserk bellows at them and they flinch.

You hear keys turning and the cell door slowly opens up with a creaking sound. You sneak a glance at what’s happening and see a tall, helmetless man approach you. Alright. Here goes everything.

You stop shaking when he crouches down next to you, and in a blink of an eye, you hook your legs around his neck, cutting off his airways by pressing your thighs together as much as you can. Hvitserk almost simultaneously jumps up from his sitting position and headbutts the other guard unconscious.

The man in your stranglehold is gasping for air desperately and though you feel him getting weaker, you do not have the time to wait it out. You turn your hip in a swift motion and a loud crack echoes through the cell. In the meantime, he stops wiggling.

Hvitserk takes the keys from the guard he knocked out and frees both of you.

“Alright! Now take the other weapon and follow me!” you order as you pick up a sword, but he is not moving. “Is something wrong, my love?”

“No, nothing. It’s just that man is one lucky bastard.” he replies, staring at the corpse entranced.

You shoot him a puzzled expression, making him continue his train of thought.

“He died with a woman’s thighs around his neck. When my day comes, I wish to go the very same way.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“That day will be here sooner than you think if you don’t move, Hvit! Now, come! I know where the king is. All of this will be over if we kill him! Nobody will continue fighting for a dead leader whereas on the other hand, everybody will start fighting to take his place on the throne.”

You enter the castle’s tiny chapel silently and struggle to suppress a smile – King Willelmus is here alone, just as you anticipated. You press your index finger to your lips signing Hvitserk to stay still and quiet in the shadows. Every fiber in his body wants to protest, but the mad fire in your eyes convinces him and he nods in agreement. You approach the praying king soundlessly.

“Greetings Will!” you shout jovially in his language, making the man jump to his feet and turn around.

He was not a young man when you met him, and based on the wrinkles and grey hair, time did not serve him well since then.

“Nat… How did you find me? What is happening?” he stutters incredulously, dismay growing in his eyes.

“Well, you always were a coward, Will. You would hide here whenever your army fought your battles. I figured this time is not any different and I was right.”

You take a couple of steps closer to him, dragging the tip of your sword along the chapel benches, and he takes just as many away from you.

“And as for what’s happening… I don’t understand why you appear so surprised. I promised you I would be back and that I would personally drag your soul to the place you call ‘hell’, didn’t I?”

He starts receding but the space soon disappears, and his back is pressed flat against a statue.

“Whatever you plan to do, Nat, don’t! I am sure we can sit down like civilized people and discuss our differences…”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Will. At least not anymore… Besides, if my assessment skills are not failing me, I think I have the upper hand over here.“ you take a meaningful look at your weapon then at his empty hands. “So please keep your ridiculous suggestions to yourself.”

There’s a second of silence and you know he’s evaluating the situation, trying to find the best tactic to boost his chances at survival.

“I am sorry for everything I have ever done to you! Alright? I have realized the error of my ways and I truly apologize! This is what you wanted, is it not?”

Your lips curl into a cruel smile.

“Not quite. It’s a little too late for apologies, old man. Now kneel!” you scream the last part and he obeys reluctantly.

You push the sword’s blade against his throat and descend in front of him to be face to face.

“Do you remember what I told you I would do to you upon my return? Answer!”

“You said you would perform a blood eagle!” he whispers with a trembling voice.

“Yes, exactly. But there is no time for that now, unfortunately, so I’m settling on a quicker solution.” you caress his face with your free hand. “Helheim or hell… it doesn’t matter how you call it, in the end, it is all the same… Pass my kisses to father when you meet him there, would you?”

With a rapid movement you slash his throat open.

Read PART 5 (final part) HERE.

#Hvitserk #hvitserk lothbrok #Hvitserk Whiteshirt #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk x reader #vikings #vikings fanfiction #hvitserk fanfiction #hvitserk fanfic #feels like home #pt4 #reader insert #fanfic

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jingabitch · 4 years

Text

An Arrangement for Convenience ch.3

Summary: It's ridiculous that girl groups aren't allowed to date, and are kept under such strict lock and key that they can't satisfy their desires. Enter Ha-eun, YG's solution to the problem.

Pairings: Jisoo x oc, eventual ot4 x oc

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving) | sex work | semi-public sex

A/N: Wrote this a while back and posted on ao3; reposting here because I want to be more active on this platform. While I currently have 8 chapters written which I will be releasing on Tumblr gradually, I am currently on hiatus due to school and work commitments and will not be actively writing and posting new stuff until the semester ends in December.

Series index

It wasn’t until two days later that Lisa and Chaeyoung were able to… summon Ha-eun, she supposed, for lack of a better word, since she’d had classes in the morning and had to accompany her brother to the hospital in the afternoon for his treatment. After that, they’d come straight home, where she’d stroked his hair, made him dinner, and given him plenty of hugs and kisses.

As she was leaving her final class of the day at two in the afternoon, though, her phone buzzed in her pocket as she stepped out of the building into the sunlight. Squinting against the glare of the afternoon sun, she shielded her eyes with one hand as she fished her phone out of her pocket to see who had texted her with the other.

The name that flashed across the screen made her literally stop in her tracks, causing the people behind her to bump into her. Well, it was really an emoji - the four girls had chosen their own contact emojis. Ha-eun apologized distractedly to the grumbling students who were just trying to go about their lives, ducking to the side to open the text in relative privacy.

Leaning against the wall, she tapped on the screen to open the text from the acorn (Chaeyoung). It was simple and straightforward - be at the YG building in an hour. Sending off an acknowledgement to the instruction, Ha-eun readjusted her backpack and started walking to the subway station.

Making it to the YG building with ten minutes to spare, Ha-eun used the pass she’d been given by Blackpink’s manager to enter the building, feeling a little weird about having it in the first place. Was she an official YG employee? She supposed so, given the contract and all, but it was so… strange.

Putting the thought out of her mind, she went up to the floor indicated in the text, and tried to find the room that Chaeyoung had told her to go to. Finally finding it after fifteen minutes of wandering around the corridors, utterly lost and starting to believe that she was going to die in a random spot of the YG headquarters, she knocked on the door then waited.

Almost immediately, Lisa opened the door, grinned on seeing that it was Ha-eun, and pulled the younger girl into the room by her wrist.

“Well, hello to you too,” Ha-eun said as she let herself be manhandled. “What’s- oh,” she cut herself off as she realised that the four girls weren’t the only ones in the room. It was a recording studio, and there were a few other staff there. She recognized Teddy Park in particular, and immediately folded her hands in front of her and bowed politely. “Hello,” she directed at the room in general. “I’m Kim Ha-eun,” she said, not sure what else to add after that.

They just nodded at her, and Chaeyoung patted the couch cushion next to where she was sitting, then held out her hand. Ha-eun put her own hand in Chaeyoung’s and let herself be pulled down onto the couch between her and Jisoo. Jennie, who was still in the recording booth, just waved and smiled.

“Okay, Jennie, once more, please,” Teddy instructed, and she gave him a thumbs up sign in response.

Chaeyoung picked up her phone and started typing on it, and Ha-eun didn’t pay her too much attention, immersed in watching Jennie sing, until her own phone buzzed. Stretching out her leg to dig her phone out of her pocket, she raised a brow when she saw that Chaeyoung had texted her again.

Sighing, she excused herself as the text directed and went to the closet that Chaeyoung had told her to wait in, looking around to make sure nobody was looking before she let herself in. Sitting on the ground, she was killing time going through some emails on her phone when Chaeyoung entered.

“Ha-eun-ah?” she called softly.

“Chaeyoung-unnie, I’m here,” Ha-eun replied, standing up.

Chaeyoung closed the short distance between them, pinning Ha-eun against the wall with her hands and body.

“Hello,” Ha-eun said, giggling as she rested her hands on Chaeyoung’s waist, curling her fingers in the belt loops on her jeans and tugging her closer. “You seem to have gotten lost,” she joked as Chaeyoung’s mouth descended on hers, muffling the last part of the sentence.

Chaeyoung’s hand cradled the back of her head, softly tugging on the long silky strands of hair as she kissed her deeply. Ha-eun moaned softly as she registered how soft Chaeyoung’s lips were, the sweetness of her warm breath on her face and her tongue in her mouth. When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard.

“Why did you get me to go to the studio in the first place?” Ha-eun said, laughing a little as her dexterous fingers worked the fly on Chaeyoung’s jeans.

Chaeyoung hummed. “To tease Jennie-unnie,” she admitted breathily as Ha-eun finished unzipping her jeans and slid her fingers down them, circling the pad of her thumb over Chaeyoung’s clit.

Ha-eun chuckled. “You could do that just as well at home, unnie, and we both know it.” With one hand down Chaeyoung’s pants, she put her other hand to work sliding up the back of Chaeyoung’s shirt, undoing the clasp on her bra with a one-handed flick.

“Mmm, maybe I wanted to show Teddy how times are changing,” Chaeyoung breathed. “You’re quite the sensation at YG, you know.”

Pushing Chaeyoung’s shirt up so she could suck a nipple in her mouth, Ha-eun hummed, trying to encourage Chaeyoung to continue without saying so, since her mouth was otherwise occupied.

Between gasps and moans, Chaeyoung explained, “CEO Hwang decided that this idea made a lot of sense for girl groups, and ever since people found out they’ve been wanting their own… I know iKON and Winner both asked.”

Ha-eun detached her mouth from Chaeyoung. “I’m sure they have a far easier time having their needs met,” she said, beginning to kiss her way down Chaeyoung’s abdomen as her fingers hooked in her waistband, pulling her jeans down her long legs.

“Got that right,” Chaeyoung said a little snappily, clearly resentful at the double standard in the way girl groups and guy groups were managed.

Laughing, Ha-eun got onto her knees, pressing a kiss to Chaeyoung’s pubic mound. “Hey, don’t be mad anymore,” she cajoled the older girl as she directed her to spread her legs apart a little wider. “Looks like you’re the winner here,” she said, her breath washing across Chaeyoung’s pussy.

Shivering, Chaeyoung found that she couldn’t really disagree with that logic.

“Fuck, eat me out,” she gasped, her hand on Ha-eun’s head pressing it closer to her aching core.

Giggling, Ha-eun obliged, sucking Chaeyoung’s clit in her mouth as she slid a finger into her pussy.

“Oh God, sweetie, your mouth is magic,” Chaeyoung said above her, pushing her face deeper into her pussy as she started grinding herself on Ha-eun’s face, her breath hitching every time her clit slid over Ha-eun’s nose.

Ha-eun stilled for the most part, allowing Chaeyoung to get herself off on her face, rubbing her juices all over her nose, cheeks and chin. She shivered as she wondered if Chaeyoung might have a little bit of a facesitting kink, based on the way she was almost smothering her (as best she could, anyway, given the rather awkward position they were in). Pressing another finger into Chaeyoung and crooking it, she was gratified to hear Chaeyoung’s breath catch and then a high, breathy moan as she gushed and came all over her face.

When it was over, Ha-eun gently extricated her fingers from the other girl, sitting back on her heels. “You okay?” she asked Chaeyoung, pulling her fingers from her hair and holding her hands comfortingly.

Chaeyoung let out a light giggle. “Yeah, sweetie, I’m great.” The endearment, said in English, warmed Ha-eun’s heart whenever it rolled off Chaeyoung’s tongue in her drawling Aussie accent, even if it did sound a little awkward since the rest of the sentence was in Korean.

“That’s good,” Ha-eun said, standing up and rotating her neck, which was a little sore from the awkward position it had been in. Helping Chaeyoung get her clothes back in order as well as she could in the dark, she squinted as the other girl opened the door to the well-lit corridor. Even though she’d only been in the closet for about twenty minutes, tops, her eyes had gotten used to the dark.

Chaeyoung looked behind her at Ha-eun and giggled. “It’s a good thing you weren’t wearing any makeup,” she said.

Ha-eun’s hand went up to her cheek reflexively, her mouth falling into a little o as she felt the sticky wetness coating her skin. “I should go clean up…” she said, turning away from Chaeyoung to find a bathroom.

“No, don’t,” Chaeyoung said, her arm snaking out to grab Ha-eun. “I like this, being able to smell myself on your face,” she crooned sultrily, resting her forehead on Ha-eun’s.

“Okay.” Even though it was embarrassing for her to keep the evidence of what she’d been doing on her face for everyone to see, especially the strangers in the room, Chaeyoung’s words pulled the acquiescence from her effortlessly. In fact, now that she knew it would please the older girl, she wanted everyone to know that she’d been off having sex with Park Chaeyoung of Blackpink.

Her shoulders were a little straighter and her head held just a tad higher when she re-entered the room, trailing behind Chaeyoung, but the moment her eyes met Teddy Park’s, she deflated, going right back to the couch to sit next to Jisoo, clutching her shirt as she snuggled insistently closer, until Jisoo raised her arm to wrap it around her shoulders as she burrowed into her side.

Chaeyoung smirked a little at Ha-eun’s obvious embarrassment at her request, even though she’d agreed to it so easily. She met Teddy’s gaze steadily, quirking a brow right back at him when he looked at her questioningly.

“All right,” he murmured to himself, eyes flicking once more to Ha-eun, who was now glued to Jisoo as they giggled quietly about something. He’d heard about the new arrangement with vague interest, being too old for this kind of gossip, but the girl sitting in front of him now definitely seemed too young and wide-eyed for such a job. He’d heard that she was in college, but with her bare face, t-shirt dress, cardigan and sneakers, she hardly looked old enough to be in high school.

Ha-eun, sensing that she had his attention, looked over and honest to God winked at him. Now ensconced in Jisoo’s warm embrace, she was feeling brazen, and Chaeyoung’s words about her being a topic of interest in YG were still ringing in her head.

Lisa, sitting next to Teddy discussing her part of the new song they were recording, saw the interaction and stifled a giggle. Ha-eun was definitely way too sassy for her own good, and Teddy’s shocked expression as he turned back to her to continue explaining the vibe of the song he had in mind was gold. Pressing her lips together and swallowing her laughter, she shot Ha-eun a mock glare as she turned back to the sheet music.

Jennie made her way out of the recording booth and sat down on Ha-eun’s other side, as Chaeyoung went to take her turn recording. “Hi, how are you?” she asked, taking Ha-eun’s hand.

Even though they’d only known each other for a few days, Ha-eun was irrationally pleased at how comfortable they were around her. Then again, she supposed, having her face between their legs probably did wonders for the levels of physical intimacy they were comfortable with in public.

“I had a good day at school today,” Ha-eun replied, curling her fingers in Jennie’s palm comfortably. “My professor gave our midterms back, and I got an A,” she told Jennie, smiling softly.

“Ha-eun-ah, that’s great! We’ll have to reward you when we get back,” Jennie said, the meaning behind her words unmistakable. Ha-eun bit her lip but couldn’t hold back the smile, shooting back, “I can’t wait,” as Jisoo pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Lisa came over, now that Teddy was busy with Chaeyoung, and sat next to Jennie, resting her head on the older girl’s shoulder. “What are you guys talking about?” she wanted to know.

“Ha-eun got an A on her midterm,” Jennie informed her, and Lisa cooed, “Aww, that’s amazing!”

All the attention made Ha-eun flush a little; she hadn’t expected so much excitement over her rather mundane everyday life, and it was always a little weird when her clients wanted to get to know her personally; it wasn’t what she was there for. Her job was to create the illusion of an emotional connection for the client.

Trying to shift the conversation back to topics she was more comfortable with (and wasn’t that something for her to chew on later, that she was more comfortable talking about sex than how her day was going) she sent Lisa a laviscious wink and said, “That’s not the best thing that’s happened to me today, though.”

Lisa, getting the message, giggled. “What is, then?” she played along.

Instead of answering, Ha-eun looked back at the recording booth, where Chaeyoung was singing, then back at Lisa.

It was interesting, watching the girls record their new song. The process was usually kept so opaque (and if she were being honest, she’d never had much interest in what went into producing and recording a song) that she found herself fascinated watching them take turns in the recording booth, then all go in together.

Time flew by, and it was night before Ha-eun knew it. She was still sitting on the couch behind Teddy, watching the four girls in the booth, when Teddy leaned forward, pushed a button and said, “Okay, that’s a wrap for today.”

While they were putting their headphones back and filing out of the recording booth, Teddy turned and said to her in a low voice, “Whatever you did today, keep doing it.”

Ha-eun turned to him, surprised. He hadn’t said anything to her before that, and she wasn’t even sure he’d been talking to her. “I’m sorry?” she asked.

Teddy nodded towards Chaeyoung. “She’s never sounded so relaxed and confident in the booth before, and all of them sound slightly brighter today.”

Ha-eun blushed, knowing exactly why Chaeyoung had been relaxed earlier. “I’ll try my best,” she promised, and Teddy winked.

“What did he say to you?” Jennie asked later, as they were in the elevator going back down to the basement to get in the van.

Ha-eun shrugged. “That your singing is better with me around.”

All eyes slid to Chaeyoung, who coughed and looked away from them, fixated on the flashing numbers on top of the elevator door indicating the floors they were passing.

“Well, I definitely need to improve my singing,” Lisa said, finally taking pity on Chaeyoung as she draped an arm around Ha-eun’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.

Ha-eun laughed as she interlocked her fingers with Lisa’s, pressing a kiss to her lips right before the elevator doors opened. “Aww, I’d be more than happy to help out,” she cooed.

Lisa gave a mock sigh as they walked towards the van. “It’s so hard being the youngest,” she pouted. “I’m always the last one who gets to play with new toys.”

Ha-eun, climbing into the van after Lisa, pinched her butt playfully as Lisa got in, then sat next to the older girl, draping her legs across Lisa’s lap and her arms around her neck.

“Look, I’ve gotten a pet koala,” Lisa joked, though she didn’t seem too displeased as she wrapped an arm around Ha-eun.

Ha-eun, giggling, shot back, “You didn’t say you were into pet play, Lisa-unnie.”

When Lisa just stared at her, Ha-eun smiled and tightened her arms slightly, so Lisa had to lean forward to kiss her.

“Lisa, hope you like tasting me on Ha-eun’s face,” Chaeyoung said from the back.

Pulling back, Lisa just looked at Ha-eun in disbelief. “She didn’t let me wash my face after,” Ha-eun defended herself.

“I don’t mind,” Lisa breathed, her mouth slanting across Ha-eun’s again, and she wriggled closer still to kiss the older girl more deeply.

The manager, driving them home, had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. The four girls had always been pretty funny and interesting, but having Ha-eun around certainly made things more lively - their jokes had never been this sharp and sassy before, and she certainly was good for the group’s morale.

He could still remember how happy Jennie and Jisoo had been yesterday, cheerfully greeting him when he’d arrived at six am to pick them up although neither could really be considered morning people. Most days, they would file in sleepily and ignore him for the rest of the trip, but yesterday while the two younger girls dozed, Jennie and Jisoo had politely asked him about his new girlfriend and how work was treating him.

“Okay, here we are,” he said as he pulled up in front of the dorm building, causing Lisa and Ha-eun to break apart and peer out the window.

“Come on, guys, don’t actually have sex in the van,” Jennie sniped at Lisa as she got out of her seat to move awkwardly to the door.

“Okay, I guess we should go then,” Lisa said to Ha-eun, as the younger girl detached herself and stumbled out of the van. Waiting for Lisa to get out, the two of them held hands as they went up the elevator back to their apartment.

#blackpink smut #bpsmut #blackpink #kim jennie #kim jisoo #lisa manoban #park chaeyoung #ot4 x oc #lisa x oc #jennie x oc #jisoo x oc #rose x oc #an arrangement for convenience #aafc

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empaths-hsp · 4 years

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7 ‘Rules’ for Highly Sensitive People to Protect Their Energy

Anyone is welcome in my world, but there are a few rules, because I’m choosing to no longer be manipulated or shamed for being sensitive.

I am a highly sensitive person, and if I’m being honest, it’s not easy being me. I am not like other people, and sometimes I don’t fit in. I have little patience for shallow conversation, arbitrary rules, loud, disorganized environments, hate, or purposeful unkindness. I can “feel” it when we connect, and I am very aware when we don’t. I am interested in conversations that get to the root of things. I am not interested in listening to what you think I want to hear.

However, I haven’t always been able to express these preferences. I grew up believing I was too sensitive. I formed thick barriers around myself to guard against emotion. Emotion, in my world, could and would be used against me.

Unfortunately, blocking out mad or sad feelings also blocks out happy ones. At that point in my life, I was not a happy person. Trying to fit in and make people like me was exhausting. I was not able to say no, simply because I wanted approval — and I ended up resenting the demands that I allowed others to make on me.

A Life-Changing Realization

Later in life, I learned that I’m a highly sensitive person — and this changed everything for me. To put it simply, everyone has a sensitive side, but roughly 1 in 5 people are more sensitive than others, or what researchers call highly sensitive people (HSPs). HSPs tend to process information very deeply, which can make them quite gifted — but it also means they “burn through” a lot of mental energy. Too much stimulation completely drains them.

(Wondering if that might be you? Here are the signs you are a highly sensitive person.)

Today, I’m working toward living a more authentic life, and that starts with self-care. Despite all the photos brightly splashed around Instagram, “self-care” was a new term for me. I’ve since learned that good self-care isn’t just a bubble bath — it’s also about setting the right boundaries. Anyone is welcome in my world, but there are a few rules. I’m choosing not to be manipulated, guilted, or shamed into doing things that don’t align with my vision for a healthy life.

You know the craziest part? I have way better relationships and a stronger sense of belonging now. So here are seven “rules” I follow that I hope will help you, too.

7 ‘Rules’ for Sensitive People

1. If you’re not nice, you cannot come here.

For HSPs, other human beings are the brightest thing on their mental radar, all on account of their brain wiring. So when someone makes passive-aggressive comments, I notice. I usually don’t acknowledge it, but you better believe I caught it. Likewise, when the conversation veers toward gossip, it can be so easy to get sucked into the negativity, and it always makes me feel awful just for having participated in any way. And, if you talk down to me or make me feel judged for not liking what you like, that’s not okay either.

Sure, I will be gracious to you if we come in contact, but you are not welcome in my home, nor will I attend one of your functions. The energy that emanates from negativity is like poison to HSPs, and it’s dangerous for our mood and outlook to absorb. So I avoid these people at all costs.

2. No takers.

Highly sensitive people are givers by nature. Empathetic and caring, we want to help whenever possible. But there will always be some people who abuse our generosity. These people are called takers, according to psychologist Adam Grant, and they focus only on getting as much as they can from others. Spending too much time with them actually makes me feel physically sick from the exhaustion.

You know the type. These are the ones who always want something, are always complaining, or are always playing the victim. Or the one who always has to one-up you: “Well, if you think that’s bad, you should hear about what happened to me.” These people will suck you dry of your mental and physical energy if you allow them to. If they could, they would have you taking their children to soccer practice and making them dinner while they’re at the spa!

3. Stop the glorification of busy.

We live in a culture that glorifies being busy. If you’re not constantly running around, getting things done, then you’re not productive, maybe even lazy. However, this is not the case, especially for highly sensitive people, who need more downtime than others to recharge. If you’re constantly run down, can’t commit to anything, don’t have time to help out a friend once in a while, or are continuously stressed and frazzled, it’s time to reevaluate. Ask yourself: Are you living life the way you want to, or do you feel as if you’re spinning like a top and barely hanging on for dear life? Do you do things you enjoy, even just occasionally?

I used to think I had to prove my worthiness with a rundown of all my appointments, soccer games, clubs, Society of Martyrs meetings, etc. Now, I am delightfully, unapologetically un-busy. I take time to drink a cup of tea and play with my kids. You want to meet for coffee? Sure, I got time. As a highly sensitive person, I love meaningful conversations over a hot beverage.

And yes, of course, I have a million things to do, but I have prioritized and eliminated the things from my to-do list that don’t fit with my vision for my life — or at least my vision for today. Some days are busy and it can’t be helped. I acknowledge that. I’m not saying you should quit your job and stop feeding your kids! Obviously, some things are mandatory.

But seriously, prioritize. Your worthiness is not attached to your productivity, so don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.

4. ‘No’ is a complete answer.

You don’t need a reason to say “no.” People almost never ask why. If saying no right away feels too uncomfortable, buy yourself some time to answer. For example:

Pushy PTA lady: “Can you make three dozen cupcakes for the bake sale?”

You: “Wow, I’d love to help with the bake sale, but I should check my schedule first. I’ll get back to you.”

This gives you time to give it some thought. Maybe you do want to do it. But if you don’t, it gives you time to come up with an alternative solution, like purchasing cupcakes rather than baking them.

If someone will not take no for an answer, it might be time to sit down and discuss boundaries. I find this happens most often within families. If you fail to lay out boundaries, trust me, you will live in resentment. I know, because I’ve been there. Having an honest conversation can be hard, especially for us highly sensitive people since conflict can be overstimulating for us. But, in the long run, resentment can be much harder on a relationship than an honest conversation.

(If you have trouble saying no, here are some tips.)

5. It’s okay to feel “too much.”

Especially right now, this world can feel so sad, broken, and lonely, and nobody feels that deeper than a highly sensitive person. But as sensitive people, we may bottle up our true feelings because we don’t want others to think we’re “too much” — and this is dangerous. Obviously, there is a time and a place for everything. The important thing is to make space to process your feelings.

If you’re not sure how to do that, start with journaling, which can be especially helpful for HSPs during troubled times. Trust me, feelings that go unacknowledged don’t just disappear. They lay dormant and come out in ways that are almost always negative and destructive. Have you ever snapped at your spouse and thought, where in the world did that come from? Maybe it was because he forgot to bring home that loaf of bread — last week — and you were still holding onto anger. Journaling will help you process your emotions, everything from frustration with your spouse to anxiety about the world at large.

6. Read a little every day.

I know I’m not the only highly sensitive person who drinks in books. I need words like I need food. There were many years when I did not make the time to read. I thought it was selfish.

But reading is the kind of downtime that soothes and informs. It’s a win-win. There’s nothing better than the connectedness that happens when words written decades, or even centuries, ago speak to one’s heart and remind us that we are not alone.

Like what you’re reading? Get our newsletter just for HSPs. One email, every Friday. Subscribe here.

7. Not everything is about you.

Dear sensitive soul, you are different. You process things differently and more fully than others do. You are going to pick up on things that are not meant for you.

I wish someone had told me these words years ago. I used to take things very personally until I realized that the moods and attitudes of others rarely have anything to do with me. This was a lightbulb moment for me because I didn’t realize that most people don’t notice as much as I do. Now that I know, I can put things in perspective and let them go. She may not have answered my text because she’s busy, not because she’s angry at me, I tell myself.

Alternatively, others won’t always pick up on the signals that I put out. I used to think I was being obvious about my needs, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t stating them clearly. Learning how to speak up for my needs was a real turning point for me. And with that came the realization that people are not going to love me in the same way that I love them — in a way that only a highly sensitive person can — but that doesn’t mean their love is less.

HSP, it’s not selfish to care for yourself. It’s not selfish to schedule downtime. When you have rules that protect your energy, you are at your best for the people who need you. You will find yourself more willing and able to be generous without feeling resentful.

Find ways that work for you that get you closer to your vision of the life you want. If people and situations make you uncomfortable, there is a reason for that. Trust those instincts, because they will help you create the life you want.

You might like:

How Highly Sensitive People Can Stop Saying Yes When They Want to Say No

8 Tips for HSPs to Take ‘Little’ Things Less Personally

These 21 Things Stress Out Highly Sensitive People the Most

The post 7 ‘Rules’ for Highly Sensitive People to Protect Their Energy appeared first on Highly Sensitive Refuge.

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#Empaths #Introverts #Highly Sensitive People #Tips

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twdeadfanfic · 5 years

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It’s a dog’s life Pt.12

*Summary: The reader is new and alone at the quarry’s camp, the only one she has is her dog, who seems to be best friends with Daryl Dixon, a not so friendly man, but that friendship will bring the reader closer to Daryl, finding that there’s more to Daryl than what you can see at first glance…besides, he’s pretty hot at first glance, isn’t him?

*Slow burn, both reader and Daryl’s pov, violence and language twd style.Follows the events of season 1 and 2.

*4172 words

*Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Chapters: 12/14

*Link to my masterlist with my other works can be found on the description of this blog. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but tumblr doesn’t show posts with links in the tags

Last chapter Daryl was upset about Sophia’s death, keeping himself away from everyone, through the reader and the dog managed to reach through to him...to the point of sharing a sleeping bag! :O Let’s see how they’re doing now...only two chapters left!

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Daryl had been right, the prisoner brought more problems.

He had been with a group who had attacked Rick and the others at the town so Rick had decided he and Shane would drive him out and set him loose away from the farm. It took half a week for the boy’s injured leg to heal enough for him to be able to at least limp to safety once he were released.

During those days, Y/N had kept joining him in his camp and holding him as they slept, the dog snuggled at their feet. Daryl usually woke up before her and when he looked at her sleeping frame he was barely able to stop himself from pulling her closer, from kissing her, from trying to work up the courage to ask her to be with him. He never did, getting up and going out hunting, leaving her alone in the tent before his feelings could overwhelm him.

He still didn’t know if her joining him at night meant something more than not wanting to sleep alone or not, but he couldn’t gather the courage to ask her and risk being rejected, maybe then she wouldn’t want to hold him and be with him anymore. Still, sometimes it felt like torture, having all her smiles and little touches during the day and then her arms and warmth around him at night, but without her being his, without them being together in the way Daryl couldn’t help but wish. Still, he was grateful at least he got to have that.

Finally, there came the day in which Rick and Shane drove Randal away while everyone else waited anxiously at the farm. Both men came back looking like they had beat each other, which wouldn’t surprise Daryl that much at this point, and with the prisoner still with them. Apparently, he knew the Greene’s and where the farm was, so letting him lose could be too dangerous and so now he was tied up in the barn.

Rick had asked Daryl to interrogate the prisoner, see what more they could find about him and his group, and first Daryl had thought it was just him being asked yet again to do something none else wanted to, but then he remembered Y/N’s words about Rick respecting him…maybe he did want him to help with this…and at any rate, he wanted to know if that guy really meant problems.

The interrogation had soon turned into threatening the kid and punching the shit out of him but Daryl tried not to think it much. It wasn’t the first time he punched someone until his knuckles bleed and this time he was sure the man had it coming. He knew just by looking at him that he was trouble and bad news, he was used to people like that, hell, he could have been one himself very well. Soon the kid was spitting the truth about his group and it was as bad as Daryl had thought.

Rick had surprised him with his decision to execute the young man at that, he hadn’t seen the cop taking a decision like that, but Daryl understood the reasons. Nobody spoke against it but Dale, and it didn’t seem the old man had much support from the others.

Daryl didn’t care. He had noticed how some of them looked at his bloodied hands and he couldn’t help but feel they were judging him. He had done that for them, just like Rick wanted to kill the kid so as to protect the farm from his group. Daryl didn’t want to keep feeling eyes on him, whether they were judging him or waiting for him to voice his opinion, he didn’t want to get into whatever discussion they might have, and so he left towards his camp.

He didn’t mind that Y/N followed him, in fact, he welcomed it. She was with him most of the time now, and for someone who liked solitude as much as him, Daryl couldn’t say he didn’t like having her around, and somehow it seemed Y/N really liked to be with him too.

Daryl didn’t think he would ever want to go back to sleeping without her now, not matter it was torture at the same time, unable to have her the way he wanted her. But at least he had her holding him at night.

Y/N hadn’t said anything about the whole thing with the boy, silent while the others talked. He helped her and the dog through the wire in silence and then went to sit down on the log. Y/N sat down next to him and took out of her bag the rags and disinfectant and whatnot that now she seemed to carry in her bag. Daryl wondered if Hershel had found it out by now. Y/N took his hands and began to clean his open knuckles in silence.

“Thanks,” Daryl said quietly, wincing slightly as the disinfectant stung at his wounds.

Y/N gave him a small smile. “Is it really that bad?”

“Yeah…trust me, it is, his group’s worse than bad news.”

“I trust you.” Y/N said immediately, making Daryl’s heart skip a beat. “What do you think about this, about Rick’s decision?”

“Don’t know…” Daryl shrugged. “But something has to be done, he can’t go back to his group and take them here.” Y/N nodded at his words. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know either.” She shrugged too. “But yeah, guess we have to do something…”

Y/N took back the gauzes and everything into her bag and then shifted to sit closer to him. Daryl took a deep breath and carefully wrapped a hesitant arm around her. Y/N snuggled to him at that, giving him the confidence to tighten his hold on her, pulling her to him and to even press a soft kiss to the top of her head.

You muttered a string of curses, sucking your finger into your mouth when you hurt it with a splinter. You were trying to carve some arrows for Daryl’s crossbow, wanting to see if they’d work. You’d never been a fan of making arrows, though, and you were starting to remember why. It was tedious and you weren’t good at it.

Daryl had gone to bring more wood, both for the arrows and for the campfire, and maybe to hunt something too. You had been staying at Daryl’s camp for almost a week, cuddling with him as you slept, and you didn’t plan on going back to the group’s camp and your tent.

You two had always been close, but it felt different now, it was even stronger. Whenever he was not hunting and you weren’t doing chores, you two would be together, whether in comforting silence or with you telling him about anything, Daryl adding comments here and there. And then you’d go to sleep and Daryl would snuggle with you as you held him close, and you’d melt, realizing each night how much you cared for him. Honestly, you loved it, and you were grateful you got to enjoy something like this in the crazy world you now lived in.

You couldn’t help but want more, though, but you didn’t know how to tell Daryl or if he’d want it too. By now you were more or less sure he must have some sort of feelings for you too, but after the CDC and how he’d reacted when you kissed him, you didn’t want to rush anything and push him. Still, a part of you kept telling you if you waited for him to speak up you’d be waiting forever. And another part of you worried thinking maybe he didn’t feel like you, maybe he liked to spend time with you, to sleep cuddled to you, but he didn’t want anything else. Daryl cared for you, you had no doubts about it, but you weren’t sure he was the type of person to fall in love and have relationships.

You would better stop overthinking it and enjoy whatever it was.

You saw Daryl already coming back, Cole with him, and then you saw Dale approaching them, probably to ask Daryl’s opinion about the execution of Randal and to try and get his vote against it. Daryl wasn’t going to like it. Dale had already come to talk to you too, and while he couldn’t give you a better solution to prevent Randal from bringing his group here, then you’d have to stand with Rick, no matter how terrible the whole situation was.

You saw them going back and forth and then Daryl made his way to you. He dropped the wooden sticks he had collected and sat down next to you.

“He came to ask me too.” You told him while you kept fighting against one of the soon to be arrows. “What did you tell him?”

“That I don’t care what they do and that the group’s broken anyway. Give me that.” Daryl took the stick from your hand and began carving it himself.

“What you mean by broken?” You asked, frowning in confusion. “It’s not, we’re still a group.”

“Everyone’s lying and hiding shit, and at each other throats.” Daryl shrugged. “Pretty sure Rick and Shane beat the shit out of each other yesterday.” You had thought the same. “And Loris’ pregnant of Shane, it ain’t Rick’s. And shit’s just gonna get worse.”

You weren’t surprised Daryl knew about Shane and Lori, he was observant, and probably he wasn’t the only one who knew it, so yes, things were probably going to get a hell more awkward now. “You can’t know that, could be Rick’s.” Daryl just arched an eyebrow at you at that and you gave up.

“Alright, all that’s true, I still don’t know what you mean, we’re gonna stick together anyway, there’s not much else we can do…” You said and Daryl just shrugged again, it wasn’t being easy to read what was going through his mind. “You aren’t going to just leave one day and disappear on me, are you?” You tried to sound like you were kidding, but you couldn’t help the hint of worry in your voice. You could very well see Daryl just going away one day and never coming back.

Daryl looked up from the stick at that, seeming to notice your worry was real. “I ain’t leaving you.” He assured, averting his eyes as his cheeks tainted soft pink, and you couldn’t help your small smile. “Didn’t mean that, none’s gonna leave this farm, it’s safe…just…none’s gonna care for nothing but themselves no more, as it always has been.”

It was sad, but it might be true, it was realistic. “You might be wrong, though.” You tried to stay optimistic, half expecting Daryl to scoff at you, but he just gave you a small smile.

You brought your hurt finger back to your mouth, wondering how something so small could hurt like that, no matter you had managed to take the splinter out.

“You hurt yourself?”

“No, your arrow attacked me with a splinter.”

Daryl snorted quietly and took your hand to inspect your finger, though the tiny wound was barely visible. “Give those stupid band-aids, it’s time for you to wear one.”

The vote was done and the decision made, Randal would be executed that night.

“Hey,” Daryl approached you while you were sitting down at the outside of your tent, trying to busy yourself with that book you had been reading him. “Rick wants me to help him and Shane with…that.”

You looked at him but didn’t know what to say. “You okay with it?”

“It gotta be done.” He answered you, face unreadable.

“Yeah…”

You reached out to take his hand and give it a brief squeeze. Daryl nodded and left. Carol joined you, sitting down next to you though you both remained silent as you all waited for Rick, Shane, and Daryl to come back from the barn.

It didn’t take them long and you couldn’t hide your surprise when Rick began explaining how he had changed his mind and he wasn’t going to kill the boy, he’d still be kept in the barn until he could think of another solution, maybe try to drive him further away. Judging the way Shane was looking at him, he didn’t seem happy about it, and you could just hope it wouldn’t mean more trouble. You looked at Daryl but he just shrugged. At least Dale would be happy.

“I think I’m going to sleep before those two start butting heads again.” You said quietly to Daryl, who smirked.

“Come?” He asked without meeting your eyes, nodding towards his camp, seeming so shy you felt like squeezing him to you.

“Sure thing.”

You hadn’t reached Daryl’s camp yet when suddenly he stopped as if noticing something and before you could know what was happening he was running away. You gasped when you saw what was he running to, Dale was lying on the ground with a walker on top of him. You ran behind Daryl, Cole outrunning you, and when you reached them, Daryl had already put down the walker, knelt down next to Dale who was heaving and grunting, his stomach torn open. It was horrifying and it brought up unwanted memories.

��What do we do? What do we do?” You asked in panic, Daryl getting up and going to you. “Hershel, we have to, he…” You babbled and Daryl wrapped an arm around you to pull you to him. He didn’t say anything but you knew, looking at Dale like that, than not even Hershel could help him.

Rick reached you, kneeling down next to Dale, seeming as out of himself as you, and then all the others, one by one, Hershel included, who just confirmed there was nothing to do. You heard Andrea’s heartbroken cries, Carol holding her, and you couldn’t look at her, though looking at Glenn wasn’t much better, and looking at Dale like that was just too much.

Rick took his gun to end up Dale’s suffering, it was heartbreaking, but it had to be done. Rick’s hand shook and you heard him taking a deep breath, but before he could try again Daryl let go of you carefully to take out his own gun.

“Sorry, brother.” He told Dale, who you thought was almost smiling encouragingly, and pressed the trigger.

For a moment, nobody said anything, and Hershel was the first to speak. “We’ll bury him in the morning. Come in into the house now.” Hershel glanced a Shane, pursing his lips, and you knew there was going to be some trouble there but at that moment it didn’t really seem to matter.

Rick nodded, still seeming out of sorts, and you supposed you all looked the same. You all had thought the farm to be safe, something like this shouldn’t have happened, a brutal reminder of the world you lived in. “I’ll prepare him for the funeral,” Rick said as he looked at Dale. He was right, you had to take care of the body, but it still felt wrong.

“Come on…” Maggie was saying quietly to Glenn, who was still looking at Dale wide-eyed, seeming half in shock. Carol tried to walk Andrea to the house too, but she shook off her embrace, not wanting to leave Dale’s side.

You felt out of place and useless as you couldn’t find words of comfort, once again your dog was better than you at that, he was right next to Andrea, who began absentmindedly running her fingers through his fur, eyes still trained on the body. You turned to leave but Daryl’s hand your arm stopped you.

“I’m gonna help Rick and Andrea with this.”

You nodded and then it sunk for the first time that Daryl had been the one to end Dale’s suffering. “You okay?”

“Gotta be.”

Inside the house, Patricia made some tea, and you all sat down on the living room in silence. Eventually, Rick and Andrea came back, though Daryl and Cole weren’t with them. You looked at Rick and he answered you before you could ask. “He followed Daryl to his camp.”

You nodded and got out to look for them. Probably Daryl had had enough for the day and wanted to be alone, and you hoped that it didn’t include you. You didn’t feel like sleeping alone, that night of all nights, and you’d the feeling neither would Daryl.

“Y/N, wait.” Rick called after you. “I haven’t seen any other walker but this place isn’t as safe as I thought.” He sounded guilty. “I can walk you.”

You shoot him a grateful smile but shook your head, not wanting to bring anybody else to Daryl’s camp if he was upset. “Nah, thank you but I’ll be fine.” You patted the holster of your gun, trying to look more confident than you felt.

You walked fast, trying not to be scared, until you reached Daryl’s camp without any accident. You tried to walk through the wires carefully but couldn’t help but make some of them rattle. You heard Cole’s bark and then he was walking to you, tail wiggling. Daryl walked behind him, he didn’t seem worried, as if he knew it’d be you, probably thanks to Cole’s reaction.

“What you doing here.” Was the first thing he said, and you stopped moving towards him. Maybe he didn’t want you there, maybe he had wanted to be alone and it included you.

“Sorry, I can leave.” You told him quietly.

“No, no, I just thought you’d rather stay in the house. Come on.” He turned and began walking towards his tent. “Don’t like you walking alone here at night.” He murmured, sitting down on the log in front of his tent. You couldn’t help your small smile as his words made something flutter in your stomach.

“I rather stay here with you than in the house, and I don’t like you being alone here either.” You sat down next to him. “Especially not after…” You trailed off.

“It’s fine, if a geek comes it gets trapped in the wire. Just didn’t feel like being around everyone else right now.” He added quietly.

“Yeah…me neither…I don’t know what to say…I don’t think there’s nothing comforting I can say to Andrea and Glenn.”

“Are they angry at me?” Daryl asked quietly, glancing at you before dropping his gaze to the ground.

“Angry?” You frowned, confused.

“For what I did…”

“What? No. It had to be done.” If anything, you were sad Daryl’d had to put down one of your own like that, you knew he must be more upset at it than what he’d let out and you hoped he wouldn’t blame himself much. “You did good, I’m sorry you had to do something like that, though.”

“Ain’t fair Rick has to be always doing everything while everyone just complains,” Daryl said quietly and you smiled softly at that, wondering how he could still dare to say he didn’t care about the others after everything he had done and kept doing.

“You’re a good man, Daryl, the best.” You whispered. Daryl brushed off your compliment, shrugging without looking at you. “You did right to Dale.”

“Doesn’t really feel like it.” He admitted quietly.

You shifted closer to wrap an arm around him and Daryl leaned into you, wrapping his arm around you too and tilting his head to rest it on your shoulder. You kissed the top of his head before resting your cheek on it. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts and also enough courage to speak.

“First time I saw one of those things it was a morning after I’ve camped in the woods with some guests, a couple with a little kid.” You began explaining quietly. “We were going back when suddenly we found a man looking really ill, I didn’t know what it was back then…he tried to attack us and when the husband stepped in front of us, the monster bit him, didn’t let him go, started eating him in front of us when they fell to the ground…”

You shivered, you hadn’t thought about all this in a long while, lest you were back to your nightmares, and Daryl’s arm tightened around you.

“I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what was happening, Cole was barking like crazy and I picked up the kid, grabbed his mother’s arm and ran as fast as we could back to the house, leaving the husband there…” There was nothing you could have done for him, now you knew it.

“But back in the house some other guests were dead on the ground while others were eating them, I didn’t know what do, I didn’t feel real, it was worse than a nightmare…” You had been lucky the bed & breakfast wasn’t too big and you never had many guests, just three families tops, or you wouldn’t be here now. “I was so terrified, I didn’t know what to do…I gave the woman the keys of my car, told her not to wait for me, to just drive away, I had to find my parents…I tried to get Cole to leave with her but he stayed with me.” The woman had been trying to call the police and hospitals, you were standing far enough from the walkers so they wouldn’t see you, but nobody was picking up and she hadn’t wanted to leave without you, but you had made her.

“I walked around the house, didn’t dare to get too close to those things but I had to find my parents. There weren’t walkers at the back of the house so I jumped in through one of the windows…didn’t take me long to find them…” You swallowed hard, you had never told anyone this. “My mom was dead on the ground and my father…he was one of those things so he was…he was eating her.” Your voice broke and you took another deep breath, trying to get a hold on yourself. You never let yourself think about this, you couldn’t, it was too much. Daryl had lifted his head from your shoulder to look at you while you talked and now he pulled you closer and you snuggled to him, grateful.

“He noticed me, came to me…he wouldn’t stop no matter what..., trying to bite me…that thing wasn’t him. So I…I took my knife and I-” You couldn’t finish the sentence. Still silent, Daryl took your hand and brushed his thumb over your knuckles softly. Your eyes were wet but you managed to give Daryl a small, weak smile. “And then I jumped out of the window and Cole and I ran away from there as fast as we could, back into the woods. I should have checked if there was someone else alive…I should have checked on the other animals, let them free…I hope some of them escaped…but I needed to be away from there…”

“I’m thankful I had Cole with me or else I’d have gone crazy.” You reached out your free hand to pat your dog’s head. “We were alone out there until you found us and took us to that quarry with all the others. And I’m so damn grateful for that too. Never thanked you enough.” You smiled but you were shivering hard, unable to hold back your tears. You had kept all this inside for so long. “So yeah, I get it, it doesn’t feel right, but it was. We gotta remind ourselves that.”

Daryl reached out to wipe your tears with tentative fingers, looking at you with sad, helpless eyes, as if he didn’t know what to say, as if he wanted to comfort you and didn’t know how...as if he weren’t doing it already. He was so sweet and he didn’t even know it. He leaned over, his fingers still on your cheek, and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you. Your heart began to beat fast in anticipation and you began to lean towards him, but he wasn’t aiming for your lips and he placed the softest kiss on your wet cheek. It was a bit disappointing, but it was rather sweet too, and you smiled fondly to him.

Still, today it had been a reminder of how fragile life was now, at one moment you thought you were safe and at the next you were gone. It was a reminder to not take things for granted, to live at fullest whatever time you had left and to enjoy it as much as possible. Maybe it was time to stop waiting and take matters into your own hands. You weren’t going to die with regrets and wondering what it could have been. You just had to be careful so as not to scare him and made him feel pushed.

Maybe you couldn’t be as sweet as he was, but you could very well try.

.....................................................................................

Ow, we got a lot of drama and angst in this chapter...but also some fluff and bonding times...what you think?

Anyway, thank you for reading! Please, if you have a moment drop me a comment and let me know your thoughts, I’d love to read it and talk to all of you, it keeps me inspired and going!

As always, English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes.

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kiruuuuu · 5 years

Text

Smoke/Lesion oneshot in which both of them come out of the closet. Literally, not figuratively. (Rating E, explicit + hints of fluff, ~3.7k words) - written for @catfacedcryptid!! Thank you again for commissioning me 💚💚 I had fun writing this ship, their dynamic is intriguing to me :) Find my commission info here!

“And that concludes everything I have to say on these specific mines. Watch your step, everyone.” Lesion flips the laptop shut as another indicator of his talk being over before addressing the room with a blinding smile. “And break a leg.”

To an outsider, his audience must seem like a sorry excuse of a team – Glaz is doodling absent-mindedly on Jackal’s sleeve while the Spaniard has his eyes closed and seems to be dozing, Smoke is playing a crude imitation of foosball with Valkyrie opposite him (fashioned out of various office supplies), Gridlock is frowning up a storm with her arms crossed and looks ready to chuck the next person to look at her wrong into the trash bin, and Jäger is playing on his phone. And yet Lesion has no doubt that all of them not only understood but also retained the knowledge he passed on to them in preparation for an upcoming deployment in the Middle East: Glaz concentrates better when he draws, Smoke can only absorb large amounts of new information if his hands are occupied, Valkyrie has remarkable focus no matter what, Gridlock simply looks frightful when she’s thinking and Jäger most probably took notes while avoiding general eye contact. As for Jackal, well…

One of the others can fill him in later.

It’s one of the reasons why Rainbow works as well as it does – they draw from the combined experience of some of the best operators from all around the world and funnel their knowledge into a collective benefiting them all. Lesion can’t help but feel an odd sort of pride whenever he watches this group of individual disasters fuse together to form a horrifyingly competent squad.

Right now however, he’d like to fuse with just one member in particular.

“Porter”, he speaks up and is immediately granted full attention, allowing Valkyrie to score with a triumphant cheer. This will never get old, how easily Lesion becomes the Brit’s sole focus. If it’s honest, it’s addicting and he tests it now and then, calls his name from the other end of a room and is filled with a possessive warmth at the instant reaction. “Would you stay a little longer? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”

Bits and pieces fall into place, he can almost watch as the cogs turn in Smoke’s head. He realises this is premeditated, prologued by teasing touches this morning, taunting without providing satisfaction, a few obscure promises made over the past days. Smoke’s gaze darkens, his thoughts visible to Lesion only: So that’s how it’s gonna be. “Sure”, he replies, sounding normal, but Lesion would bet everything on the fact that his heartbeat just quickened.

Work is off limits. It’s a rule Lesion had to explicitly state a few weeks ago after an… incident involving him dropping a remark about Smoke’s gloves which ended up inside and around him in the most pleasurable way possible (filled with Smoke’s fingers, of course), the only problem being the location. Anyone could’ve walked in on them in the changing room, and it was only a fortunate coincidence nobody did. Therefore, Lesion set a rule with the addendum that only he is allowed to bend it – and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. And Smoke has caught on.

Nothing gives him away. He’s so natural in walking up to Lesion he almost wants to keep poking him, tease him to a point where his composure cracks in front of everyone but this was a rule both of them set, so he doesn’t push it. They’re not ready to make it official yet, despite the quiet words whispered to each other every time they cuddle in bed.

And Smoke is a magnet. Compact body, malicious grin, sharp jaw, confident stride – he’s everything Lesion has always warned others against, only to realise for it to be precisely his weakspot, and now that he’s latched onto him, there’s no hope for him anymore. Not that he’d hope for anything other than being right here, next to this bastard radiating pure smugness.

One second, Smoke is yelling something after Valkyrie, the next his fist is grabbing Lesion’s shirt and dragging him closer. There are days on which he’s clumsy and vulnerable and soft and asking the weirdest questions (has Lesion ever stuck his dick inside a vacuum? No. No, he has not), and on others he’s all low growls and sharp edges and obvious dominance. Today it seems to be the latter and it couldn’t have been more perfect. “Here?”, he wants to know curtly. Their faces are mere centimetres apart and the air between them sizzles.

“We’re at the end of the corridor, we’ll hear it if someone decides to come back”, Lesion whispers in return and, when Smoke doesn’t get it straightaway, adds: “We can even leave the door open.”

Oh, he likes that. The grip tightens and the other arm wraps around Lesion’s waist to pull their lower halves closer. Gingerly, Smoke leans in, takes Lesion’s toothpick between his own lips, spits it onto the floor and Lesion’s gone. This move gets him unfailingly every time, the meaningful eye contact, the slow movement, the deliberateness of it all, and the wonderful implications. Smoke only does this when he’s about to blow Lesion’s mind.

“Why don’t you put your mouth to better use?”, he suggests in a low voice and though it’s quite obvious what he means, Lesion can’t help but talk back.

“Are you implying the things I have to say aren’t worthwhile?”

Smoke’s eyes narrow. “I’m saying there’s better wood for you to suck on than your stupid toothpick.”

Lesion grins. The urge to mouth off is extremely hard to suppress but this is not the right moment for their usual wrestling for control, not when their prolonged absence could raise suspicion. Both of them have a competitive streak which extends into the bedroom, causes an almost permanent pushing and pulling, a power struggle both of them relish because as much as it’s a fight for control, it’s really a series of concessions. They’re both well aware of how stubborn and resilient (and in Smoke’s case self-centred) they are, meaning they couldn’t make each other do things they don’t want. Therefore, whenever either of them gives in, it’s a testament of how much genuine affection colours their interactions. Every time Smoke goes out of his way purely to do Lesion a favour, it’s a new rush of fondness, and Lesion never misses his lover’s eyes softening when he takes the time to pamper him.

As Lesion sinks to his knees, Smoke’s expression slips from carefully guarded into holy shit YES and Lesion almost laughs at the sudden switch. He knows exactly how the Brit is feeling, has experienced the same many times before whenever Smoke told him to just lie back and climbed on top of him, so he savours the moment and makes sure to glance up at the other man before he gets to work. He hasn’t done this in a while but still remembers the motions, grabs Smoke’s hard thighs with both hands and unbuttons his trousers with his lips and tongue, pulls his zip down with his teeth. He’s going to show Smoke just what his mouth can do.

“Oh fuck yes”, the other man hisses sharply, eyes sparkling, “you look so good down there. Don’t you ever forget you belong to me. Don’t let anyone else touch you, you hear? You’re fucking mine.”

Despite the insistent words and the fingers carding through his hair, laying claim to him, he takes his time once more. He teases his lover more than necessary and coaxes his stiffening dick out of the underwear, noses at the coarse hair and licks at the base – and as much as he gets the feeling that Smoke would like to act nonchalant and roll his eyes, he’s too caught up as evidenced by the drawn-together brows, the shallow breaths, the pleading looks.

Lesion relishes it all. He hasn’t done this in a while, recently topped a lot not for a special reason but because it just so happened, and left Smoke’s dick largely untouched, so he imagines his mouth must feel divine. He lets the tip glide over the inside of his cheek, feeling a satisfied smile tug at the corners of his mouth at every gasp and wonders whether he should use all of his throat soon or leave Smoke hanging for a little longer. He could do this all day, has on various occasions sucked two consecutive orgasms out of the Brit, disregarding his whimpers and protests, and he feels so good on his tongue, heavy and hot and -

And there’s footsteps.

In the name of all that is holy, why are there footsteps?

He glances up, is confronted with an already wrecked-looking Smoke who’d give them away, no doubt, cheeks dark and gaze darker, prominent erection too obvious to hide and besides, the person sounds entirely too close for comfort already. There’s just one solution, one course of action which will spare them significant embarrassment, and so Lesion shoves him in the direction of their safe haven, hissing: “In the closet. Go!”

If Smoke wasn’t still visibly dwelling on the feeling of Lesion’s mouth around him, he might’ve replied with something like ‘that’s where I spent the first eighteen years of my life anyway’, but as it is, he simply complies, stuffing himself into the mostly empty (yet concerningly tiny) supply closet before pulling Lesion against him, allowing for the door to close. They’re pressed together from head to toe, limbs at an awkward angle though at least they’re out of sight.

Lesion makes use of their proximity by kissing Smoke, careful not to produce any noise but devoted nonetheless, slides their lips together and realises much too late how big of a mistake he just made. Because Smoke does that thing with his tongue, the sensation rushing to Lesion’s crotch like it’s nobody’s business, and accompanying it is the feeling of the unwaveringly hard boner digging into hip. And if that wasn’t enough, Smoke’s hands slip into the back of his trousers.

He’s excellent at bringing out Lesion’s inner child, impresses him with the smallest demonstrations in his lab and inspires him to play pranks to his heart’s content – and right now, he’s making Lesion feel like a horny teenager again. He can’t remember the last time he got this insanely turned on purely by making out. There’s no other way to put it: if this keeps going, he’ll come in his pants. Smoke is melting against him, hungry for any touch, any bit of stimulation he can get and it only serves to amplify Lesion’s own desire, the drive to give and take and feel. Their situation adds to the thrill, and knowing Smoke has vague exhibitionist tendencies fuels Lesion’s imagination.

“No idea why the other room was taken, but this one will work”, a completely oblivious voice states loudly behind Lesion’s back. “Let’s start the meeting.”

Oh no.

While it’s not pitch black, he can’t make out Smoke’s expression yet guesses it to be exasperated. It seems like they’re stuck here for a while.

Lesion is halfway through the thought of taking out his phone and typing out the suggestion of maybe just kissing until their colleagues in the other room are done when he’s interrupted by a finger slipping between his cheeks. He stills. Evaluates the situation, intends to slowly remove Smoke’s hand because fucking in a closet with a small group of their colleagues directly next to them wasn’t high on his list of things to try out – and then his lover is sucking on his pulse point while rubbing the pad of his finger over Lesion’s entrance and he only barely manages to swallow the moan threatening to leave his throat.

It’s too warm and stuffy, getting hard to think, and if he’s honest giving in seems a lot less complicated than struggling, so after a brief scuffle he ends up pressed face first against the door with Smoke’s hard shaft at his backside and insistent hands silently unclasping his belt. Outside, he hears Ash’s clipped accent and decides to rest his weight against the door to stop it from rattling, leaving him effectively no opportunity to use his hands while Smoke undresses him agonisingly slow. Biting his lip, he ignores the light-headed mixture of danger, excitement and arousal pooling in his belly and merely awaits the inevitable, his own cock free now and jumping in anticipation when Smoke’s hot flesh drags against his thigh.

This is the hardest part: trying to stay quiet while Smoke fingers him open. He might have a horrendous gag reflex but more than makes up for it with the magic spells his fingers can weave – they rub against all the right places and have Lesion’s legs turn to jelly in no time, slicked digits invading him in the best way possible. Both their trousers are around their ankles now and so Smoke tosses the small bottle of lube Lesion brought in preparation into one of them, apparently deciding after a few agonising minutes that Lesion is wet and relaxed enough. If the stars he’s seeing before his closed eyelids are anything to go by, Lesion is inclined to agree.

Coherent and rational thought have long left him and so all he focuses on is the blunt head nudging his ring of muscle, sapping all his composure and reducing him to a single thought: yes. Just yes with all its implications of how much he wants this, how much he wants Smoke, how much they trust each other to do all this without much communication and how much in sync they are.

Yet, he hesitates. Leans forward into Lesion and breathes one word, a question: “Alright?”

Lesion can only nod, spreading his legs in the cramped space, not even hearing the muffled voices from the other side, and inhales deeply when Smoke breaches him. Despite all, it’s wonderfully intimate, even more so when an arm wraps around his midsection affectionately, and so he pushes against his lover as soon as he’s adapted to his girth. It prompts a monumental-feeling slide, controlled motions which only serve to muddle his brain even further with how deliberate, how precise they are – they can’t go fast, meaning Smoke needs to find a different way of making Lesion go insane and, well. He’s pretty spot on.

There’s no way Lesion can keep this up without moaning his heart out.

After Smoke has stroked over his sweet spot repeatedly, Lesion’s fingers begin twitching, his toes curling, and he belatedly realises that this is probably payback for the weekend on which he spent an entire day riling Smoke up despite being in public – sending suggestive texts, whispering in his ear, exploiting weakspots, the usual – because there’s a certain air of smugness to all of Smoke’s movements. Lesion can’t even claim he doesn’t deserve it.

Normally, they’re not this slow, but the circumstances heighten all of Lesion’s senses, really make him feel every centimetre deep inside, cause him to shudder whenever he feels Smoke’s breath against his skin. He’s acutely aware of how bad it would be if they did get caught, and yet this only increases his urgency, has him clench down on his lover and -

Oh yeah. This is the last, tiny bit of control he still holds over the other man.

In between shaking like a leaf due to suppressing any and all noises, he starts meeting the thrusts, tensing up in time and basically putting on a show purely for Smoke’s benefit. He’ll be damned if he’s the only one who loses his mind over this.

He did not expect a retaliation. And he certainly did not expect the Brit to put a hand over his mouth in a gesture so thoroughly possessive that Lesion is this close to throwing all shame out the window and reward it with a throaty groan, just like he didn’t expect him to withdraw almost completely only to shove back in all the way. Silently, of course.

And thus begins the sweetest torture Lesion has ever experienced. With Smoke’s teeth nibbling at his ear (and dear heavens, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is), all he can do is hold on for dear life, hope that the door holds and pray that no one is sitting directly next to their closet just in case. Waves of pleasure are rolling through him, a constant ebb and flow which feels timeless, makes him forget about gravity and his own name and he’s so caught up in the glorious repetitive motions that he can’t make out the words murmured into his ear.

Eyelids heavy, crotch tingling in the most wonderful way and gaze unfocused, he produces a dreamy hm? in response, wondering if he did anything wrong when Smoke stops moving.

Then his lover reaches out and opens the door.

Lesion nearly yells, grabs the frame at the last second as to not tumble out and is momentarily blinded by the light flooding in – long enough for his adrenaline to spike and bright panic to deafen him. Until he realises the room is empty, even the door to the hallway is closed.

“I said: they left a minute ago”, Smoke informs him, half amused and half wrecked and still very much inside.

“You’re such a fucking -” And he slams against Lesion, making his words the last for a few good minutes. They stumble forward together until Lesion can prop himself up on one of the tables and then Smoke switches to his usual pace, reaching deep and going hard and making those little growls Lesion can’t get enough of.

“I should’ve done that five minutes ago”, Smoke rumbles, voice interspersed with content groans expressing his relief over being as loud as he wants, “let them all see. Let them see this side of you, show them that I own you.” He runs his mouth a lot during sex, Lesion knows this, but even so the mental image has his cheeks burning and the sensation between his legs intensifying as he instinctively tenses up. “That’s right, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Gladly would spread your legs in front of them if I asked and -” He breaks off at a particularly fierce thrust but the damage is done, Lesion is thinking about it and can’t help but reach between his own legs.

Now that they’re free to indulge in each other as much as they want, their pleasure climbs and climbs, nearing its apex and Lesion, stroking himself in time with Smoke’s motions, adjusts the pressure to fit the timing, is so close, can tell Smoke is just as close – and then they come together, tumble over the edge simultaneously, Smoke with a blissful moan and Lesion mewling quietly.

It starts in his abdomen and spreads throughout his body, causes him to fold in half and pant against the cool surface of the table supporting him as he feels Smoke’s shaft pulsing inside. Reaching their climax at the same time is one of Lesion’s favourite things, they ride their high together, ride it out, move against each other in order to prolong the elating feeling gripping them both viciously. Smoke’s nails are digging into Lesion’s thighs painfully but it only sweetens the experience, sharpens it and reminds him of who he belongs to. The marks will stay for days. Until Smoke decides to leave new ones.

Once they’re beginning to come down, Smoke presses a kiss into his hair and starts cleaning them up, surprisingly gentle and loving in his touches and even ending with a tight hug Lesion gladly reciprocates. They calm down together, enjoying each other’s body heat.

And yet Lesion can’t help but possibly destroy their little moment: “That was a little too close for my taste.”

Smoke withdraws a tad so he can shoot him a questioning look. “Really? You seemed to like it though.”

Well. He hesitates, sparking a wide grin.

“You did. Tze Long, I didn’t know you were into this as much as I am. Does that mean we can finally make use of that one locker properly, while the others are changing?”

“We’re doing none of the sort.”

“Are you sure? Then you should probably never hold a meeting again because oh boy.” Lesion blinks at him in confusion, even more so when his lover turns a beautiful shade of pink. “Look. I didn’t know I had a competence kink either, okay? But when you address everyone so sternly, it’s just -”

He trails off, making a vague gesture which conveys everything and nothing, but Lesion gets it. And if this isn’t fantastic ammunition for him to use later. “You didn’t even look at me while I did my report”, he feels obliged to point out and is overcome with a special kind of glee when Smoke’s blush deepens.

“If I had, I’d have been drooling. But actually, I wanted to talk about how this still isn’t full payback for -”

Instead of letting Smoke switch topics, Lesion simply interrupts him with a kiss, trying hard not to let his smirk show.

He knows he’s doomed and incapable of saying no to this self-important, thoughtful, moronic bastard – but at least he knows for a fact it goes both ways.

#rainbow six siege #smoke #lesion #smoke/lesion #fanfic #oneshot #commissions #they're both little shits but they're little shits TOGETHER #with their combined knowledge they could probably destroy the earth #fortunately they focus on challenging each other to dumb bets

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zebraslovescupcakestoo · 5 years

Text

Lucky (BBTIM AU)

This is a story about two boys named Mickey Disney and Bendy DeMon. Both who are different from each other, yet shared almost the same lives...

Early morning, he wakes up.

Knock, knock, knock on the door. (Boom boom boom!)

The first boy was woken with a smile by his early morning, blue bird friend he named Toppins who he chirped cutely from the window. They were morning buddies since he helped the little one from his fallen nest on one windy day.

The second boy was unamused by the ringing alarm clock on his night table. Yet he wasn't shy for using a hammer that he carved the 'silencer' on the handle and smashed it into pieces with rage. At least it makes his mornings feeling more 'tolerable.'

It's time for fresh up, perfect smile.

It's who they are waiting for.

After they got out of bed, they do their morning, cleaning hygiene and dress up routine.

Mickey quickly got down the stairs and went straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for three. Him, his big brother and Toppins. It was his turn today to make it and he was pretty good with cooking, maybe not like his brother but at least he doesn't burn the toasts or the eggs. It was a simple but a neatly well balanced breakfast with the usual lightly buttered toasts, scrambled eggs, fresh cut strawberries, blue berry muffins and his brother's favorite banana-blueberry pancakes. He even got whole grains bread and made it into crumbs for his blue little friend too!

Bendy just sluggishly dragging his knuckles on the floor into the dinning hall. Despite he wished he hasn't used a lot of energy on that alarm clock, he doesn't regret it. He sat on the dinning table and lay his head on it to catch up some shut eye. But that 'Just a few more minutes' turned 'Never mind! I can do it at my office job!' once he heard Boris coming out with a trolley filled with the 'simple' breakfast feast for today. There was monkey-bread danish, cinnamon-sugared waffles, cinnamon rolls with a delicious looking frosting, New Orleans style beignets, chocolate filled croissant and a tall glass of tomato juice. For health reasons. He was pleased that his partner was very thoughtful....

After breakfast, they went straight to work!

They go: Isn't he lucky? This Hollywood boy.

And they say...

Mickey arrived at his father animation studio for another day of animated work. He loved to draw since he was little and he was talented too. He was everybody's favorite person to talk, hang out, and even asking for help. Granted! At first, everybody thought he was going to be a brat since his father owns the business, but they were wrong. He was like the nicest guy at work like his cartoon counter part! Sometimes he even got asked if they wanted him over at lunch break to have a friendly chat. Despite he really wanted to, he politely declined since he wanted to reserved that as a little 'bro time' with Oswald.

Bendy went to work in his Joey Drew Studio the Third. He was greeted by his subordinates making a welcoming bow as their usual morning routine. Anyone who works there knew the rules when Bendy is 'in' for work. He runs a tight ship aside a really awful tyrant attitude. Despite they get pair very well, it was a literal nightmare working under him. They worked for double time cause he wanted them twelve episodes up on time in less than four days, sometimes one of them is being used as a ottoman for his feet, and sometimes he fired some people and he keeps their pay as a choice. You either live without it or die with it were the options. He was one of the perfect example of a spoiled brat. His father was the original owner and then his uncle Henry took over until he bought it from him. All they can do is try not to suck in his presence or say anything awful about him.

But to these two, it was only their 'public' image only 'they' knew.

He's so lucky, he's a star.

...Yet only the very few knew the 'real' person behind those masks they wear.

But he cry, cry, cries in his lonely heart, thinking:

If there's nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?

In the afternoon, it was a bit different for each day depending on the week. Yet they would always find time for their favorite big bros!

Mickey would make sure that he would finish all his work for today before he can go see his big brother at their amusement park his father wanted to open soon. Nobody knows much about him apart he's related to himself, but he wanted to be there for him and always make sure he gets noticed whenever he gets the chance. He always look up to him since they were little and he was the reason why he didn't became one of those spoiled rich kids and was very considerate to other people. He's also multi-talented like him, but different.

Mickey was charismatic, enthusiastic and has a very positive personality. Oswald was mysterious, serious and realistic type. But they were thick as thieves and they try their best to see in each others perspectives whenever they had a minor argument. But apart from that, Mickey knew one of his big brother's hidden talent and not so much of a secret that he never shared to anyone.

Ever since they were hearing the newest upstart singer Elvis Presley, Oswald was an instant fan! He got all of his vinyls songs up to date, he was doing those signature dance moves and best of all, he was a really good singer! Oh, did he forgot to mentioned that he can play the guitar too? He switched from piano. He was deeply touched on his birthday when Mickey got him the Elvis style jacket in his favorite color.

He arrived at the attraction and he spotted him working on those bumper cars. He wanted to greet him until he spotted a couple of his mechanical friends that beat him to it and he quickly hid behind the cotton candy machine. It's not that he didn't like them, it's just that every time he comes in his group of friends, they somewhat ignored his brother's presence for the whole conversations and that bothers him. So at the very least, he wanted to let him have some meaningful conversation in his co-working buddies without any 'huge' distraction like himself. The small talk didn't last much long but it seems like they were in good mood. After they left, he got out of his hiding spot and meet up with him.

Bendy was a bit picky on how he spends his afternoons. Depending on the week days, he was a 'busy' guy.

Today, he was going to revisit the CEO of an ice cream company named Frezzies Treatsies. He wanted to make some Bendy special treats for his promotional business tactics in the 'public' industry. He wanted those Bendy ans Boris shaped ice cream sandwiched with their best of the best they've got. He had taste tested their sample before and he paid a very good price for it too. Until that sonavagun cheated out of their deal and it tasted like icy sand with half-descent cream fillings when he received the first batch 'samples.'

When that happened, he calls his big guns and his best man, Boris Wolfenstein. He's the only person in this world that he would care from whatever he's got left in him. He was there at his worst and he deserves 'only' the best after him.

They LOVE to greet their business partners in these cases with a surprise, a friendly greeting, talking like gentlemen and find a solution to the problem...

By that I mean they kick down the door of the CEO, yelled 'F*k you, you double crossing sonavab!tch!,' beat the crap out of the guy until he's left breathing and told him to get their next year supply orders for what they've originally agreed on with half the price or they'll cut him up and fit into one of those smaller ice cream tubs!

Bendy always like to let Boris do most of the beating... it's like watching an skillful pottery artist making something out of a lump of clay but different...

Both boys love to spend their quality time with their favorite older brother.

Lost in an image, in his dream

But there's no one there to wake him up.

After work, they both had the evening to spend their time.

Mickey wished he didn't agreed to replace his father in a special interview that moment cause he wanted to help Oswald with their 'special' project, despite he said that he was alright to do it by himself for the evening. It may been a request by his father, but he still wished he could have picked a different evening, but he guessed it's all ready been done with him in his best tuxedo night and all freshen up for the shoot.

The interview went pretty well and the guy who was there was really swell. He told him all about his personal life and how's it going right now. He was even happier when he told on one of the stories about his older brother.

One time when he was ten, he was being pick on by a few kids that made fun of his unusual signature bun curls. At first he just brushes them off until they repeated the teasing everyday whenever he goes out in the public and it bothers him. His brother found that out and he told him to say to them that he was just made extra special and that they were just jealous.

However, he left out in the interview the other part that his brother told him that if they keep picking on him, he wanted him to say: 'My brother can eliminate you punks in one brawl because he's a black belt!'

Bendy's evenings is also varies depending the day.

He would have some spare time to read today's paper or watching some television. Mostly the news.

He's not really interested on events or the weather forecasts, what he's REALLY interested is BAD news. Because he's an entropy fan and he loves misery especially when it involves death.

He doesn't care about politics unless it's one of those nincompoops that's going against him, nor the news about a baby animal being born at the zoo unless it's something useful like an alligator, a lion or any meat eating animal that's going to help him dispose 'dead meats,' he wanted to see the whole world crash and burn! If it happened in THIS town he would call out to Boris and said: Let's go look for the bodies!

So far there's only the 'good' news on the television for tonight, pity. He turns it off and reads the papers instead. Which he instantly regret cause there was a picture of that ace detective rival, Felix Cat.

In THIS section and what it was told, Felix has successfully stopped one of his secret 'personal' smuggling drugs for his 'other' job and that was the third time he busted his hide out! He gritted his teeth as he crumbled the morning paper into a ball and tosses it in the fireplace.

“Stupid @$$, street cat, money loosing, ace defective, motherf#kr!” He cussed out as he took out a pack of match, light up the stick and tosses it in the fireplace to watch it burned to crisp in a matter of seconds. At least the sight of something burning lifted his mood a bit...

At least until later for tonight... he smug an idea of what to do.

And the world is spinning, when he keeps on winning.

But tell me, what happens when it stops?

At night, they were different from the public view... if they knew.

Mickey and Oswald were vigilantes for justice. They wanted to help the victims from the injustice. Since they were the future CEOs of the Disney Animations, they have access to the elites and wealthy businessmen that gave them the advantages of knowing their 'enemies' and their money safe.

On one occasion, they robbed the wealthy crooks to give back to the poor. Another was to take down a group of thugs that causes troubles for their neighborhood.

Mickey's special paints he crafted can make wondrous things. How it was possible and how he created it was his secret...

His older brother Oswald, was an inventor extraordinaire. He crafted most of their weaponry and he also just made two motorcycles just for their operations with the help of his little brother.

Their code names were Souris and Lapin. The media and the press called them the modern day Robin Hood or one of the comic book super heroes. Either way, they were very well praised by the public.

Bendy was then switched to the mafia boss.

On tonight's schedule, he was going to visit the 'mold.' A.K.A. One of the authorities of the law enforcements. He got a tip from the inside that there was some evidence against him and he decided to get rid of it.

Once that was done, he went to the abandoned docks and immediately made a bonfire to get rid of the evidence. This place was an ideal spot for getting away with almost anything, including a self-made fire pit with an old barrel. Anyone with a half of brain would be smart enough not to even go here...

Unless you have been on a hit man’s shopping list.

There was a gang of five guys... Nothing special to them aside they were armed... He had experience under his belt to tell that they are freshmen from a rival mafia. Either it was an order, a death wish, or it was just to please their bosses and go up in their ranks the 'easy' way. Pitiful.

Seems he needs to 'teach' them who's in charge and who not to mess with. Not that he planned to let them lived, it did makes him 'smile' from his mood earlier this evening...

They go: Isn't he lucky? This Hollywood boy.

And they say...

Mickey and his brother Oswald were just out on parole to look out a certain biker group that causes trouble at their favorite soda shop they liked to go when they have their day off. Not only that, it was popular among the kids and people alike. They spotted them outside of the shop, grafting the widows and walls with disturbing images...

Mickey MAY have done this in the past, but he doesn't write offensive languages and paint naked women with his art work...

“I knew this is going to bite me in the rear one day... but at least I can become a better person.” He then took out a paint grenade and tosses it at the center of the gang. One of then noticed it and just before he was going to say something, it exploded and all of the purple liquid surrounded their feet have glued them down. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't break free of their situation.

The three guys were unable to escape from their sticky situation. Which is exactly what it was supposed to do. At least until you add water to disperse it... but he's not gonna tell that to them. Then they leaped out from their shadows with their paint guns readied and they unload a round of paint balls at them. It stung them a bit with their green and yellow colored 'bullets' but the hooligans smelled something weird from them... it didn't took them long to realized they were knock out gas as they passed out on the purple glue.

They both high five as they celebrated another peace keeping victory of the night.

Bendy have made the first move with a quick draw from his knives hidden from his left sleeves. He turned from his left side and swing his left arm to throw his knives at the group. Only four of them hit the foreheads... Leaving the last one standing. Meh! He though. He smirked at his remaining visitor with his glowing red eyes and it made the newbie petrified, even though he already had his pistol drawn.

He then rapidly launched himself forward and it made the newbie shoot him. Unfortunately for him, Bendy was trained to dodge bullets and he's showing the soon-to-be departed newbie who you should NEVER mess with without paying a heavy price. Bendy then took out his signature knife, the Red Velvet, as his finishing weapon. He sliced it upwards to take out the gun and then he quick jabbed multiple times to the abs and stomach, sending more gushing blood on his cheap outfit. At least he was the smarter one with experience AND fashion sense. He took a step back to let him drop on his right knee while he struggled to breathe.

“When you reached the gates of h3ll, say hello to my pops for me once you've met him.” He then grabbed a fist full of his back hair, pulls him back and then slowly slid deep his throat. The sound of his final blood-curling scream is his king of music to his ears... Aside from Boris' clarinet pieces.

Once he stops moving, he then lets go of his head as it hit the pavement and then watched more blood that is now coming out of his body. Such a satisfying site to see after a little work out, for him. He then noticed his loyal right hand man along with three others who were 'volunteered' as escorts, or extra security, came rushing in with some blood stains on them.

Guess that explains why these insects came to him under Boris' watchful eye, but then again like he stated, he had a swell time!

He's so lucky, he's a star.

Once they got back home to their bedrooms, they revealed their 'true' image that nobody wanted them to see.

Both of them took a huge yet quiet sigh of relief and frowned... Both of them got in their jammies... and then slid into bed.

After a long day of work, day and night, they then took out from their secret compartment that's hidden from anyone who knew them. Both of them... had an old picture frame. Of their prime teenage year at a local pizzaria.

But he cry, cry, cries in his lonely heart, thinking:

If there's nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?

Both of them stared at the picture group for quite some time.

Weather you believed it or not, both these boys were once a trio along with Oswald. Both used to be good friends from one another.

“Why did you had to be this way?” Mickey sadly whispered at Bendy's image.

“Why did you abandoned me for something I was trained to do?” Bendy angrily scoffed at the Disney brother's faces.

He is so lucky! But why does he cry?

“We used to be best of friends... We were so similar in a way and... You were like a second brother to us.” Mickey tried to find the good in him.

“I thought I could trust you two... Have someone who I can relate... At least have a backbone to do the impossibles like I could have done only better!” Bendy tried to be detached of his true feelings.

If there is nothing missing in his life, why do tears come at night?!

“Why did you do it? Why did you broke that no-kill policy under our team name? That man didn't deserved it!” Mickey then started to sob a bit.

“I was a fool to think you knew better. You both knew I was already in a mafia family! You both knew they came before you two rodents! I had to leave no witness that night! You don't know me THAT well, just like the other living miserable worms!” Bendy silently lashes out at them.

Then they had enough. They placed it back in their secret compartments before their emotions escalated more than it should.

He's so lucky, he's a star!

They then broke down in tears.

But they cry, cry cries in their lonely hearts thinking...

They were upset.

Mickey thought of many reasons why Bendy had to do it. He knew that he was part of a mafia family. He knew that he always had a sneaky yet a dark sense of humor. He used to trust him so easily, like a true friend would.

Bendy also was thinking of the reasons why they did left him alone. He knew long ago about Mickey as a child star at the age of nine until he met him and his brother personally. He was to be honest, was happy that they had a wild knack of sense of humors similar to his. He did too, used to trust them like a true friend.

If there's nothing missing in their life...

And now after that faithful night, their thrusts were shattered and their bonds were broken.

Mickey was heartbroken and was in a depressed state once they've returned to California. It took almost a week to convince himself, along side with his brother, father and some of his animation friends from their family's studio to move on.

After that incident, he was more careful of who he wanted to be friends with. He wasn't gonna turned pessimistic over everybody just for that one incident, but he will be more cautious like his brother would be on who to trust from now on.

Bendy was also heartbroken but angry instead. It took him about a week too, but he was in Boris' care after they learned what happened between them. (Because only Boris can calm him down.) He even took more jobs that's normally preferred to the other lowly members, but Bendy said that he needed to vend out his 'frustrations.' In truths, he was just finding ways to keep 'them' off his mind....

Once he was 'over with it,' he was determined not to be emotionally vulnerable like that again. He would never trust any new comers until they've proven themselves to him and also, he would never let anyone who had similar 'interests' be his 'acquaintances' on the spot. Also, they will be shot on his site if ever they did left him like they did.

Why do these tears come at night?

After they cried their eyes out, they fell asleep. They knew that nothing that they can do now can change the past. What's been done it's done. They learned their adult lessons in a hard way, but they did find a solution that fits both of them.

It's not that they took that photo out every night, but they've kept it as a memento of the good times they used to have and why they needed to be stronger as a person.

“Tomorrow's another day...” Bendy said before he sleeps.

“Maybe one day, it will be better.” Mickey cheered himself up before he too sleeps off.

He's so lucky, he's a star!

But he cry, cry, cries in their lonely hearts thinking:

If there's nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?

-----AUTHOR’S NOTES------

It’s been almost three months since I’ve started to write this one shot. Mainly due to work and lack of motivations.... And updates, youtube, and other stuff...

The Song was from an early 2000′s music era. back when they still had some good songs and one of early Britney Spears’ songs titled Lucky.

The music video depicted about how one girl despite seemingly having it all – fame, wealth, beauty – is truly lonely and unhappy on the inside. So I imagine how Bendy and Mickey would feel the same way in a manner of daily lives they live at the moment.

If I wrote it incorrectly of their characters, I’m sorry. If you had a hard time understanding the fighting situation, I’m sorry for that too cause I suck on combat explanations.

I was just as curious on the canon story line of how Bendy, Mickey and Oswald met and why are they on rocky terms at the moment. The only info I’ve gotten were from pasts question posts and arts. Maybe in the later chapters I might get a better picture of their relations.

Anyways, this is just an AU of the BBTIM AU, It’s non canon but it’s just a pass time until the next comic pages are up.

BBTIM characters like humanized Mickey and Bendy belongs to Marini4.

#bendy before the ink machine #bendy and the ink machine #humanized #bendy #mickey #Mickey Mouse #fanfiction #oswald the lucky rabbit #oswald #boris the wolf #boris #marini4

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andrewdburton · 3 years

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How to set SMART Goals (and win BIG this year)

Let’s be honest: people suck at goal setting.

Even when we really want to do something, we have a hard time achieving it.

(Need proof? Just consider that the vast majority of New Year’s resolutions fail by February.)

But, it’s not our fault. Nobody teaches us how to really achieve what we set out to do. They don’t teach us how to make smart objectives.

Fortunately, there are other ways to set goals so that you can actually achieve them.

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Examples of turning bad goals to good goals

EXAMPLE #1: HEALTH

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I want to get fit.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to lose 10lbs.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to eat 3 healthy meals per week and go to the gym 2x/week for 15 minutes.”

Notice how we’re focusing on the process at first, and starting off conservative: Anyone can eat just 3 healthy meals in a week. And anyone can go to the gym for 15 minutes. Set yourself up to win.

Here’s how this looks for other big goals:

EXAMPLE #2: FINANCES

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I need to get better with money.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to save $1,000 this year.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to have $40 per paycheck automatically transferred to my vacation savings fund for 1 year.”

EXAMPLE #3: SOCIAL SKILLS

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I want to have better social skills.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to work on my storytelling so I’m not so awkward at parties.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to take the improv class in my city every Monday night for 6 weeks.”

There’s a simple formula for transforming big goals into actionable steps…

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What are SMART goals?

SMART goals are the cure for vague, aimless New Year’s resolution goals like:

“I want to go to the gym every day.”

“I want to get rich.”

“I want to travel more.”

On the surface, they all seem like good goals. However, they fall prey to the big three sins of goal-setting:

They unspecific. Sure, you “want to travel more,” but what does that really mean? When are you going to get it done? Where are you going to go? Vagueness is the enemy of good goal-setting.

Setting a SMART goal will help you avoid all of these pitfalls. Let’s breakdown how to do it.

SMART Objectives are:

Specific

Measurable

Attainable

Relevant

Time-oriented

So how do you convert a goal like “get fit” into a SMART objective?

I created this checklist to use every time you have a new goal.

Checklist for writing a SMART Objective

Specific: What is the precise outcome I’m looking for?

What will you achieve?

What does it look like? (What do you see in your mind when you picture yourself working towards your goal?)

What is the action step?

Measurable: How will I know I’ve accomplished the goal?

You need to be able to answer the question, “Did I get it done? If not, how much further do I have to go?”

How will you know when it is done?

What are some objective benchmarks you can hit along the way?

Would someone else be able to tell that it’s complete?

Is it quantifiable?

Attainable: How realistic is this goal?

Are there available resources to achieve the objective?

Do you need a gym membership, a new bank account, new clothes?

Am I set up to do this even when I don’t have “motivation”?

Are there any time or money constraints that need to be considered? Am I being too ambitious to start out? (Remember you can always be more aggressive with your goal later on.)

Relevant: Is this a priority in my life right now?

Why am I doing this?

Is this a priority for me?

Will it compete with other goals in my life?

Time-oriented: When will I be finished with the goal?

Give yourself a deadline to reassess your goal. And put it on the calendar! I like to re-evaluate my goals every 3-months to make sure they are still Attainable and Relevant.

Is there a deadline?

Did I put it on the calendar?

Will I know in 3 months if I’m on the right track?

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SMART Goal Examples

Using this framework, you’ll be able to turn any vague lofty goal into an actionable SMART goal.

For instance:

Bad goal: “I want to be healthier.”

Why it’s bad: It’s vague and not measurable. How do you know when you’re healthier?

SMART goal: “I want to eat three low-fat, low-calorie meals per week and go to the gym at least once a week.”

Now do the same for your goal. How can you make it specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-oriented?

Actually achieve your goals with habit loops

Once you’ve set a SMART goal, habits are the systematized solution to making sure you follow through and actually achieve your goal.

According to Charles Duhigg, habit expert and author of The Power of Habit, every habit you build has three parts to it:

Cue. This is the trigger for a behavior.

Routine. This is the behavior in action.

Reward. This is the benefit you receive from the behavior.

Altogether, this creates something called a “Habit Loop,” which allows your habits to stick.

And at the heart of any good Habit Loop is a good reward. In fact, it might just be the most important aspect of building good habits.

That’s because it has the biggest impact on whether or not we stick with the behavior.

Let’s take a look at an example: Working out.

A typical approach to this might look like this:

You go to the gym.

You work out on the machines for 30 minutes.

You go home.

Here’s what it would look like if you implemented the Habit Loop:

Cue. You head to the gym when you wake up.

Routine. You work out at the gym.

Reward. You get a delicious breakfast when you’re done.

See the difference? One will likely result in you giving up the habit after a few weeks (or even days), while the other greatly boosts your chances because you’re rewarded for your behavior.

It subverts having to rely on willpower, because you reward yourself for achieving your goals.

THAT’S the power of a good reward.

Of course, it can work negatively for you as well. For example, smoking cigarettes.

A habitual, pack-a-day smoker is someone who has ingrained a Habit Loop that causes them to smoke cigarettes. Here’s what that Loop looks like:

Cue. You wake up, or it’s lunch time, or work just got done, or you’re stressed — most anything can be a cue for smokers.

Routine. You smoke a cigarette.

Reward. You receive a euphoric buzz from nicotine.

Bonus Tip: Use a Commitment Device

A commitment device is a method of locking yourself into a habit or behavior that you might otherwise not want to do.

And there are essentially two types of commitment devices:

For example:

Listening to your favorite podcast while you work out.

Watching a show on Netflix while you clean your living room.

Drinking your favorite soda while you’re washing your dishes.

For example:

Telling a friend that you’ll give them $100 if you don’t go to the gym every day for a month.

Unplugging your television so you won’t be tempted to watch it.

Throwing away all of your junk food in order to eat healthily.

Build habits for life

To accomplish any goal, you need to establish good habits.

To help you crush any goal you set out for yourself, we want to offer you something we’ve worked on to get you there:The Ultimate Guide to Habits: Peak Performance Made Easy

In it, you’ll learn the actionable steps to crush any goal through smart habits, including:

How to set goals — the RIGHT way

How to create and implement winning keystone habits

How to make any habit last forever

Just enter your name and email below and I’ll send it straight to your inbox.

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How to set SMART Goals (and win BIG this year) is a post from: I Will Teach You To Be Rich.

from Finance https://www.iwillteachyoutoberich.com/blog/smart-objectives/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

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