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candychronicles · 3 years

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red room // y. inasa

A/N: my take on the bnharem sex workers collab! so excited to write for inasa. he’s an incredibly underrated character and all i hope is that one person likes this lol

CHARACTER PAIRING: Yoarashi Inasa x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,735

WARNINGS: oral (m!receiving), sex work, just some good ol fashioned safe, consensual sex

SYNOPSIS: a lucrative encounter with a group of pro heroes leads to an unlikely relationship.

want to read more goodies? head on over here!

loud music blared over the speakers as you sashayed your way through the back stage. it was a crowded night and you were itching to get on stage and make some money. usually, you got good tips just by shaking your hips in your scantily clad body but the real cash was private events. it was especially rewarding when pro heroes, such as the ones who sat in the private VIP section, joined the club. that was when you made the most dough.

your set was announced and before people could prepare themselves you sauntered on stage, false confidence oozing out of you. you never really loved your job for this aspect, nor did you think you did great in front of a crowd, but you had been faking it your whole life and it came in handy when you walked across the platform, twirling around the sleek metal bar in the center of the stage.

slowly, your gaze raked across the people in the bar, eyes narrowed into slits, a small smirk across your face. you lazily dragged your hand up your body and across your chin, letting it fall to the pole. gripping the metal, you twirled your body around once, twice, three times before jumping up, entwining your legs around it and letting your head fall back, hair cascading towards the floor. you spent the next five minutes tantalizingly moving about the area. slinking to the floor towards the end of your set, you pushed your breasts together as you tucked the tips from the greedy men in between them, sliding the rest in the waist of your sequined panties. with one small wave, you pulled yourself off the ground and sauntered back behind the stage.

it had only been a few minutes of you counting your money in the dressing room before one of the bar maids had flagged you down, letting you know one of the VIP sections was asking for you. a cheshire grin made its way across your face as you realized that this could be the big money you were after for the night.

“well hello boys, how are we tonight?” you cooed, sliding into the seat next to a rather uncomfortable looking guy with striking red and white hair.

a man of intensely large stature sat in the middle, a few older men surrounding him in the semi-circle booth. across from you sat another guy your age: tall with buzzed hair and looking as equally uncomfortable as the man sitting next to you.

“we were very intrigued by your performance,” the large man in the middle stated. when he leaned forward, you recognized him as the former number one pro hero Endeavor. despite his size, you weren’t intimidated. you may have not had a lot of confidence with large crowds, but when it came to working a group, you could get them wrapped around your finger with a little bat of your eyelashes.

this collective was no different than the rest. a few jokes to the ones who were uncomfortable, chagrin smiles to the ones who just wanted some entertainment and some well placed compliments and they were putty in your hands. Endeavor spent most of the time sloshing his drink around and bragging about his accomplishments back in the day. you had found out that the guy sitting next to you was his son and they did not seem to get along very well. while you had spent time verbally praising the former number one hero, you secretly whispered jokes and jabs to the dynamic man next to you, allowing him to loosen up and even smile.

when the session had finished, you were tipped heavily. some sloppy cheek kisses were exchanged and you had thought that had been the end of it, a thick wad of cash in your hands, when Endeavor had spoken up once more.

“Inasa, you haven’t said one word to this pretty young lady. she’s spent her time here all for us and you disrespect her like this?” he chided, but his words were laced with something else, something sharp.

“a private room might change your mind, perhaps? you’ve barely looked at anyone here or even touched your drink. i suggest you change your act after this is over.”

you felt bad for the fellow, you really did, but when Endeavor, Enji, he told you to call him, pulled out a stack so large you didn’t even know if you could fit your hand around it, you accepted immediately. you were going to make sure he had the time of his life one way or another.

you placed your hand gently on his shoulder and he jumped, his skin crawling underneath your touch. you didn’t let it phase you though as you guided him towards the private room, your hand coming to clasp around his, twirling yourself as you giggled. he looked like he was going to be sick, face clammy and eyes darting everywhere but your body.

when you had finally sat him down in the cushy couch, he burst.

“i’m so sorry miss, i’m trying really hard to be respectful and not look at you. i’m not interested in this at all, so if you could please just let me go, i’d really appreciate it.”

you blinked at him, cocking your head before howling, hands clutching at your stomach as you listened to him continue to babble.

“are you not into women? it’s okay if you’re not, i’m happy to sit here but your friend paid a great amount of money for you to be in here and if i want to keep getting that money i have to at least do my job and make you stay the full hour.”

“oh no no that’s not it at all. in fact, i find you very attractive. i just, i don’t like these sorts of establishments. not that they’re bad in any way, oh no, your profession is quite admirable, it’s just that i prefer to have a connection before engaging in anything flirtatious and physical. though i have been told that it is easy for me to make friends and i guess that’s true, so maybe we will be friends by the end of this and it won’t be a total waste, but it’s…”

you cut him off with your hand, flabbergasted at his ramblings.

“i’m happy to just talk and i’m happy to make friends. so tell me about yourself then.”

you sat down opposite him, sinking into the soft plush as you listened to him ramble about his life: where he went to school, when he met Shouto Todoroki, how he became a pro hero, how he landed the job at Endeavor’s agency and how he had ended up across from you in the burgundy room. you listened with rapt attention, nodding sympathetically when he expressed struggles, giving little whoops and cheers when he explained his victories and just generally murmuring along to his story.

when the time was up, you stood up and walked over to him.

“is it okay if i sit down?” you questioned, motioning to his lap.

he looked you up and down as if you had three heads but leaned back, palms placed firmly on the plush seating. you giggled at his actions but proceeded nonetheless, popping buttons open on his shirt, rustling up his clothes and placing a big kiss on his cheek for good measure.

“don’t want your boss thinking you chickened out on him,” you teased. “it was great meeting you Inasa. it’s not every day i get a gentleman as kind as you coming in. i do hope i get to see you again, if only to listen to more of your stories. take care of yourself and stay safe.”

you stood up and opened the door, motioning for him to step out and walk down the hall back to his booth. he watched you for a moment, enraptured by your actions, before he quickly turned around and practically sprinted down the hall. you heard the whoops and hollers of the men as he returned back to his seat and you smiled, satisfied with the heavy weight of cash in your hand.

---

the next night of working started out the same. a few sets with some decent tips, but you had little luck when it had come to private dances and you greatly missed the generous tips from the booth the night before. just when you had thought luck ran out for you though, a familiar buzzed head darted nervously around, seemingly looking for someone.

“are you lost handsome? never thought i’d see you here again, let alone so soon.”

relief flooded his eyes and before you got a chance to tease him for it, he had pulled out a stack of money equally as large as the night before.

“you know you don’t have to pay me that much for an hour.”

“will this cover the rest of the night?”

you didn’t even have to look at the stack to know it would cover a whole week's worth of private dances if he wanted. wordlessly, you took the money from him and led him to your private room. this time you brought in snacks and drinks, choosing to sit on the lavish carpet instead, cocooning yourself with pillows.

“so what do you want to talk about this time?” you asked, spurring him on to talk about his latest adventures.

things took a turn for the worst when, an hour in, he became visibly upset.

“i feel like this is wrong,” he confessed, eyes darting to scantily clad figure, teeth clenching as he attempted to calm himself.

“this is my work. i don’t feel degraded, i feel empowered. people are paying me for my services, whether they be innocent or not. i choose what i get to do with my body and how. nobody else can control me. i’m happy to be anything to anyone and i must confess that talking to you has been the highlight of both nights. it’s a gentle reprieve from everything else but at the end of the day this is a job and i don’t feel demeaned by it, so please don’t treat me like i’m some abused puppy.”

after that argument, his body visibly relaxed. it didn’t really matter exactly what made him relax but it did lead to a much more enjoyable night. when everything was over, you left him with a kiss, pinching his cheeks with your hand as you led him out for the second night in a row.

you had a day off, choosing to enjoy your excess money by splurging on some new items you wanted but when you came in the next day, he was there waiting, a wad of cash in one hand and a bag of something in the other.

“a private room for the whole night?” you questioned, not waiting for his response as you took the cash out of his hand and grabbed his tie, leading him to your room once more.

when he sat down across from you, he pulled out his own snacks and drinks, claiming he needed to pay you back for the night before. you shrugged your shoulders as you dug in, chatting the night away, laughing and enjoying yourself much more than you should for him just being a client.

“Inasa, while i don’t mind you spending exorbitant amounts of money on me every night, i’ve got to ask, why are you here? why do you come just to chat all night? do you not have friends or family?”

his eyebrows furrowed, mouth forming a harsh line before he stated, “i do but nobody treats me the way you do. nobody treats me like i’m, well, nobody. i don’t claim to be the number one pro hero, but i am fairly popular, and the fact that you sit across from me chatting and listening to my stories like i’m an old friend and not some big shot with money makes me feel different.”

you pondered the thought for a moment, not realizing how taxing it could be to have so many eyes on you all at once. while you felt sympathetic, you still didn’t understand why he paid you so much for just one night. was he afraid you wouldn’t accept the normal rate? was he trying to remain professional despite the lines already being blurred?

“listen, Inasa, while I don’t mind you doing this, we can be friends outside of work. you don’t have to pay me for just talking, at least while i’m not here. this is my job and i’d like it to remain somewhat professional. i won’t be leaving for any person, any relationship, any amount of money, because i find dignity and excitement in doing so. if that’s something that doesn’t bother you, then let’s finish the night off and if you’d like to see me, we can go get coffee or something, yeah? the most i’ll let you pay is for the drinks themselves.”

he nodded his head firmly, agreeing to see you for coffee, but something seemed off still. you tried to keep the conversation going, throwing candy at his face and cracking jokes but he remained somewhat stoic still.

“alright buttercup, what’s wrong?” you questioned, frowning when he looked up at you.

“you find dignity in this job, it doesn’t bother you to be sexual with someone in any manner for a certain price, and you don’t look down on anyone who engages with you sexually?”

you nodded your head at his questions, looking at him quizzically as he processed the information.

“would you look down on me if i asked you for something like that?”

ah, so that was the big question. it would take a fool for someone to not realize how he had looked at you, how his gazes got more bold and as he shifted, holding a pillow in his lap as you laid lavishly across the fluffy carpet. you felt stupid for not realizing sooner that that was what he wanted, but with a satisfied smile, you shook your head no.

“it’s my job and you are my client. you have paid me well, way more than i would ask for anything like this. i don’t see it as weird or uncomfortable. we do have some ground rules to lay if you’re interested though.”

you spent the next few minutes explaining safe sex, STDs, condoms, rules and boundaries for the scene and safe words in case anything got out of hand. he sat listening with rapt attention, soaking in every word you said and engaging in the conversation maturely and respectfully. when everything was said and done, you pulled out your contract, having him sign, agreeing with all that you had said.

“i don’t know if i can do this. i feel like this is wrong. not because you do but because i like you and i know this is just a job for you and wow i shouldn’t have done this.”

“relax Inasa, i’ll take care of you. and if it gets too much, don’t forget to use your safeword.”

he clenched the seat next to him as you straddled his lap, taking his face into your hands as you etched all the little scars littering the skin.

“it’s not every day i get to fuck a handsome guy like yourself,” you cooed. “is it okay if i kiss you? i don’t usually do that with clients but i think you’re an exception to the rule.”

he responded by surging forward, all inhibitions lost as his lips smashed into yours, hands reaching to pull you impossibly close to him. you squealed into the kiss but relished in the way he felt, the way his large body engulfed all your senses. you were definitely screwed, not only literally but mentally as well. you knew damn well that this was more than a client interaction and would lead to something potentially messy but right now you didn’t seem to care as you felt his hands grasp at your ass, squeezing and eliciting yet another moan from you. this time, he took advantage, his tongue delving into your mouth, exploring every inch of you.

“i need you Inasa,” you moaned, partially because it was true but also to spur him on, to continue to make him feel confident and satisfied.

“let me take care of you first,” he tried to insist, eyes blown wide at your lewd words, but you had other plans.

you shimmied out of your panties, sequins glittering in the dim red light, tossing them to the other side of the room before motioning for him to stand up, asking permission to take off his pants. when he nodded his head, you chided him, reminding him to use his words. all it took was a squeak of a “yes” for you to slowly pull his pants and boxers down, mouth absolutely drooling at the sight of his cock. he wasn’t the longest you had by any means but he was so incredibly thick you weren’t even sure if he could fit inside, but all you knew was that you wanted to be stuffed full.

you pushed him back onto the couch, dropping to your knees as you settled yourself between his thighs, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin. before you even had a chance to ask him if you could touch him, he was already begging, hand gently placed on your head as he struggled to remain calm.

you spent a few moments just admiring the way he breathed, how he moved, what got him twitching, before you began. a soft lick was placed on the underside of his shaft and he jumped, startled yet aroused at the soft feeling of your tongue on his dick. you licked once more, enjoying the way he reacted, before you took him fully into your mouth. he felt warm and heavy on your tongue and you did your best to take him all in, using your hand to pump the rest of him.

a languid pace was set, you appreciating the way he reacted to your touch but it wasn’t long before he was begging for more, his release being teased. you complied, wanting nothing more than to keep the customer happy, or so you told yourself. in reality, you were enjoying this much more than you could possibly explain.

it took only a few more minutes before he was bucking his hips into your mouth, spurting hot liquid down your throat. you swallowed every drop, sticking your tongue out to show him what you had done. he spent the next five minutes apologizing for not asking permission before doing that but you had shut him up by straddling his lap, your pussy grazing over his already hard again cock.

“want you s’bad Inasa. won’t you fuck me please?”

he sputtered and stammered, not believing this was happening but complying all the same. he quickly grabbed the condom and rolled it down on his shaft, careful not to rip anything. he slowly lifted you up before placing you down on his cock, enjoying the feeling of you sucking him in immediately.

it took an agonizing three minutes before he bottomed out. he had stretched you completely, filling you to the brim with his cock. you felt like you were going to burst at the seams with how full you were but it also felt so incredibly good.

“please move, wanna feel you inside of me,” you begged, throwing your head back and bouncing on your knees.

he complied once again without question, thrusting his hips up to meet your pace, setting a fast yet gentle tone to the scene. you gripped his shoulders with all your strength, attempting to steady yourself against his speed. moans and whines left your mouth at an obscene rate, your brain being fucked out of your body as he continued to stuff you over and over again.

when he realized he was close yet again, he licked his thumb before placing it experimentally against your clit. you bucked immediately into his touch, keening at the overwhelming sensation. setting a rate that matched his thrusts, he circled around the bud, applying just the right pressure to have tears leaking out of your eyes, feeling so overwhelmed by sensation of him and him alone.

“please, i want to cum, please,” you begged, this time putty in his hands as he continued to fuck you senseless.

“cum for me, please, i want to see it, want to see your pretty face as i make you cum.”

all it took was some added speed and pressure and a gentle grab to your chin with his other hand to have you come undone, eyes screwing shut as an intense wave of pleasure rushed over your body. he sputtered and thrusted a few more times before coming in the condom, his body instantly relaxing.

he spent the next few minutes bringing you down from your high, rubbing soothing circles on your back, having you drink some water and cleaning you from your own juices which were dribbling down your thighs. when he was finished, he pulled back on your underwear, careful of your now sore and throbbing cunt.

sitting down on the couch, you spread out, completely spent from just one fuck. never in your life had you had dick that good, the sheer care and intensity at which he screwed you sending you reeling as you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened.

looking at the clock, you realized his time was up. despite not wanting to see him go, you had to admit to yourself that you had a fun time and that this was something outside of a workplace situation.

“i-uh, your time is up now Inasa. i hope you had fun and had a satisfactory experience.”

“i did, a lot.”

“i hope to see you again soon,” you finally admitted, bringing your eyes up to stare at him, at his truly disheveled yet satisfied state. you didn’t want to get your hopes up, knowing that he paid for this and it was strictly professional, but when he uttered a question, you smiled, hoping that this would turn out to be an interesting time.

“so, uh, coffee soon?”

#inasa yoarashi #inasa x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #bnharem collab

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averagejoesolomon · 4 years

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I’m back, baby! Thanks for your patience. My house is a MESS, but Matthew continues to call out to me, so here’s another chapter of Full Circle. You can read the whole thing on Ao3.

Chapter Ten

This church is different from the one back home.

Back home it’s all warm woods and sparkling stained glass. It’s plush, burgundy carpet and a massive, golden organ that swallows an entire wall. Come Christmastime, the altar is overtaken by vibrant red poinsettias and come Easter, tulips and lilacs take their place. He walks in past a trickling baptismal fountain, and his mama spends the first twenty minutes chatting across the pews. Someone keeps the candles lit, even while he’s away.

The chapel at Fort Jackson feels more like an office than anything else. The gridded tile hangs low above his head and each chair folds up at the end of services. The air hasn’t flowed down here since the sixties, and the windows are made up of great, dense cubes of glass. Music stands act as podiums and a full sized American flag hangs flat against an otherwise bare wall. It’s clear that this room serves a number of different functions, converted weekly into a space of worship rather than acting as an uninterrupted place of God.

Matt doesn’t mind. Not one bit. When it comes to faith, he ain’t all too concerned with looks. It’s enough just to show up.

And he has. Shown up, that is. Every single week. There are a number of factors that contribute to his perfect attendance—an excuse to get out of Sunday morning cleaning, a really nice priest, the faint yet persistent fear that God Himself will smite Matt if ever he goes a single week without worship—but in the end, it’s just easy to be here.

In the chaotic, uncertain exhaustion that fuels Army Basic Training, religious service is a necessary familiarity. Maybe this church looks a little different, but they read the same gospels. They say the same prayers. He knows when to sit, when to stand, and what to say. It’s a slice of Nebraska, wedged in between the South Carolina skies, and he finds an unexpected comfort in it. What once felt like a chore is now a welcome routine. For the first time in his life, church comes as a desire, rather than an obligation.

He’s thankful for the quiet as he says his final prayers for the week. Peace of mind is such a rarity when he is constantly surrounded by soldiers. For one hour a week, he’s allowed to unwind, melt into his thoughts, and let the Big Guy handle things.

Although, it does seem like it’s been more than an hour. And maybe it is a little too quiet.

He peeks out over his palms, surprised to find that he’s the only man left standing—or kneeling, as the case may be. Around him, the chairs are all crooked and empty, his platoon long gone, and Matt looks up to see the priest at the front of the room. “Sorry, Father,” he says. “Got a little carried away.”

The priest smiles, studying next week’s scripture in his own stretch of welcome silence. “Take all the time you need.”

With that blessing, Matt decides to take just a few more minutes to wrap up his thoughts. He prays for his pops. He prays for his mama. And, in all truth, he prays a little bit for himself, too.

Fort Jackson is made to chew up recruits and spit out soldiers. It’s hard, in a purposeful way that trumps most of life’s accidental difficulties. He loses himself in the day-to-day exhaustion, stifled by the endless parade of soreness, and stiffness, and pain. So he prays, hoping beyond hope that it gets easier from here. He prays that confusion turns to confidence, and that sunrise starts to feel safe again.

God doesn’t answer. He ain’t usually one for immediate replies.

So Matt leaves his prayers to simmer, belatedly standing from his knees. He says his goodbyes to the Father with a promise to return the next week and carries an armful of chairs to their rack as he goes.

The stairway is short and familiar, worn at every edge with corners that are rarely cleaned. The railing is rusted and the carpet is long stained. It’s a narrow, forgotten corridor, lit only by a single window at its top. He skips every other step and his momentum carries him through as the door clatters beneath his palms. The air shifts from musky to crisp thanks to Sunday’s high noon.

Or, well, it would be crisp, if not for the smoke.

There’s plenty of guys who smoke back home, but it’s been weeks since Matt last encountered that thick stench of a burning cigarette. It’s enough to catch him fully off guard, until he spots Zeke leaned up against the chapel wall, lighter in hand and smoke barely blazing.

He rolls his eyes. “Some timing you have,” he says, words tight. “Right when I light one.”

Questions fill Matt’s mind quicker than he can say them, so instead they all come out as a singular, “What…?”

Zeke looks down at the little red pack in his hand, then offers it up. “Sorry, d’you want one?”

“No?”

“Is that a question, Morgan?”

“I’ve got a lot of questions.”

Zeke drops the smokes as if it’s somehow Matt’s loss, then slides them into his front pocket. “Probably for the best,” he says with a shrug. “You don’t want a drill sergeant catching that smell on you.”

“And you do?”

“I told you not to worry about me.”

Matt can’t help but laugh, even if he’s not quite sure where the humor comes from. Maybe it’s not humor at all. Maybe it’s something bigger, as he takes in the strangeness of the scene before him—Zeke sharing the company of dumpsters on an unkept hillside, avoiding the chapel entrance as though he feels a heat coming from it. Finally, one question bubbles up above the rest. “What are you doing out here?”

Zeke takes a long drag. Lets the smoke tumble back out in clouds. “Smoke break, Morgan,” he says. “And here I thought you were one of the more observant ones.”

“No,” Matt says. “I mean, what are you doing out here?”

He flicks a loose ember to the ground with an unintentional movement that’s been practiced dozens, hundreds, thousands of times. “Can’t have you out here alone, now can we?” he says. “You needed a battle buddy back to the barracks, and Montgomery is freakishly good at rock-paper-scissors.”

“Yeah, Monty’s freakishly good at everything.” But this is an answer to a question that everyone already knows. Matt’s far more interested in the ones that ain’t quite so obvious. “You could’ve waited inside.”

“I wanted to give you some privacy.”

“So instead you came out to the side of the building where no one could see you.”

“Well how else is a guy supposed to have a smoke around here?”

“He’s not.” The day’s readings preached forgiveness, and it is for this reason and this reason alone that Matt hasn’t already lost his temper. “Makes a guy wonder what else you might get up to when no one’s looking.”

Matt’s heard enough of the gospel to sense an angel’s wrath when he sees it. Zeke is far from angelic, but he seems to have ethereal fury tucked pretty securely in his back pocket. “It does make a guy wonder, doesn’t it?” he says. “Of course, it’s real easy to wonder about the wrong things, isn’t it, Morgan?”

It’s another steady huff of the cigarette, but this time, Zeke is smiling with the smoke as he sends a puff right into Matt’s face. Matt doesn’t give him any sort of satisfaction. “And just what in the Hell does that mean?”

There’s a moment of careful consideration before Zeke ultimately falls back to his spot against the wall. He takes one more hit of his cigarette before he tosses it to the ground and grinds it with the toe of his boot. “It means you don’t know half of what you think you do,” he says. “And the half you do know is the wrong half.”

“Is it in your blood to be cryptic as all get out, or is that just something you do for fun?”

“I’m walking away now.” True to his word, Zeke pops himself upright and starts down a path toward the barracks, wholly unconcerned with whatever it is Matt has left to say. “You can come with me now, or you can explain to the drill sergeants why you missed your afternoon cleaning shift.”

“I wasn’t done,” Matt calls out.

Zeke doesn’t break his stride. “No you’re not,” he says over his shoulder. “But I sure as fuck am.”

It reminds Matt of that very first day, filled with chaos and unease and more yelling than he had ever known. He’s slow to the start, and Zeke is already well ahead of him with no signs of slowing. Matt himself has never been much of a runner, but in that moment, as the sun beats down on them both, he realizes that Zeke absolutely is.

He adds a few more prayers to the list, hoping that God’s reach extends just a little bit farther outside of the chapel walls, and then he follows.

#Full Circle #Gallagher Girls #Matthew Morgan

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eremiphobic · 7 years

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i ended up writing a whole bunch of shit so its under a cut. cw for graphic nightmares and negative self talk and sexual assault i guess

I feel like all I talk about is my symptomology. It just takes up so much of my mental energy right now, trying to be mindful and identify symptoms and try to figure out what my non-elevated and non-depressed mood is, trying to counter my mood ramping up to keep myself more level so I don’t peak and crash. I spent most of high school in a hypomanic state, crashed into mostly depression, and I think I’ve been mostly mixed state ever since. It just feels so embarrassing? When I’m hypomanic and running around the house and just being hyper and talking really fast. Like I feel like I’m not funny or engaging just annoying and cringey. Fucking cringe culture or whatever has just put a name to a fear, of seeming like a fool or immature or whatever the fuck.

also I flossed my teeth today and now my teeth and gums hurt and it feels like my teeth are gonna fall out which I obviously know they won’t but still. all my dreams are lucid dreams except for the bad ones. I don’t think I ever know I’m dreaming when my teeth are falling out. in the dreams I always know this is something that has either happened to me before or know that I have dreamt about it before and this time is real.

I had a dream the other day that haley and lily and i were in russia. and we were inside a coffee shop and outside the window on the street there were people gathered around and wagon - not a horse wagon but one you pull children in. and in it was a little boy lying face up and from where we were we couldn’t see his face only his body. and this scene is unfolding and we find out, not really see, that there is like a big sphere with two halves that is encasing this boys head, like imagine two halves of a coconut right around this kids head. and there are police men and people trying to remove this from the kid’s head. and eventually they open it or remove it and the kid has no head at all. anyway it was fucked, and i was so sad about it, about this poor kid, and the dream went on and we were like back home going about our lives and i was just so sad about this kid in the street, and upset that me and haley and lily had to witness it and then just go about our lives. and when i woke up i was so relieved that this beheaded kid wasnt real and we didn’t really have to live with seeing it. jesus. i know my teeth have never really all fallen out but i know the feeling so well of them all loose in my mouth and all coming out of my gums that i feel like ive lived it.

I want to aestheticize everything i do. i want to turn everything into art. people talk about bursts of creativity during mania and I normally scoff at that as being a symptom i don’t get to benefit from or whatever but I spent several hours the other day cutting my pants into strips to turn into a weaving. i want to weave a coat of arms, like a flag or banner. i have 2 burgundy 2 light blue 2 black 1 white. but maybe i could bleach them all and dye them however i want.

i have to write and research this group paper but i feel so disassociated, worse than i have in quite a while. and i just can’t stop thinking. not long enough to do anything.

before i got the bipolar diagnosis, a couple years ago i was in group therapy at york and it was pretty shitty because no one ever came and it would be you and 1 or 2 other guys, and it was cancelled all the time and was all in all shit show and just not therapeutically helpful at all, but something good was this guy who was very kind and had pretty intense anxiety related to a knew diagnosis, and he was describing his experiences of trying to get things done and apply to jobs and just generally function and the nitty gritty of what was hard about it, and i was blown away by how much he was describing my exact experience with certain things, which i hadn’t heard anyone done before, and i was adding to what he said, and we were both just so elated to hear it from each other, and eventually he says that ya ADHD is a bitch and that he doesn’t know my particular diagnosis or whatever but yeah that that was his and it was nice to hear someone explain the exact same problems. and i thought like oh shit i had no idea and maybe this does fit me, and have thought a lot about it and thinking i might have undiagnosed attention deficit issues. anyway i just found out that hypomania has symptoms of attention deficit and concentration etc which present much the same way as adhd. so anyway. that’s nice to know.

i miss my family and feel like a shit daughter and shit sister, and shit partner. i know my friends love me. even when i feel like they dont i know im wrong. i wish i could just fucking snap out of it.

all this sexual assault talk is great but so upsetting. but then i feel shit for being upset about it cuz stuff wasn’t super serious that i’ve experienced i guess, even though i know that’s not logical and i know that part of what everyone is saying is that any small story matters. just thinking about how shit ive felt and how scared ive been is just shit.

im trying to write myself out of a spiral not dig into one. i cant re-orrient my brain into the work i need to do. i hoped writing the stuff i couldnt stop thinking about would help but im still cycling and cant stop thinking anyway. so its not working but its still worth while i think. i feel like i need to go to bed because its dark but its not even 7.

i feel like im betraying people when i spend time not working on my obligations or self care because its taking even more time away from spending time with them, the longer it takes me to do stuff.

im going to a work dinner tonight. i hope the people i like are there and not just the people who make me feel small and unwanted there. i think it would be fun to be at dinner with meagan and lakeisha and annie and dave for example. so i hope they’re all there and actually interact with me. cuz the other scenario is the people are all there but dont engage. anyway.

i feel like i cant stop. im so embarrassed. i feel like i could write until i pass out. im going to try to work for 10 minutes. even just 10 minutes so i feel less incompetent. then i can go home. and i think i might write more tonight when im not able to sleep. decreased need for sleep is a hypomania symptom. im lethargic and want to stay in bed in the mornings but when i actually think about it its accurate that im needing to sleep way less/can’t sleep. anyway thats all folks.

#just feeling crazy #when i'm out and its dark it makes me think about being 17 and walking around in the dark #and just feeling fucked up #and taking too much ativan to get fucked up #i dont do that anymore but this weather makes me think about it #but i watered the plants #and cooked and ate

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