#But some of those stressors have passed

[cicero-the-assassin]

If you receive this, you make somebody happy! send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. if you get one back, even better! (⁠•⁠ө⁠•⁠)⁠♡

((You make me happy too babe! And I DID need some cheering up! I saw these as soon as you sent them but I didn't have the energy to respond. But they helped some. Knowing that someone was thinking about me. So... thank you babe. <3 <3 <3))

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

I may or not be the same anon from earlier with the Alpha!Wrio and shy reader ask but I love your writing a lot lol! Would you also be interested to give us some headcannons about Alpha!Jing Yuan and when his omega mate throws a tantrum and what he does about it??

Glad you like what I write! :D

This is interesting and made me think about why exactly an omega would throw a tantrum in the first place.

cw: omegaverse

Omegas throw tantrums when their needs aren't met so it's important to figure out just what exactly triggered it or things can evolve into a total melt down.

When Alpha!Jing Yuan's mate throws a tantrum he calmly assess the situation and tries to figure out what exactly set them off. He takes great care of his omega so for them to throw a tantrum he's more than a little worried.

He first checks to see if they're in any danger at all. He doesn't sense nor see any danger but he does notice that the window of their room is open. It's faint but he smells the scent of another omega and checks outside the window to see some knights that are crowded around a young foxian. Ah, they must have just presented and are being escorted away. He leaves the window open but turns on their fan to make the scent escape the room faster.

Next he checks to see if their nest is intact as a nest disturbed and broken apart can send an omega into a fit. He notices a few pillows in disarray but doesn't attempt to fix it or he might make it worse. He also makes note that their snacks and water are low and while he doesn't leave just yet he will make sure to restock for them.

Then he checks himself making sure he smells just fine but he notices the scents of the officials he had to deal with today on his coat. As soon as he notices he takes the offending cloth off and tosses it into the hamper to be dealt with at a later date.

Jing Yuan sighs in relief. It seems that it was just a bunch of little things that piled up onto another that set his omega off. Not the best scenario but he leaves the room to fetch them more snacks and water and returns to a growling omega as they fuss over their nest. He offers the snacks quietly and while they glare at him they don't snap at him and take the offerings peacefully.

He doesn't enter their nest but sits outside it and scents whatever items they pass to him with pleasure until each and every object has it's place. His omega seems calmer now but he can't be sure until they welcome him into their nest, so he instead closes the window and turns off the fan to let his scent fill the room. He sits back down on his place on the floor by their nest watching them slowly calm down.

It takes a while but once they're all settled they finally allow him into their nest. It's definitely much better that before, no wonder they threw a tantrum, all those stressors couldn't have been pleasant. He wraps them in his arms and purrs at their purrs. Hopefully this won't happen again anytime soon.

[zazter-den]

Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1

Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current

Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).

Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.

Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.

Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1

Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.

Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.

The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.

A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.

"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."

Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.

All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.

"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."

You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.

Should you have been scared? Probably.

But you weren't.

Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.

" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”

The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.

"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.

King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."

You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?

The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.

“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.

Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.

It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.

Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.

King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.

"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.

His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.

"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."

King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.

The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.

The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.

The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.

You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.

You would submit. But only as much as you had to.

As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."

Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.

The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.

And so began the balancing act.

"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.

Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.

Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.

As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."

Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.

You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.

Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.

Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.

Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.

Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.

As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.

"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.

As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.

"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.

As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.

With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.

"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."

The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.

With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.

Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.

Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.

Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.

You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.

With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.

"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.

The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.

"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.

Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.

Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.

The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.

You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.

His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.

"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.

And it only got worse.

Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.

Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.

Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone

"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.

As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.

Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.

The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.

Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.

"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.

Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.

"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.

Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."

The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.

Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.

"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.

Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.

However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.

Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.

As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.

With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.

The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.

As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.

Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.

The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.

Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.

The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.

Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.

The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.

It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.

Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.

As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.

As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.

Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.

With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.

Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.

With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.

As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.

Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.

Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.

Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.

A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.

He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.

IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.

Taglist: @themythicaldisaster

Comments and Reblogs carry me through the week!

[foodiegoogie]

Hi :)

Please can I request a scenario/oneshot where the reader is planning on spending valentines alone but Kaeya refuses to let them because of the sweetheart he is <3

note: AAAA OMG MY FIRST REQUEST 🥹🫶🏼 tysm for requesting lovely!! im ngl im not so satisfied with this one, but i still hope u like it ❤️❤️ kaeya is my baby <3

things left unsaid (and kept close to the heart)

kaeya alberich x gn!reader ✮ 1.5k

cw/tags: oblivious!reader, pining!kaeya (teehee), alcohol very implicitly mentioned (+ food), may or may not have slipped my own bitterness into this but dont think too hard on that <3

( ♡ )

While you loved Mondstadt dearly with all your heart, having to be in the vicinity of the city during such a time—in this case, Valentine’s Day—always proved to be a hard time, especially because you were oh, so, single.

Not that it had ever bothered you, of course. You were more than at peace with the fact that you didn’t have to deal with the stressors of being in a relationship with someone. In fact, every time you passed by the Adventurer’s Guild and caught sight of desperate people commissioning for someone to help out with their troubles with their partners, you could only laugh at how pathetic it was and think, “Wow, that couldn’t be me.”

But at the very same time you’d think of those words, you spiral towards the other meaning of it all. How it couldn’t be you that has a person to call your own, to look forward to seeing every day, to love you.

And so, you’d resigned yourself again to the fate of spending Valentine’s Day alone. Without a person to ask, it was kind of hopeless anyway, you thought.

But when the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius caught wind of your predicament, he sought to remedy it; immediately.

Never one to back down from a challenge nor see any of his friends (you, included) so sad and blue, Kaeya had spent the days leading up to the occasion meticulously planning an evening full of romance. He was hell-bent on charming the hell out of you, set on making you forget about loneliness as a whole, as long as you were in his company.

Thus, now, he stands in front of your doorstep, a lovely bouquet of Windwheel Asters in his hand, clad in his best clothes in regards to the date he had planned for the both of you for tonight. When he had asked you, you had all but laughed in his face, amused by the absurdity of it all.

Kaeya almost felt offended by the sound of your laughter, in spite of how it sounded like music to his ears. Why were you laughing at him? Surely, you knew that he was being serious… right?

When the laughter died down from your lips, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes, he took the chance to speak again, a hint of bewilderment etched onto his face.

“Well, that was pretty harsh,” Kaeya chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans his weight towards one leg. “Are you done laughing now or should I get you some tissues?”

You startle. “Wait… were you actually being serious?”

“Sweetheart, I was being serious the whole time. Did you honestly think I’d ask you out as a joke?” He scoffs, slightly affronted by the doubtful look in your eyes. “You should really cut me some slack, you know. I know I’m cunning, but I’d never go that far.”

You sigh, feeling your face grow warm with shame and embarrassment by his remarks. Your hand reaches up to rub at the back of your neck in a sheepish manner.

“Sorry, Kaeya.”

“If you were really sorry, you’d accept me being your Valentine.”

You chuckled in response, shoulders slightly easing from the tension from the earlier moment of embarrassment. It was safe to say that the conversation ended quite well - you’d finally agreed to Kaeya’s request to spend the occasion with him as your Valentine.

One slight problem, though. While you had agreed to his kind request under the guise of a friendly date, Kaeya couldn’t help but feel like he had missed an opportunity to take things further.

(He likes you, and it’s way too much to consider it still being a platonic feeling. But he would never admit that aloud, of course. Who is Kaeya if not secretive about his emotions, especially to himself?)

Kaeya realizes that he’s been standing at your doorstep like an idiot for what was longer than necessary. Raising a hand, he raps against your door, tightening his grasp around the bouquet in his other hand as he steels himself for the moment you open your door to him.

And just like that, he feels like he’s frozen from head to toe as the door finally opens, revealing you.

The dim candlelight coming from inside your house spilled out into the doorway, framing you from behind in a brilliant, glowing halo, accentuating your beautiful figure, dressed in an elegant, and form-fitting outfit.

He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been staring at you until you cleared your throat, breaking him out of his trance-like state.

Kaeya remembers to act normal again, beginning with a sly chuckle as he says, “Well, well, well. You clean up pretty nicely, Y/N.”

You return his compliment with a bashful smile, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, “Thank you. I only aim to please, Kaeya.”

“Oh, and you have certainly accomplished that, and more,” He replies, eyes glimmering with the ever so present hint of playfulness, his voice dropping to a smooth, velvety tone.

“But… if pleasing is your aim,” Kaeya adds, “Then you must know that I have some ideas on how you can do it even better..." His words were laced with a hint of flirtation that was subtle yet undeniable.

You gaped at him, “Sorry?”

You’re certain that Kaeya could tell that he’d flustered you, but even if he didn’t, he’d made no attempt at bringing it up as he steps closer to you, gaze unwavering from yours, and hands the bouquet to you.

“These are for you, by the way,” He says, feigning nonchalance as you take it with two hands. Kaeya watches you take a whiff of the Asters with a warm, but proud smile.

Glad for the change in topic, you find yourself relaxing as you smell the flowers in your hands.

“Thank you, Kaeya. They’re wonderful,” You smile back at him in gratitude, a faint hue of pink dusting your cheeks.

The Cavalry Captain’s smile could only grow (and glow) more with pride for himself, “Well, I’m glad you like them. Because lucky for you, I also aim to please.”

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes, “What does that mean?”

“Why, I picked them out myself, of course. The whole bouquet was arranged by yours truly,” Kaeya gestures to himself, doing a small bow for the sake of theatrics.

He earns the melodic sound of your laughter, and Kaeya hides a fond smile to himself as he stands back up to his full height, towering over yours.

“That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you, really.”

“Like I said, I only aim to please.”

With that, Kaeya offers his arm for you to take whilst flashing you a smile, fully committing to the whole being-your-Valentine ordeal. He was determined to show you just how much of a gentleman he could be, and maybe, just maybe, make you see him in a different light.

For the first part of your evening together as Valentines, Kaeya takes you to the Dawn Winery, where a lovely dinner prepared by the head housemaid, Adelinde, awaits the both of you. After that, a stroll through the vineyard to “burn the food in our stomachs, and make room for some drinks,” as per Kaeya’s words.

And the whole time, you find yourself enjoying the evening, despite your initial dejections of Valentine’s Day as a whole. But with Kaeya keeping you company, and taking you out on a date for that matter, who were you to remain in your low spirits?

The air was crisp and fresh as the both of you walked side by side through the vineyard, the sweet scent of ripe grapes filling your nostrils with each step you took, both of your hands lingering by your sides.

Kaeya found it especially hard not to notice how he could brush his fingers against yours in one, small move. He wasn’t sure if it was the sweet scent of grapes surrounding them that was enticing him, nearly emboldening him, or if it was the sight of you bathed under the moonlight, casting you in an angelic glow.

And he thought he’d never seen someone so beautiful up close right from the very first moment he saw you. Kaeya couldn’t quite fathom how you seemed to take his breath away, time and time again, no matter how dressed up you were or not.

All of a sudden, the man who had always kept his secrets close to his chest, found himself wanting to spill out everything he truly felt about you all at once, at this very moment in time.

But for now, Kaeya thinks it would be best to just keep his feelings at bay, content with merely being in your presence, and enjoying each other's company in the beautiful vineyard, under the moon and stars.

In the meantime, he’ll let the star-filled sky, and the vines and foliage surrounding you alongside the ripened grapes, bear witness to the way he longed for you.

So close, and yet, so far.

( ♡ )

GRRRAH thanks 4 reading <3 lmk what u thought of this 🥹🙏

[dxxdhood]

cabin fervor

pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

summary: fed up with your life, you go on a trek through the woods in the dead of winter. When you pass out in the middle of a snowstorm, jason rescues you and brings you back to his cabin.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, hypothermia mention, frostbite mention, food mention, reader with poor self preservation, implied mental health issues

wc: 1.9k

The cold feels sharp, like a thousand pinpricks attacking your skin all at once. When you decided to go on this pathetic excuse for a trip, you thought you knew what you were getting yourself into. Bundled in your layers and snuggled in a puffer jacket, you felt decently protected from the cold when you first left home. But now, when faced with the expanse of winter forest, you feel hilariously underprepared.

The woods you decided to go on a hike continue forever, stretching off into the gray sky no matter where you look. For the first hour or so of your trek, it was actually fairly enjoyable. The mounds of snow covering the ground shimmered in the morning light, and you had no trouble walking through it with  your sturdy boots.

But even though you felt the cold was manageable at first, you quickly start to realize your fingers are numbing through your gloves. Periodically, you shake them out, trying to coax life back into them. Nothing seems to work, so to warm yourself up, you keep walking down what you hope is the trail. There’s about six inches of snow obscuring the ground, so you really can’t be sure if you’re screwing this up or not.

Your phone doesn’t work out here, but you think at least an hour has passed since you started. Every tender nerve in your body is screaming at you to turn back, to go home and make yourself an instant hot cocoa and pretend like everything’s completely fine, but you stubbornly keep walking. It’s nothing but inertia and your fear of returning to your lonely home that keeps you going.

Brushing the slice of skin between your sleeve and glove against your nose, it’s like a block of ice. You don’t have a mirror, but even if you did, you’d be too afraid to check it. What if some of the skin cells have died by now? What if frostbite is already setting in? You can sense you’ve given yourself goosebumps just from your own panicked thoughts. Slowing your pace down, you take a few deep breaths, counting each second. Stupid. It hasn’t been that long yet. No way you’re getting frostbite already.

Turn back. Your body is screaming at you. Your legs are cramping up along the outer edges like they’ve done too many lunges in one session, but you keep pushing them further. The trees around you are devoid of color, twisted ash like the sky, and you think unreasonably that you deserve better scenery for having come so far. Oh god, you’re losing it. 

It’s snowing now, just small flakes being carried by the wind, but you continue to trudge forward despite the wind buffeting against you. You will not go back to your empty house, tinged in bad memories. There won’t be a job you hate anymore, not out here. No stressors, no panic fueled by the fact that you’re all by yourself. Here, in the woods, being alone doesn’t matter. You don’t have to be anyone out here, you’re safe.

At some point, you’ve started to get warm. The realization has you cackling, and unfortunately there are no birds around for you to scare away. Realizing you just wished to torture birds makes you laugh even harder, and you take a bad step which causes you to fall forward. You’re face first in the snow, your entire body laying flat into it like it’s a mattress. 

Honestly, you feel calm. You’re not afraid. In fact, you wish it would snow a little harder so you would have a soft blanket to cover you. There’s more giggling, which you recognize as yours after a delay. Oddly enough, there’s also footsteps, but those can’t be yours. You’ve stopped being able to feel your feet a long time ago. You think you feel a warm hand gripping your shoulder, but you black out too quickly to tell.

.

You’re awoken by your own heart rattling in your chest. There’s heat, so much heat and the scenery around you is all burnt yellows and dark oranges. It’s so warm in here, you almost have the urge to throw the quilt that’s covering you off, but then you remember this morning’s adventure. 

Opening your eyes further, you realize you’re in a cabin complete with a fireplace. There’s a combination of modern furniture, like a dresser and the bed you’ve been sleeping on, with some furniture that looks distinctly homemade, like a log bench and table. And thankfully, there’s plenty of thick fabrics. There’s a push rug beneath you and blankets folded on the shelves. There’s even an old, possibly fur-lined overcoat spread out on the couch across from you. It’s heaven.

“Finally awake, huh?” a gravelly voice calls out. You turn towards the sound, seeing a man stirring a pot on a wood cookstove. He’s very tall, only missing the ceiling by a few inches, and combined with his bulk, you wonder how he manages to look so at-home in the small cabin. 

“Yeah,” you say, helpfully.

“You wanna tell me what you were doing out there in the middle of a snowstorm?” he takes his gaze off of the stew for a moment to look at you. His eyes are intense, strong like the rest of him.

You open your mouth to respond, but you find yourself gaping. There really isn’t a good explanation, is there? What were you even trying to do? Walking out into woods that go on for dozens of miles in the dead of winter– even you have the self-awareness to know how outrageous that sounds.

“I like the forest.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, grabbing a ladle from the hanging rack. “Me too, that’s why I live here.”

You cringe at yourself, and you can only hope he doesn’t also find you embarrassing. There’s only the steady sound of the fire crackling and he fills two bowls with stew. You continue to peer at him from the bed, watching as he sits down at the table. After a moment, he gestures you over with an arched brow, like he’s confused you even need an invitation.

“Thank you,” you say as you sit across from him. The stew smells rich and vibrant, and even though you wouldn’t have guessed you were that hungry, you eat the first few bites rapidly, not caring that you burn your tongue. 

“It’s true, though,” you say after you manage to slow yourself down. “I like the forest. It makes me happy in a way that I don’t really understand. Like, it’s just trees. I know that, but… I don’t know, something about me coming here when I was younger, just getting to see squirrels running around, smelling the sap and the moldy leaves in the fall– it’s great. You get lost here, and you never really know the place no matter how many times you visit.”

He nods, “The woods are lovely, dark and deep.”

“Isn’t that a poem?” you say as you swallow another mouthful of stew.

From up close, you realize he has scars running along his face and neck, disappearing past the collar of his sweater, “Robert Frost. You read poetry?”

“Not really. You?”

“Sometimes. It gets better when you’re in a worse mood,” you swear you see the ghost of a smile grace his lips. 

“How’s that work?” your eyebrows knit together.

He takes a big gulp of stew and chews on it as he gathers his thoughts. “It’s all emotions, that’s all poetry is.”

He continues, “If you’re already vulnerable, everything the poet’s saying and all the weird analogies they’re using to get their point across are going to land much better. The poet’s feelings are so much more raw when you already understand them.”

And there, in his warm, homey cabin with the flickering fire light, you see him. His hair curls like ink written on parchment, gently brushing against his forehead. His gaze is soft even though he politely keeps it off of you, allowing you to eat in relative privacy. All you want is to get him to talk books to you, maybe for hours, maybe forever. 

“Who are you?” is what you say because you can’t say anything else. 

“Jason,” and he smiles full-out this time. He’s clearly capable, probably toughened from surviving the winter out in this cabin alone, but his expressions are still so delicate, like he’s a ripple in a pond.

“I’m–”

“Someone who thinks they’re immortal, someone who thinks knit gloves are good enough to stop hypothermia, should I keep going?”

“Hey!” you shout, trying in vain to smack his shoulder. “Come on, my winter outfit wasn’t that bad.”

“You weren’t even wearing a scarf,” he says as he finishes his stew. You follow along shortly after, and he walks a few paces until he sits on the coach.

You join him, sitting on the other end. Being closer to the fire, you shiver as you realize how cold you still are, even after the nap and the stew. 

His eyes widen and he gets up immediately, “Wait a second.”

Jason drapes you in the quilt from before, arranging it so no part of your body is left uncovered. “How’s that? Do you want another one? I have more.”

“I think I’m good,” you give a content sigh. “I don’t want to start sweating.”

He nods and sits down beside you, leaving less distance than there was before. The two of you chat over nothing and everything, you point out the knick knacks and books on his shelf and he explains them to you, his face lighting up at getting to talk about things that mean so much to him.

At some point, you become thirsty and ask if he has any water. He says he needs to get it “the old-fashioned way” and you watch as he grabs a bucket near the door and fills it with snow from outside. You patter over to the stove, still cloaked in your quilt, and watch as he melts the snow in a pot right in front of your eyes. 

You thank him a bit too enthusiastically, seeing as all he did was melt snow, but what can you say, it was a new experience for you. He pours a mugful for you and one for himself a little later once the water is hotter. Placing a spoonful of leaves from a box on his kitchen shelf into his mug, you realize he’s making tea. Grimacing, you demand a trade. He switches your mugs, no questions asked, and you dig your nose into the quilt at your shoulder to hide your sheepish expression.

When you settle back on the couch and you feel the tiredness finally set into your bones, you tell Jason you have something to say. He listens.

“I was out there because I was alone. I didn’t want… to feel so empty anymore,” you whisper, your eyes already closing.

“I know,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around you as you lean your head on his shoulder. “I get it. I understand.”

You drift off, his words finally instilling you with a warmth you’ve needed for so long. 

[drdemonprince]

Can we really expand our window of tolerance as autistic people? I’ve been working on that kind of thing for so long and I can’t tell if I’ve made any genuine progress or if I’ve just unconsciously doubled down on masking :(

We can! But our expanded distress tolerance can't come out of nowhere. Something has to give. So for example, for me, I have way fewer sensory issues these days than I used to have, by a wide margin, and I have significantly less social anxiety and don't need much social recharge time on the level that I used to. I have more distress tolerance for sensory input and for social stressors now than I ever have before -- but this has required lifestyle changes and unmasking in order to get there. Let me break down both these improvements and how they happened:

Even as recently as a year ago, I would have terrible sensory meltdowns on a regular basis. But I haven't had a single sensory meltdown in months, maybe not even a single one for the entirety of 2023 so far? And that's because I have a) cut out caffeine, dramatically reducing my physiological stress levels, b) cut back on some workplace stress by reducing my commitments, c) stopped taking on additional projects outside of work that I didn't want to do and that only caused me stress (workshops and talks), and d) began working from home far more consistently, and made myself a wfh office that is more comfortable.

Now I operate from a really solid base of sensory comfort most days and I'm not overloaded with information or overwhelmed with obligations. This means I am far more tolerant of screaming people on the bus, the upstairs toddler slamming her feet on the floor, ambulances blaring by, noisy concerts, people bumping into me at the bar, etc.

I also am, for the first time in my life, clear-headed enough to recognize when I am starting to experience sensory distress, and can intentionally put on sunglasses or pop in ear plugs or remove myself from an upsetting situation more quickly. I had to experience what being relaxed and not overstimulated felt like, and get accustomed to living that way, in order to recognize subtler signs that I was feeling shitty and take steps to address those small annoyances before they exploded. I can handle a lot "more" in an intentional way now because I built my life to allow "less." My overall distress tolerance has still expanded -- but it's because I stopped masking and began attending to my sensory and stress regulation needs.

For the social piece, my distress tolerance has also gone up due to unmasking. If I was still motivated by passing as NT or being socially acceptable all the time, I'd be so overwhelmed being around people and worn down by every interaction. I also wouldnt be able to advocate for myself. But in the past few years I've become more and more openly weird and outspoken in my needs and true feelings, and I've recognized that the right people actually love me more when I do so and show up for me, and so being honest or even difficult to deal with is not really a threat.

This means I just don't experience much distress being honest or difficult to deal with anymore. I really can tolerate the discomfort of telling someone they're wrong or that I'm hurt without freaking out about being hurt or abandoned, because I've had a lot of good experiences with it and because I enjoy being unmasked so deeply that I just can't put my personality back in a bottle.

Masking lowers distress tolerance because it frays your nerves with stress and wears you out and bars you from ever getting to attend to and regulate your discomfort when there are signs of it happening. In order to increase your distress tolerance, you actually have to learn to better honor your discomfort early, and preventatively, so that you don't bubble over into a meltdown after days or weeks of ignoring your needs.

I think some people think distress tolerance is about becoming more tough, but it's quite the opposite. We become more resilient by getting better at recognizing and attending to our hurts.

[greensagephase]

Baking Halloween Cookies with Miguel

Miguel O'Hara x GeneralReader

Summary: Baking Halloween cookies with Miguel.

Word Count: 1,086

Warnings: Fluffy Miguel; mention of a specific movie that reader enjoys (not necessary to know about to read) Masterlist

🍂 🕯🍂 🕯🍂🕯 🍂🕯 🍂 🕯🍂

It’s your first year together, and in passing, you mentioned wanting to bake cookies like the sugar cookies that have the pumpkin on them. You saw some trend online in which people were layering those cookies over the regular chocolate chip ones and you want to try it out.

Miguel is instantly all over the idea. So much so that when you get home from work, you find Miguel at home already. He usually gets home much later but here he is, showered and dressed in his comfy clothes and greeting you with that smile that melts all your stress away.  

“So glad you’re home, mi vida. Look at what I got,” Miguel says, leading you to the kitchen after helping you take off your coat and placing your items away.

And that’s when you see the numerous packs of cookies on one of the counters. You stare in awe at him. You didn’t think he’d be so into this idea but suddenly he’s asking if you want to go shower while he makes dinner so the two of you can bake a few batches.

You smile and agree because seeing Miguel so excited over baking cookies is so heartwarming, you simply cannot say no to him.

And so, after eating dinner and cleaning up, the baking starts. But of course, the ambiance is set first. Your shared apartment decorated for Halloween and autumn, so there are pumpkins and spider webs, for obvious reasons, decorating your living room. You have string lights that look like corn candy hanging over the chimney and in other areas of the living room, along with flickering autumnal candles here and there that make the apartment smell amazing. And of course, you even set a Halloween playlist.

You preheat the oven while Miguel gets the baking sheets and then the two of you start. You show Miguel how the cookies need to go and he’s all smiles, loving every second of it. There’s no talk of work or other stressors in your life. The two of you focus on laying out the cookies while talking about childhood memories around Halloween. He tells you about the one time Gabriel insisted the two of them have costumes related to each other even though Miguel wanted to be a character from a different series. He also tells you about the time he and his friends went to some abandoned house as teenagers only to get spooked by a stray cat, which makes you laugh, earning yourself a playful glare. 

At last, you and Miguel put the trays into the oven once it’s done preheating. The two of you clean up any mess behind and continue to talk about your childhood memories but you eventually find yourself cornered in the kitchen resting against a counter with Miguel pressed against you. He can’t stop himself from peppering your face with kisses as you share one of your own experiences. You don’t mind the kisses at all and get into it until the oven interrupts. 

“We should leave them in there for a little longer,” Miguel whispers but you shake your head, chuckling. 

“They’re gonna burn,” you whisper back before you manage to slip out of his embrace to check on them. 

You take the cookies out and let them cool for a bit, still thinking about your Halloween and your childhood.

“I have an idea,” you tell Miguel, who raises an eyebrow, full of curiosity. “Wait here.”

You head to your living room and turn on the tv, before pulling up a streaming service. Talking about your childhood has reminded you of one of your favorite animated Halloween movies as a kid, so you decide to pull it up so you can watch it. 

You prepare the living room to watch the movie by getting blankets and pillows out before you lure Miguel into the living room with cookies and your choice of drink, settling on the couch under blankets. 

“What are we watching, mi vida?” Miguel asks before bringing a cookie to his mouth.  

“I used to watch this when I was a kid. It used to come on the cartoon channel. It’s called Scary Godmother: Halloween Spooktacular.”

Miguel nods, already intrigued as he eats another cookie. The two of you start watching the movie as you eat. Miguel seems to enjoy the movie, loving the fact that you’re sharing this with him. At one point Miguel pulls you closer, wanting to be nearer to you. The proximity allows you to feel the vibrations of Miguel’s chest as he laughs at the funny parts and of course, you love his commentary throughout it. 

“Jimmy is being unnecessarily mean to everyone.”

“These kids are being so mean. Poor Hannah.”

You rest against Miguel under the blanket, enjoying his reactions and commentary until the end of the movie. 

“There’s a sequel,” you say as the credits roll. 

“Well, then let’s watch it,” Miguel says with a grin. 

“Really?”

“Yes! That was really fun to watch.”

You grin and put on the next movie. “I have to ask, who’s your favorite character?”

Miguel wraps his arms around you as the movie starts, thinking. “Well, Scary Godmother is very cool. I like the vampire family a lot but I also like Skully and Harry… You know what - Skully,” he says which makes you grin. 

“He’s my favorite,” you say referring to the skeleton in the movie. 

“So, I guessed correctly,” Miguel says with a smile as he kisses the side of your head. You smile and he pulls you closer, if that’s even possible. “Thank you for sharing this with me, mi vida,” Miguel whispers as his warm, large, and calloused hand gently holds your much smaller one. “And for baking cookies with me. It’s been a really long time since I’ve done something like this.”

Smiling, you nod and shift your body so you can face him. You press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy to. I love seeing you like this, you know? Relaxed, laughing, and having a good time. We should do this more often.”

Miguel kisses your forehead gently before he leans back, grinning. “We should. Once a week. How does that sound?” he asks as he caresses your face with his free hand. 

“That sounds perfect,” you whisper. 

“Then it’s settled. Oh - and cookies must be included, mi vida.”

You chuckle and nod. “Deal,” you reply, as you settle back into his chest to enjoy the sequel in your warm and cozy apartment. 

🍂 🕯🍂 🕯🍂🕯 🍂🕯 🍂 🕯🍂 Translation for Italicized words: Mi vida - My life

I had this sitting in my drafts and it's the last day of October, so I just decided to post it. Happy Halloween!

[captainhunnicutt]

"Mail Call Three" is a really well done episode revolving around the various types of romantic relationships and how the war impacts not only the relationship itself - but also to those adjacent to a relationship.

Radar, arguably, has the most growing up to do throughout the entire series. Some of which is compounded simply because the plot lines tend to infantilize Radar in a way that renders itself rather unnecessary, but despite that - he is forced to grow up as a result. His mother writing to tell him she was in a relationship threw him for a loop because he wasn't expecting it nor was he used to it. Its entirely possible that Mrs. O'Reilly would've entered into a relationship even if Radar hadn't been sent to Korea - but it's also possible that having to face the idea of her son not returning was enough to make her decide to take a leap of faith and try something new. An interesting example of how those at home have to continue on as if nothing has changed because living in a constant state of "what if" is no way to live. A lot of the time, the family members that are left behind are depicted as worrying non-stop, and unable to move forward, but it feels unique to demonstrate living a full life while a loved one is absent.

Which then brings us to Peg and BJ. With BJ getting in his head about the idea that Peg is able to handle things at home, we see him start to unravel at the thought. It becomes less about if Peg loves him and more about whether or not she needs him. He never questions if she has fallen out of love, but he worries if she is moving so far away from him that she will no longer need him now or when he returns. A stark difference from knowing, day in and day out, that at the 4077 - BJ is needed. He is stripped away from his loved ones (who need him), because his services and skills are needed elsewhere - but certainly he has questioned whether or not the 4077 could function without him. How needed is he really? But then to feel like his wife may no longer need him? So where does he belong? Which will end first? His deployment or the marriage?

Which then brings us to Klinger. We watched him get married, from a distance - and now we see his heart break because of distance. It feels like the quintessential war time love story in many ways. Get married to the love of your life, throwing away all pretense and details, because you don't know what tomorrow holds - only for the war to snatch it all away. Half of the partnership no longer needing the other half. The war pushes a lot of things forward, and not always in the best way.

Margaret struggling with the lack of respect from her mother-in-law which is not a unique situation to go through, but an added stressor when overseas in a g'damn war zone. Add onto that the idea that she can't be face-to-face with her mother-in-law, and Donald is not there to physically back her up and it becomes more complicated to navigate. She needs her partner and he is nowhere to be found. She needs love and respect and it's not provided.

And last you have Hawkeye, who marvels at how well Capt. Pierce does with the ladies, admitting he doesn't do that well in his dreams. And he's in disbelief when he sees that the other Capt. Pierce isn't anything like he assumes he should be - based on all the women writing him. Then he finds out the other Capt. Pierce is a self-proclaimed "very funny guy," the punchline of the entire thing.

The culmination of all of the mail that has been passed around being that anyone can write absolutely anything and with so many miles in-between sender and recipient - the intent of the letter can land somewhere in between blatantly obvious and open to interpretation - depending on the person and extenuating circumstances.

The only thing that's consistent, regardless of person and circumstances, is love is a complicated thing both during and outside of a war.

[manias-wordcount]

Hi there I saw you do avatar the last Airbender would you be interested in doing a Mela Reader? In a poly relationship with azula Mai and Tylee ?

Poly Relationship HCs (Azula, Ty Lee, Mai, Male! Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

vat𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The girls fight for your attention a lot

And the girls are never really as subtle as they think they are

Only your relationship with Azula is public (something she’s particularly boastful about- especially behind closed doors)

But despite it being in everyone’s best interest, it has caused some fights before

And caused you to get some questions about what is actually going on

You try to claim to the public (or at least the nosy servants that don’t know everything just yet) that you’re all just friends

But it’s really, really, really hard to do when you could have two of the girls pulling on your arms while shouting over your head about an argument you’re not even apart of

And somehow they can be even worse in private

For example, you could just be chilling in your quarters, reading a book to pass the time, and then Ty Lee comes up and cuddles up to you- all find and good

But before you even get a chance to wrap your arm around her shoulder and pull her close…here comes Mai…

…shoving you to the middle of the couch so she could lay on your other side and shove her legs into your lap

Meanwhile, Azula will come busting in the door- yelling at you to come to her for whatever reason

And suddenly it’s your job to quell the sudden argument that started between all three of them

But don’t worry- there have always been enough good days to balance out the bad

It’s the one-on-one time with each of the girls that really helps your relationship grow

The moments where you can be there for them and their worries and fears

And they can do the same for you

Those calm moments between two easily allow for moments where all four of you can be peaceful and happy despite all the stressors that the three most powerful girls in the Fire Nation face on a daily basis

So sometimes it’s explosive, sometimes it’s tense but sometimes your relationship can be just as sweet and happy as anyone else’s- it just needs a little hard work <3

…and for the girls to not gang up against you in random moments because they think it’s funny to go 3 against 1 when you least expect it

[finalgirlfae]

girls got rhythm, randall “pink” floyd

summary: y/n gets a little too tipsy at a party and randall takes care of her

pairings: randall “pink” floyd x f!reader

genre: fluff

note: this might be a little inaccurate because i’m not a drinker i’m a stoner🫠

music blasted through the speakers of the house as you danced with a red cup full of beer in your hand. it was one of those better summer nights, not too hot and not too cold. it was the perfect amount of warm with a cool breeze overhead.

“having fun?” jodi asked, laughing at the way you danced when you were drunk. you looked like one of those babies who just learned to walk, stumbling around and tripping over yourself a little. this was truly one of the better nights, no more stressors of school and exams. just partying and being with your friends.

you gave no verbal response, just a big smile paired with you tossing your hands in the air. since your cup was full of budweiser the action caused the beer to splash, falling on you and jodi.

“you bitch!” jodi laughed and playfully smacked your arm, she wiped the spilled beer off her face. “i’m gonna go find darla,” jodi began to leave but turned back around and took the cup from you. “and no more drinking for you.” she teased, pointing a finger in your face.

you puffed at her, dramatically crossing your arms over your chest. “you’re not the boss of me.”

she placed her hands on her hips, matching your energy with a smile before walking closer to you. “no but i’m your best friend. same difference.”

you turned away from her, “whatever.” jodi laughed as she watched you stumble away, nearly tripping over your brown wedged heels. they went great with the high waisted denim bell bottoms and dark purple halter top.

you walked around the party, passing through sweaty bodies and clouds of smoke before reaching the other end of the house and finding the man you were looking for. slater.

“slater!” you cheesed, dragging out the last syllable of his name. he smiled at you, obviously high off his ass right now. “y/n, what’s up man?”

you turned to make sure jodi wasn’t behind you before turning back to slater and whispering, “you got a joint on you, man?”

“man you know i do.” he giggled, digging in his pocket before pulling out a pre roll. “$15 bucks.”

you raised a brow at him. “15 bucks? man the only reason you’re at this party and not home studying for summer school is because i helped you cheat in bio.”

he rolled his eyes. “fine. 5.”

you smiled and pulled a 5 dollar bill from inside your shirt. he cringed at the bill as you placed it in his hand. “really? boob money?”

“mhm.” you snatched the joint from him. “closest you’ll ever get to the twins.” you spoke, squishing your boob as a joke before backing up into the crowd again. on the other side of the house in the kitchen pink was leaned against the counter, listening to o’bannion rave to the guys about the hookup he allegedly had with some college girl.

“i’m telling you man, she was spinning on my shit.” o’bannion raved, getting overly excited about the memory. pink only shook his head, taking a sip of his cup full of ginger ale. he was a designated driver tonight, so it was no drinking or smoking for him.

“she was bouncing on my shit like a god damn bunny rabbit. i swear to you man those delaware chicks are wild.” benny sipped his beer and patted o’babnion on the shoulder. “yeah buddy, sure you did.”

“i’m telling the truth!” he was starting to get riled up again. “pink,”

“huh?” pink looked up from his cup, staring at his friends. it’s not that he didn’t wanna be here, but it’s just that he’d rather spend his time with his girlfriend instead of sitting around listening to the guys rave about how many girls they fucked this year. the only reason he came to the party was to see you, you had been hanging with the girls for the last few days and didn’t really get a chance to see each other.

“what do you think, man? they think i’m lying.” o’bannion was clearly already drunk, pink could tell by the hiccups in his voice. he humored his friend, patting him on the shoulder

“you want my honest opinion?”

“uh huh.”

pink shrugged. “i think you’re a pig.”

the group laughed and pink smiled a bit, sipping his soda.

“you only say that cause you don’t like to kiss and tell.” o’bannion put the cup down and pointed a finger in his face. he walked over to pink, tripping over his own feet in the process and falling into the counter. “if i was with a girl like y/n you’d never hear the end of it.” he hiccuped at the end of the sentence.

“okay!” donny spoke, gripping o’bannion’s shoulder and pulling him away. “let’s stop talking crazy before randall breaks your face.” donny pulled the drunken boy out of the kitchen and maybe outside to sober him up a little. it was bad to let o’bannion run around unfiltered and full of alcohol, who knows what’d he’d say?

“randy!” it was dawson’s voice called out to pink, he was peeking his head through the door frame of the kitchen.

“what?”

dawson motioned quickly with his hand, calling pink over to him. “you gotta see what y/n is doing right now man. she’s dancing with darla.”

“oh shit,” pink grumbled. he put down the cup and quickly followed dawson out the kitchen and to the dining room of the house where the music got louder.

i been around the world

i’ve seen a million girls

ain’t none of them got

what my lady got

you were stood on top a table with darla, both of you shaking your hips and attracting even more of a crowd. people stood around the table, calling and cheering the both of you on.

pink liked to call you and darla the evil twins because every time you two were paired together with music and substances, nothing good was to come of it.

she stealin the spotlight

knocks me off my feet

she’s enough to start a landslide

just walkin’ down the street

he pushed through the crowd until he was at the table. pink stood next to jodi who had her arms crossed and an amused look on her face as she watched you and darla dance.

“and you just let this happen?” pink spoke above the music, crossing his arms and not pulling his eyes off the way your body moved.

jodi shrugged. “you know you can’t stop y/n when she parties. look at her.”

pink and jodi both tilted their heads, looking at the way you pressed your back to darla and how the girl began to grind against you.

wearin dresses so tight

and lookin like dynamite

about to blow me away

“i’m not gonna lie, i’m actually a little jealous right now.” pink spoke to jodi making her laugh. darla had a firm grip of your hips and definitely wasn’t letting go any time soon. she turned both of you, making you face pink as her arms slid around your waist and rocked you to the music. she smiled at your boyfriend, sticking her tongue out and continuing to dance.

no doubt about it

can’t live without it

that girl’s got rhythm

“yeah,” pink spoke, watching how the both of you moved. “enough of that.”

jodi laughed as pink moved closer to the table, wrapping strong arms around your legs and lifting you up. you screamed a little as you were thrown over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and carried out of the living room.

pink walked back to the kitchen and sat you in the counter, looking at how your face pouted. “you are such a party pooper randall floyd!” you slurred, leaning back and hitting your head on the cabinet. you groaned in pain. “ow.”

“how many drinks have you had tonight?” pink stood in between your legs, looking at you closely and running his hands over your thighs. he put a hand up to the back of your head, massaging it gently.

you titled your head at him, ignoring the question completely. “you’re so pretty.”

your boyfriend smiled at you and laughed before digging in his pocket for the car keys. “yeah, i’m taking you home.”

“noo!” you whined out, gripping his arm. “i wanna stay and dance.”

“you are way too fucked up to be here right now. you smell like a dispensary too.” he spoke, commenting on the heavy weed smell from the joint you had smoked earlier.

“i haven’t even smoked tonight.” you lied, rubbing his arm gently. pink looked down at your manicured fingers and how they traced over his muscles. he gripped your hand, stopping you from feeling up his arms. “nice try, you can’t flirt your way out of this.”

“noo let me stay. i promise, ‘m good.”

pink thought about it for a second. “alright. if you can walk in a straight line back to the living room i’ll let you stay.”

you smiled deeply at pink. “observe.” you spoke in an overly cocky tone, sliding off the counter top to stand. you stumbled a bit, the room was spinning in about three different directions and right now to were regretting the shots you took with darla before your impromptu table dance.

you turned your head to pink and he gave you an amused look, motioning with his hands for you to go on. you turned back and took a deep breath.

just walking in a straight line, i can do it

you couldn’t even take a full step before you came crashing to the floor. luckily your boyfriend had fast reflexes and was able to hook your waist with his arm, tugging you into his chest before you fell down.

pink kissed the side of your head before whispering in a teasing tone, “you’re smashed.”

you didn’t respond, much too embarrassed to justify yourself to him right now. pink put your arm over his shoulder and kept his arm around your waist as he began to walk you out of the house. when you reached the front lawn you got away from him stumbling around a few before falling on to the grass.

pink sighed. “you plan on getting up?”

“it’s so comfy.” you muttered, rolling over on to your back. the cool grass was a nice feeling in your drunken state, it felt good against your skin.

“i’m sure it is.” pink spoke, getting in his knees and pulling you to sit up. “but you know what’s he even more comfortable? your bed.”

your eyes widened at his statement. “that’s so true!”

he couldn’t help but laugh at you, pulling you up to stand and practically dragging you to his car.

“you really are so beautiful, you know?” you smiled, looking at pink as he unlocked the car door. pink smiled back at you, “thank you. you are also very beautiful.”

he opened the door to the backseat and helped you in, reaching over and clicking your seatbelt for you. he was so close and was making you feel so strange and it didn’t help that he smelt like heaven.

“do you have a girlfriend?” you asked making him turn his head. pink’s confusion turned to laughter.

“yes, as matter of fact i do.”

“fuck.” you tossed your head back, “she’s so lucky.”

pink sighed. “y/n, you are my girlfriend.”

you snapped your head up at turned to him. “i am? aww that’s so sweet!” you smiled, cupping his face and bringing him in for a kiss. he could taste the alcohol on your lips and normally he wouldn’t like that, but it was you so he couldn’t resist kissing back. you pulled away from the kiss after a few seconds, “i love you.”

he gave you his full smile. “i love you more.”

pink cupped your face, “okay, let’s get you home.”

“so we can fuck?”

he sighed and and pinched your cheeks before letting go of your face. he decided to humor you. “yeah, as soon as you sober up i’ll show you a good time but for now let’s focus on getting you in bed- to sleep.” he closed the back door, sitting in the driver’s seat and turning on the child lock. he wasn’t taking any chances with your safety.

“why not now?” you whined, slouching forward and pressing your face to the back of the drivers seat. the leather was cool against your face. pink backed out of the driveway and pulled on to the main road as you sat up straight.

“because you’re drunk. that’s why.”

you were silent after that, leaning back fully into the seat and looking at the cars and houses he drive past on the main roads.

he checked on you through the rear view mirror numerous times through the the drive, just making sure you were good and weren’t like- choking on your own vomit or something.

when pink pulled on to your block he drove cautiously, saying a silent prayer that your parents weren’t home.

he parked in front of your house and pulled the keys out of the ignition, silently thanking god that your parents were away.

pink opened the back car door, taking off your seatbelt and picking you up. you grumbled incoherent nonsense and he walked up the front door, using the house key in the lamp to open it and pull you upstairs to your room.

pink sat you on the bed and immediately you flopped over on your side. the room was still spinning and the weed mixed with the alcohol made you feel like you had no gravity pulling you down the earth. right now you were simply floating in the stratosphere. pink laughed a little and pulled you to sit up.

“what do you wanna wear?” he asked as he took off your shoes for you. he began to look through your dressers for cloths after that.

“i really want doritos…”

pink sighed. “as soon as we get you changed and in bed you can have all the doritos you want, sweetie.”

he pulled out one of his old jerseys from your dresser and smiled, it was all the way from sophomore year.

“you kept this?” pink asked, walking over to you with a smile. you looked at the jersey and nodded.

“yeah, it’s comfy.” you flipped over again causing him to sigh. pink moved his hands to your pants, unzipping your jeans and pulling them off before helping you put on some shorts. after your pants were changed he removed all your bracelets, necklaces and rings. he left the room for a second before coming back some makeup wipes and a brown wash cloth.

you laid there, watching and letting him take care of you. when he finished changing your clothes he removed your makeup and then pressed a cold wash cloth on to your forehead.

“do you think you’re gonna throw up tonight?”

you only nodded a bit, sitting up and using what ever strength you had left to stand. again, the room spun and you fell back. pink gently grabbed you, sitting you back down on the bed. “woahh, take it easy babe.” he grabbed the wash cloth and pressed it all over your face. “what do you need? i’ll get it for you. just stay here.”

“water please.”

pink nodded and kissed your head, tucking your body under the covers and leaving you in the room for a minute.

he came back with a glass of water, a bag of doritos and a bucket in case you puked during the night.

pink began to walk towards the door but immediately stopped when he heard your voice call out. “you’re leaving?” there was a slight hint of sadness in your tone that made his heart soften.

“no, baby. i’m not leaving. i just gotta go grab some clothes from the car and i’ll be back.”

you nodded and laid down. as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. when pink came back into your bedroom, he was careful to be quiet and not wake you. the boy had changed into a black shirt and some flannels to sleep it. he turned off the light, walking over to the bed and slipping in with you.

even in your sleepy state, you felt his body press against yours and his arms wrap around you. soft kisses where placed on the side of your face until both of you fell asleep.

[theyrealllesbians]

Wedding Season- Chapter 2

James swung the front door open and called out. "Hello!"

Euphemia, his mum, came running from the kitchen. "Jamie, darling. It's so good to see you, it's been too long."

"Mum, it's literally only been a week. I also spoke to you on the phone on Wednesday." He laughed.

"Oh well that's far too long." Euphemia grabbed at his face and brought his forehead down to rest against hers momentarily before pulling back and kissing his cheek. James pretended to ignore the way that she had to go on her tip-toes to reach him, deciding to save the 'you'll always be my baby' lecture until it actually mattered. "Where are Sirius and Remus, I thought that they were coming with you?" She asked, turning towards the kitchen whilst wiping her hands on an apron James recognised from his childhood.

"They couldn't make it. They have some wedding stuff they desperately wanted to get done tonight. Booking vendors or cake tasting or flowers or something like that. Honestly, I can't remember." James had begun to tune Sirius out whenever he spoke about the wedding. It was a never ending rant about carnations and vanilla sponge, burlap or silk, fairy lights or lamps, martinis or an old fashioned and quite frankly, James could not listen to one more second. Besides, Sirius had a way of making every decision seem like a life or death situation. As a result, James would often than not end up getting yelled at when he chose the 'wrong' shade of white for the chairs. He loved Sirius more than anything, but in order to stay friends with him, James had made the executive decision to step back from all wedding decisions. Besides, Remus and the wedding planner told him everything he needed to know as part of being the best man. So he really wasn't missing much. It's not that he didn't expect Sirius to go full on bridezilla, because he did. It's just that he didn't quite realise how many little decisions went into planning a wedding. Since 'helping' Sirius and Remus, James has decided that when he gets married, it'll be a small affair. Probably in his parent's garden, with food that he and his mum cooked, flowers picked from his own garden and outfits that they'd both wear for anniversary dates time and time again. He wanted to be able to remember the love, not the little stressors that -at the time- would seem to derail the entire day.

"Oh, I remember those days. So exciting, but unbelievably stressful, be sure to send them my love. And I'll send you home with some bits and bobs to give them." By 'bits and bobs' James knew he'd be leaving with at least a months worth of food. He'd be playing tetris with his freezer tonight, he would never dare complain though, his mum's food was the best he'd ever tasted. Besides, he would never pass up the opportunity to not have to cook after a long day at work. Sirius and Remus would be endlessly grateful as well.

"I will do. Sirius is desperate to see you, so I'm sure he'll be here next week." James let his mum know.

"Oh well you know he doesn't have to wait till a Sunday to come see me. Even if he just wanted to pop in for lunch, I'd love to have him."

"I know, and he does as well. I think it's just slipped his mind because of how busy he is. I'll remind him though." Sirius had a habit of this, withdrawing whenever life got busy. He'd prioritise his work and keeping the house clean, often forgetting that he could also make time to decompress and see the people he loved. Luckily it only took James or Remus forcing him to leave his office for him to get back into a normal routine in which he wasn't being stretched unbelievably thin or being wound incredibly tight. James could never quite tell if it was some form of trauma response, or whether it was just the way that Sirius was wired. Either way, he's gotten better compared to when they were at school. During A-levels, James doesn't think Sirius left their dorm for anything other than food for at least 2 weeks. Despite the fact that at least 50% of the time, if someone checked on him, he wasn't actually doing any revision. James didn't really understand it. He pulled out his phone and added 'call Moony/ drag Pads out the house' onto his ever growing to do list.

"What can I help with?" James asked, rolling his sleeves up while walking over to the sink to start washing his hands.

"Oh, there's nothing really." His mum responded whilst opening the 5th can of what looked like crushed tomatoes. James looked around and spotted 3 pack of unopened whole chickens, a pile of uncut vegetables and several pots on the hob that were dangerously close to boiling over.

"Mum, stop lying. How about I break down the chicken?" He knew his mum didn't really like cutting the chicken. As she grew older, it just got harder and harder for her to break the bones and separate the breast from the thighs. He grabbed a knife and a chopping board from their respective drawers before she could even answer.

"Oh well, if you don't mind." His mum shrugged before turning round to face him and quickly rattling off a series of instructions. "Make sure you get as much meat of the bones as possible, I won't stand to see it wasted. But keep the bones in the thighs, you know it's your father's favourite bit. Oh, and don't throw away the wish bone. We can break it after dinner. Then I need the breast diced and adding to the pot at the back. The dark meat is going in a new pot. Everything else can get turned into stock. Oh, and be careful! Don't cut yourself!"

James huffed out a laugh, "I'm 26, I think I'll be fine."

"Oh, you never know. They're pesky little things, let me know if you need any help." James turned around to face the chopping board before rolling his eyes. Yes, he was 26, a full grown adult who was no longer living with his parents, but he would not be caught rolling his eyes at his mother. It was a death sentence.

"Will do. Anyways, how've you been?" James asked, unwrapping the first chicken.

"Oh, you know, same old, same old." His mum always said this right before delving into some local drama that was in fact not 'same old, same old'. "Your dad has been driving me mad asking what shade of red roses I want in the garden. And I just quite frankly, do not care. They will look lovely no matter what. Oh, but did I tell you about what happened with the Wilson's?" Here we go.

"No, I don't think you did. Are they the ones with the ginger cat?" James swears that cat should've died years ago. He remembers it from when he was a child. Remembers the way it would try and bite at his ankles any time he walked past.

"Yes, wretched thing. Anyways, apparently Richard tried to murder Margaret last week."

"What?!" James exclaimed, turning around to face his mum. She didn't move.

"Yeah, Judith got a call from him on, when was it, Tuesday I think. Or maybe Wednesday. And she came round and told me straight away. Apparently, Richard had gotten himself in a panic over the online banking as Margaret doesn't know any of the passwords and he tried to smother her with a pillow. The police came round and had to take both mine and your father's statements, even though your dad knew nothing of what was going on. They took him straight to a special care home and are talking about court dates. Bless them though, you never would have guessed it would you."

"No, I suppose not. He always seemed pretty decent. Always gave me the football back after I kicked it in their garden."

"Exactly, and that's what I said to the police. Never would think of him to even hurt a fly. I mean the amount of eggs I have borrowed from him, you'd think he'd want me dead. But no, he always said yes as long as I brought him round a slice of cake I baked, and you know I always did." James let his mother's voice carry him into a slower motion, letting his shoulders drop and jaw relax more than it had in the past week. Something about the smell of his parent's fabric softener and the spices slowly cooking drifted him into a dream like state. One where his own bones grew warm and his skin infinitely softer. He wished he could bottle this feeling and get drunk on it every night.

"James!" His mother yelled, smashing his peace into a thousand splintering pieces.

"What? What's happened?" He span around, eyes trailing over everything trying desperately to spot the danger.

"Nothing." He let out a sigh. "I was asking how you're week had been?"

"Oh, yeah it's been fine. Busy though. I've been working with this little girl, about 7, helping her walk again. She's making really good progress, but she's absolutely terrified. She had this pin through her foot diagonally, and her mum says she accidentally put her foot down quite a bit when she still had it in. Didn't hurt her much, but must've been a weird, uncomfortable sensation. I mean I got the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it. But yeah, it's been really nice seeing her get excited about walking again. Beats having to convince all the 17 year old lads that they won't actually be 'just fine' if they play for their club on Saturday." It's not like he had favourites, but it was easy to say that those who would greet him with a hug and tell him all about their teddies made his day just that bit brighter. James truly loved his job, he had to. If he didn't love it, he wouldn't be able to do it. He never intended to be a paediatric physiotherapist, he always wanted to go into rugby professionally. Ironically, it was Lily who was able to talk him into reconsidering his options, albeit not in the most conventional ways. She had said that he was 'too clever to let his brain get all mangled up, and that he was too much of a good person to let himself pick such a selfish career path filled with egotistical twats'. After a while, he did realise that he wanted to have a secure career and feel like he was making a difference in the world. He couldn't give up sport entirely though. So, during the week, he works for the NHS and in the evenings and at select weekends, he's the physio for the local rugby club. Seeing some of the injuries those players got helped him gain confidence in his decision very quickly.

"That's lovely, darling. Horrible thing for such a young child to go through, but I'm happy she's got the best helping her." His mum winked at him as she said that.

"I mean, it's not as bad as it sounds. She had corrective surgery, but it's meant that she hasn't been able to walk in around 9 months. So I reckon it'll take a while, but she's sweet and her parents are lovely, so I'm happy to spend as long as it takes helping."

"I'm sure that you are, love. You have always been so keen to help others. It is one of your better qualities." His mum grinned at him, suppressing a laugh.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" He asked, adding the chicken to each respective pot.

"We both remember how many phone calls I used to get from Minnie?" His mum says Minnie as, to James and Sirius's horror, she'd ended up becoming quite good friends with McGonagall. In fact, they try to meet up every month for tea and a catch up since they've all finished school.

"That's so not fair. I'm an adult now. I've grown up." James drew out the last syllable, quickly defeating his own argument by sounding like a whiny toddler.

"Yes, yes, of course you have, babu." His mum smiled at him again as she continued to tend to the food cooking. "Did you get the invite for Priya's wedding?" Priya was James's cousin on his mum's side. He actually quite liked her when they were growing up. She was only a year older than him so they formed a little alliance along with his other cousins of a similar age.

"Yeah, yeah I did. I think I got it a couple months ago." James had added it to the shrine of wedding invites adorning his fridge. "Yeah, it's at the end of August right?"

"The 31st, yes. Remember, a lot of family that we haven't seen in ages is flying over, so you better be on your best behaviour." His mum fixed him with a firm stare.

"Again, I am 26." He knew this would have little to no effect on his mum's conviction that somehow he'd become the family laughing stock in one singular evening.

"Okay. Still, make sure that you are letting everyone see how happy and successful you are. You know that I only want you to be happy, but my sisters aren't as forward thinking as me so be sure to mention that you are top of your field."

"Well that's a lie." James replied outright, furrowing his brows in confusion whilst laughing to himself. He'd only been in the field for 3 years, so he wasn't sure what his mum was on about.

"You've got the best reviews in your hospital." His mum replied matter-of-factly, as if they were at all comparable.

"Okay, yes, sure. I'll be sure to tell them about my career so that you can have bragging rights." He chuckled as he said this.

"James! Take this seriously!" His mum started waving the spoon she had in her hand in his direction. James was forced to take a step back to save his freshly ironed shirt from being stained.

"Yes, James, take it seriously!" His father added, walking into the kitchen while shaking his finger in a comedic manner. "You know how important it is for your mother to brag to others about our family. You can't let her down by underselling your achievements." His dad had a cheeky smile dancing across his lips showing that he didn't take it seriously either, but Fleamont Potter would never be caught, even in death, not having his wife's back.

"Oh, if you can, be sure to mention that Remus has just opened his own business and that Sirius wrote and directed the christmas nativity!"

"Will do." James and his dad reply in unison.

"Oh, and James? Are you bringing a date?" silver eyes flashed through James's mind, "I only ask because everyone has been asking me if you've met anyone!"

"I wasn't planning on it." James shrugged, trying his best to act nonchalant.

"You might want to rethink that kid. You know how your mother's family can be once they sense a bit of drama." James shuddered a little at the thought of answering a hundred questions about his love life after he'd drank a couple glasses of wine.

"Oh, come off it. My family is not like that. They all just care about James's happiness, that's all. Don't make it out to be something cruel." His mum sniped back. His dad only looked at James again, a long pointed look.

"I'll think about it." James said. Surely it wouldn't be too hard to find a date, if only for a couple weddings.

"Oh! Does that mean you already have someone in mind?" His mum swung her head round so she could look at James. Walking forward to grip his forearms.

"Mum!" He exclaimed, "I just said that I would think about it!" The feeling of fluffy black hair beneath his fingertips shot down his spine.

"Oh! You're blushing! There is someone!" His mum was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Mum…" James groaned, hanging his head.

"Euphie, leave him alone. If the boy says there's no one, there's no one. We have to believe what he tells us, otherwise we'll go insane." His dad placed a hand on his mum's shoulder and steered her away from James.

"Thanks. I guess?" James smiled at his dad. His dad simply grinned and winked right back. Great, so his dad did not believe what he was saying either, and his mum was clearly already planning his wedding.

Brilliant.

[lesquatrechevrons]

TCW Multigenerational timeloop AU

@cacodaemonia and @anxiousotters thank you for asking about the AU! 💖💖💖

it’s all because I am fascinated by what kind of societies/communities the clones would foster given the chance, time and space to do so and also because I wonder what happens to those survivors of o66 that we don’t hear about (and have not died T_T). And lastly, because I Am Not Immune To The Grandfather Paradox and how this can play out!

TLDR: surviving clones recover, rebuild their numbers & raise each other in a liminal place away from The War. Things are so every cycle the Oldest Generation will pass away and be reborn as the Youngest; knowledge needs to be taught from generation to generation. No one knows (not even me) if this cycle will break one day, but the clones do understand that every few cycles the stars are in position for them to mess with the GFFA time continuum. Will they? If yes, how? If not, what does this cycle of rebirth mean for the culture they choose to create?

Much longer rambling (and super rough sketches! At the end!) under the cut!

The rambling explanation:  

I have 2 versions in mind:

The one with no legends characters (straight TCWs only), would probably need much ‘hand-wavy’ will of the force: some of the survivors find a pocket of time (inner core planet/sheltered galaxy like exagol that follows its own rules) and ~something~ causes them to be reborn at every cycle; example, you have old Dogma teaching a teenage Boil holding a toddler 99. In 40 years Dogma will be reborn and the cycle begins again. Plus, (vague idea) there is a temporal window that will allow them to ‘come back’ but only in the 10 years before and 10 years after TCW. They (I) don’t know if there are conditions to meet that will break any of their cycles. 

the one with some Legends characters, what they find from the clones genetic research jumpstarts the hope to “fix” the galaxy. They find a remote planet in the inner core, set up embryo batches much like Kamino, raise themselves communally, wait their chance to understand ‘what is their purpose’. I would think Spar is around (instead of dying, sharing Jango’s memories in a sort of ‘Postmortem: what went wrong’), as well as Mereel (given he and the RepComm cast synthesised the cure). And I still like the idea of a time window, except this time is ‘with the power of pettiness, revenge, and this apocryphal force temple I found’ flavour, and it would allow them to mess with the TCW until they get the outcome they want. 

So, my many questions that I am rotating for both AUs are:

In AU #2, which outcome would ‘strategy trained’ classes vs the troopers want for 3 millions of themselves? It would be an occasion to think about how different clone classes (Nulls Alphas CCs CTs etc) think of what ‘fixing’ something is. Also what kind of society do you create if your role is determined by your body type? And if you don’t have external stressors like pure survival, would you allow diversity? Would you level the playing ground by giving new generations access to the same modifications you have?

Would there be non-clones around? (It would be fun if every ‘Window in time’ cycle the clones grab a few key people - and see how they impact things).

In both AUs, if you could learn at the knee of a previous version of yourself, would you still be you? Maybe they have batches of clones eligible to ‘be’ one of ‘the originals’, chosen based on tests (because the early generations all they knew was testing). If you could prevent your future-past self, would you? How would a ‘4th generation Ponds’(from either AU) behave, if it was raised and taught with the experiences by previous versions of himself and the mistakes he made to try and save his men/Mace/Boba?

Would they enforce command top down (as this is all they have known), or would they learn/discover other ways to organise themselves? 

Do you isolate yourself from the galaxy? Or do you live as if one day you will ‘rejoin’ it? And if you think that you need to ‘prepare’ for something, will you? Will you run? Will you allow those that do not want to fight (Slick, Cut), to not to?

NOTE: I realised that I didn’t mention any specific ships or characters because I tend to think in terms of worldbuilding first and this idea is so… formless… I can’t even begin listing of who would drive the narration here. I’m imagining a choral cast because rocks are hewn by hammering them one hundred times, rather than one single hit.

And the�� very rough… sketches!! Mistakes abound. As you can tell I’m going for a vibe of ‘teenagers without the canon terrible stressors’.

Wow!! This is so much more than I thought I had to say about this AU! I always get stuck on such big questions that I can’t answer (I am just not a plotter enough to make them a believable story), as well as the sheer mountain of material I need to read (RepComm, the games, so many episodes in TCWs…)(I need 72 hours long days!!!)

but if you have any feedback, or if you want to play in this sandbox, please do feel free to do so!!! <3<3<3 And thank you if you made it this far in my rambles!!

[doin-just-fine]

The People Wanna Know: Dissociation

Q: “How do you tell when you’re dissociating, and what kinds are there?”

A: 🛸 Great question! When figuring out my plurality we had a few questions about dissociating and how to tell the difference between that and being lost in thought and blah blah blah. SO! Here's what we've got for you!

🛸 Many people will describe dissociating as "checking out" which is super vague and leave a lot of questions as to what exactly that means. Not to mention that some people just kind of live in a state of dissociation and don't have a reference of "normal" so I will try to give you both. What does it mean, feel like, look like to dissociate? Meaning: Dissociating happens when there is too much stress for the mind to handle. Things like a traumatic event can cause dissociation or just everyday mundane situations that lead to dissociation like going on auto pilot when you're driving or reading a book. Immediately after a traumatic even it's that feeling where time slows and nothing feels real like you're watching the events around on a tv screen instead of being there in persons. I think what most people wonder about or need clarification on is random moments of dissociation due to an over active trauma response. Most systems experience long term trauma that puts them in a constant state of fight or flight. This causes them to have a very overactive stress response when they are finally in a safe environment. Sometime people feel as though they dissociate for no reason, others over things most would consider minor stressors, on top of the majors stressors that just come with life. Having an over active stress response like this can lead to dissociation disorders like derealization (feeling like the world around you isn't real) and depersonalization (feeling like you yourself are not real). These occur typically when someone lives in a state of dissociation more often than not but can also be used to describe the the sensation dissociation at any given time.

Feeling: This varies person to person/system to system. As previously stated you have the feeling of the world around you not feeling real and the feeling of you yourself not being real. You can also feel both of these at the same time which can be very disorienting. This can lead to struggling to follow conversations or can feel like you're half listening to someone but splitting with out actually splitting your attention externally. It can feel like playing a 1st person video game. It can also feel like not processing information in real time. Dissociation is basically a disconnect from your surrounding, mind, body, emotion, identity, and memories. Dissociation can look like any one of these things on it's own or in combination with another. For us it's typically an emotional dissociation rather than a personal or surrounding feeling. In moments of stress our emotions turn off and we don't really feel things as they happen. If we're lucky, only in hindsight can we break down what we were feeling if at all. This can look like no feelings period or being calm cool and collected only to breakdown later about the stress. For those of us who don't experience a constant state of depersonalization or derealization, dissociating can be easiest to identify after the fact. Dissociation can affect the memories of an event making them difficult to recall or align correctly, something you only notice after the event has passed and you try to recall it, or feeling your emotion switch turn back on and having everything hit you at once but only when you feel safe again, or tuning back into your surrounding and realizing you missed your bus stop. Dissociation can also feel inward. Like you are retreating into you mind. Things may feel far away or even sound far away. If you can hear your headmates talk in your headspace, dissociation can be retreating internally and being pulled into headmate thoughts or conversations. This is one we observe in our partner system. We'll be talking to them and we'll see their eyes glaze over or they don't response and when we grab their attention they'll say something along the lines of "people are being loud" or "people are having big feelings". This kind of dissociating is also what switching can feel like for some.

Look: Not all dissociation is visually identifiable but if it is it typically look like the person not moving, staring off into space, speaking but clearly internally preoccupied, confusion. They may look like they aren't listening or maybe they look a bit lost. They may have a slow response time or may lose track of their thoughts a lot. But for some, like us, they can just look "normal". Looking normal is a survival technique. Some people, like us, were brought up in an environment where fully checking out was not safe. Some people never disconnect from their surrounding because they had to be aware of everything around them all the time. This is valid. The brain is an amazing thing and is capable of multitasking even if that multitasking is being aware of your surroundings while also checking out from them. I do it all the time.

🛸Differences between Dissociating and: - Brain fog: Brain fog is just general confusion and slow thinking and processing. This typically come without feeling like the world or yourself isn't real or difficulty recalling the moments of brain fog or feeling disconnected from your emotions. If one prone to dissociation the feeling brain fog can lead to dissociating. - Being lost in thought: Being lost in thought can be a form of dissociation. However, there is planning your day and then theres dissociating about your day. Planning your day feels like your actively participating in it and dissociating about your day feels like your disconnected from it.

🛸I hope this was helpful! This is what we've gathered knowledge and experience wise on the topic of dissociation. If you have anything else to add pls reblog with your additions so people who need the recourse can see it! If you have any more questions about dissociation or if you need any clarification leave a comment or ask me directly!

REMEMBER: You're gonna be ok. You're gonna figure it out. Be kind and gentle with yourself and others. Asks are open. Have a nice day.

[androgynousblackbox]

How I Met Your Father. 5 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

A03 link

“What do you mean go to the hotel?” Lucifer had asked as those words were truly incomprehensible, washing up the dishes and then passing it over to Alastor to dry them up.

“Our daughter is losing her mind” said Alastor, choosing his words. “I think it would be good for her to see that you support her project.”

“But I thought I was doing that already? I gave her Keekee and all the money she could want to use on it.”

Alastor barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“If that was all she wouldn't have asked me to convince you to come pay a proper visit.” He didn't mention why Charlie wanted the visit in the first place. They could all talk about that bridge when they came to it. Going to a technically new place on his humanoid form was already a big stressor to on top of that mention anything about addressing Heaven directly. “She wants to see you there. As yourself, so she can show you around. Isn't that the most normal thing for a child to want?”

“I don't know… ”

Alastor finished drying up the plate on his hand and put it aside on the rack, going up to place his hands over Lucifer's shoulders. He massaged them a little until he could finally sense the devil releasing the tension that coming out had brought.

“It will be fine, love. You already saw the hotel once, there is nothing scary about it. Just think of how happy it could make her. We both will be right there with you.”

Lucifer sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

“Charlie won't want to present her father on another form, does she?”

“No, darling.”

“I could be a cute panda. Everyone loves pandas.”

Alastor didn't even dignify that with a response. Lucifer rubbed his eyes and turned around, supporting his weight against the sink. His eyes were fixated on the bowtie of Alastor and started playing with it, as if to fix it.

“Dear.”

Lucifer groaned, letting his head fell back.

“I know, I know. I… I need some time to prepare myself first" he let out a long, sustained sigh. "I will be there. Can you give me an hour?"

"An hour? Are you sure, darling?"

Alastor wasn't expecting such a short timeframe. Lucifer heard the surprise in his voice and shrugged.

"Yeah. If I postpone it any longer then it will only be harder later and I don't want to keep Charlie waiting forever" Lucifer hugged himself, his shoulder slouched. "Can you go and tell Charlie that? I will be there."

"I can go with you if you wish" offered, brushing his fingers against the red cheek.

"No, I… I don't want to stay glued at your side the entire time. Not if it's in front of her new friends."

"I will kill them if they say a word" promised without hesitation. He was not going to let his husband be mocked in front of him. That was his privilege, no one else. "They are going to know what is to be turn inside out if they disrespect me or my family."

Lucifer gave out a small laugh, looking up.

"Don't kill the friends of our daughter" asked, turning his head to kiss the palm of Alastor and then nuzzled it. "I will be fine. You are right. I already sorta know the place. I should know already that nothing is going to happen."

Alastor didn't know if he was going to keep thinking the same when Charlie talked to him about what she really wanted. But between a anxious daughter that was losing sleep over impending doom and an also anxious husband who struggled with going out home, he really didn't had many options.

"I will be there with you if you need me" Alastor kissed his forehead and then hummed satisfied when Lucifer pulled him down to connect their lips. "You will be fine" said as they shared the same breath, the smell of Lucifer's recent dessert still sweet.

Lucifer nodded, bringing him closer by the hip as he kissed him again. Alastor knew where this was going and if he gave his husband the chance, they were just going to procrastinate all over the kitchen. Normally he wouldn't mind at all, but Charlie needed the update. It had been years since he ever saw her so stressed out.

"We will wait for you, love" said, giving one quick kiss before he called onto his shadows to take him out Lucifer's embrace.

Lucifer stayed with his arms stretched out, hugging nothing, and grunted.

"Fine. But now I need a cold shower."

"That is the spirit, darling! I will go tell our daughter the news!"

Alastor gave him a last wink before he teleported away from the man, ignoring the pout on his husband. He would live and if everything turned out alright, Alastor would compensate him later anyway.

When he came back to the hotel and told Charlie about their new visitor, the princess of hell positively squealed.

"Really?! You convinced him to contact Heaven, dad?!"

"I convinced him to come here and talk to you directly" pointed out Alastor. "After that, I will leave things to you, dear. That is what being a manager entails. Don't worry, I am sure you will do a wonderful job."

Charlie blinked, taken aback, but just as quickly her enthusiasm returned.

"Yes, you are right! I can do this. Alright, everyone!" called to the sinners on the livingroom, applauding to get their attention. "My other dad is coming to pay a visit and we have to present this place in the best way that we can! Let's make him feel welcome so he will hear my case!"

The enthusiasm of the other sinners was not exactly matched, but they still moved anyway. Niffty did her best to clean up the area jumping from place to place with her supplies. Sir Pentious went to prepare some snacks, while Angel and Husk, per Charie's suggestion, went to make some banners to hang. Alastor likewise prepared some of the favorite tunes of Lucifer on their rockola, hoping that would help him to keep relaxed.

When everything was set up and done, the doorbell rang and Charlie went to open the door. Lucifer reacted just as he always did whenever he haven't seen Charlie since the day before, like it had been ages since the last time they were together, crushing her on a bear hug that left Charlie breathless. Vaggie received the same treatment as well.

"It's so nice to see your hotel for the very first time, sweetie!" said Lucifer particularly loud. "Yep, this totally… unique style of decoration is something I never seen before in my entire life! So new for me!"

God damn it, Lucifer.

Alastor didn't know what else was he expecting. He squeezed his brow between his fingers, wondering how the father of lies could be so bad at them, before noticing that Lucifer had stopped right in front of him, reclining on his staff.

"Oh, and who is this cutie right here?" asked his husband with a cheeky grin.

Alastor barely contained his laughter. What an idiot.

"I am nothing but the hotelier of this magnificent establishment, your Majesty. At your service" Two could play that game.

"Hotelier, huh? Do you offer room service?" Lucifer's eyebrows went up and down.

"That is not part of my job description, no."

Lucifer's smile only grew more. Alastor couldn't say that he didn't like it when he got that mischiveious look on his face, like seeing a trace of the devil that he truly was.

"How about you pay me a visit when your shift is over? I can make it worth your time."

Alastor now chuckled openly, regarding the man with a half lid look.

"Your Majesty, that is so highly inappropriate. I am on work hours here."

"Oh, that is okay, babe. My daughter is the owner of this place, I can get away with everything" Lucifer winked an eye and Alastor had to look away because this whole stupid thing was working on him.

"Papa!" Charlie wasn't as happy, looking equal parts frustrated and flustered. "Stop flirting with dad" added in a whisper that everyone could still hear.

Lucifer giggled to himself. Alastor took a step forward and let his hand rest on the back of Lucifer's neck, casually brushing his thumb against the skin. He could percieve some tension there, but only some and he hoped that was a good sign. Just in case he squeezed a bit the skin there to let Lucifer know he counted with his support.

"I am sorry, sweetie, I couldn't resist" said the king, putting an arm around Alastor's waist. It had been a while since they had an opportunity to act this way in public so he could understand that much. He also liked to reclaim his husband in front of others, make them know this man was already taken. "You prepared all of this for me? Aww, sweetie…" said just as one of the banner fell into the floor, taking a couple of balloons with it, "you shouldn't have bothered."

"Everyone did actually!" Charlie grabbed the arm of her father, separating her parents as Alastor chuckled, following behind. "We were all so excited to receive you today. These are our current residents, Sir Pentious and Angel Dust. They did some incredible work since being here! They are totally on the way to redemption!"

Sir Pentious gave a reverence, victorian man that he was, as Angel Dust offered up his hand for a shake. Followed up by the sound of her tiny steps, Niffty came running to stay in front of Lucifer.

"Oooh, you are just as pretty as Alastor said!" commented with a giggle, rubbing her own face. The eye of Alastor twitched when Lucifer looked over at him. Once. He had said that once. "I bet you can be very scary when you want to! Does Alastor like to be forced too? He won't tell me."

"Uh…"

"Okay, so that was Niffty, our maid!" Charlie dragged Lucifer away.

Nifty was about to chase him to demand her answer when Alastor grabbed her by the back of her dress.

"Niffty, dear, what did we say about badgering my husband? Only I get to badger him."

Niffty looked at him with the deceitful innocence of pure morbid curiosity.

"Do you like him when he is scary?"

Yes, but that wasn't the point, the time, the place or the person he would say that to. In other circumstances he found the unhinged character of the tiny woman rather amusing, when he wasn't the target of it.

"Dear, I think I saw a bunch of bugs on the corner that need to be taught a lesson. You think you can handle that? I think I heard them say that they were feeling rather good for their future move here."

"Oh, are they happy?" Niffty took some scissor from behind her back, her attention succesfully redirected. "I bet I can fix that! I will cut their legs one by one."

"I bet you can, dear. Off you go" Alastor let her on the floor again as she ran off, chasing her target. Ah, he could never stay mad at her for long when she was so cute filled with murderous intention. Like a ravenous bunny.

Lucifer now was shaking the hand of Husk.

"Yeah, of course I remember you. You were the best babysitter for Charlie we ever had. She actually got to sleep early with you!"

The fact that their options were between Husk and a bunch of personified sins who didn’t have the first idea of how to take care of a child was not mentioned.

"She was a good kid, it wasn't difficult" Husk avoided looking at the king as he scratched his neck. He clearly wasn't used to compliments. "Good to see you again, sir."

"Who is sir? Come on, we have known each other for years. You can call me by my name. I gotta say, didn't know you were working here too" pointed out throw gritted teeth, looking back to Alastor.

"It just never came out" said, shrugging, and truly didn't. "But isn't it lovely? Charlie gets to be surrounded by even more people looking out for her."

For a moment both Husk and Lucifer shared the same arched eyebrow.

"Right" Lucifer smiled to Husk. "So, how it has been?"

Husk made some vague gesture in the air, as if he didn't have enough time to tell all of his grievances, and then deflated.

"It could have been worse" admitted finally and Angel Dust laughed.

"We love you too, Husky!"

"Nobody was talking to you, Angel."

Lucifer laughed, patting the cat's arm.

"I see you are still the grumpy man I knew. And…" said, grabbing his by the shoulder to separate them a bit from Charlie, "how has my little girl being doing her work here? Be honest with me, come on."

"I mean" Husk looked over at Alastor, who did nothing but smile wider at him, and that was enough to make him swallow a bit harder. "She… is really trying. Everyone is trying here, sir. Lucifer. That is honestly the best I could ever tell you. Angel and Pentious, they both have been doing better since coming here, I think" he said that, avoiding looking at the two residents.

Lucifer tilted his head to a side.

"Are you in it for the redemption too, Husk?"

"Me? No, no, your Majesty, that is not my thing. But I still got eyes so, you know. Just making an observation."

"Thanks for the input, Husker! Deeply appreciated!" interrupted Alastor, taking the shoulders of Lucifer to separate him from Husk, whose only response was to roll his eyes. It wasn't the first time something like that happened. "My darling, I think we are owed a tour through this magnificent and well decorated hotel of our daughter. Isn't that right, my little fawn?"

Lucifer didn't miss the emphasis on the first "my" and he contained a chuckled through biting his lips. A slight blush on his face gave Alastor the immediate impulse to bite his cheek. But that would have to be for later.

"Yes, of course" Charlie nodded, dedicating a smile to Husk as if to thank him for his words. "Come with me, papa."

Lucifer took the arm that his daughter was offering, smiling up to her as she exposed everything that she had been doing with the place. Alastor gave a final smirk to Husk, who turned to keep drinking from his bottle, before teleporting through his shadow to follow his family.

Charlie talked about all the activities they had done and the progress of the residents. Alastor mostly tuned out because none of that was news to him, keeping his attention mostly on Lucifer. He seemed to be doing fine for now, fidgeting with his hand at the side that Charlie wasn't touching by pulling the fabric of his pocket. Alastor step up to place his hand again at the back of his neck and he was happy to see that made him relax a bit more.

They were walking around the third floor, showing off the second biggest room of the hotel, when Alastor heard Husk calling him. Mimzy was downstair looking for him.

"Who?" asked Lucifer.

"An old lady friend, darling. We actually met in life before coming here" Alastor rubbed his back. "I will leave you in the capable hands of our little fawn for now." He didn’t bothered counting Vaggie. She didn’t counted.

"Does she know?" asked Lucifer as Alastor was about to turn away.

"Nope, she is the worst gossip I know! Literally incapable of keeping a secret to save her life, ha ha! But such a fun company otherwise. So if you go downstair, we literally just met today, my love" added, taking a kiss with him before they had to be strangers. "Charlie, your beautiful antlers have nothing to do with my own. You were just blessed with them by chance."

"Alright, dad" Charlie was thankfully used to this escenario, so include another person around with to pretend being unrelated wasn't a big ask for her.

"That is my girl!" Alastor closed the door, walking next to Husk. After a while on them being on silence, he grinned wider. "Is there anything in your mind, dear friend?"

"I think we should just kick her out."

"Oh? Do you?"

Husk tensed up for a moment. He was walking on thin ice and he knew it.

"You know her pattern. She only appears when she needs something out of you and it's never just a small favor with her."

"Well, then that it's only all the more fortunate that it's me that we are talking about" Alastor searched his glove on his pocket and put it on. "Don't worry, I know to handle it."

Husk frowned, letting a moment of silence pass by before he spoke again.

"I don't understand why it has to be a secret. If anyone tries any shit then you can just have Lucifer kicking their…" he didn't finish the phrase when Alastor's smiling face was on his front, neck brocken to look down to him. The presence of the green magic put the hairs on his arms straight, as if the static was forcing them up.

"You seem to have a serious misunderstanding of how things work around here, old pal" The smile of Alastor looked like a knife ready to stab. "You aren't here to question me on how I decide to protect my family. You are here to keep your mouth shut and serve drinks for the hotel of my daughter, for as long she needs you to. Anything else is pushing it already. Are we clear?"

Husk knew the answer already. Of course he knew.

"Like water."

"Wonderful" Alastor came back to his casual disposition like nothing happened. "Then let us not keep a lady waiting any longer!”

On the lobby, Mimzy had already served herself a drink at the bar and was in the middle of drinking it up when she saw the familiar shadow of Alastor forming from the ground.

“Alastor! You tall handsome rascal! Where have you been hiding? Come here!” The woman squeezed him and Alastor did just the same. “When was the last time you showed your face around the club? I keep passing by and everyone is too modern, they don't know the classic moves like you and me.”

“Oh, I have been a little busy with my new job” commented as Mimzy sat at one of the stools.“Going to sleep early doesn't mesh well with the night club life, unfortunately.”

Mimzy snorted at the start of a laugh and then stopped when she saw that Alastor was not about to join her.

“Wait, seriously? You taking this hotel thing for real? I thought everyone was joking when I heard the rumors that now you were wasting your days on this dump from the Morningstar kid. What was her name anyway, Chrisly? Carla? Something with C.”

Alastor's eyes squinted at that, but otherwise kept his posture just the same.

“Charlie” said, making a slight gesture for Husk to serve him a small shot of his favorite drink. He could take his alcohol well enough and he felt he needed a little cushion against his own instincts to defend his daughter. When he had the first zip, he could relax again. “Now you see, the rumors were true. This is my new home.”

“And what are you actually doing here? Cleaning up toilets and singing songs about friendship and hope?” Mimzy put her finger close to her mouth, pretending to vomit.

“That among other things.”

Mimzy smirked with the side of her mouth, like waiting for the punchline of a joke that never came. When Alastor didn't elaborate, she huffed.

“Fine, don't tell a girl what you have been plotting in that deer head of yours.”

“Plotting? Me? Couldn't it be that I have seen the light and want to make a change for the better? So little faith you have in your old pal Alastor? I could be redeemed too, you know.”

They looked at each other for a second before Alastor chuckled and Mimzy exploded in laughter. Now that was the kind of joke she was expecting.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Mimzy sighed, cleaning up a tear from her eye. “For a second there I thought I didn't know you.”

“I am the same as always, my dear” Alastor rubbed his thumb against the ring under his glove. “It's not so bad here. I got my own radio tower to do my broadcast and unless there is an emergency, I can spend my time however I like.”

“Hope whatever is that you are looking for is worth it” Mimzy finished up her drink and served herself another, just after Husk put the bottle in front of her. “Oh! Speaking of enjoying your time, what happened with that handsome blue demon you went to the club that time? Are you still seeing each other? If not, do you know if he is available?”

Alastor did not look, but he knew that Angel and Pentious were observing with their mouth open. They knew best than to ask questions right there and then at least. Husk made a gesture for the two of them come closer and whisper into their ears, probably to explain that was merely one of the forms that Lucifer adopted during their dates. That way, even if someone knew about the face of the king he couldn’t be recognized. As long he wasn’t presenting as himself, not just in animal form, it was easier then to handle the outside world. Lucifer had a bunch of forms for their outings together, even changing genders if he felt like it.

Alastor liked all of them, but he had to admit was one of his favorites was the blue one. If only because Lucifer had made up a whole backstory about being a dealer on the black market and to go along with it, he became a cocky and arrogant demon that still regarded him with the manners of a gentleman. It was the closest one to Lucifer’s true personality when he felt fully confident on his environment. On their last date to the casino, Lucifer had danced with him until Alastor had to be the one to ask a break, for the first time ever, and then they stayed on their booth to talk the rest of the night, kissing and laughing. It had been wonderful.

“Mmm” said Mimzy, observing him with a kind of attention that made Alastor realize he must had revealed something on his face, unintentionally so.”I will take that as a yes to my first question then.”

Alastor cleared his throat.

“Yes, well, he is a fine company. Nothing too serious.”

“Does that mean I can get his number or…”

“No.”

Mizmy shrugged.

“Suit yourself. But you know, between him and that chick I saw you with another time” Also Lucifer, becoming a happy go lucky succubus. That one attracted a lot of attention from other men. He didn’t like that, but enjoyed that Lucifer giggled a lot and at all times at least some part of him was looking to be in contact with Alastor as part of his role “you have become quite the casanova. I literally never would have guessed with how you were before.”

If only she knew.

“Hey, not to interrupt, folks, but I couldn't help to listen and I have to ask” Angel pointed at Alastor, looking at Mimzy. “You said this guy went to a club? For dancing?”

Alastor frowned, debating himself between being offended or confused by the question.

“Oh, yeah, for sure! Even when we were upstairs, Alastor could go like no other on the dance floor after taking enough shot to throw an elephant. He was the only guy who could keep up with me. You wouldn't know it because he likes to be a big meanie, but he is a total sweetheart when he wants to be.”

“Is that so?” Angel grinned, looking first at Alastor and then at the rockola playing some soft music. “You know, we have that thing over there that nobody is taking advantage of and so much space. If Smiley here has such a reputation, it would be kind of a waste to not put it to good use.”

Alastor saw the way that one of the lower arms of Angel was taking out his phone, ready to record, and he had to internally laugh. Even if he could record anything, all he would get was someone who actually knew what to do with their feet. Unlike whatever unsightly nonsense young people were doing in the clubs someone like Angel would frequent.

“Oh! I haven't seen one of those in ages!” Mimzy jumped out of her seat to go see it, taken aback when she read the titles. “What the hell is up with all this corny selection?”

Alastor was about to recommend a piece when a sudden portal opened up in the center of the lobby and a distressed Lucifer came, with Charlie and Vaggie going behind. It took every part of Alastor's will to not immediately go to them.

“Papa, please, listen!” was begging Charlie.

“No, no, no, definitely no, absolutely no” Lucifer shook his head, grabbing his hat like some kind of shield as his breathing became quicker. “I can do a lot of things for you, but that is a step too far!”

“It's just one meeting, dad, that is all I need! Please!”

Lucifer looked pained as he gave a quick glance to Vaggie, who looked away, before coming back to his daughter.

“Duckling, I love you, but you don't know what heaven is like…”

An explosion cut out the rest of Lucifer's word. The entire building shook, debris falling everywhere. On top of them the chain holding the biggest chandelier gave up. Lucifer reacted faster that any of them could replicate, grabbing Charlie to take her out of the way and pulling out his wings to form a shield around of the two. Everyone was looking at the entrance, where some guys were calling out for Mimzy, but Alastor only had eyes to see the back of Lucifer as he was hiperventaling inside of his shield.

"What the fuck did you do!?" Husk was reclaiming out of Mimzy.

Mimzy explained something about owning money or killing someone. Alastor could not care less. Lucifer had been doing so well the entire time. He had been flirting, walking, talking perfectly fine until then. They had ruined it all. They had almost gotten his daughter hurt.

"Papa, it's okay, just breath, it's okay" he could hear the voice of Charlie, trying to calm down Lucifer. "I am fine, you see? Nothing happened, papa, please listen…"

They had to die, decided as he went outside to meet them on his full demonic form. And it wasn't going to be a quick death either, he would make sure of that.

At the start of the carnage, the others came out to see out of curiosity. By the end, Angel had vomited on the side, Pentious had to turn away to avoid passing out and Husk had to cover Niffty's eyes so she wouldn't get any inspiration for the future.

"Oh, well" said Mimzy when he was finally done, returning to his normal form, walking over some intestines. "You… really needed to release some steam, didn't you? You went all out there."

Alastor did not respond. He spit someone's bone to the side, a tiny one from a hand.

"Uhm, thank you for saving me, Alastor. I knew I could count with you. You are always the best."

"Don't come back."

Mimzy froze.

"Come again?"

Alastor sighed, grabbing his cane with a strong grip before he turned around. He didn't mind all the spot of demon blood that was spilled all over his suit. He was usually more careful with his food, but there was always that one exception.

"I said, please, don't come back" said, regaining his composure with each word. It wasn't the fault of Mimzy. She just did what she always did and he allowed it to happen. That was his mistake. "I usually don't mind these kind of situation you get yourself involved with. But right now things are different. I can't risk something like this happening again, not here."

Not with his family there.

"Are… are you serious? Come on, Al, don't tell me that you care about that redemption thing after all."

"That has nothing to do" Alastor started walking his way back to the entrance, calling on his shadows to clean up what he had left. "If you ever do decide to change, which we both know is unlikely, then you are welcome to come in. Until then, I am afraid I can't do this anymore."

Mimzy reacted cussing him out, exactly as he expected from her, but she would be fine, as long she got herself out of trouble for a while. Their friendship could withstand this. Once he made sure that she was gone, he came inside to find that Lucifer had opened up his wings, just enough for him to see him hugging onto Charlie. He seemed to have calmed down a bit, but the look on his eyes when he saw him was enough to make the rest of the way to join their hug.

"Dad… is that blood?"

"Yes, dear" Alastor kissed the top of her head.

"You stink, babe" pointed out Lucifer with a weak laughter.

Alastor would not have the others watching this. He hugged the two of them as close as he could and let them all be consumed by his power. When the dakrness receeded they were back on his own room, where he knew Lucifer already felt safe in. They remained on that exact position a while longer, until Lucifer finally broke the silence.

"Babe, you really stink. What did you even do?"

"Took care of some cockroaches" Despite everything, Alastor had a proud smirk while saying that. "I don't think I am having dinner today."

"Gross, dad" Charlie chuckled. She took out a hankerchief from her suit to try to at least clean some of Alastor's face, but quickly gave up when the whole fabric was stained. "Everything is good now?"

Alastor nodded, keeping an arm around Lucifer's shoulder. Bad smell or not, his husband still leaned into him as he retracted his wings until they finally dissapeared.

"I left the shadows cleaning up outside. I will have everything repaired in a few hours."

"No rush, dad" Charlie sighed, looking down at the hankerchief on her hands before hesitantly looking at Lucifer. "So… still a no?"

Lucifer looked up to the ceiling, as if giving up, and closed his eyes.

"Okay. But with one condition" said when he finally opened them up again.

Charlie perked up.

"Anything, papa."

"Take Vaggie with you."

Charlie blinked, clearly surprised.

"I… sure, I was planning to do that if I could."

Lucifer tilted his head to the side.

"Do you think Vaggie will be okay with that?" asked gently.

"Why wouldn't…? "Charlie frowned for a second, confused by the question, until finally the light reached her eyes and she let out a small oh of understanding. "You know about her."

Lucifer nodded.

"It's like a smell. Angels and fallen ones have it different. I was wondering if you knew."

"Yes, I kinda saw it happen. When she fell" Charlie sighed, hugged the middle of Lucifer and the man responded in kind, petting her hair. "It was awful, dad. She was sparring some kid from the cannibal town. They ripped her wings out and took her eye because she showed mercy."

Lucifer kissed her head. Alastor took one of her hands and squeezed it once.

"That is the kind of place heaven is, sweetheart. Are you sure you still want to go?"

Charlie lifted her head, her eyes sad but just as determined as they were before.

"I have to try, dad. What other alternative there is? Letting all sinners get killed? Sinners like dad or uncle Husk?"

"Nothing is going to happen to me, little fawn" said Alastor, but Charlie shook her head.

"Even so, I can't stand this anymore" said, looking up to Lucifer. An accusatory glance passed through her eyes, the question of why he let any of this happen in the first place, battling with her own feelings towards the kings himself. Finally the second competitor won and she sighed. It didn't mattered how the exterminations happened now, it mattered to deal with them now. "I know it's a long shot, but I can do it."

"Very well" Lucifer looked so extremely tired. Alastor nuzzled the side of his head. "Take Vaggie, keep close to her. And please text me as soon you get back."

"Thank you" Charlie lifted out to hug the man from the neck. Alastor saw her lip trembling a second before her eyes were overflowing. "I am so sorry that heaven sucks so fucking much, papa."

Not surprising for Alastor at all, Lucifer started crying freely too. Even when Charlie was a baby this too also happened. It was a thing.

"And I am sorry you have to see it how much it sucks, duckling. I love you so much!"

"I love you too, papa!"

As father and daughter embraced each other, Alastor took that as his cue for finally go to take a shower. When he came back, dressed on his casual clothing, Lucifer had enchanted away all the stains he had left from he and Charlie, the two of them laying on his bed. He had kinda expecting Charlie to already be on her way out, but didn't mind the extra company as climbed on the bed too next to them.

"How are you doing, love?" asked Alastor, brushing away some blonde strangs of Lucifer that were over his forehead.

"Better now" Lucifer sighed, his head searching for more contact. He nuzzled the top of Charlie's head. "Please, come back safe."

"I will" Charlie gave both of them a kiss on the cheek as she rised up. "Thanks for trusting me. I will make you both proud."

"You always do" said Alastor, watching her go to the door.

She dedicated them one last smile, wishing them goodnight before she was gone. Alastor let himself fall to the bed again, looking over Lucifer, who seemed just about ready to give out.

"Darling, you need to get changed" pointed out. When his fallen angel looked just beat, he sighed and went over to undress him himself. "Seriously, what are you, a child?"

"You knew that is what she wanted to ask when you told me to come here" said Lucifer, still doing nothing to avoid or help Alastor's tentacles to take out his booths and then his coat.

"Would you have come if I told you?" The question came accompanied by Alastor unbottoning his stripped vest with his own fingers.

"Not in an hour" admitted Lucifer first and then sighed. "I don't know. Maybe."

"I needed a yes, not a maybe, darling. You will not make me feel bad for trying to look out for our daughter" Alastor turned Lucifer around to take out his vest, sending it through his shadows to a chair, folded and ready for tomorrow. When he turned him around again on the bed, Lucifer's face was blushing and looking kinda pouty. "If you ever want to contribute, anytime."

"You look kinda hot like this."

"Like what?" Alastor was sincerely confused by the comment. He wasn't doing anything especial.

"Caring" Lucifer finally moved his arms, first stretching them and then lifting them up to hold Alastor's face on his hands, his thumbs gently brushing against his cheekbones. "Protective. Possesive. You were really hot in general today" He smiled, turning his head. "That is the kind of face I wanted to see."

"I am not making any face" Alastor wondered how much was actually showing when Lucifer giggled, bringing him down to kiss him.

[thesofthuman]

I’ve had on and off anxiety everyday for the past week after a big anxiety attack triggered it. I’m taking steps to understand anxiety and to do things good for my body and mind. However, sometimes it feels overwhelming and like I will never feel like my normal self again. I have my good moments but the anxious moments I have it’s like I forget who I once was before all of this anxiety. Any advice for dealing with an anxious or depression period? I normally find so much joy and beauty in life, but lately it’s been hard. But I am not giving up hope :)

I'm sorry you're experiencing that right now, I understand how heavy it can feel. All selves we have been before are still in us and we can be at peace again. You knew it once, you will know it again. I find myself in a similar state these past few weeks too. You have to hold some compassion for yourself and not judge yourself for feeling stuck. Know that it is temporary, as all feelings come and pass and come again. I have been listening to calming music/mantras throughout the day, trying to eliminate unnecessary stressors (like watching shows, scrolling, overstimulating environments, overbooking), I communicate with those that make me feel loved and heard, I take extra care of my body and myself, I try not to shut myself away and push through the anxiety to hang at my best friend's house or do something I know I'd find fun. I read more, I study something interesting, I journal like 5 pages a day, meditate, qigong, ground in my body, get fresh air. Not one thing is a cure all, but each thing is a gentle push to being in your body more, to being grounded, to caring for yourself, to see the light and sweetness that is around us and in the world. I try not to fall into the pit of despair that feels only a few steps away. I do not give up hope. I search for hope. And in that searching I do find it. You will too. <3

[nerdgirlnarrates]

So a fun thing that came up in therapy is how I have a lot of trouble believing that I can be in a long-term loving romantic relationship and how that relates to being told over and over that going into medicine would make me difficult to marry. There were other things about me that garnered this criticism (I was a weird kid growing up and had the typical weird kid experiences that make you believe you're unlovable), but it mostly revolved around wanting to go into medicine, and it mostly came from my parents. There was a lot of fretting over how men would struggle with a woman having such a demanding career and how they would be emasculated by my salary, etc. There was also fretting over how I should avoid ambitious men because it would make it even more difficult to balance careers, and this concern usually came with the message that the man's career is more important. Sometimes this was implicit, but sometimes it was explicit: at the beginning of med school, my mom told me I shouldn't date a classmate because "[their] career will come first." I once had a hypothetical discussion with my dad about what I would do if I had a disabled child who needed a parent at home, and his immediate response was "you can't ask a man to quit his job." Never mind the work you put in to your career, how much you like it, how your respective jobs impact household finances--you can't ask a man to quit his job. That's that. I was also asked repeatedly, and not just by my parents, if I would give up my job if my husband asked (no additional context was given, of course). When I said I wouldn't, I was accused of being unwilling to make any sacrifices in a relationship.

In retrospect, I think my parents thought they were preparing me for realistic relationship struggles. Obviously having a demanding job can create tension, and it created tension in their marriage when they both had demanding careers and small children. Ultimately my mom quit her job, for that and other reasons. But I think that decision was also due, in some part, to patriarchal assumptions about who should be at home and whose career matters. That assumption was passed along in the concerns they harbored about my career, and instead of making me feel prepared to deal with relationship stressors, I started believing I couldn't have a career and a marriage. I picked a career.

Medicine is deeply, deeply important to me, and it feels like part of who I am, and I can't imagine giving it up to be more appealing as a wife. I can't stop being someone who loves medicine and work. I don't want to be married for the sake of it or loved halfway; I want to be loved as what I am or I want to be alone. For years, it felt like I couldn't both want things and be married. To be married, I had to be ready to give up everything at the drop of a hat, throw out all my dreams and ambitions if someone asked. The context doesn't matter--I'm the woman, so I'm the one who quits. I'm the one who gives things up.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't stop wanting things: I want to be a physician and teach and work in sexual violence prevention for the rest of my life. I want to paint and write novels. And I don't want to give any of it up unless I absolutely have to. Worse, I want someone to actually like all those things about me rather than simply tolerate them. And I want to be seen as kind and smart and funny and interesting and attractive, and it's just too much. I want too much. I just don't think it's possible to want this much from life and from a partner. I've had some people tell me that what I want is fine and realistic, and I don't really believe them.