#Manic Carbon

[hysterix-gremlin]

⋆𐙚₊

[that-bipolar-mood]

I've said this ages ago, behold, the lithium post.

"Isn't that like a battery? Is it drinkable?"

Why don't we leave the science of it behind a bit, mostly because the majority is speculation.

1. Lithium is an element, one of the original elements if you'd like. It is found in nature and even in a class of stars (how poetic is that?)

Lithium salts have been used as long ago as ancient greece, in the form of baths, where they put manic patients. It's important to understand that the greeks sometimes had a funny (try googling Plato on mania) and sometimes quite accurate view of mental illness. Also, they were pretty tolerant and humane to those affected.

Around the 1950s, it was popular again and used in the treatment of melancholia and mania. It is still considered the best in terms of effectiveness.

2. The downside, although, is that lithium is most effective in patients with mania and especially classic type. For those with bipolar 2 or rapid cycling or even mixed episodes, another stabilazor or antidepressant is generally used.

The fact that lithium is monitored by blood plasma is a good thing and a bad thing. Doctors can easily tell its effectiveness, as your body and dose are adjusted to maintain the perfect level for you. Of course, the problem is lithium intoxication, which means that the concentration of lithium in your blood surpasses the optimal levels. Basically, it becomes toxic.

This can happen when you take too much, but not necessarily. When you build up lithium levels in your blood, even as little as exercise or slight dehydration cause the levels to rise. That's why the most important thing you can do is to stay hydrated and learn about the early signs of toxicity.

3. Side effects most people experience are excessive or pronounced thirst, which goes with frequent urination. This happens because your body is trying to "wash out" the foreign substance in your blood. Followed by tremors that have a range from mild to severe. It has to be noted that in some cases, additional medicine is prescribed if the person's job requires steady hands (for example, pianists).

(Some gain weight, there's evidence of acne connected with lithium, thyroid dysfunction or malfunction that usually happens after a long periods of time, coordination problems, night vision or vision in general problems, lower libido, and plenty plenty more...)

The modern form of lithium has reduced the majority of side effects. Lithium used to be notoriously bad for tolerating in terms of side effects. This is why people nowadays are still prejudiced. Ironically, it had the least side effects for me, none from the former paragraph.

4. The dose you are on matters and should be expected to change. For instance, when you have symptoms of mania, the doctor will up the dose, and once you are back to stability, they might lower it again to avoid depression.

Probably due to toxicity, lithium has a scary reputation. What helped me in the early days was trusting the history, because it was effective for not decades, but centuries. And the memoire An Unqiet Mind, where dr. Jamison tells her journey of how lithium saved her life.

It can also be a nuisance to have your blood levels checked, especially in the beginning, as it has to be more frequent.

Overall, I'd love if you could add your experiences with lithium, your own, or someone you know, to maybe help the narrative and those looking for answers.

[trashmouth-richie]

this comes from @serasvictoria with this ask the prompt words were: pillow, caught, crush

18+ no minors, angst leading to smut, vulgar, eddie talks about his dick and steve’s 😌

2.1k // eddie x fem reader

your ex hears you’ve moved on; is he ready to let you go?

send me a prompt!

“Don’t be a dumbass.” 

Ringed hands were folded together, glistening from the makeshift dramatic lighting in Gareth’s basement. 

In the summer, Hellfire moved locations from one member's place to another, rotating every Friday to a different place. A new aroma to tickle one’s nostrils upon entering whichever home was the designated spot for the evening, to host Hawkins very own hell bound teens. 

Some homes were kept nicer than others, while Eddie’s trailer smelled like stale cigarettes and bong water, the Sinclair’s living room was pristine with updated furniture, smelling of warm vanilla and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. 

Gareth takes another gulp of Mountain Dew, wiping the lime colored beverage from his lips. Belching on the spot. 

“Why would I lie about that?” 

Eddie shifts in the folding chair leaning forward— the chain from his waist clinking on the metal, “whatever man, don’t fuck with me.” 

Gareth grins, hands up in surrender, “listen dude, I’m just telling you what we saw,  no need to shoot the messenger.”

What Gareth and Jeff had seen weighed heavy on their minds. They had even contemplated on keeping it secret. The two couldn’t decide if Eddie should know or if it would hurt him— in the end Gareth opened his big mouth and blurted it out, in the most repugnant way imaginable. 

The painted tin container used to hold dice was crushed under the weight of Eddie’s fist as he hammered it onto the table. 

Jeff shook his head, sucking in a breath between his braced teeth, looking away from the soon to be manic Munson. 

Eddie’s temper ran hot when it came to one thing—and one thing only, you. 

Raking his fingers through his scalp, he kicks the back of his chair upon standing, ragged breaths in and out, eyes to the ceiling. You still had a hold on him, it had been months—and the only one who seemed to not be able to move on was him. 

He chuckled, pinching the inner corner of his eyes and shaking his head, “one of you take over as DM, I gotta go.” 

Bounding up the stairs before he could hear any bitching from his two longest standing friends, the carpeted steps squished under his quickened boot steps. Stealing a cookie from an iridescent colored decorative plate on the kitchen counter, Eddie stomped out the front door and to the paved driveway, starting his van with a flick of his wrist, pedal to the floor as he reversed onto the street, running over flower beds in his wake.

—

The daffodil warmth of the sun was high in the sky, a small stitch of wind blew the blades of grass gently, feathering the soft pages of your book every so often. 

It was a perfect summer day as you laid out on your driveway, ass parked in a tiny kiddie pool from your youth, blue in color, the flimsy plastic circle was filled with cool water straight from the hose. 

A few shots of spiced whiskey danced on your tongue and tangoed with the carbonated bubbles of the mixed in Coke, fizzing with each slurp from your straw, you don’t have a care in the world. 

Admiring your freshly painted nails in the pastel bubble gum shade he had picked out— it was a stark contrast to the ruby reds you had been accustomed to— but those days were long gone, and things were finally starting to look up for you. 

It had been four months since Eddie broke things off, claiming he needed ‘space to find himself’ and although you spent a majority of that time wallowing in ice cream containers and mopping up tears when you saw a brown set of curls, or heard the jingle of a chain wallet— you moved on. 

He wasn’t from Hawkins. Didn’t know of Eddie at all, and you preferred to keep it that way. You were never ashamed of the boy you loved for so many years, the only embarrassment you felt was the night he ended things like someone would end a call after placing an order for pizza. 

Like it meant nothing to him, like you meant nothing to him. But that was then, and you were happier now.

So when you looked up to see Gareth’s wide eyes staring in shock was not at all how you imagined your date would go. You had been caught red handed by his best friends, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. 

Toes twirling in the water you bobbed your head along to the music playing on the portable radio, sunglasses perched on your nose— not a single care in the world. 

Until the music turned to something more familiar.. the screech of guitars and aggressive tempos, you could practically feel the warmth leave your skin as the dark cloud of Eddie’s van cast its shadow on your skin, parked in your driveway like he belonged here. 

By the way he tore around the corner and through the stop sign— you knew he was pissed. The clunk of his rings scraped against the paint as he reached through the window to open the door—still broken. 

“I don’t smoke anymore Munson, but if you’re offering freeb—”

“Who is he?” he interjected, in no mood for your joking tone. 

Sucking your drink until the ice clinks together at the bottom—whiskey making you ballsier than you ever had been—you finally answer, “Who is who?” 

He crosses his arms, trying to stay calm, although all he wanted to do was scream, “the guy, cmon princess, don't play dumb with me.” 

Staring at him you can’t believe the audacity of the boy standing in front of you, coming here, demanding to know what’s going on in your life when he’s the one who practically skipped on his way out of it. 

instead of stomping around and causing you a scene, you simply ignore him, “you’re in the way.” 

“Huh?” 

Pointing with a lazy finger to the sky you watch as his eyes follow, “don’t tell me you came here to bitch me out, you’re wasting your time.”

He leans in over your body so close that you can see the chocolate color of his eyes, eyes that you'd lose count of the times you’d stare into them. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me who he is.” 

“Okay.” You say nonchalantly, unbothered. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah go ahead, stay. ‘s long as you want,” you push yourself up from the pool, standing in a string bikini that matched your nails, “I’ll be the bigger person here, and I’ll leave.” 

Water dripped down your thighs as you walked to the front porch and pushed the door open, ready to slam it shut and twist the lock upon entry—but a dark boot prevents your dismissal.

Rolling your eyes you try to kick his knee to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge, and you huff in annoyance. 

“Pretty sure this is harassment.” 

You ignore the way he walks in your house like he knew his way around, even though he did, your house was a second home to him for years.

Shutting the door with dramatic flair, Eddie leans into your space, inches from your nose, “just answer my question sweetheart— and I’ll be on my happy little way.” 

“You’re deranged if you think I’m telling you anything.”

He cocks his head and laughs like a jerk, mocking you.

“Thata more than likely, but I know better than anyone,” his eyes undress you, fingernails skating across your thighs, “how much you like it.”

You turn and shout over your shoulder, “go home Eddie— I’m not in the mood for this!” 

He barrels around you, demanding your attention. 

“Aww you’re not in the mood?” his voice dipped to a gravelly bite of anger as he put his hand over his heart, “my sincerest apologies to your feelings baby…but I somehow don’t give a fuck about your little feelings when I find out from Gareth that you were sucking some guy’s dick in the Starcourt parking lot.” 

Your face heats in embarrassment and Eddie’s eyes are glassy, coated with pain. You never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to look at you the way he is right now. 

“Ed—” 

He smirks.

“I think it’s cute…honestly, still doing the same shit you did with me…” he moves to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I’m flattered.”

“Get out,” you bite back, making to shove him to the door but you’re no match for him. 

“D’dya swallow for him like you did for me?” 

“Get..” 

“He bigger than me?” 

“…out!” your shoves are fruitless against his broad shoulders.

“Last I checked Harrington was the only one who had me beat… unless you’re fucking him too.”

The slap startled him, but he knew he deserved it. The torment in your eyes was fueled by his words and he fucking hated himself for making you feel that way. 

He was hurting too, body shaking with rage and swallowing tears the whole drive here. But, when your tears fell on the apples of your cheeks— all his pain turned to gloom. 

“I’m sorry— I— That was a dick thing to say.” 

“Do you think getting over you was easy for me?”

“I don’t know.” 

“It wasn’t.. and truthfully I don’t think I am yet, but what fucking choice did I have?!”

“Babe—.” 

“I loved you, Eddie… I still fucking love you. Why isn’t that—”

His large hands clutch your cheeks, warm lips press into yours with a magnetic force you had forgotten about. Eddie’s tongue tasted like the tobacco spice of a camel, and a subtle hint of mint, and you devoured it like you were starved. 

He whispers and groans how he was so stupid, a real dumb mother fucker, and that he never should have ended it. 

Accepting his apology—for now—you pull him towards the couch, heels rocking on the carpet until they hit firm on the plush sectional, still lip locked with the man you swore, that you hated to your friends but your pillow heard a different plea ever since he broke your heart.

His arms wrap around your waist, fingers daintily pulling the string from your bikini bottoms until the soft fabric hits the floor.  His Hellfire shirt joins them before you both collapse into one another on the cushions, Eddie’s hair draped into your face hiding you both away from consequences and the reality of bad decisions. 

He breaks away from your lips to lick up the slope of your neck, and your head angles back in ecstasy. His body temperature was like fire against your skin, curling your legs around his back you couldn’t get enough of him. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Eddie grooaned, grinding into your naked cunt, his tongue kitten licking around your neck, working his signature hickey into your skin, “my angel.”

You moan feather light in his ear, fingers twisted into his curls. His hand works down your front, sliding between your slick folds with skills you swore only he possessed. 

He played your body like a guitar, knew how to tune you up, the proper way to hold you. A true expert of his craft— your pretty little noises would harmonize from the simple touch of his fingers, your sweet cunt clinching onto him like vice. 

“Missed that sound,” he chuckled, his bangs pushed up from the angle on your neck as you came undone, “so pretty like this… drunk on how I’m making you feel.” 

Your eyes were pinched shut, chest heaving from the breath shattering orgasm you haven’t had since you got dumped by him. Nobody came close to the way Eddie could do it.

Kissing him square on the mouth, you twist your tongue with his, massaging them together as if a flame could spark from the pink wet muscles.

Intimacy with Eddie felt like home, like a warm blanket straight from the dryer when you were freezing. A cup of soup to soothe an itchy throat. 

He melted into you, collecting each gasp you choked out with a kiss from his lips, doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face when your breath was stolen from his pistoning hips. 

New— but entirely the same, your bodies fell back into each other like no time had passed and he made up for what was lost, twice. Each time your cries rang out like music to his ears— his favorite song. 

You slept now, adjusting to his arm wrapped around you, a kiss to your forehead, and a new plea in your pillowcase— for Eddie to stay, forever. 

[bbystark]

hi beautiful and wonderful writer, I requested the part 2 of Simon being a bad stalker and I need moreee

It is so gooodddd

♡ badstalker!simon extras ♡

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: just more of what simon would do to make your life easier while he was simultaneously being a lil freak stalker. mdni

a/n: thank you sm for requesting pt 2 and more anon ily!!! i bet you guys thought i up and left again, surprise, i am no longer depressed and am manic and full of inspo. enjoy xoxoxo

simon was constantly around, lurking in shadows. and when he couldn't be near you physically, he was watching you through the cameras, stalking socials, you name it

he didn't really want to admit it to himself, but he felt guilty when he was deployed or was otherwise taken away from you.

that's really where the (strange) acts of service started, he was trying to ease his guilt of not being there to protect you by doubling down with his affections when he could

it started with things you would never know about, trailing you home to make sure you got back safely, watching your house as often as he could to make sure no one broke in, one time cleaning up after your cat broke a glass while you were gone. "bad cat arn't ya" he had mumbled, "gonna giv your mum a heart attack one of these days when I ain't around."

then he was leaving you umbrellas when he had watched you forget one in the morning as you left for work. linking prepaid cards to some of your random bills, smiling to himself as he watched you discover you "magically" had a few extra dollars left over at the end of the month and bought yourself something special.

hated seeing you sad, thought you deserved nothing but pure happiness 24/7. called and complained to corporate about a fellow employee you were having issues with, making up some lie to get them in trouble all to prevent you from dealing with the stress of workplace drama

he can think of dozens upon dozens of times he silently showed his devotion to you. it always left him with a whole feeling, like he was finally doing something right.

he didn't realize it, but being silent and distant stopped being enough for him when he was sitting in his bunk one night, drowning out soap's god-awful snores with your voice drifting through his cheap earbuds.

you were on call with a friend, and simon couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips when you giggled at something dumb your friend had said.

"i'm serious! this has to be my year or something, i'm having the best luck ever and i have no idea why."

he went a little rigid at that, feeling the overwhelming need for you to know it was him making your life so good, not some mysterious force of the universe.

it got worse after that

he'd watch you sleep, adjusting you when your neck was in an uncomfortable position, (bad time to be a heavy sleeper), shooing your cat away from bothering you, re-cover you when you'd seek out the blankets you had kicked off 10 seconds prior.

started hanging out in your house a lot, desperate to be as close as you as possible. military training would kick in as he would silently organize forgotten corners of your house, cleaning spaces you wouldn't have bothered with because you never see them

even replaces the batteries in the smoke alarm when he realizes there were none, knowing you had probably taken them out to make it stop chirping and forgotten to replace them. hides a carbon dioxide alarm too, just in case

he was feeling particularly desperate one day and took a shower, lathering himself in your scented body wash while working his fist up and down his swollen cock, imagining you were with him. you were mortified when you return home to see drops of water still dripping from the walls of your shower.

he flies too close to the sun, getting sloppy. you're suddenly more on edge, casting more glances over your shoulder. he stops making as many visits to your house when you start seeing a therapist.

that doesn't stop him from reaching out in other ways though, leaving notes, calling you, sending texts and random gifts.

this time his advances scare you a little less, and intrigue you more than they should.

he almost wishes he had been more careful. almost. he can't deny the thrill that goes through him at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he isn't deluded, and this could actually work.

he'd just have to wait and see.

besides, he wasn't exactly confident in his ability to leave you alone whether you wanted him to or not. and that is something he could promise.

[findmeinforks]

Not Letting You Go Easy - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

IM BACKKKKKKK!!! Wow I just checked my last fic and it's been TWO years. Does anyone even remember me? 🥹 I'm back on my twilight bs, this one is my longest ever! Let me know what you think! - 3.2K Words ❤️

*Second Person POV*

The sun poured on your face as you soaked in all the warmth it allowed. You missed the sun, watching the palm trees sway peacefully as the ocean tide rolls in. The goosebumps that arise on your skin as a strong breeze passes, the warmth blanketing back over them.

You keep your eyes shut as your mouth curls up in a smirk, listening faintly to your mom try and convince your sister to stay in Jacksonville. She could offer up the moon and all the stars...Bella would still choose Edward, every time. It's true that you were weary of the vampire, after she flew like a bat out of hell half way across the world to Italy to save him. But could you blame her?

If it wasn't for your sister stumbling her way into the supernatural world, it's possible you could have never met Paul. A blush crept up your cheeks as you crack a full smile, thinking back to the day you met the hot head.

~

There was absolutely zero hesitation when you followed behind Bella in the truck to go to Jacob's. You had been worried for weeks about your sister, who had been spiraling ever since she was ghosted a second time by someone she trusted. Not only did you care about your her, but Jacob too. He had been around your family for years, and this behavior...especially towards Bella...was concerning. So when she frantically barged in your room asking you to go with, you were out of the house in minutes.

You had taken off in a sprint to try and keep up with your sisters manic running towards the group of shirtless men in Jacob's backyard. You heard rumors of the so called "cult" that had formed in the recent weeks. Jacob's haircut and tattoo had confirmed that part. But seeing the others approach through his window, you knew this was going to be a bad idea. You barely had time to catch your breath before her hand came in contact with one of their faces. You let a gasp slip as you made it in time to yank her back by the elbow.

What had gotten into her!?

Not able to process why she would resort to slapping him in the first place, the man, who looked like a carbon copy of the other ones standing around, began to shake violently. The others were urging you both to get back while attempting to calm him down. Never in your life had you witnessed such immense anger. In seconds his shakes became tremors. It was as if he ripped apart, and in his place stood a massive grey wolf. Mirroring the emotions of the man before, the animal was growling, snarling at your sister with its teeth bared.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You felt as if you were dreaming, blinking rapidly to make sure this was real. Not standing around to question the animal who could very well kill you, Bella grabbed your hand and you both booked it towards the house. The outburst must have woken Jacob, who was running towards the scene. Bellas blood curdling scream was telling him to go back, though he kept charging forward.

You both fell hands first onto the grass as Jacob launched over you both, shreds of clothes flying as yet another wolf emerged.

Now it was you who was shaking. The only thing that prevented you from having a panic attack was realizing that all the other men were calm, as if this happened all the time. You swallowed your fear as you accepted the hand of one of the younger men, who led you two back to the truck by the order of the oldest one.

As you walked into the cozy secluded home, your mind was running a million miles a minute. They were werewolves....as if after learning vampires existed wasnt a shock enough already.

The oldest one, fiancé, Emily, you had learned, helped ease some of the headache. Besides the scar she wore upon her face that made your stomach drop when you first saw her, she was the epitome of kindness. You could see when she was greeted by Sam that their love was far more deep rooted than the mark she wore. Only knowing her for an hour, you felt happy for the girl.

You vaguely registered Jacob returning, finally looking away from the couple when you heard an unfamiliar voice apologize to Bella. As he then turned your way, you both locked eyes. An electric current jolted through your body, through your veins as you held his stare. You felt a fuzzy warm feeling race its way all the way down to your toes. The feeling lasted what felt like forever, until Jacob's "no fucking way...." pulled you back to earth. It's as if you had been some other place. A place of immense happiness and love. You knew you looked as bright as a tomato when you realized all eyes were on the two of you, mortified they caught you staring.

You did a quick scan of the room, noticing they were paying more attention to the man rather than you, who, was still staring.

When you craned your neck to look at Bella behind you, you found relief in that she looked just as confused.

The man was slapped on the back by Embry, which snapped him out of his trance. He quietly introduced himself as Paul. You blushed hard when you quickly said your name back. As if to break the tension in the room, Jacob asked you both to go for a walk.

Before you left, you had sworn you heard Paul growl.

"Not now. She's been through too much today already." Sam lowly said to him. You furrowed your brows as you trailed behind your sister out of the house.

After a walk on the beach and many questions answered, you were able to take a deep breath. The world was getting scary for you, but Jacob seemed to ease your fears, promising he would always protect you both.

Before he dropped you both off at your house, he had mentioned going to a pack bonfire the following night. You couldn't help but get excited at the prospect of seeing Paul again. You both hadn't even spoke other than introductions, but there was some type of spark in your core when you both met.

Attempting to shove it away, you reminded yourself it was nothing but a crush.

~

You sat on a log by the fire, rubbing your hands together in front of it. Everyone was up gathering their food, but you were focused on the warmth as it was more than chilly outside. Nerves bubbled in you as Paul approached, asking to sit next to you. Your cheeks heated as he sat, only inches away.

"I just wanted to apologize about yesterday," he spoke, his voice gruff as he looked into the fire. "You could have gotten hurt and I let my anger get the best of me. I promise I'm not like that all the time, and I don't want you to be afraid of me."

Your heart melted at how softly he spoke. "It's really alright. My sister acts out of impulse, if you couldn't tell." This got him to laugh lightly. You laughed too, until a strong breeze made you break out into a shiver.

Paul immediately noticed, grabbing a blanket from the pile beside him. "Here," he said as he wrapped one around you. His warmth radiated off you as he had gotten closer to do so. Not even realizing what you were saying you spoke, "I bet your girlfriend never gets cold with you around." To your embarrassment but surprise he cracked a big smile. "I bet she would, if I had one." It was your turn to smile. "What about you?" You shook your head no as Paul let out a small breath that almost sounded like relief.

Before either of you could say something more, everyone gathered around the fire. The legends of the tribe had you captivated. So much history that you were never aware of, right under your nose. You could feel Paul glance at you every so often, gauging your reaction to everything that was said.

When the fire died down and Jacob's dad came to a stopping point, everyone quietly mingled until deciding to call it a night. You had talked to Paul the entire time, getting to know the basics. You had a lot more in common than you thought. The more you learned about him, the more you liked him. A lot. He followed you to Bella's truck, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I had a really good time tonight" you spoke softly, now inches away from his face. You were so close you could feel his breath.

"I did too. I hope this won't be the last time I see you?" he questioned.

You glanced past him to see Bella and Jacob making their way up the hill.

"With everything going on, everything that's happening...I have a feeling we won't be going away anytime soon."

Paul smiled.

This is the part where he'll kiss me, you think. Your heart beats fast in anticipation.

But Paul just stands there. Staring. He stood there so long that you cleared your throat awkwardly.

"I'll see you around Paul." You tried to hide the disappointment on your face as you climbed into the truck and shut the door. He had let you, still standing there for a moment before turning around to walk back to the house.

Tears welled up in your eyes. How foolish were you, to think that a guy like Paul Lahote would just sweep you off your feet? Sure, a kiss might be moving fast for the first night, but he didn't even give you his number. You analyzed everything you had said to each other. Nothing was even romantic, so why on earth would you think he liked you back? Pathetic.

Bella said goodbye to Jacob and got in the truck. One thing you loved most about your sister was that she knew you better than anyone else. And if there was one thing you hated, it was when people asked if you were upset. One look in your direction and she didn't say a word, starting the truck and driving off. She knew when you were ready to talk, you would.

*Paul's POV*

I turned around, watching the truck drive away, getting smaller and smaller in the distance. I was frozen in place.

What is wrong with me?

"Everything go okay?" Sam approached, clearly sensing my distress.

"I'm never like this with women, Sam. I should have kissed her, but I didn't. I stood there, right in front of her with my mouth open like a fucking fish. I-I've never felt this way-" I rambled on.

"Dude it's alright" Sam interrupted, "Did you tell her that she's your imprint?"

I sighed. "I didn't even get that far. I don't, I don't want her to feel forced to like me like that right away. I want to treat it like a normal relationship....but I think I went ahead and screwed it up anyways." I huffed.

Sam placed his hand on my shoulder. "Deep breathes. You didn't screw anything up, you just met her. You can tell her about the imprinting when you're comfortable....as far as the kiss, well, it's never too late." Sam held up keys to his vehicle, putting them in my hand. "Only if you need them." He slapped me on the shoulder, winking, as he walked back to where Emily was.

I watched him sneak up behind her, she giggled as he peppered kisses on the back of her neck. I knew what he was doing. And it was working, as I made my way towards his car.

*Back to Second Person POV*

You sniffled, taking a deep breath. You were done crying over this man. This man you had literally just met. So what if he didn't like you? There is a million other people out there. Why did you care so much?

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Charlie was gone over night on a hunting trip and Bella was fast asleep.

Another knock. It was almost damn near midnight. As you slowly approached the door, bat in hand, you looked through the peep hole.

It was Paul.

You flung open the door, ready to ask him what the hell him problem was, when he lunged forward. Grabbing you by the face, he kissed you feverishly. Your heart pounded in your chest as you melted into the kiss, tongues dancing together in perfect harmony. One hand held you by the hair as the other grabbed you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer. When you both needed to breathe you pulled away, Paul's hand held tightly so you couldn't go too far. He leaned his forehead against yours, panting.

"I am so sorry I didn't do this when you left. You, you make me nervous. It's a feeling I've never really had before. When you left I- I didn't want to let you go that easy. I'm sorry." He said.

You leaned in to kiss him once, slowly, softly. "I've been waiting for you to do that," you smiled. "There's a lot more where that came from...if you'll have me." he said, his hand sliding down to interlock with yours, bringing back up to place a gentle kiss on the top.

"I couldn't imagine anything better." you grinned.

*Paul's POV*

Y/N guided me to the couch, asking to stay awhile. We held each other until the sun came up, just talking. It was as if everything right there had changed for me. She would be my number one priority, to have and protect. I vowed to myself that I would do anything she asked, that I will love her no matter the cost. Whatever makes her happy.

I had to leave before Charlie got home, but not without a heated make out session at the door. It took everything in me to pull away from her, both of us lingering. Despite her not letting go either, I could see the bags under her eyes forming.

"Get some sleep baby, text me when you wake up okay?" She nodded, and after a good 20 minutes of more kissing, I left.

I understood why Sam was always mopey without Emily around. As I drove away I could feel my heart ache like something was missing. This was a whole new feeling, and for the first time I thanked whatever spirits gave me her.

My imprint.

I bit my lip as I remembered I still had to tell her. I'm worried about how she'll take it, but there was something heavier on my mind.

Victoria.

Part Two Anyone? :)

[k-n0-x]

༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid- Chapter 5·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N- Hello everyone! Sorry this chapter took sooooo long to get out. I compensated in making it a bit longer than the usual chapters. I hope y’all enjoy :3

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“Well, did you enjoy that Emily?” You ask Emily as you both pass through the portal, and onto your porch.

“Yes! I finally get what you mean when you say Charlie and I are alike,”

“Sweetie, you are carbon copies of each other, it’s not that hard to come to that conclusion ,”   You smile, and jump when you remember something. 

“By the way, Sinners can be redeemed! I did some digging around a couple of days ago, but I forgot to tell you,” 

For a moment, Emily becomes silent, letting the news sink in. 

Shs squeals. 

“Oh this is amazing! That means that-” 

“That what, Emily?”

The voice of the Elder Seraphim makes you jump out of your skin. 

“Hi, Sera, uhm just, er,” You lose face in front of Sera, but she is more looking at Emily than you. 

“Where exactly have the two of you been? Emily I was looking all around for you today,”

“Oh she was just hanging out with me at my house today-”

“I didn't see you around at all today,” Adam pops up behind you.

Ah yes, him. 

“Were you not out all day today?” You counter. 

“Enough! I already knew that Emily was in Hell with you,”

Your mouth agape, you make an attempt to form a plausible excuse. 

“I uh, just wanted to help out with the aftermath of the extermination and I just invited Emily along, please don't punish her, I really pushed her into it,”  You grimace. Surely there’s going to be a berating headed your way.

Emily gives you a confused look, and you return it with a warning one. 

“Whatever for? It's not like it works anyway,” Sera, despite spewing her bullshit, has her head up high. 

The latter remark makes you stick out your chin, with a defensive attitude. 

“Uh, yes it does, actually,” You smile innocently.

Sera’s face pales. 

“What, what do you mean? Obviously, sinners do not have the capacity to be redeemed,”

“Yeah, the big shot’s right. Those little, dare I say, cunts have already fucked up their one chance, why give them another?”

Your ‘husband’ sides with the Seraphim, but Emily stays beside you. 

“Well why not discuss this in court then?” Your eyes, almost manic glares into the ones of the first man. 

“Wha- What the fuck man? You can't do that-Right Sera, she just can't-”

“No, she can… When do you want to hold the meeting?” She turns to you. 

“Perhaps the day after the next? So that we'll have time to prepare,”

“.... Very well. Emily, let's go,”

Em stays back a bit and mutters, “Whatever happens, I’m on your side. I’ll try to help in anyway I can,”

“You don’t have to,” you mumble back.

“Emily! Let’s go,” Sera hisses. The two Seraphims leave the patio of your home.

“Why the fuck does this matter to you so much bitch?” Adam points an accusing finger at you, which you slap away.

“Oh, I don't know, maybe I want to uphold true Heavenly values? You of all people should know that,” You hiss back. 

“Uh, no. Sinners can't be redeemed, now stop preaching all this dumb bullshit, and get ready, because you're going down, bitch,” 

You bite your tongue, because God forbid you send him into a frenzy. You don’t have the time or energy for his tantrum right now.

“Well, I'm going to bed bitch, God, I am so handsome, and cool and amazing,” Adam sashays to the bedroom, irritating you so. 

You pave a path to the living room.

You look at the couch.

You are not planning on sleeping on the same bed as Adam tonight. 

Or the next, for that matter.

You flop on the couch like a tired dog, and doze off. 

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You’re in a desolate landscape. It's familiar. 

Oh yeah, you've been here before. 

Adjacent to you is the pedestal with the glowing ball. 

“Yeah, I’m not doing that again,” You step away from the monument and bump into something.

Or rather, someone.

“Sera? What are you- hey!” The Seraphim suddenly pushes you without warning, cascading you down into a dark pit.

Dark pit… This has happened before.

What the fuck is going on?

Despite your confusion you flap your wings in the darkness, but as soon as you get to the top of the hole again, some force drags you down. 

You look towards the surface, and see exterminators grinning (quite ironically) devilishly at the sight of your downfall

You spiral into the abyss, and the familiar heat appears. 

You hit the ground with a thud, and jump out of your couch, sun rays peeking through the curtains.

What was that dream? That's the second time today that you had a dream such as this. 

What's that glowing ball about?

Why, in the second dream, Sera pushed you into that hole?

Why couldn't you fly? 

Why, did you fall? 

Also, what is up with the ground at the bottom of the pothole?

It was so different from the  empty landscape at the surface, with its red hot coals.

You rub your eyes with your trembling hands. It felt so real, as if your hands are suffering the aftermath of being burnt on the scorching stones.

There's no point crying about it now. 

Time to become your own attorney.

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“So, let me get this straight. There's a court meeting tomorrow and you need Charlie  to be there. On short notice?!” Vaggie groans and rubs her temples. 

“This is the perfect recipe for disaster,” 

“Yah, honestly you fumbled this one toots,” Angel adds, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

“Vaggie, this isn't so bad. At least now we have solid evidence. Who knows? We actually have a fighting chance,” Charlie gives her girlfriend a comforting hug from behind. 

“I know it's short notice, and I'm sorry I'm asking for a lot, but it could help you guys immensely,” You ramble on. 

“Maybe we can sit down and look all of this over. I’ve brought some documents with me, and after possibly I could snatch Sir Pentious to go to the court meeting as well,” You start naming things like a list so fast, the words that leave your mouth are almost unintelligible. 

“Hey, maybe you should sit down. Seems like you're getting the jitters. Oh Charlie! Maybe you should brew a pot of tea, hmm?” Lucifer puts a hand on your shoulder and guides you to the couch. 

“Sorry for getting worked up about all of this, and all, I just have a lot on my plate,” you rub the head of Kiki, calming down to the vibrations of the cat's purrs.

“Yeah I could tell,” The demon holds your shaky hand gently, as if it was made of glass. 

“See, you're shaking. I'm assuming the hearing isn't the only reason you're so anxious,” 

You sigh. 

“Really, I'm fine. Don't worry about it,” You smile, and squeeze his hand.

The King slightly reddens at the touch.

Charlie enters the room with piping hot cups of tea with Vaggie, who was holding a tin of biscuits. Charlie squints at the sight of you and her dad holding hands. Instinctively, you pull away casually.

“Okay, so,” You begin to take out some papers from your bag and place them on the table. 

“Recently, St. Peter gave me receipts of who has entered Heaven in the recent weeks. Even though we know that Sir Pentious is in Heaven, we should still try to match up the dates of when he entered, and the day of extermination,” 

“It'll be good hard cold evidence, especially if we get a grab of Pentious himself…” you bite your lip. 

“We’d probably have to look around for more information… Would either of you know anything?” You turn to the three. 

Lucifer scratches his head for a moment. 

“Hmm, nothing that I could think of-” 

“I believe I could make an attempt to ask Rosie and the other Overlords, they like to be keeping an eye on everything that goes on in Hell,” The familiar nails-on-a-chalkboard voice makes you jump out of your seat, almost spilling the cups of tea on the table. 

Geez, can Alastor abstain himself from giving you a jumpscare just to make his entrance?

“Yeah, that'd be amazing! We really need all hands on deck for this,” Charlie answers for you.

“Thanks Alastor. You're so kind,” You add, just out of habit. 

“It’s no problem my dear. Anything to help out a friend,” 

Friend? Alastor isn't an enemy to you, but you barely have shared any proper conversation to consider him your friend. 

That title he used for you seemed, off, like he doesn't regard you as a friend. 

But why-? 

Oh. 

“Yeah, thanks for your kind offer Alastor, but I'm quite confident that us three have it covered. So can you please remove yourself from here? We need to concentrate,” Lucifer pipes up from beside you, a thin layer of rage decorating his tone. 

“Uhm, some extra help doesn't hurt anyone Dad, right Y/N?” 

It feels like everyone in the room is looking at you for your input. 

Thankfully, your saving grace, Niffty turns the attention to her.

“Why are all the bad boys becoming good boys?! Ugh! So lame,” She groans as she uses a brush to sweep stray crumbs from the floor.

Using this window of opportunity, you change the subject. 

“Okay, now regarding Sir Pentious, I should probably call him now…” 

“I still have the card you gave me!” Charlie takes out the card from her breast pocket, crusted with dry slime and lint.

“You keep that thing on you?” Vaggie cringes.

“Yes, and?” Charlie dials the number on the card. 

Briing rring

You hold your breath as each silent second drags on. 

“Hello? Who isss thiss?” A voice rings from the other end. 

“Sir Pentious, is that you?!” The Princess replies. 

“Charlie? Iss that you?” The voice counters. 

“Oh hi!! So as much as I want to catch up with you, I have a teeny tiny favour to ask of you…”

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“Ahh, I don't know Charlie. Thiss iss a very important matter, I don't know if I could handle it,”

“Pentious, by helping us, we could be achieving big! We need to either go big or go home! I know it's a lot of you, but, pretty please?”

A crackled sigh. 

“Oh alright…”

“Aaaa thank you so much Pentious! I'd give you a hug, but, you know… Ah bye bye!”

Charlie drops the call. 

“Seems like everything's in order now. I'll see you guys tomorrow?” You stand up from the couch. 

“Yes, and Y/N?”

You turn to the Princess. 

“Yes Charlie?”

She hesitates. 

“....Thank you again, for all of this,”

“Charlie, again, it's really no problem, okay? It's literally the least I can do,” You give Charlie a hug. 

It's all you can do. 

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“We are gathered here today to re-determine if sinners are able to redeem themselves via Charlie Morningstar’s Hazbin Hotel,” The Seraphim’s voice bellows from above. 

Cherubs and winners are below you, Charlie is by your side, and Emily is beside Sera, on edge.

“The plaintiff is Y/N, and the defendant is Adam, the first man. Y/N, I bring the floor to you,”

You take a deep breath and take out your notes. 

“Well, your Honour, I have receipts which show that a sinner has entered Heaven in recent weeks,” You thrust out the piece of paper, which Sera draws towards her. 

“He goes by the name ‘Sir Pentious’,” Your voice puts on a nonchalant tone, but it feels like your heart is about to stop. 

Sera reads over the piece of paper, her face as though she swallowed a particularly sour lemon. 

“Uhhhh, I call bullshit. I mean come onnnnnn,” Adam groans. 

“I mean, do you know how easy it is for her to just print that out. Don't tell me you're actually believing this?” He smirks, and gets a snicker from Lute beside him.

“Uhm actually,”Sir Peter pipes up from the stands. 

“I actually gave her that paper a while ago, if that can vouch for anything-”

“Shut up Pete,” Adam spits. 

“Order!” Sera’s feathers ruffle, and she tucks them back down.

“Unless the defendant shows indubitable evidence, I’m afraid the verdict still stands,”

“Sera no!” Emily cries.

“Emily, this is an official court meeting, one of which you aren’t apart of. If you can’t keep quiet, you would have to leave the courtroom,”

You bite your nail. You really didn’t want to pull out your winning card this early…

“May I call a witness?”

“You may,”

“Well I call Sir Pentious as my witness,” You nod towards where the cacophony of angels were.

“Well your Honour…” He hisses, his tail wagging as though alert. 

“I used to be a sinner, ass you may already know. During the lasst extermination, I wass killed in the battle… Then before I knew it, I wass up here in Heaven. That's all,” Pentious looks up at you, and you give a thumbs up along with a smile. 

“Any quesstions?” 

“No, you may sit down,” Sera starts, but a cherub pipes up from the audience. 

“What does he mean by “as you already know”? I for one didn't know about that,” 

Multiple angels, winners and Heavenborn alike, all murmur in agreement. Emily then bursts out,

“I'll tell you this. It's because Sera and I knew when Sir Pentious entered Heaven. Rather than going through the pearly gates, he appeared amongst the two of us.” 

And all Hell, (or Heaven) breaks loose.

“Silence! This meeting is adjourned,” Sera’s ringing voice brings the noise of the  populated stadium to a halt.

“Adjourned? What, why?” Charlie inadvertently voices your thoughts.

“My reasoning will not be objected,” Sera dodges the question.

“This meeting will be continued within twenty minutes,”

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“Charlie, what do we do? Sera clearly doesn’t want to budge, and God knows what lies Adam is feeding her,” you  pace up and down, words leaving your mouth as quick as lightning.

“Uhh don’t panic,” Charlie puts her hands up defensively. 

“She hasn’t made a decision yet, we could- erh” She stumbles over her words,  and fumbles a small yellow item out of her pocket and puts it in your hand.

“My dad said to give it to you if you got worked up- uhm,” Charlie steps backward a bit to give you some space. 

You look at the object in your hand, which took the shape of a duck that was decorated with the signature white hat, and an apple cane in its flank.

You squeeze it and it produces a familiar tune. Your eyes widen as you remember that it was the melody  you complimented just the other day. 

At the time, it was just obligatory praise, but you were absolutely smitten by the fact that Lucifer has taken it seriously.

The dedication, into making something like this, for you is…

Charming.

Really Charming. 

“Uhhh, Are you alright?” The Princess taps her foot anxiously, waiting for your answer.

“Oh yeah!” You look up, cheeks warming.

“I really love it. Tell him as such,” your stupid face breaks into a smile despite everything.

“I will. He’d be pretty happy hearing that, especially from you,” she gives you a playful nudge.

“You know… He likes you. Like- a lot,” 

Your eyes brighten, and Charlie squeals at the sight.

“Oh, I knew it was reciprocal!” She brings you into a massive bear hug.

“Charlie- I-,”

“Oh, sorry,” She lets go.

“I was squeezing too hard, wasn’t I?”

“No, no it’s not that. It’s that well- you know I’m married,” An gravelly sigh leaves your lips.

“I think we would be better as friends,” Your throat is scratchy. Why is this so hard to say? 

“Oh,” was her reaction, only enhancing your guilt even more. She looked so remorseful, you wanted to hug her so badly and say that you were lying.

And you were.

“Excuse me?” A cherub taps your shoulder.

“The court meeting is about to resume,”

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As you enter back on your podium, you see Adam whispering something into Sera’s ear. He looks at you and makes a rude gesture, which you reciprocate.

“Enough! The court is back in session. Now, I bring the defendant to speak,” 

“Ehhh yeah, anyway my point still stands. I don’t think we want some sinners cavorting around , making trouble,”

 His statement just irritates you. How could he just say something like that?

“How do you know that? Pentious has been here for a while, and I doubt he has been making any disturbance,” are you picking the low hanging fruit? Yes. Is it helping your case? Also yes.

“Uhhhh yeah, but what’s the guarantee that others won’t? Geez, you’re so gullible,” He snorts like the pig he is.

“The defendant has a point. I feel like I’ve come to a conclusion, and it still hasn’t changed from the last session. Lute, please see Princess Charlie Morningstar out. Everyone else is  dismissed,”

All the spectators leave. Sir Pentious looks back and gives you a consoling wave before taking his leave.

Lute flies over to your podium and a portal opens behind Charlie.

“What? No!” You and Emily shout in unison. The General roughly grabs the princess by the arm and drags her through the threshold.

 Horns protrude from Charlie’s head, trying to resist the Angel’s force. More exterminators appear, almost magically and with one final push, the Demon princess is hauled through the portal.

“Charlie, NO!” You outstretch your hand, but it’s too late. The gateway closed with a whoosh sound.

“Now, was that really necessary?” You stare daggers at Sera, Lute and Adam.

“It had to be done,” was her response.

“Also, Sera, you said you wanted to talk to Y/n about something,” The first man’s tone is sinister, and is putting you on edge. 

“Oh, yes. Thank you for the reminder. Well, Mrs. Y/N, I ban you from travelling to Hell without a permit,”

“What, why?!” Your heart is in your throat.

“Uhh, coz I don’t want you there. D'you know how bad it'll look on me if I can’t control my wife?!” 

Sera puts her fingers between her eyes.

“Ahem, what Adam is trying to say is that, you clearly aren’t thinking of the consequences all of this may have. Imagine the state of Heaven if we just let any riff-raff in,”

You let out a short breath in shock. That was it. Game over.

“Unbelievable,” 

“Y/N, WAIT!-” Emily tries to fly to your podium

She was met with a slammed door in her face.

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Word count- 3,111

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[t00thpasteface]

i had kind of a tricky time with ochem last semester, so imagine my manic glee when my genetics professor showed the molecular structure of a dna molecule and started talking about the deoxyribose sugar, nitrogenous bases, phosphate group, and bonds between the sugars and phosphates on the 3' and 5' carbons, and i realized I ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT SHE'S TALKING ABOUT!!1!

[purble-turble]

Very random thought but I feel like a McDonalds sprite/bajablast/ any caffeinated sugary beverage would just about kill RedBoy if he weren’t an immortal demon. Ala Victorian child is given modern chemical packed snacks joke. Someone would innocently give him a carbonated drink and he’s gripping his head convinced some just tried to kill/has poisoned him

Red Boy, while being a hugely powerful immortal demon with the ability to set all of reality on fire, is absolutely still just a child nonetheless.. so yeah, when he sees something that looks like it'd be tasty it goes in his mouth no questions asked..

I think if he drank something carbonated he'd definitely be startled for a moment, thinking maybe he drank something that is boiling by mistake (not that he can't drink boiling liquids, being who he is) but then he'd realize the taste of it and start guzzling that shit lol

Oh also the funniest thing for him to drink would be a Red Bull.. It's got his name and his family's name on it, so it's meant for him, right? Well... look, I mean he was already going to burn the entire town down, but now he's going to do it 50% faster and with 100% more manic glee than before

[sanjis-my-girlfriend]

Thoughts on OPLA Luffy

This is just me being an annoying gremlin about my hyperfixation !!! lmao sorry

So I rewatched the first episode of the live action some time ago and i just cant stop thinking about it...

I do think the LA is cool, and i enjoyed watching most of it, but LA Luffy always kind of annoyed me, so I decided to rewatch it since it had been awhile and I decided to pay more attention to it to really find out what annoyed me and...

They made Luffy a manic pixie dream boy. Like they took all the charm from canon Luffy (being unbothered, the strongest person in the east blue, being very strong in his belief people should do what they want when they want it) and just... manic pixie dream-ed him.

Like, when he meets Koby in the LA he keeps dropping this... motivational quotes, he LIES to Alvira to start a fight with her (tells her Koby said she was as dumb as a Seacow - Koby never said that, I remember vividly on my first watch hating him for it), and this fight MAKES Koby need to escape, doesn't matter the outcome, because now Alvira is super mad at him.

Then Luffy never inspires Koby de facto, no, he FORCES Koby into following his dream, later when he meets Zoro instead of respecting Zoro's wishes to stay on the cross in the patio, he just frees him "because it's a waste of time him being there", like what??

When he meets Nami and she says she hates pirates he literally says "That's because you don't know me yet", because he's sooo not like other pirates (which he really isnt, but gives me the vibe of "well but i AM a nice guy!")

And about him and Zoro being the strongest in the East Blue- Luffy is struggling to fight a few low ranking marines in Shellstown, and Zoro decides to stay and help him bc he feels bad to see them struggling.

Like OPLA Luffy just yaps and yaps and is obstinated to MAKE people see what life can be because he's so different and will blow their minds instead of just BEING inspiring. And it just... really annoys me.

So yeah the LA is kinda cool, but there were so many points that they just subtly mischaracterized the characters or undermined the importance of the details and nuances of their relationships, but since it's all in a subtle "realistic" way, you "kind of understand" the changes.

But not only I'm obssesed with narrative and character integrity (yes i have more points to make, no i dont want the LA to be a carbon copy of canon) but also i find the manic pixie dream boy/girl (there are differences between the tropes, but they're very similar) particularly annoying, specially applied to a character so complex and awesome like Luffy!!

Maybe Im just being a hater for nothing (would NOT be the first time), but we can all see it right? the MPDB trope?

[pinyatapix]

i never played Concord nor had interest in it but i felt an insatiable drive to redesign all of its characters before the game shut down ever since i saw how absolutely dripless they were

anyways here’s my scuffed ass sketches of the gang. i was originally going to finish these all before the game’s shutdown but i was so stuck on Teo that it took 6 extra days rip me. also i cant draw guns. these are all first drafts so expect them to change a bit if i feel like drawing em again

more info on these designs below (warning i yap a lot)

Itzi (i am not calling her “It-Z” cuz it reads rly weird and i can imagine someone bri’ish calling her “It-Zed” it’s so dumb): Wanted to make her more of a goofy lil gremlin creature, like some combo between a jerboa chameleon and raptor, to make her more appealing and interesting, imagine being shot to death by this silly little scamp. Everyone loves Ivy Deadlock for her gremlin charm so maybe they’d love Itzi too if she had that as well. Her chest has a hole in it containing the weird ball she throws to teleport and shit, because a Concord critique by TBSkyen said that a character’s powers should appear on their physical design or whatever, also to show that she got mutated in a freaky space storm

Bazz: nothing about her reads as “agile deadly knife-throwing assassin”, especially with that annoying puffy bright red coat, she looks completely stupid running around doing backflips with that thing on! So i made it a more sharper mysterious black coat she wears like a cape to give her that sense of shadowy agility like a phantom thief, which she keeps all her carbon steel knives all neatly stored in. Gave her a slight diamond motif on the coat and the glasses because it felt elegant and sharp. Thought her hairstyle kinda fucked hard so i kept it but made it a bit more pointier and added a little stylish side swoop.

Lennox: i actually love this guy’s voice acting and the slightly manic goofy personality it had but his design did NOT fit the voice, so fuck it im making him even more of a lizard man than they were trying to do. His self-healing ability is him shedding a bit of skin after it took damage, and his “splodey knife” is probably a back scale spine he yoinks out of his back that can explode because it’s a biological property of his species for some reason. I do not know what clothes to give him

Lark: Discarded all semblance of a humanoid silhouette to make them even more of a weird mushroomy alien. I don’t really have much to say but i can easily see them slithering around like an octopus on land but faster. Their gun would look way more like some organic fungal creation

Haymar: not much changes here but i wanted to make her more mystic and “wizardy”. The “fireballs” she uses as her main ammo are now a floating bead necklace rotating around her neck (kinda like that zen robot from overwatch) and her clothes now have more of a slight flame motif, along with more of a mystic vibe. Got rid of those ugly ass mustard sneakers too of course

Daw: gave him more turtle motifs to match his “turtle-esque” gameplay style by giving him a protective hoodie and turning his “healing pad” pack into a bulky turtleshell backpack (he’s also wearing a turtleneck sweater shirt underneath the coat lol). His coat is somewhat translucent like shiny plastic cuz i thought it would look neat, tried to ditch the goofy-ass jumpsuit thing he had by giving him a belt to separate shirt and pants. Not too sure if i made him appear enough as a medic as that’s his main thing, the coat and gloves could probably help but idk, but i adjusted his personality presentation to be more easygoing and warmhearted with the closed-eyes so maybe that could give a healer energy.

Duchess: old ladies who know how to kick ass are rly cool. her whole thing’s making walls and constructs out of this golden gooey energy but nothing in her design tells you about that, so i decided to give her a cape/cloak made of that same golden essence so that it’s more apparent on what she can use it for, it also makes her appear more like royalty which was prolly what they were going for. Kept the haircut cuz that beehive thing was very goofy but it fits the vibe of everything else

Roka: she looked like a blowup sexdoll version of Master Chief which is… very cursed, and it tells nothing about her being able to fly around and stomp on people, so i made her bug themed! She’s like a cross between a wasp and dragonfly, the bulletproof wings are rocket-powered and can fully rotate the other direction to give her a forward boost of momentum to stomp people with her slightly more exaggerated boots, they also neatly fold away when she’s not flying. She’s rockin’ that tokusatsu hero look, it gives her a lot more energy to her personality.

Daveers: hated drawing them and i feel unsatisfied but i do like what ideas i had for them. Gave them more of a “sketchy mad scientist” vibe and personality with a shit-eating grin and all that, also tried to give them a “test tube contraption” thing going on by having their helmet be entirely glass and there being tubes and bottles all over their baggy jumpsuit full of poisons and chemicals. Gave them a spray-can backpack that stores all their toxic sludge tho im not too sure if it fits the rest of them or not… whatever. Tried giving them a chemical burn mark on one half of their face but it’s blending in with the hair rip

Jabali: he’s a healer whose powers come from “his own pulse”, but the weird pacemaker thing on his heart is the only way of knowing that so i made him waaaayyy more heart themed! His cool-ass hat’s got a blood cell design on it, his coat’s got a vein pattern, his shoulder pads look like aortas and arteries, i think his dreadlock ponytail could also match the aorta look. I seriously felt that vibe of the cool badass black guy with the glasses and coat and wide tippable hat needed to be enhanced even more, he had all the ingredients to be one stylish mfer but they weren’t mixed in properly, depressing.

Vale: i was racking my head on what to do with her because the only thing going on with her was “sniper” and “bionic legs”, but i decided to make her a “scrapper” like what they called Emari in that one short by turning that “burlap sack hobo” look she originally had into more of a defining feature as something recycled from a bunch of scrap she collected. Turned her “how do you do fellow kids” backwards hat into a slick bandana that has her sniper goggles attached to it, made her braids/dreadlocks into a cool ponytail befitting of a sniper though i wished i decorated them with more stuff other than the power plugs at some of their tips, like nuts and bolts acting as hair beads. Her bionic legs are also more heavily emphasized here, she’s like 70% leg like Byakuya Togami Danganronpa and that makes her a bit more taller than most, i can see her running around with them rly fast also they have large springs in them for extra jump (also they matched those spring like curly tips in her og hairstyle)

Emari: tried to make her bulky armor even more like it’s made of scrap like the “scrapper” she is, tho since i kinda suck at mechanical greebling she looks very cluttered and hard to read. I tried putting cute little stickers and graffiti on her armor to give her more of a fun-loving vibe despite her imposing build, felt like she’d decorate her armor for fun. Gave her helmet a visor to give her some cool toughness and added lil things on it reminiscent of bear ears cuz her silhouette needed a lil something. Problem i have with drawing her is that her silhouette ended up looking too similar to 1-0FF’s redesign, it really needs some fixing cuz it’s pretty damn rough.

Kyps: she could’ve served so much cunt but she didn’t, so i needed to change that. To match her invisibility powers as a spy i themed her off of chameleons and mirrors — i un-balded her for improved silhouette by giving her a hairstyle similar to a chameleon tail (tho it also looks like a glass Prince Rupert’s drop and mirrors are also glass), gave her “earrings” similar to mirror handles, made her coat a lot longer and have it slightly reminiscent of fractured or cut glass, give it a coattail like a chameleon tail, and tried giving faint patterns on the clothes and especially the tied that gives a sort of “shimmery” kinda vibe??? She’s reminding me a lot of Inteleon right now

1-0FF: actually my favorite out of the redesigns, he was so tricky to do but i think i got him pretty right. Wanted him to appear even more of a friendly recycling bot toughened up by constant battle, replaced that menacing eye of his with a friendly smile on a screen (that i took from an app icon from my ipad out of laziness lol) and gave him little symbols of recycling like little sprout iconography and a recycling symbol heart, though as contrast to all that i gave him scars and battle damage so you know he kicks ass. Still wanted to keep the trashcan look so his head kinda resembles those trashcans with the spinny rotating lids, tried my best to make the rest of the body also trashcanny. Turned that vacuum gun of his into a megaman-type arm gun because why did they make it a separate component that’s so stupid.

Starchild: turned him from a rip-off Guardians of the Galaxy character into something more like a rock monster guy since his main ability's called Diamond Skin and it does.... guess what. I put crystals on different parts of his body and I thought about the "hair" on his body being made of those weird fuzzy kinds of crystals (realized it was a missed opportunity to give him chest hair rip). Wanted to make his name "Star Child" a lot more literal by inspiring him off of a shooting star, which is why I gave him that plume of smoke for hair. Since he's a (former) proud tribal warrior guy I wanted his design to lean more heavily into that by giving him tattoos that are like geometric stone carvings??? and giving him clothes and jewelry that give a sort of non-existent tribal culture vibe, his clothes also have a sort of bismuth pattern to them.

Teo: okay this fucker was the reason why I did not finish this. His design was so unimaginably boring that it was very difficult to come up with a "twist" for him while still having him be the standard shooty guy. Days later I immediately thought "Space Dandy" and decided to make him be way more flamboyant with a pompadour as his main feature, befitting of the "goofy space adventure" vibe this game tried and failed to capture. In my head his backstory was that he was raised from birth to be a regular ass disposable space soldier, leaving the army much much later to pursue a quest for self-identity... the identity he chose for himself being that of an over-the-top galactic popstar. I imagine his "Smoke Bomb" ability being glittering colorful smoke instead, like a popstar entering the stage out of artificial smoke clouds.

okay I'm tired. i am cooler than playstation. goodbye

[tenaciousduckpoetry]

i. Carbon Copy

Miles finds himself in a new dimension with a friend who he didn't think he'd see again.

Just to be clear, in Mile's original universe reader was his best friend, but there was an accident and reader moved.

Warnings: angst, cannon violence, reader is not so nice, changed some stuff from the movie to fit the series a little better, not edited yet, reader genuinely seems crazy and is mentioned to be manic

Miles wasn't sure what he was expecting when he arrived at his 'original' dimension. Flowers? Peace? He didn't know. But he was not expecting an onslaught of violence and crime within every inch of the city he would have called home. His panic sent him frantic, running to escape the multiple spider-people after him. With Miguel just minutes away from finding him, Miles wasn't sure where to go.

The only place he could think of was his house. He hoped it was his house.

There was a sort of comfort when he first climbed through his window. The smell of freshly done laundry and his mamas cooking had his stuttering heartbeat slowing to a consistent pace. His room looked the same as it did back home. His desk was cluttered in recent drawings, shoes thrown next to the door and bin overflowing with paper balls. Expect, there were no expensive Vision Academy books.. and his uniform was nowhere to be found. Maybe he stayed on campus in this universe as well? He'd have to play it safe and just assume so.

His head perked up when the door began to open. He almost wanted to hide, but something stopped him. "Mama.." he mumbled, watching her freeze in the doorway with a basket full of freshly washed clothes under one arm. Rio looked at him for a moment, squinting for a moment before offering her gentle smile. The heartfelt conversation that Miles had planned didn't go as he expected.

When he mentioned Spider-Man and then being Spider-Man he wasn't expecting the laugh that came from his mother. His own mum was laughing at him. He wasn't joking. This was not funny, and if it was the universe playing some sick joke on him it was working. The moment ended just as fast as it started with Miles quickly rushing up the stairs. He wanted to run. To feel the air rushing past his face instead of how his blood seemed to rush so loudly beneath his skin.

He glitched, doubling over on the stairs before mustering the strength to pull himself up. He needed air. The corridor seemed to grow tighter around him and for a moment he wondered if there was any oxygen in the room. The last few steps were the hardest, but soon enough he was on the roof of his apartment. He didn't have time to look behind him before he heard the thump of heavy boots on the ground.

His head turned to face whoever was behind him, only to come into contact with a fist. He tripped over his feet and soon enough the world grew dark once again.

Instead of waking up in his dorm as if this was all a bad dream, he woke up tied to a punching bag. Miles was sure he had a hefty bruise on his cheek from the dull ache it provided. His eyes, droopy and adjusting to the light, squinted as he glanced across the room. There was a shadow against the wall. Or was that two? He took another look and.. yeah, that was two.

A part of him wondered if this was the end, but his thoughts were interrupted by the voices of his capturers.

"You aren't listening to me. You can't keep him here forever. Someone's gonna realize what's happening-"

They were cut off.

"No one is going to realize if you don't let them follow." A voice so similar to his own spoke. He heard a scoff and soon enough you came into his view.

Clad in neon green and black spandex, a hoodie over the top. You pulled your mask from your face. It was black and looked quite similar to that of the Prowlers with some simple stylistic changes. Miles felt his breath get caught in his throat. It couldn't be. He hadn't seen you in a year. Unresolved feelings bubbled in his chest and he almost called out your name.

"What are we going to do with you, copy cat?" You hummed, arms crossed as you lightly kicked the punching bag just next to his right leg.

Copy cat? That was a new one.

Another face came into his view and the colour drained from his face. The Prowler stepped forward and suddenly he was transported to the moment where he found out just who his uncle was. For a moment he thought it was his tio Aaron.

"Miles." The voice spoke, mask finally disappearing and exposing just who it was. His eyes widened as he stared straight at the carbon copy of himself standing just a few meters away.

"You're me." Holy shit. How could he have been so foolish? Maybe Miguel was right.. this was his fault. He wasn't supposed to be Spiderman. He didn't sign up to face the villain version of himself. That wasn't a part of the contract!

"No shit, Sherlock. Do you want a reward or something?" You huffed, turning back to 42 Miles. "We should just get rid of him. Who's going to know other than us?"

"Glad to know you're willing to kill me." The other Miles (E-42 Miles) spoke up, venom dripping from his voice. He was stoic and moody, unlike you who looked as if you were starting to enjoy this. "You'd do the same with me." You shrugged. You knew Miles, your Miles like the back of your hand. He wouldn't kill you. At least you hoped he wouldn't.

"Uh. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I'm right here." Miles spoke, a migraine forming from the slight bickering and constant swaying of the punching bag. "It would be nice to know if you're going to kill me or not." He huffed slightly, hands fiddling with the the chords that were wrapped around him.

You and 42 Miles glanced towards the carbon copy swaying on the red punching bag. You watched as 42 Miles stared him down as if he was trying to analyze him.

"You better start explaining yourself. I want to know who you are and what you're doing here." He spoke, a more montone feel to his voice. How was Miles supposed to explain this.

'Oh, by the way, I'm actually from a different dimension where my dad is going to die in three days and I really need to get back there, but the spider that was supposed to bite you, bit me, and then I got hunted down by a grown man.' Yeah, no. That wouldn't work.

"You won't believe what I tell you." Miles spoke hesitantly. "My name is Miles Morales. I'm spider-man. I just need to get back home so I can save-" he cut himself off, "I just need to get home, okay? And the only way I can do that is if you let me go."

The way you were staring at him sent a shiver down his spine. He'd never seen you look so.. different. Instead of the cheerful personality that you had in his dimension you were different. You were moody, had the eyes of a manic person, and you were a villain. You definitely weren't a villain where he came from.

"If you think your pathetic sob story is going to get you free, then you're quite wrong." You spat at him.

[seat-safety-switch]

Everyone loves the basic feeling of competence. No matter what field of human endeavour, doing well at it gives us a little zing of all the good brain chemicals. Sometimes, for those pursuits that are beneficial in some way, there’s even social recognition. The approval of your peers. What could be better? Prize money, which you can also get if you do especially well. Just not at anything I’ve ever been good at.

So when the county fair was in town, and they offered a $500 prize for best burnout, I figured I would head on down. Now, traditionally the burnout contest has been exclusively the domain of hoity-toity redneck in-groups. They align along vehicle brands, or trucks in general. Because of this elitism and exclusionary belief structure, they would never accommodate someone like me, who is more like a freelance piece of human detritus and holds no particular loyalties to any kind of vehicle except “cheap.”

However, the county fair, being a socialist meta-construct of the government-oversubsidized 4H Club and taxpayer-fattened county, made a rule that said any dumbass with an automobile could enter into the competition. No making rules that exclude, say, a barely ratcheted-together 1977 Dodge Aspen that spends most of its combustion cycle billowing steam from a blown head gasket and the other portion emitting plasma-torch-hot nitromethane fire from the exhaust barely cooled by their circuitous torment inside the twin sequential turbochargers, themselves stolen off of poorly-supervised industrial equipment and ported to a mirror sheen with a combination of primitive die grinding and a near-manic attention to detail after accidentally reading back issues of Hot Rod at 3AM and deciding maybe sleep was optional this month. No, they’d have to let me play. Mom said.

Did I win? Beat all the other kids? Show them the biggest, nastiest burnout that had ever existed? Not exactly. It turns out that to hold a burnout for more than about ten seconds requires two things. First, tires that are not actively bald and whose carbon-steel structural cords are not dangling out of the holes in the carcass. The second, and much more important thing, is brakes that work in order to hold the car still enough to skid the tires. These brakes also keep you from taking out the county reeve and his family, who sat in a remarkably un-protected area of the judging booth. On the plus side, I did get to show off how good I am at running from the cops. That sort of thing feels good.

[bucknastysbabe]

Oh look another subby Aegon fic, who would do that????

Anyways!

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: A little prequel to how our lovely Uller met Aegon. Then made him cry with womanly power. He’s such a brat.

Tags: Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends, Dom!reader, dornish!reader, sub!Aegon, overstim, riding the dragon babyyyy, v!sex, alcohol/drug use, man tears of course, no beta we die like Aegon’s liver, crying during sex, AFAB!reader, what’s slow burn these two are way too horny for that

Burning matchstick quick

Ali had dragged you along to the social claiming, “These guys are rich and cute!” Rich and cute usually meant coke and assholes. Besides you’d heard the infamous Prince Aegon Targaryen would be here. As the Governor of Dorne’s daughter you would punch him out if possible.

He had a punchable face.

You wore a tight dress and impossibly high heels, decked in gold jewelry. Your childhood best friend, the princess, was similarly styled. She was already drawing looks with her easy smiles and sultry eyes. Aliandra flipped her hair effortlessly and pulled you along through the crowd and flashing lights. People grinded together around you, the smell of weed and booze heady in the air.

You were determined to break out of that nerdy shell from your younger years and make your mark in college. Most knew you as Governor Uller’s eldest daughter, the smart one, the dutiful one, the serious one. You’d get a fresh start at King’s Landing University.

Aliandra yelled into your ear, “I have a friend back here! He’s the President!” You rolled your eyes as a cocky looking blonde swaggered up. He declared, “Princess and sexy friend! Name’s Jason. Jason LANNISTER!” You weren’t sure why he needed to yell that but frankly weren’t surprised from his last name.

He wrapped arms around both of your shoulders, escorting you two past some pledges and a hallway. You tried to remain unfazed by the scene in the room at the end. Emphasis on the tried because you were watching the prince of Westeros snorting an obscene amount of blow. Ali babbled, “Holy shit! Let me in on that!”

You stared at the carbon copy of Jason and asked, “Can I get a drink?”

The twin chuckled and asked, “What’s your poison Uller? I try to be respectful and let chicks watch,” he jabbed a thumb to Jason, “unlike that asshole.” You leaned against the counter and rolled your eyes, huffing, “I guess I’m already famous. Just some white shit and a soda, Tyland.”

He grinned at you and poured up.

The manic prince bumped into you, glaring with blown pupils. He sneered, “Watch out! Fucking freshman.” Rage lit in your chest. Aliandra cackled, “Oh he’s going to get it.” You shoved him and hissed back.

“Watch out! Fucking drunk pricks.”

Aegon’s mouth opened dumbly for a long period, his cheeks flushing. He muttered something and grabbed a beer. Off he went down the hallway. You commented, “What a dick head…” Tyland shrugged, “Glad you gave it back to him— never seen the slayer that befuddled.”

Jason interjected with a high Ali hanging on his arm, “Nice one! The slayer is oh-for-three.”

“Why are you calling him that?”

The Lannisters simultaneously responded, “Record of fucking most freshman.”

You scoffed and suggested having shots instead of being more annoyed by the Targaryen’s presence. Shots flowed, you met new people, and ended up forcefully dragged by your best friend to dance. Aliandra laughed in glee, dancing on a her true crush, Addam. Jason awkwardly pouted nearby nursing a beer.

A body sidled up next to yours, you turning in surprise. Your stony eyes met the violet eyes of the prince. Aegon seemed to be sizing you up. You gave him a look and turned back around pointedly. Then a ringed hand curled around your waist, pulling you into his warm body. He’d better be careful or you were going to kick him. Totally did not want to ride his cock until he cried or anything.

“You’re hot for a stuck up rich girl,” he rasped into your ear. You swayed to the music, gritting your jaw at Aegon’s stupidity. He continued, “No really, I don’t usually go for the Dornish.” You gave him a look as if to ask ‘What the shit?’. He smiled with glassy eyes, too invested in your face. You tried to keep your eyes from darting to his dumb pretty lashes or full lips.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you spat.

“And you’re a fucking bitch, what’s the hold up?”

This blonde asshole really had the gall. You didn’t mind it anymore, impulsively setting your mind on fucking the attitude out of the prince. You twisted around to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Aegon smirked down at you, grabbing a handful of your ass lecherously. His face fell when you teased, “I’ll show you a gods-damned bitch. Take me to the back, my prince.” A flicker of something passed over his face, but Aegon exited the dance floor, a hand tightly at the small of your back.

The brother room was empty, Aegon slapping off the light. You purred, “I think the couch will be a good spot, what say you?” Aegon nervously laughed, “Not the first time, sweetheart.” He was out of his element, you’d dealt with enough bluffing males surrounding your papa to know that.

You pushed Aegon down onto the ratty couch and straddled his waist in one fluid motion. He yelped and two palms instinctively held your waist. He stuttered, “F-fuck you’re forward.” You relished the fear in his widened violet orbs.

“You haven’t even seen the half of it, sweetheart.”

You gripped his chin in a rough embrace and claimed the prince’s full lips. He tried to fight back, locking you two in a battle of teeth and tongue. You licked into his mouth, moaning at his skilled tongue. Aegon hummed at that, nipping your bottom lip playfully.

You ignored his antics and massaged his tongue with your own gently. Lull him into complacency first, then shock the poor baby again. One of his hands stroked at your hair while you shared kisses with him. Aegon moaned low in his throat, shifting his hips minutely. Your lips danced against his almost perfectly. Almost too much so for the first time.

You pulled pack, a string of spit connecting your lips. Aegon groaned with a grimace, “What?” His dick was insistently making it’s presence known between your thighs. With a sharp grin you slowly grinded up, up, up against him. The prince gasped into a broken wet noise. His violet eyes were frantically darting around— overwhelmed.

You cooed into the shell of his ear, “What? Never had a chick fuck you right?”

He half-whispered, “O-of course. Fuck- do I look like?”

You nipped at his pierced ear, kissing your way to his pretty neck. Aegon had such pallid skin. You wanted to see it flush and purple under your teeth. Still rocking against the flustered prince in a filthy grind, you sucked bruises into his pulse point. Aegon’s hands gripped for dear life, whining and immediately biting his lip to stifle the noise.

You murmured, “I’m gonna ride you now.”

He nodded in a daze, red lips swollen from bites. You thumbed at a particularly dark hickey, enjoying the way Aegon writhed. His breath came in short pants, a flush high on his cheeks. Laying a hot kiss on the tender hollow of Aegon’s throat, lithe hands slid down his taut body.

He threw his head back petulantly as you undid his expensive belt. Aegon was at a loss for words, one second looking like he was going to curse you out, then the next as if the prince was going to sing your praises. Nothing resembling the common tongue slipped past his lips besides low moans and bitten off whimpers.

Your manicured hand eased Aegon’s flushed cock out of his underwear. Loud bass echoed on in the distance, only the sound of the prince’s and your breath intermingling. Your thumb rubbed around the crown of his leaking dick.

“Pretty. Like you.”

Aegon urged, “C’mon.”

His brows were cutely pulled together, sweat beginning to bead on his temples.

You used your off hand to hike up the skin-tight dress. Aegon muttered under his breath, staring at the neon thong. His hands reached towards your pussy, you slapping them away to his chagrin. You slid the flimsy piece of underwear to the side, laughing breathlessly as you eased the blonde in. His lashes fluttered and throat bobbed— helpless to the feeling of it all.

You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, starting a rough pace on Aegon’s cock. His face fell forward, rapid breath hitting your shoulder. Aegon whined, “The fuck…are you doing to me?” All you could do was smile and pet his silver hair, taking your pleasure.

He filled you up perfectly, snug against your ridged insides. You cried out softly when Aegon finally jerked his hips up in sloppy, stilted movements. The Targaryen babbled, “Ah- ah- oh gods don’t stop! You’re so good!” His constant moaning was leaving a damp spot of drool on your dress, the man completely undone.

You clenched onto his throbbing cock, sighing sweetly as the feeling of fullness. He was leaking so much pre you felt even slicker than usual. Aegon rutted frantically into your molten pussy, gasping and whining with scrunched eyes. Taken by ecstasy, your fingers squeezed his mottled throat.

Aegon cried out in rapture as his entire body shook. He grabbed hard enough at your flesh to bruise, high keening sounds deafening your hearing. He spilled into your pussy with hot ropes of cum, violet eyes rolling into his skull. You cruelly laughed, riding Aegon through his orgasm.

You growled, “C’mon give me another— m’not done slut.”

He shook his head and whimpered, “No, I can’t, s’too much.” You knew there was the short period you could coax out a more intense secondary release. A trembling hand rubbed at your clit, simultaneously mocking Aegon for cumming so quick. He begged for mercy, sweaty locks bouncing as the prince’s head bobbed.

You grabbed onto the pale hair, giving him a vicious yank. A low groan ripped from your throat, a heated flush running up the length of your body. Your skin prickled at the feeling and more noises poured unbidden from your lips. Aegon cried again, “Ahhh- pleaseee- it hurts!”

You hissed, “You want me to stop then?”

He wailed in frustration, teeth baring in the dark of the room. Aegon mewled, “Nonono, keeep going, fuuUCK!” He writhed underneath your flexing thighs, cramping with the intensity. Aegon’s cock was brought back to hardness, throbbing inside your pulsing cunt. A pang of white hot ecstasy sent another clenching ripple through your soaked core.

Violet eyes poured tears down his blotchy cheeks, Aegon drooling from the overstimulation. He chanted your name like a prayer, sobbing between each pained cry. He trembled while you laved a pointed tongue over his rapidly aching bruises. Your breath hitched when Aegon’s cock started to nudge against your sweet spot.

“That’s it, you got it, fuck me one last time,” you urged.

“Oh my gods I’m gonna cum again,” Aegon blubbered.

Your thighs slapped against his lap in a lazier pattern now, slipping into that final stage. Aegon’s sniveling and carrying on was music to your ears. You threw your hair back, breath resorted to staccato pants. Yanking the bratty prince’s pale curls one last time you seized up with a long, lewd cry.

Aegon wheezed like he’d been punched in the gut— slowly realizing he was spilling again. He let out a confused sob as more cum filled your swollen cunt. You cooed, “That’s it prince, good boy, good little boy.” Fat tears leaked down your skin, Aegon’s chest shaking with sobs. You didn’t expect him to react so…passionately.

Using a gentle press of your palm, you tilted Aegon’s crumpled face up. He sucked in a wet breath, red-rimmed eyes peering up to your dark orbs. You complimented, “You’re so pretty when you cry.” Licking up a salty tear sent the point across, the prince rasping a small reply, “Thanks.” He nuzzled into your body like a lost puppy— seeking protection.

Sliding out of him caused a gush of slick and cum to leak, Aegon moaning softly at the feeling. He whimpered into your tits, “Don’ leave.” Smiling softly and curling a possessive hand around his waist you replied, “I won’t. Only if you give me your number, dragon prince.”

[aswallowssong]

Sicktember 2024 #2: Overindulgence

Did @starstwinkleplanetsshine and I also create a Marauders AU? Of course we did. Have we ever named an AU together? Naturally, no.

“Pads be careful! You can’t have sweets!” 

“I can’t have chocolates, love. If I couldn’t have sweets then I’d have to stay far away from you.”

Sirius booped the tip of her nose, and she giggled, taking a moment before gesturing to the bag he was holding.

“You think those are nice?”

The sweets in Sirius’ hand were bright, somewhere between yellow and orange, and he’d been eating them for most of the night. He couldn’t have the Chocolate Bats she’d been feasting on herself, what with his chocolate allergy, which she loved to tease him about. What with the dog thing, and all.

“Yeah,” he said, popping another one in his mouth. “Sometimes they make you float, but Mrs. Flume has some that she keeps without that part. I want to eat them without worrying about smacking my head about the ceiling, you know?”

Clara giggled, popping another chocolate into her mouth. He’d lost track of how many she’d had, but he didn’t really care. It was Friday night, and they were holed up in the Room of Requirement, so if she had a sugar-high and couldn’t get to sleep, it wasn’t like they needed to be in class in the morning.

And it wasn’t like there weren’t other things they could do if she had trouble sleeping.

“Makes sense,” she said, swallowing and tilting her head. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Peggy doesn't share candy,” she said simply, and Sirius briefly tried to think of an interaction to refute that, but came up blank.

“Huh.”

“They're her favorites, but she's stingy with them. She doesn't even share them with Moony.”

“Well, Moony doesn't care for them. He only ever wants chocolates.”

The word sat heavy in his mouth, and he suppressed a shudder, watching Clara pop another into her mouth.

Instead, he pulled her against his chest, settling his arms around her and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Do you want any Firewhisky?”

She shook her head against his chest. “Níl,” she said, “I'm alright. I just want to sit like this.”

He chuckled, tightening his arms a little. “You don't want to play fiddle?”

“You really meant that?”

She'd turned towards him then, a light in her eyes. Sirius knew she loved to play his violin, knew it was a more expensive instrument than her parents could have ever afforded to buy her or her sisters. He'd seen her fiddle; it was an old, well loved instrument with just enough quality to not sound abysmal.

They didn't get a lot of time to play anymore, and he nodded quickly. “Of course I did. I love listening to you play.”

“Will you play first?”

He hesitated for a moment. Playing brought back raw memories, but the shine in her eyes made it impossible to say no. He nodded, wiping some chocolate from the corner of her mouth and kissing her forehead as he stood up.

“Of course, dearest. Anything for you.”

He played for a while, settling into it the longer he had the bow in his hand. It had been at least a month, if not more, so his fingers ached as they pressed on the strings, but he didn't care. He could feel Clara’s eyes on him, and chuckled, mid song, when she finished her chocolates and started in on his Whisbees. She made a face at the first one, probably not expecting the way it fizzled like carbonation in her mouth, but he watched her eat another, and another, so they must have grown on her.

They were quite nice, and she seemed content and happy. What else could he want for the love of his life?

After a little while he finished the songs he'd memorized, at least that he still cared to play, and held out the violin and bow.

“Alright, my sweet. Your turn.”

She grinned, a little manic in expression, and he realized she must definitely have a sugar-high, just like he'd feared would come. She scrambled to her feet, dropping the now empty bag of Whisbees before taking the bow and the violin in her hands. She took a moment to run her hand along the body of the instrument, and when she looked up, the sparkle in her eyes could have outshone the sun.

“Thank you, mo ghrá.”

He felt a wide grin split his face, and he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Of course, dear. Go on, give a– what is it Brianna always says, a ditty?”

She giggled, high and bright, and he could have drank it in and never needed anything else to sustain him.

He watched her play several songs, her body moving with the cadence of the music in a way he'd been taught never to let his own. She bounced and swayed, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips as the folk music of her childhood flowed from the strings. He could have sat there an listened to her play forever, never growing tired of it, when she started to slow, a frown crossing her face before she stopped playing completely, a puzzled and uncomfortable look on her face.

“Love?” He asked, shifting to sit up fully, confusion filling him. “Is something wrong?”

“I…” she started, stopping and swallowing. “Maybe. I think–” She cut herself off, turning slightly as she stifled a large belch with her fist.

Sirius’ eyebrows raised.

“Wow.”

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, eyes shut as her eyebrows drew together.

Sirius frowned. Clara would have normally made some sort of side remark or comment about how often the boys belched in front of her, but instead she looked… in pain?

“You alright, dearest?”

“Um–” she stopped short and held out the violin to him. He stood quickly, taking it from her and moving to place it in its case.

“Love?” He said over his shoulder, but was only met with a quiet moan and another muffled belch, which only caused anxiety to twist in his chest.

Sirius straightened up and turned back toward Clara to see that she still had a hand over her mouth, but the other was now curled protectively around her midsection.

“Clara?” He said, hating the way the worry came through in his voice. He crossed toward her, speaking all the while.“Clara, love, what's wrong?”

“I–” she swallowed hard, shaking her head as another, wet belch escaped her. When she spoke again, her voice was panicked. “I'm gonna be sick.”

How badly his own chest seized at her words was, in his opinion, incredibly embarrassing. They were nearly seventeen, something as simple as illness shouldn't cause him to get flighty. Yet, he had to fight his instincts to not flee for the door as the color drained from Clara's face.

“What?”

“I'm gonna be sick, I'm–” her sentence cut off, turning into another wet belch that became a gag as Clara clamped a hand down hard over her mouth.

Sirius didn't know what he was doing next, but his body acted for him, whipping his wand out to… what? 

What am I supposed to do?

There was a pop, and Sirius looked down, startled, so see that a bin had appeared out of thin air, directly next to him.

He would have stopped to wonder how it had gotten there, and later realized it was because it was something they required and been immensely grateful, but in the moment he simply grabbed it and shoved it under Clara's chin. His other arms wrapped around her as he guided her to sit on the ground as gently as he could, and it was only a moment before she moaned again. It was short lived, her breath catching as she stiffened.

“Siri–”

She didn't get his full name out before she buckled forward, a thick belch giving way to a wave of sick, her hands clutching at the edges of the bin so tightly that her knuckles went white.

Sirius made sure the bin was stable before pulling her hair back and hastily securing it with the elastic around his wrist.

“It's okay, dear,” he said, trying with everything he had to keep his voice even. Confident. “You'll be alright. Don't be frightened.”

He knew the last sentence would fall on deaf ears. If he knew his Clara, she was already on the doorstep of a panic attack that her body didn't have time for. She vomited several times, each time coming just at the end of a painful sounding belch, and by the third time she heaved, there were quick tears flowing down her cheeks. By the fifth, she was sobbing, fear and discomfort completely taking her over.

He was frightened as well, but more than that, he was broken over the fact that he couldn't fix it. All he could do was rub her back, right along her spine, and tell her she wasn't alone, and that it would end.

“It's alright, dearest,” he said quietly after a particularly strong round. “You're okay. I'm right here, and I won't let anything happen to you. It's going to be alright, love. Try to breathe.”

After several unsuccessful attempts, Clara was able to draw a full, deep breath, and then another, and another.

Her death-grip on the edges of the bin released enough for Sirius to push it away, but not out of reach, and turn her to pull her into his chest, where she shuddered and sniffled, matching his breathing as he continued to take full, even breaths.

He let her even out a little more before speaking quietly.

“How are you feeling now?”

It was a moment before she answered, voice rough from vomiting. “I'm n-not sure.”

“That's alright,” he said. “Why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill? We didn't have to come up here tonight.”

“But I wasn't,” she said, her tone absolutely honest. “I wasn’t and I'm still not. Or, I wasn't, and then I really was, and now it's going away. That didn't feel like any other time I've been sick before. I've never…”

He looked down at her, and her cheeks were a flush of red, but when he pressed a kiss to her forehead, she wasn't warm.

She's embarrassed. But why would she be embarrassed? He thought for a moment and came to a conclusion, but it seemed silly.

“You've never, what?”

“I've never… well. The, you know. The belching. That's not normal when my stomach’s ill. Only sometimes when I've had a soda, back home, but they don't make me sick. But what could have–”

“The Whisbees,” Sirius said suddenly. “That's what they remind me of, something you had us try when we visited you and your family over summer.”

“Sprite,” she said automatically, clearing her throat and shifting back. She was still pale, and obviously uncomfortable, but she didn't look like she was about to be sick again. “I thought so too, the way they're nearly carbonated, but I don't have problems with Sprite. I never have.”

She sniffled, wiping at the remaining tears on her cheeks. She was obviously still shaky, and he was feeling as much himself. 

Sirius wracked his brain for a reason, any reason, that the sweets or anything else would have made her sick. They'd been in the Room of Requirement since just after dinner, and all they'd done was read, eat sweets, and snog a little.

Maybe a lot.

Dinner had been normal, but filling as always. Then they'd read, snogged, read, snogged. Clara pulled the sweets out, and started in on her chocolate while he'd had his Whisbees. 

Ah.

Things started sliding into place faster than he could get the words out.

“You ate dinner, all that chocolate, and the rest of my Whisbees. That's probably why you're ill, you were too full.”

“But I wasn't, not until I'd been playing a while, and then it just felt like there was air trapped, and so I thought maybe the Whisbees, but then it wasn't just air, it was nausea so, so badly. It's still there, now, though I don't think I'll be sick again… I hope.”

Sirius thought again, trying to figure out what he was missing.

“What sort of chocolate?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Milk, like I always get.”

Anything Nell had ever told him about potions and chemistry flooded his brain at once, and before he realized when he was doing, he reached out and grabbed the bin she'd been so sick into, peering inside to see if he was right.

“Gross, Sirius, what are you doing?!”

“Using my brain for once. I know what made you sick, dearest. You curdled the milk in the chocolate with the acid in the Whisbees.”

Her eyes widened, cheeks reddening as she realized what he was saying. “What?”

“Acid can curdle dairy. Nell told me that once, though I have no bloody idea what we were talking about to get us there. But the curdling and the air from the Whisbees probably made each other worse, and then you'd eaten so much of both, it was bound to happen.”

Clara blinked up at him, cheeks darkening more, and then she buried her face in her hands.

“Merlin, that's so embarrassing.”

“Being sick isn't embarrassing, Clara. Not even when it's your own fault. You didn't know it would happen.”

“But I shouldn't have been eating all that anyway, I've just been so stressed lately and I completely let myself overindulge, and now I ruined our night, and–”

“Hey! Hey, Clara, no.” Sirius took a hold of her shoulders, waiting until she looked up at him. He gave her a small smile. “Love. You didn't ruin anything. I'm just glad you aren't really ill. The worst that happens is your stomachs sore the rest of the night, maybe a little tomorrow.”

“But I was sick,” she said, “I was sick and crying and I know it freaks you out as much as me, and I… I'm sorry.”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“Don't apologize. I love you, Clara. Isn't there something that says ‘in sickness and in health and when you make bad food decisions?’”

“No, and also, that's marriage.”

His cheeks flushed, but he chuckled, pulling his wand out and vanishing the sick in the bin before scooting back into the pillows they'd been sitting in before, pulling her after him to lay against his chest.

“Well, whatever it is, I love you. And I'd never leave you, even if you did stomach chemistry and made yourself vomit.”

She sighed, laying herself against his chest. Now that the panic had settled down, he was happy to have stayed calm for himself. For her. And he'd been able to take care of her while she was sick, just like she'd done for him multiple times over the years. 

“I love you, Sirius,” she said quietly. Sleepily, probably exhausted from the fear and the heaving.

He kissed the top of her head, rubbing his hand gently up and down her arm.

“I love you too, sweets.”

“Please don't say ‘sweets.’”

He chuckled, pulling her closer to him as he settled into the pillows, and breathing in her shampoo as they snuggled together in the dim of the candlelit room.

[dear-indies]

Hello! Can I request help for a Japanese or East Asian face claim with femme fatale-gothic vibes? Somewhat like Morticia Addams or Anne Hathaway placed in a Tim Burton movie? Thank you!

for the femme fatale-goth asian fc ask, preferable someone in their 30s please? thank you so much! 😵‍💫🩷

Dichen Lachman (1982) Tibetan / German - Altered Carbon, Severance, Supergirl.

Greta Lee (1983) Korean - Russian Doll.

Eleanor Matsuura (1983) Japanese / White - Into the Badlands.

Tao Okamoto (1985) Japanese - Westworld.

Sonoya Mizuno (1986)Japanese / English, Argentinian - Manic.

Naomi Watanabe (1987) Japanese / Taiwanese - some of her outfits!

JuJu Chan (1989) Hongkonger - Wu Assassins and Fistful of Vengeance.

Rina Sawayama (1990) Japanese - is bisexual and pansexual.

Stephanie Hsu (1990) Taiwanese - some scenes from Everything Everywhere All at Once.

Jessica Henwick (1992) Chinese Singaporean / English - The Matrix.

Younger:

Natasha Liu Bordizzo (1994) Chinese / White - Ahsoka.

Naomi J. Ogawa (1996) Japanese - Wednesday.

Hope this helps you out!

[mariacallous]

Antipsychotics come from a long line of accidents. In 1876, German chemists created a textile dye called methylene blue, which happened to also dye cells. It meandered into biology labs and, soon after, proved lethal against malaria parasites. Methylene blue became modern medicine’s first fully synthetic drug, lucking into gigs as an antiseptic and an antidote for carbon monoxide poisoning. Cue the spinoffs: A similar molecule, promethazine, became an antihistamine, sedative, and anesthetic. Other phenothiazines followed suit. Then, in 1952, came chlorpromazine.

After doctors sedated a manic patient for surgery, they noticed that chlorpromazine suppressed his mania. A series of clinical trials confirmed that the drug treated manic symptoms, as well as hallucinations and delusions common in psychoses like schizophrenia. The US Food and Drug Administration approved chlorpromazine in 1954. Forty different antipsychotics sprang up within 20 years. “They were discovered serendipitously,” says Jones Parker, a neuroscientist at Northwestern University. “So we don't know what they actually do to the brain.”

But Parker really wants to know. He has spent his career studying brains flooded with dopamine, the condition that underpins psychosis. And while he doesn’t pretend to fully understand antipsychotics either, he believes he’s got the right approach to the job: gazing directly into brains. With a combination of tiny lenses, microscopes, cameras, and fluorescent molecules, Parker’s lab can observe thousands of individual neurons in mice, in real time, as they experience different antipsychotic drugs. That’s now paying dividends. In results appearing in the August issue of Nature Neuroscience, Parker shows that an assumption about antipsychotics that’s almost as old as the drugs themselves is …. well, wrong.

Neuroscientists have long thought that antipsychotics dampen extreme dopamine transmission by sticking to receptors in a type of cell called spiny projection neurons, or SPNs. The drugs basically box out the dopamine at receptor proteins called D1 or D2 (where “D” stands for dopamine). Each of the spiny neurons sport either D1 or D2—they’re genetically distinct. Experiments on calf brain extracts in the 1970s showed that the most powerful antipsychotics are the ones that cling strongly to the D2 SPNs in particular, so decades worth of antipsychotics were designed and refined with D2 in mind.

But when Parker’s team probed how four antipsychotics affect D1, D2, and mouse behavior, they found that the most drug interaction is actually happening at D1 neurons. “It’s good to start with a logical prediction and then let the brain surprise you,” Parker says.

The notion that D1 receptors may be a more important target upends decades of research in a $15 billion market for drugs that are famously erratic. Antipsychotics don’t work for about 30 percent of people who try them. They’re plagued by side effects, from extreme lethargy to unwanted facial movements, and rarely address the cognitive symptoms of psychosis, like social withdrawal and poor working memory.

Assumptions about D2 ran deep, says Katharina Schmack, a psychiatrist and neuroscientist who was not involved in the work and studies psychosis at the Francis Crick Institute in the United Kingdom: “This was the textbook knowledge.”

“I was surprised, but kind of excited” by the new study’s conclusions, she continues. Now, she says, “We can start to understand the actual mechanism. And that is the first step to then really get to much better treatments.”

Psychosis flares up in the striatum, a small, curved tissue tucked deep in the brain that helps control how you move, feel, and make decisions. Densely packed neurons extend their spiny branches out of the striatum like ribbon cables. Dopamine prompts those neurons to send signals elsewhere in the brain. This interface is where a blaze of dopamine is thought to overwhelm the mind.

About 95 percent of the neurons connecting the striatum to the rest of the brain are SPNs, each sporting either a D1 or D2 receptor. When dopamine clings to D1, those neurons become more excitable; when it clings to D2, those get less so. The entire system interconnects, so it’s hard to pin down true causes and effects. But Parker believes that by monitoring individual cells, scientists can reverse engineer enough of the circuitry to learn how to deliver drugs to it in the most effective way possible.

The first step in his experiment was to mimic excess dopamine in mice by giving them amphetamines. “You inject them with amphetamine, and they run more. If you inject them with antipsychotics first, they run less. That’s the state of the art,” Parker says.

Then, to find out exactly which neurons the amphetamines were interacting with, his team implanted small endoscopes into each mouse’s brain and rigged tiny 2-gram microscopes to peer through the endoscopes. Parker learned this type of in vivo imaging during a postdoc as a Pfizer employee doing research at Stanford University with Mark Schnitzer, a biophysicist who pioneered the method to study neurons more generally. The endoscopes are invasive, but not so bothersome that they get in the way of experiments.

Since D1 and D2 neurons are genetically distinct, the scientists were able to study each individually. As a way to tell them apart, they had designed fluorescent molecules that tagged only the cells with a particular genetic sequence. They then recorded how the neurons reacted after amphetamine injections: D1 SPNs became more excitable, or responsive, and D2 became less so. This matched the textbook theory, Parker says, “but no one had actually shown that yet.”

Then things got weird. Each of the mice had already been injected with one of four drugs: haloperidol, a first-generation drug from the 1950s known for motor side effects; olanzapine, a second-gen drug; clozapine, a powerful drug that’s administered when others don’t work; and MP-10, a drug candidate Pfizer had developed that looked effective in animals but failed during clinical trials in 2019 when it exacerbated psychosis in humans.

Most neuroscientists would wager that the three effective drugs should ignite some action in D2 SPNs, and might do nothing at D1. Indeed, haloperidol and olanzapine countered the amphetamine’s effect on D2, as expected. But clozapine didn’t. And the big surprise was that controlling D1 neurons seemed to be the factor that mattered most. All three effective drugs normalized the action at D1, and MP-10 didn’t. In fact, MP-10 had leveled out activity at D2 but actually made the abnormal D1 activity worse. “It exacerbated the hyperactivity,” Parker says. “That kind of sealed the deal.”

Next, Parker wondered how general this effect is. Most antipsychotics developed over the past 70 years stick to dopamine receptors, but a new generation binds to other sites, like acetylcholine receptors. Might these new drugs still be doing something to D1 neurons indirectly?

Parker’s team picked three promising new drugs—all in the final clinical trials needed for FDA approval—and repeated the first round of experiments. All three somehow normalized D1 activity too. “We were really surprised,” Parker says.

Schmack says it’s “fascinating” that this pattern holds for antipsychotics that target different receptors. “It seems to be a very consistent observation,” she says.

The behavior of the mice also told a consistent story. In both rounds of testing, all of the antipsychotics—except MP-10, which was already known to be ineffective—helped amphetamine-agitated mice slow down and move normally. And their neural activity told a consistent story about why. While the effects on D2 neurons varied, each of those six drugs normalized D1 neurons—suggesting D1 is the receptor that matters more.

To Schmack, these results suggest that drug companies should target D1 in testing—she thinks a drug candidate’s effect on that receptor could be a good proxy for its likelihood of success. “It’s something that we are always desperately in need of,” she says.

“It is extremely powerful, and a wonderful screening tool,” agrees Jessica Walsh, a neuropharmacologist at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill who was not involved in the work. “With all the drugs that already exist, this really shows that with drugs that we thought selectively targeted one receptor—perhaps that’s not the entire story.”

Parker makes a convincing case for targeting D1, Walsh says, by running through the “whole gamut” of drugs: “It was a humongous effort.” Yet Walsh notes that the interconnections between neurons like D1 and D2 SPNs mean that D2 SPNs may still be important. It’s possible that some drugs level out D1 activity by sticking to D2 receptors.

“It is tricky to shift the role of D2 receptors as being crucial,” Robert McCutcheon, a psychosis researcher at the University of Oxford, England, wrote in an email to WIRED. He suggests testing other approved drugs with no supposed attraction to D1 receptors, like amisulpride.

The field still longs for a better grasp of which neural circuits respond most to antipsychotics. “This is the first step to actually disentangling the exact effects,” says Schmack. “We can develop new antipsychotic drugs that target new points in this way, and might have less side effects than the antipsychotic drugs that we have right now.”

Parker’s current plan is to test what happens when he blocks the D1 receptor just sometimes, with drugs called “partial agonists.” The drugs compensate for high dopamine and low dopamine. It’s a different approach than just blocking dopamine altogether, and Parker hopes his new results bode well for D1 partial agonists in particular. That’s because despite having more dopamine in their striatum, people with schizophrenia actually have lower dopamine levels in their cortex, a feature that neuroscientists think contributes to social withdrawal and forgetfulness. “Such a drug could be both antipsychotic and cognition-promoting,” Parker says. His lab has begun testing candidates.

The Nature Neuroscience study’s results open new inroads to treating psychosis, Parker says. “If we’re not constrained by this idea that they always need to bind this receptor or do this one thing to this type of neuron, we can begin to think about what might be possible in other ways.”