#also love how I have to force myself to eat to stay somewhat healthy because god knows if I gave into my impulses I would eat like once/day

[m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e]

Daily affirmations: I love regularly not having any appetite and not being able to sleep well no matter what I do and it does not hinder my quality of life at all 👍

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 24: comfort food

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

TW: This is fluff, but I think it might lean more into a hurt/comfort trope. Also, it's hinted that the reader is dealing with depression, so if you're sensitive to the topic, you might want to skip this day!!

Hugs to all the people who are going through a tough time. I suffer from this disorder myself and I know it's complicated, but things can always get better. It's a great day for you to live and I love you

Spencer was in the kitchen, silent. He couldn’t help but notice that you had been feeling quite down in the past few days. Although he had his suspicions, he hadn’t dared to ask you directly. The clearest sign was your constant desire to stay in your room, only coming out for strictly necessary reasons. It wasn’t that he was the type to notice those things, but he picked up on even the subtlest details. You hadn’t showered, or at least not that he had seen. The accumulation of small signs was what worried him.

What could he do? It would be too intrusive to just knock on your door and ask for an explanation. He had no right to demand something like that from you, and invading your privacy would be a mistake. He knew that forcing a conversation wasn’t the solution, especially with you. However, worry gnawed at him from the inside. He wanted to see you smile again, or at least for you to come out of your shell. He thought and thought about how to approach you without seeming intrusive until an idea struck him: prepare breakfast. It was something that wouldn’t seem intentional or accusatory. Besides, if you didn’t feel like talking, you could simply take the food back to your room.

He knew how much you loved waffles; so much so that after several discussions about how much you spent on boxes of Eggos, you both had decided to invest in a waffle maker. Spencer didn’t consider himself a professional chef, but he could manage the basics. With determination, he got to work.

While he whisked the batter, he didn’t realize you had come into the kitchen until he turned around and saw you sitting at the dining table.

“Hi!” he exclaimed, somewhat surprised to see you there.

“Are you making waffles?” you asked, trying to look over his shoulder. “I could recognize that smell anywhere.”

As he observed you, Spencer noticed the traces of crying on your face. He said nothing; instead, he approached with a plate and gently set it in front of you.

“You’ll have the privilege of eating first. Just because you came over,” he said with a warm smile.

You made a small grimace; it wasn’t quite a full smile, but it expressed gratitude. You knew he wasn’t an idiot and had noticed your absence. Still, you felt at peace that he hadn’t pressured you to talk. On the plate, besides two freshly made waffles, there were blueberries scattered on top. Spencer also offered you jam, hazelnut spread, and honey so you could enjoy your breakfast however you wanted.

“Did you make coffee?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something light.

“Hot oat milk,” he corrected you. With the same care, he placed a cup in front of you. “Did you know that drinking oat milk in the mornings is beneficial? It provides sustained energy, improves digestion thanks to its fiber, helps regulate blood sugar levels, and reduces bad cholesterol, so to speak. Plus, it’s rich in essential nutrients like B vitamins, iron, and magnesium, which support good overall health.”

“But it smells like coffee,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’ll drink coffee; you’ll have hot oat milk”

You sighed, slightly offended by the distinction. When you asked why, he simply said he wanted you to stay healthy. Although he didn’t say it explicitly, his eyes said it all: he was worried about you. Despite that, you didn’t want to talk about what was going on. You knew he would understand everything you were going through, but you were exhausted—too tired to express how you felt.

The first bite of the waffle tasted heavenly; it was the first thing you enjoyed in days. “Do you have something for today?” he asked cautiously, trying to initiate a conversation. You shook your head. “If you’re up for it, maybe we can go out somewhere. Anywhere you want,” he suggested, hoping that would cheer you up.

“You don’t like being around people,” you replied softly, looking at him with a hint of irony.

“We can go to a place where there’s no one. Or we can just go to a park... I don’t know, wherever you feel like.”

“Spencer,” you interrupted him suddenly. From the tone of your voice, he thought he might have done something wrong. “I really appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but honestly, I don’t have the energy to go anywhere. And please, don’t pity me. I know it sounds strange, but I just want you to keep seeing me as your friend, okay? I’m not what I’m going through; it’s just... a setback,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “I came here because I want to be with you. Being here distracts me from everything else. So please, I beg you to treat me like you always have. I’m still me.”

“I didn’t imply otherwise,” he said softly. “I just thought we could do something to lift your spirits.”

“This... you making my favorite food and having breakfast with me is what makes me feel better,” you confessed with a sincerity he appreciated.

Spencer was touched by your words and nodded gently.

“Do you want to talk about something?” he offered with the same patience as always.

“Not right now. Maybe later.”

“Do you want more waffles?”

“One, please.”

“Do you need a hug?”

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you leaned slightly toward him, and Spencer understood the message immediately. You knew you could trust him; he would never judge you. So why was it so hard for you to speak? Why did the words get stuck in your throat?

You wanted to cry, but it was as if all your tears had run dry. Instead, you clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body and the thudding of his heart. You just stayed there, leaning against him, letting his comforting scent and closeness soothe you.

“Thank you for being such a good friend. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you,” you murmured, trying not to sound broken.

“Psh, don’t say that,” he gently scolded you. He still had you in his arms. “Whenever you need me, I’m just a hallway away.”

For the first time in days, you laughed. That’s what you liked about him: the trust he gave you, even though he considered himself insecure. The bond between you had strengthened thanks to sharing so many everyday things.

“The waffles... they’re so good. What did you put in them?” you asked suddenly, pulling away from him and wiping your cheeks out of habit, even though you hadn’t shed a single tear.

“I used the classic recipe, but I added extra banana and nuts to give them a different texture.”

“I hate bananas!” you exclaimed, with a spark of enthusiasm in your voice. “How do they taste so good here?”

“You see, it all comes down to a chemical matter in the properties of food when they combine...” he began to explain, launching into one of his usual dissertations about things you didn’t quite understand.

But you stayed listening attentively because the sound of his voice was more comforting than anything else that crossed your mind. Sometimes, having a roommate like Spencer was all you needed to make those tough moments more bearable.

[pearlsofthec]

hi girl i really need to vent to someone about this… im currently in my first year of college and i’m taking a bachelor that i really love and feel like it’s meant for me. but nevertheless i struggle to bring myself to study - im a very lazy person and i feel like i do my best only under pressure. but that gives me so much stress and its not healthy to my body. i know that laziness is my weak point but sometimes i feel guilty about not studying because “im not feeling it” and i always have to rush myself.

whats your experience with uni? do you have any advice for me? thank you feel free not to respond if you dont feel like it ❤️❤️❤️

Hii I'm glad you sent me this message because I honestly go through the same procrastination rabbit hole during exams seasons, and even though I don't know if I can offer you a solution, I can at least say I totally understand where you're coming from!

I'm not exactly cured from this, but a few things have helped me work through it, and I'm gonna share them with the hopes they could help you too! SO, first of all, although it may sound completely unrelated, changing my diet actually increased my focus so so much. Last year, my diet consisted mainly of carbs, bad, easy to get carbs, which not only end up making you look unhealthy, but also feel sluggish. I knew how eating would always make me feel sleepy, so I would just postergate having any as much as I could, drink a lot of caffeine, eat a completely unbalanced dinner and sleep almost immediately. In theory that sounds somewhat practical, but when I tell you I could not focus or be productive at all while doing this crazy routine I mean it. Staying consistent in your work also means staying consistent in other parts of your life, so I definitely would recommend working out your health routine in coordination of your study routine! I wrote about the food situation, but that alone would have made a fraction of the difference I've felt having solved both that problem and organizing a consistent physical activity schedule (I do 1h of pilates/ yoga 4-6 times a week!).

I also had to get in my head that there will never be a perfect time to study. I'll never feel like studying, I'll never be in the mood to read a book about the conservation of architecture or do three hours worth of physics exercises, so I stimulate myself with the thought that though there is no perfect moment, this could be the as perfect as it gets moment, and just force myself to do it. I think more than anything, it's important not to fall into the trap of only working when you feel motivated, and create a work routine that's tied to your habits. There's this portuguese saying my mom always tells me "The "perfect" is the "good"'s enemy", and though it may sound crazy, it kind of makes sense... sometimes you procrastinate so much trying to achieve perfection, that you forget that a good result, is far more valuable than a well intentioned unfinished one.

There are probably more things, but I think I've already bored you enough! I'm sure you're gonna get there, let me know <3

XX

[salemwritesxx]

𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼. | 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 2

𝔹 𝕒 𝕜 𝕦 𝕘 𝕠 𝕦  𝕂 𝕒 𝕥 𝕤 𝕦 𝕜 𝕚

     ⇴ male reader [24, pro-hero, alpha, quirk: ice-phoenix]      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↣ rating: mature ↣ warnings: abo universe

part 1.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“… his quirk activated about two months ago. You have no fucking idea how excited he was when he found out it was related to your quirk.”, Katsuki giggled at the end.

He had been talking about Hiroto for almost an hour now and there were still so many things left unsaid. Bakugou wanted you to know everything. All you had missed those past years. However, when he suddenly heard a little sniffle, it broke his heart just further.

“I’m sorry…”, was all he could say in a hushed voice in that moment.

Though you just shook your head and hugged him, head buried in his chest.

“It’s okay… tell me more. Please.”, you mumbled back, trying to keep your tears at bay. But listening to everything you had missed was… painful, to say the least.

Wrapping his own arms around you, the Omega hugged you tightly against his smaller body. Bakugou wanted you to know he wasn’t going to vanish again. And even though it was hard for him to keep on talking, because he could vividly feel your inner Alpha’s turmoil, he just had to do it.

So, he kept talking about what you had missed the past three years.

--

“Hiroto will be home soon. How about we take a shower and let some fresh air into the apartment?”, Katsuki said eventually and you nodded.

“Sounds good.”

“I hope he’s okay though… It was pretty stressful for him meeting you and having to let go again…”

“Hey…”, you took his hand and squeezed it, “Hiro won’t have to let go again. Everything will turn out okay. Don’t worry.”, you kissed his forehead and therefore earned his soft smile.

“You’re right.”

-

You just put on your clothes again when the bell rang, just in time. Following Bakugou into the little hallway and to the front door, your heart was beating way too fast. Why were you nervous now? You had met Hiroto yesterday. It’s not something to be nervous about. But you couldn’t help it.

Once he opened the door, Hiroto came in, his plushy Popo hugged against his chest again. He didn’t look too happy and Katsuki’s friend also just shrugged helplessly. However, it only took a few seconds before the little one realized the different scent and looked up, seeing you standing there a few meters away.

“Oh…”, was the only thing that escaped his mouth before tears welled up in his eyes and then a sob followed soon after.

Hence why you instantly kneeled down and reached out your arms, which Hiroto gladly accepted as he rushed to your side. He even let go of Popo just so he could cling onto your t-shirt, the little phoenix plush falling onto the floor.

Hearing your son’s sobs truly ripped your heart in two, but you know it was because he missed you. Even though he had only seen you on TV, you were his Daddy and he had waited for so long.

Katsuki just thanked his friend, his only fiend, really, for taking care of Hiro last night and even when he asked if he wanted a cup of coffee, Aki just shook his head and grinned. Gesturing with his head towards you and Hiroto, he simply said, “Maybe next time, Bakugou.”

And then walked away, which Bakugou was quite thankful for. There were still so many things he needed to do, now that you were here.

“Hiroto, are you happy?”, Katsuki asked his son after he picked up Popo from the ground.

Hiro, who was snuggling into your arms, crying and sniffling, just nodded. Though, when realization sank in, he suddenly sat back up to look at you.

“You… you won’t… go again… Daddy… wright?”, those [eye.color] eyes were filled with so much fear and sadness as he anticipated your answer.

And with a small smile, you looked to Bakugou who then also stepped closer to wrap his arm around your waist. Your own around his shoulder, the other holding Hiroto securely.

“No… I will stay, Hiro. Daddy will stay.”

With that, your son was crying once again, but this time, only because he was so happy.

-

Since you and Bakugou had slept in quite a bit and Akitoshi had brought Hiroto over just before lunch, Katsuki made something very quick, but healthy for the little boy. You on the other hand were out buying something from the convenience store for Katsuki and you.

It was a little weird. Like… having a family. Every time you had to think back to yesterday. Whenever you caught a glimpse of the time, you couldn’t help but think, “Just yesterday I was clueless and so … hurt and now…?”

But the moment you came home to Bakugou’s apartment and you heard Hiroto’s excited call, it all felt so weirdly… familiar. Intimate. As if you had done all of that all along and you were never apart.

“Ah, [Your.name]? Can you put Hiro down for his nap?”, Bakugou asked you and took the small bag from the convenience store.

“I’ll reheat these in the meantime.”

“But Pappaaaaa! I am not tiwred at all!”, he whined and then reached out to you with his little hands.

“I want to keep on… pwaying with Daddy…”

You were melting. So cute. Though, with a wet wipe, you gently wiped away all the food that was stuck around his little mouth and cheeks and hands and said, “I know Hiro. Daddy wants to keep playing with you, too, but even the strongest little heroes need to take a nap sometimes.”

“Even Daddy?”, with wide [eye.color] eyes he looked at you, making you giggle a little.

“Even Daddy.”

Meanwhile, Bakugou just stood there, his heart melting and so close to crying. No, he wasn’t usually this emotional and he was quite embarrassed when he turned back to quickly wipe them away, but… He was stupid; so, so stupid. And he regretted what happened three years ago even more now – if that was even possible. Katsuki wholeheartedly thought he didn’t deserve another chance from you. He hurt you so much and yet, you were ready to forgive him. He didn’t deserve that at all.

You sensed Bakugou’s sadness and distress. Your inner Alpha was pacing up and down frantically, hence why, when you picked Hiroto up, you walked over to the counter where he was standing.

“Katsuki?”, your Alpha circled his inner Omega before cuddling into it and just like that, he was a little more at ease.

“I love you.”, you whispered and kissed his forehead.

Katsuki instantly reaching out and putting his hand over yours that was holding Hiroto.

“I love you, too.”, then he looked at Hiroto and softly pinched his chubby cheek to make him giggle.

“Goodnight, Hiro.”

“Goodnight, Pappa.”, the little one waved when you carried him away into his room.

Taking a deep breath, Katsuki wiped over his face once more to calm down again. There were many things you still had to talk about. And he was a little scared when he thought about it, but at the same time, he wanted to know – no – he needed to know. What’s going to happen next?

After a few minutes, you came back into the kitchen. Bakugou ready with his two plates and reheated food.

“Let’s eat.”

“Yes.”

And then it was silent once you sat down at the kitchen table.

Another few minutes passed, no one talked. You both knew the next topic was hard to talk about. Neither wanted to be the first to ask what was going to happen next, but eventually, Bakugou was the one to jump into the cold water.

“So…”, he poked his food more than anything, “[Your.name]… What’s going to happen next?”

The question weighed down your heart. What WAS going to happen next? But then, your eyes caught a glimpse of his engagement ring. So, you reached out your hand to touch his, your thumb brushing over the ring.

“I wonder, if everything’s going too fast? Maybe we should do it slowly, but also…”

“Everything feels like we’ve never separated. It feels familiar.”, he said, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together.

“Yeah…. I feel so, too.”, you smiled and squeezed his hand.

“I… I want to say something very selfish, but… I think I’ve been selfish enough the past years.”, he then said in a hushed voice, not even sure if he wanted you to hear.

But you heard him clearly.

“It’s okay.”, that smile of yours was seriously the death of him soon.

Pushing his plate away, he placed his other hand on top of his own. Ruby eyes closed for a moment, before he looked up, gulping one last time before he said, “I want to marry you. I want to continue where we left off three years ago, I… want to be a family. I want you to be Hiroto’s father and I want to be your husband. But I know that’s so much and I… I understand if you can't do that-“

“No.”, you interrupted him.

“No, I want it too.”

“[Your.name]…”

Reaching out your hand as well, you held both of his and smiled at him.

“We’ve been going through so much and even though there is this three year gap, I... want to continue where we left off, too. I want you to marry me and I want to be Hiro’s father. I want to be with you. Yesterday I was struggling to find a reason to stand up in the morning. But- that’s the past. I’ve been hung up on the past for these past years and I’ve had enough. You’re here now. And that’s what matters to me. And if you really feel so too, then, I want to continue where we left off three years ago, too.”

That’s when he broke down again, tears slowly running over his cheeks, before he stood up abruptly. The chair flew back and not even one second later, Bakugou had circled the table and hugged you.

“Oh- Haha I don’t remember you being so emotional.”, you chuckled, but hugged him tightly nonetheless.

His own cried and also somewhat laughed “Shut up.” truly brought you back to your teenage days.

“I don’t deserve you. I hurt you so fucking much, I’ve been so selfish and yet… You still want me. How?”

“Katsuki…”, grabbing his thighs you pulled him onto your lap once you’ve pushed back from the table a bit.

“Listen. You’re my everything.”, cupping his face, you ‘forced’ him to look at you, “And God knows I am a dumb idiot hopelessly in love with you. Yes, you hurt me. Yes, it was hard and yes, sometimes I hated you or at least I told myself I would, but… it’s over now.”

Reaching out to his bonding mark from yesterday, it sent a jolt right through him when you just barely touched it.

“You’re my mate. And I won’t ever let you go again. I love you. I’ve always loved you and I will always love you. That’s just how it is. And that won’t changes. I’m ready for a new beginning. With you and Hiroto.”

Bakugou was just speechless. All he could do was sniffle and shake his head. He didn’t deserve you.

“I promise I won’t hurt you again.”, was all he could whisper while he hugged you.

And that was all you needed to hear.

-

In the afternoon, you, Katsuki and Hiroto walked to the small inn you had stayed at so you would check out in time and not cause any trouble. However, as your son watched you come out with a suitcase, his little eyes got all sad again. Hence why you kneeled down and gently ruffled his spiky hair he surely had from his Pappa.

“Hey, it’s okay, Hiro. Daddy won’t go.”

“Wreally…?”, his tiny hand grabbed your big one as tightly as he could.

“Really.”, you smiled at him before standing back up.

“I talked with my agency and told them I’ll extend my leave for a few weeks.”, you were now talking to Bakugou.

“I’ve worked days and nights for so long. It’s time to take a small time out.”, wrapping your arm around his waist, the other was still holding Hiro’s hand.

“I’m glad.”, kissing your cheek, he nuzzled his head against yours for a moment.

“Aren’t you happy Daddy’s coming home with us?”, he then reached out and took Hiro’s other hand.

“YEESSHHH!”, the little one cheered, grinning from ear to ear when you walked away from the inn.

It wasn’t long, however, until you walked by the park he and Hiroto visited frequently. Thus, the little “Oh, Pappa!” came fairly quickly.

“Hiro, we need to go home first.”

“But Paaaappaaa!”, the little one whined before looking up, “Daddy can I go park and pwlay?”

It was hard resisting him, truly hard. So you looked at Pappa.

“Maybe just a little?”

And as Katsuki looked at you and his son, he couldn’t help but sigh, but also smile a little.

“Fine, but only a little, okay, Hiro?”

“Yessshh!”

Just like that, the little family walked over and while you and Bakugou sat down on one of the benches, Hiroto was playing in the grass and sand.

Leaning against you, your arm was slung around him, and Katsuki’s head was resting on your shoulder. It was pretty quiet as you both just watched Hiro play for a little while. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. You just relished this moment between you both. The inner Alpha and Omega were purring and happy.

However, after a few minutes, Bakugou looked down and saw your suitcase which got him thinking.

“[Your.name]?”

“Hm?”

“What are we gonna do about the living situation?”, he asked and sat up to look at you properly.

“To be honest… I have thought of something. You know I… have a house.”

Blinking twice, Katsuki didn’t understand for a second.

“You mean… really?”

“Yeah. I told you I worked day and night to forget… you, you know? And I had so much money that I didn’t know what to do with it. I was just depressed and didn’t know how to spend it, so I went ahead and build a house. It… reminded me of the dreams we had and the plans we wanted for our future.”

That really hit Bakugou critically. Guilt immediately washed over him.

“Which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea because after I moved into the big space I felt even more alone and more depressed…”

It hurts to listen to that, because Bakugou knew it was all his fault. Reaching out his hand, he gently touched your cheek, which immediately made the Alpha in you purr and lean against the soft gesture.

“So… what I wanted to say is, you and Hiroto could move in. It’s in Sashiogi so it’s calm and not the buzzling streets of Tokyo. But commuting to Tokyo for the job is easy and rather quick. Since I felt quite lonely in the big house I did rent a small apartment in Tokyo to get in and out of work quickly. The furniture is not really used and overall the house is pretty empty ‘cuz I didn’t have the willpower to fill it so we need to buy a lot of things and-“, you didn’t know why you couldn’t stop talking. Maybe you were just nervous to find out what Bakugou might think of your plan.

But in the end, he cut you off with a quick kiss and a small smile. Then Katsuki turned to Hiroto who was playing in the grass.

“I’d love to move in.”, slowly, he turned back to look at you again, “And be a family. I do have a little bit of money saved as well so we can buy furniture and other things we need. We can make it cozy and homey so you won’t have to ever feel lonely again.”, the last part he barely whispered as he cuddled closer.

Katsuki’s Omega instantly purring as it rubbed itself against your Alpha for comfort. Which, inevitably, made you smile as you pulled your fiancé closer and kissed him gently.

“I’d love that.”

However, the intimate moment was interrupted by a needy “Daaadddyyy!”, which only made you giggle a little. It was still odd to have that responsibility but it was also a nice feeling.

“I’m coming.”, like that, you let go of your Omega before kneeling down besides your son.

As Bakugou watched you both, he wondered how he had managed to live three years without your support and love. If he wouldn’t have done something so drastic and just vanished, Hiroto could have had you by his side from the beginning, but because he was selfish – though shaking his head slightly, Katsuki interrupted his own thoughts. It was over now. Nothing he could do about it besides regret that decision every day for the rest of his life, but even that wouldn’t help anyone. Right now, all he could do was make it up to you by giving you a family and unconditional love.

-

Ruby eyes fluttered open at the sound of a door closing. The room was barely lit by the moon outside. Though Katsuki’s first reaction was to reach to the other side. You weren’t there, but the side was still warm. Maybe you just went to the bathroom? So, he turned around and tried to fall asleep again.

However, when 15 minutes passed and the clock struck three at last, he sat up. What were you doing? His Omega was a bit antsy, hence why eventually, Katsuki stood up and walked out of his small bedroom and into the hallway. Since his apartment wasn’t the biggest, he easily found you sitting at the table in the kitchen after a few seconds.

You just stared out the window. He wondered what you were thinking…

Walking up to you, he knew you had recognized him due to his scent already, he gently put his hand on your shoulder. Instantly, you reached out and touched his as well. A silent, sweet gesture as you both stood there for a few moments.

Before Bakugou dared to disrupt the silence.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Mmm…”

Then it was quiet yet again for a few moments until-

“You know. It’s so… odd. Every time I try to wrap my head around what happened I am even more confused. Just a few days ago I had no idea Hiroto even existed, it’s just…”, you didn’t know how to continue and just shook your head.

“[Your.name]… If this is going too fast, I can completely understand, we can wait and do it slowly and-“

“No, no, that’s not it, Kat. It’s just…”, then you turned to him and pulled him closer and onto your lap.

“Is this really… real? Am I not just dreaming? I still can’t believe all of this is happening. I’m scared I’m going to close my eyes and everything turns out to be an illusion or a dream.”

His heart sank into the pit of his stomach hearing that. He knew everything was going so fast and others might frown upon you both doing things so quickly after not hearing anything from each other for three years. But there weren’t any things left unsaid.

You had yelled at each other. You had cried together. You had talked it out. You had bonded with each other. You had forgiven him.

Right now, it felt like you had never been apart. Familiar. Intimate.

Now, the only thing you both could do was wait for time to heal the scars he had left in your heart and soul.

… Well, there was one more thing Katsuki could do to make sure you would realize this was real.

“You ain’t dreaming.”, cupping your cheek, he pushed you back against the chair, his lips brushing against your own, “I’ll make sure you know this is very real.”

Like that, he connected your lips. A heated kiss ignited. Mouths tangled and arms slung around your neck. The Omega purred and the Alpha growled as you embraced each other.

This was not a dream.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: why do I feel like it would be funny to write a bonus part where the friends react to them being back together and finding out the real reason aka hiroto askdjhaf well idk if I’ll do that to myself lmao

[nobodyfamousposts]

A Different Purrspective (Original Work)

“Human. There you are.”

Oh. It again. Or is it a her now, given the body it’s in?

To be honest, I hadn’t really cared much at the time about its sex—or if it even had one. I was a little too busy panicking over this thing that just one day up and decided to come after me because...

Actually, I never did get a clear understanding of its motivations. I was a bit too busy trying to protect myself from the FREAKING DEMON!

In my defense, I hadn’t known demons existed until that moment.

In its defense...

Well, it had none.

“I’ve been looking for you for a while now.”

Sigh.

I forced myself away from my cozy nap time to look over at the one disrupting me.

It was...pretty, I suppose. Full cheeks. Long eyelashes. Hair was messy. Its clothing was disheveled. But otherwise it looked good. Something in me felt that a demon shouldn’t be so pretty.

I wasn’t bitter though.

Even if the body it was in used to be mine.

You know those horror movies with the main leads that have to deal with spirits and possession and body snatchers? Yeah. That was me then.

As to be expected in a horror movie, I lost the fight and the...whatever that thing was took my body. And trapped me in its former vessel.

So the orange tabby cat being spoken to on the front porch of a suburban street? Yeah. That’s me now.

The jerk couldn’t even get me in a female cat body.

Though given what I’ve since learned about cats, maybe that was for the best. Ugh.

“Do you have any idea what it took to find you?”

Huh. The weird thing was that it sounded offended. Not sure why it was supposed to be the wounded party here. I was the one whose body was stolen. By IT in the first place.

And then to add insult to injury, it took me to a shelter and left me there. Giving me an evil smirk and laughing all maniacally-like on the way out. Probably figuring I would be euthanized.

It hadn’t expected me to be adopted.

Ms. McGregor. A lovely old woman. She was pretty much the picture of the cat lady. And she took quite good care of me, all things considered. Fresh water. Good cat food. Some treats every so often.

Granted, it was a bit humiliating since I wasn’t supposed to be a cat, but after what had happened, I was willing to take what I could get and live out my days in relative peace and quiet.

...then this asshole had to show up.

“Human, we need to talk.”

Here we go.

“I...acknowledge that some mistakes have been made.”

Oh really?

“And we both have some regrets.”

The one thing I regret about being in a cat’s body right now is that I can’t roll my eyes.

I know it should be possible. I’ve seen the cat videos. But I just...haven’t worked out how to do it myself.

“I...may have been a bit...hasty. In my previous actions.”

You said you’d stalked me for weeks to learn about my life before attacking me and pulling a Freaky Friday. That requires a bit more forethought than you’re giving yourself credit for.

“I was just excited for the chance to experience life as a human.”

Uh huh.

“It was only going to be for a while.”

Ignoring that from what you had gloated at the time, ‘a while’ was going to be however many kitty years I had left. And considering how old this body was when I was forced into it...

“Just...long enough to get the ‘human experience’, you know?”

Guess the ‘experience’ isn’t working out for you, huh?

“But all good things have to end.”

Good for who?

“So I was thinking...” It trailed off, as if expecting me to finish the thought for it.

It waited, watching me long enough for this to get uncomfortable. Then it sighed.

“Perhaps we should switch back?” It asked, trying not to appear too eager.

It was failing. Horribly. But it was trying.

“You can go back to your life and family.” It continued, as if it was trying to sweeten the offer.

It was an offer though. And one I hadn’t expected to get this soon.

Or ever.

But what I expected even less was my own disinterest.

I mean...sure, the entire thing was terrifying when it was happening and I had no idea what was going on. And humiliating to no longer be human afterwards. But it’s been...what. Two months? Three? And so far, things have been pretty good for me.

Yeah, I’ll pass.

“Come on now!” It insisted “Don’t you want to be human again?”

...was it serious?

“You would get to go back to your fulfilling job.”

You mean the 60+ hour work week with no breaks, no paid vacation, and shitty benefits?

“See your family again. Spend time with your siblings and their kids.”

My self-important and egotistical siblings. With their horrible, horrible kids. And their untrained dog.

“And you can return to having a normal life in a healthy human body.”

My most recent labs read some issues. I had gingivitis and a cavity at my last dental exam. And my appointment for operations on those matters both happened to be after my body got snatched.

How did that go, by the way?

It tensed, fists clenching.

“I think I was a bit...unfair. And I would like to rectify that and switch us back.” It bit out. I think its eyes even flashed.

It was the period pain, wasn’t it?

“How do you LIVE with that?!” It shouted, furious and possibly somewhat embarrassed given the red tinge to its face.

Huh. I didn’t know I could turn that color.

“Look, this works out for both of us.” It insisted, gesturing at me. “You can go back to your life and I can go back to not dealing with your life!”

Wow, you make my life sound so grand when you put it that way...

“Really?” It asked, hopefully.

No.

It groaned, running a hand through its hair.

Wow. It doesn’t look washed. Have you not been taking care of my body? That was one of the few things you said I wouldn’t have to worry about after you left me to rot.

“It’s harder than it looked, okay?”

How do you not know how to take care of a human body?

“Hey, even you humans need years of training on how to properly manage yourselves!” It hissed.

Well, sucks to be you, I guess. As a cat, I can just lick myself clean and not have to worry about appearances.

Its nose turned up in disgust.

“How are you okay with this?!”

Well, it sucked when it happened. But you know, we humans are pretty adaptable. Horror movies end after the credits, but odds are that we would just sort of have to get used to it sooner or later.

Did you think I’d just be screaming in horror within my kitty mind forever?

It paused.

“Maybe?”

Wow. That totally makes me want to help you.

“What? No!” It insisted. “I’m trying to help YOU here!”

And how is this helping me?

It...actually seemed to fumble for a moment.

“Aren’t you sick of eating raw meat and cat food? Isn’t it disgusting?”

Eh, it was hard to get used to at first, I’ll admit. But the nice thing about being a cat is that taste isn’t one of the senses high up on the scale of priority. I’ve only got like...a few hundred taste buds now compared to the thousands I had before, so it doesn’t really bother me. I do miss tasting sweet things though. But at least it means I don’t have to worry so much about how bad things taste.

“Aren’t you tired of having to hunt for food? I’ve seen you going after rats and bugs. Clearly you must be starving.”

Nope, the lady here feeds me pretty well. I just take out the mice to help her out.

It wilted. “But...the bugs?”

It’s actually kind of fun to hunt bugs. And they have this nice little crunch to them—

“Okay, okay, okay!” It interrupted quickly.

Was it was because it was grossed out by the conversation or because it secretly liked those things as well?

“Don’t. Just...don’t remind me.”

Huh, how strange for a demon. Honestly, it had been a cat, at least for a little while. It should know these things.

For that matter, it should also know more about humans in general and my life in particular if it had been following me for months.

“Look, let’s just switch back.” It implored. “I’ll stay in kitty form. You can go home and do...whatever with your life.”

I could.

“You can.”

But this is actually the closest thing I’ve had to a vacation in...like...years.

“You can’t be serious.”

YEARS.

“Listen to me you little shit!” It hissed out, its features turning significantly more sinister and...wow. Stop. I don’t think my face is supposed to look like that! “You are going to switch back with me or so help me—”

You’re supposed to be the powerful demon here. You stole my body before. If you really hate it so much, why don’t you just switch us again?

A pause followed. An unsettling long pause.

“I...can’t.” It muttered, unhappily.

Wait.

What?

“I took it by force. Which we can do.” It shrugged. “But no one’s ever just...switched back before! Not without permission.”

Sooo...you need my permission?

“Yes.”

Huh.

Maybe you should have thought of that BEFORE you stole my body, you creep.

“Oh come on!” It shouted. “Please! I can’t take this anymore. Your job is impossible, your family is insufferable, and this body keeps doing...things I don’t like to think about.”

Yeah, it does that.

“What would it take to switch back?” It demanded. “I can’t take it anymore!”

I’m not feeling particularly sympathetic to your needs right now.

“Do you want me to apologize? I’ll apologize!”

Would it be sincere? Or would it just be a manipulation tactic?

It hesitated.

Right. Enough said.

“It could be both!” It insisted.

And we’re done. Excuse me, I think I’ll be going back to my nap now.

“You know,” It said with a dark tone. “I could just kill your family. Then you’d go to prison. How would you like that?”

Hah. Good luck. Before I met you, I was still convinced they were hellspawn themselves.

Not to say that meeting you has actually changed that belief, to be honest. If even you can’t stand them, what does that say?

“I could kill them all and make it look like an accident. So you wouldn’t get in trouble when you returned.” It suggested instead and...wow...was it trying to bribe me now?

Pass.

Knowing them, they’d be worse than any demon. And would take you out before you could do them in.

Nice try, though.

It glared fiercely at me but said nothing further. If I didn’t know better, I would say it was pouting.

Human expressions are one thing I miss. I’d be doing a long sigh right now.

Look.

You’ve lived my life for all of two months and already you can’t hack it. Imagine dealing with that...all of that. For year after year on end. Going to work at a high stress and low reward job. Dealing with people who look down on you regardless of how hard you work. Dealing with family members that either ignore you or act like they’re superior to you. Dealing with their rotten little children that they are incapable of disciplining even as they wreck your belongings for the sheer entertainment of it. Dealing with a body that’s slowly giving out on you regardless of what you do because you have to overwork it just to earn enough to keep it functioning.

And knowing that despite all the hardship, you still have another 30 plus years of that shit to go before you’ll get to enjoy...maybe 10 years of retirement before your body gives out?

Meanwhile, I have maybe another 10 years of kitty relaxation in this life.

Why would I want to give this up?

“Because you aren’t meant to be a cat!” It insisted.

I’m not. But somehow I am.

And whose fault is that?

It was...oh wow. I wasn’t imagining it! It was pouting.

Huh. Apparently it’s a demon that isn’t used to not getting its way.

And arguably, it was a good deal. Most horror movie leads would jump on a deal like this to “right the wrongs” done to them and return to their lives. Anyone would.

But would you look at the time? Gee, buddy. I’d love to help you out, but that sounds like an awful lot of work and there’s a nice patch of sunbeam that’s calling my name.

“Don’t you turn your back on me—”

And you may want to check yourself. People are starting to give you odd looks and you really don’t need folks to recognize you and question why you’re talking to yourself in public.

It glanced around nervously before lowering its voice. “You could try to help, you know!”

Well, I could. But y’know...cat.

It sputtered.

Clearly, it wasn't possible for cats to laugh. Otherwise I would be laughing myself to tears right now.

“I could disrupt this new little life of yours!” It hissed, turning to threats where pleas and bribes had failed. “The only reason you have it so good is because that old hag took pity on you.”

Let’s not forget that if you had your way, I’d have been euthanized by now and this would all be a moot point. So maybe you should be a little more grateful to that ”old hag”.

“So you do care about her.” It smirked. “But she’s old. Frail.”

It hummed, nonchalantly. Then it smirked, knowingly.

“She looks about ready to keel over at any day.”

And what good would it do you if she did? You need me to be willing, apparently, remember? I was already spiteful as hell when I was human. And everyone knows that cats are nothing but spite.

“We can see if you’d still have that attitude after a few months on the streets. After all, there’s always the chance she could have an...accident.”

Not a good idea. You have not seen that woman lug her purse around. I’m pretty sure that lady was a former heavyweight champion. She can carry four bags of cat food at once, she could probably bench press you while she’s at it.

And there’s no way I’d go back to a body after that.

It opened its mouth—my mouth?—into an expression of rage, and looked about ready to scream.

A loud noise cut it off before it could make a sound.

“There you are!”

Glancing over, it was the front door of the house. The screen door had been opened and on the other side stood a short old woman. Her hair was tied back into a bun. Her nose stuck out at a sharp angle, but it framed her wide if somewhat wrinkled face. She wore no glasses, but she was squinting so much that she looked like she could barely see.

That was her. My new “landlord”, so to speak.

“Jennifurr! Dinner’s ready!” 

It took a moment for the thing in my former body to realize she was talking to me. Cat me.

...oh. Did I mention that the Cat Lady had an awesome sense of humor?

Welp, that’s it then. Too bad, so sad. Looks like we’ll have to table this for another day. Maybe next year?

It gave a grunt of annoyance, but backed away. If nothing else, it wasn’t going to cause a scene here. More out of self preservation than anything. But it continued to glare at me, clearly indicating that this was not over.

I ignored it, going straight for the door as McGregor opened it to let me inside.

“There you are, dear! Everything all right?”

Eh, fine.

She placed a bowl with some cut up meat on the kitchen floor for me.

Oo. Chicken!

“Not too many pests, I hope.”

Only the one.

She continued making conversation as she milled about the kitchen. She does that often. Sometimes it even feels like she hears me.

I wasn’t lying. Not entirely, at least.

I miss being human. Parts of it, at least. The internet was great. I miss having hands that can type. And opposable thumbs. I miss my full taste buds. Some other things I can’t be bothered to think of right now.

But getting away from life does kind of help to put things in perspective.

I’ll go back though...eventually. Maybe.

What was that one meme? It seemed most fitting here.

Nope. I don’t wanna adult today.

Today, I will cat.

[trash0receptacle]

Headcannon

Before that however: I’m sorry for not being active lately I’ve been very, stressed, busy, and tired. Since school started back my mood definitely declined a shit ton. With that being said writing is a way of coping for me so this is really just gonna be what I need today. If it helps you then that’s wonderful too.

Tw: Deppresion, Anxiety, and Anorexia

Paring: Lucifer x f/Mc

Also the way I right Luke is supposed to be taken platonically.

(Mc’s Pov)

Life had been shitty lately a lot more shitty than usual. I suppose it started when I heard some of the other succubi talking about me in on the way to class.

“She’s so lucky!”

“I know why does that bitch get to live with the brothers?”

“What do they even see in her?”

Sure I shouldn’t have taken the comments so personally but hell I take everything personally. So thats when my self doubt started forming roots in my mind again.

Before devildom I already had a lot of unresolved trauma and pain but the brothers really helped me. They were there for me when I needed them and made me feel wanted however after Belphie escaped the attic things went downhill for me mentally. The situation caused me a massive relapse and I began my destructive habits again. It went unnoticed for the most part mainly because they didn’t know the full scale of my past. All they knew is that I struggled and was medicated but nothing else. Perhaps Barbatos knew but he never said anything and I don’t believe he truly knew what went on inside my head either.

Now in the present moment I am contemplating what the succubi were saying about me. They’re right, “what did they see in me?” Surely it wasn’t my looks. I’m decently smart but I have no work ethic. The only thing I know I’m good at is being kind yet I’m a bitch half the time. So that’s when it came back to my body. The thing I’ve always hated about myself because I was never skinny enough, tall enough, pretty enough, curvy enough. I was never enough for someone to care about me.

I started skipping meals here and there. I still ate 2 out of three meals but I figured losing weight couldn’t hurt but then before I knew it I was lucky to even eat once a day. I was always good at making myself lose weight but not so drastically that you could tell I starved myself. For the most part I seemed healthy. However since I was going unchecked it kept getting worse. First my curves disappeared, then it was my hips sticking out, after that my cheeks began to sink, and finally my hair began coming out when I brushed it. I knew what I’d done but I couldn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to hurt them and in the past asking for help only got me ridiculed or hurt.

“No one wants to here about your problems mc it makes us sad.”

“You wonder why I don’t like you!”

“You always beg for compliments!”

“Your fat anyway.”

Those words just kept circulating inside my mind and wouldn’t stop. I wanted to get better I really did but it was hard to force myself to eat. However I couldn’t rely on anyone else for fear of hurting them or them hurting me so I stayed silent. That was until my ddd pinged and I received a text from Lucifer.

Lucifer: Please come to my study mc.

Mc: Uh sure... is everything alright?

No response.

This is unlike Lucifer whats wrong? Is he mad at me? I guess I shouldn’t keep him waiting otherwise he will get mad. I got up and walked to his study inside the library. On the way I noticed the house of Lamenation was eerily quiet. There was no noise besides the sound of my feet walking through the hallways. When I arrived at the door to the study I was surprised to not only see Lucifer but everyone else?

Simeon resembled a worried parent, Luke seemed confused and angry, Diavolo was most serious I’d ever seen him, Barbatos stared at me with what I assume was pity, Solomon looked at me like I was a ghost. However the brothers appeared in worst shape. Mammon seemed on the verge of crying, Levi had guilt written over his face, Satan like Luke was angry angry, Amso was for once frowning, and Belphie and Beel looked disappointed. However I couldn’t read Lucifer’s expression but I could tell something was definitely off.

“Uh hey guys... what’s wrong you look like someone died or something?” I tried to laugh off the uneasy mood in the room but it was to no avail.

“Mc if you could sit down we have some things we must discuss with you.” Lucifer spoke solemnly

They had to have figured it out. Of course I knew this would come out eventually but it still felt like a stab to the heart none the less. I sat down not even listening to the others words. All my energy was focused into not breaking down in front of them but I’d stayed “strong” for too long and tears began to silently fall down my face. The talking stopped and I felt them all look at me which just made the tears fall harder. I felt my wall crumbling down as the final straw on the camels back was placed. I just cried for what felt like hours. Once I began to calm down I finally spoke in between sobs and breaths

“I-.... I’m so-...sorry.”

The room became silent once more. No of them knew how to respond to the broken girl infront of them

“I just didn’t want to burden you guys.... you have your own problems and don’t need to put up with mine” “nor would you want to” I mumbled the last part but I didn’t go unheard.

Luke got up and ran over to me enveloping me in a hug. He just stood there hugging me as if he didn’t I would fade away. I just hugged him back feeling slightly better by the angel’s hug.

Simeon was the first to speak

“Mc we aren’t angry at you. I think I speak for everyone when I say we are worried.”

A silent agreement was exchanged throughout the room.

Diavolo spoke next

“While Barbatos wouldn’t divulge all of what he knew for the sake of your privacy he warned me that you needed an intervention.”

I chuckled halfheartedly knowing my hypothesis was indeed correct.

“Well I figured it would come to this eventually.”

*time skip*

“Can I go back to my room now?” I whisper

I wasn’t really asking rather I just said it and got up to leave. The others stayed still likely digesting the information I’d given them. I felt ashamed and exposed. I hated seeing how much my words affected them and I really needed to be alone at the moment. Eventually I made it to my room. Walking in I closed the door and just cried.

(Lucifer’s Pov)

No one bothered to utter a word after Mc left and no one went after her either. Eventually my brothers excused themselves to go where, I’m not sure. I couldn’t tell if it was minutes or hours that passed but Solomon, Simeon, and Luke left saying they should head back to purgatory hall. Which left Barbatos, Diavolo, and I alone in the study. For the first time since I’d known the prince I couldn’t tell what was going through his head. Barbatos eventually composed himself however and turned to me.

“I believe My lord and I should make our way back to the palace..”

I just nodded in agreement as the pair left me alone with my own thoughts. I’d never seen that side of Mc before. Of course I knew somewhat of Mc’s history either from her file or her own account but clearly things had been left out.

I eventually got up and left to go to my room knowing I wouldn’t be able to focus on my work even if I wanted to. On the way there I passed by Mc’s room and noticed the light was on. I debated knocking or leaving her alone when a voice called out.

“If your gonna stand at my door like a creep you might as well come in.”

And so I did.

“Hey Lucifer...”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Foot steps. I can tell who’s in the hallway by how they walk.”

“I see then.”

The room’s atmosphere felt awkward as neither one of us bother or start conversation. So I simply sat down on the floor across from Mc, who had her head in her knees. (The fetal position) Eventually she brought her head up to wipe tears from her eyes and said with a broken laugh.

“I’m sorry you had to seem me like this. I look pathetic right now..”

“Mc why do you say these things about yourself?”

“Why not it’s how I view my self Lucifer. I’ve heard it from your mouth before”

“I’m just a mere human.”

I cringed at the memory knowing she were right of course.

“Mc I-“

“You don’t need to apologize or explain I understand I pissed you off then. It was just an example”

Wanting to change the topic of discussion I asked her a question.

“Why didn’t you come to any of us?”

“Denial...”

“Denial of what?”

“That it got out of control.”

“Is that all?”

“Not exactly...”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

“I- just please don’t get angry...”

I silently nodded my head as a watched Mc loosen up a bit.

“I think it might be my lack of trust towards really anyone.”

Mc started looking into space as she continued.

“I’m terrified of needing people or letting people help me. Part of it is when I have in the past I ended up hurt and alone. So I stopped I started being the one to help others.... then I needed help and I was cast out like a piece of trash. According to them I was selfish for needing affirmation and love. So that was when I decided I didn’t need that again.”

I sat silently contemplating her words.

“I’m truly sorry mc.”

“I would say it’s fine but it’s not. It hurts like hell but that’s life isn’t it? You learn to love and trust then you get your heart stomped out like a burning ember. The people you love leave you or die and you can’t do shit about it.”

“Wait what do you mean by die?”

“You know this sounds awful but you should be thankful Lilith didn’t suffer... sure it hurts that she’s gone but you are able to remember her before then since her “death” was quick. Painless.”

“I’ve had to watch the people who were my Lilith for lack of better terms die and suffer for months or years. I watched their bodies grow weak and feeble. However I was a child then and couldn’t do anything.”

I didn’t know how to respond so we sat in silence until

“Why’d you tell me this Mc?”

“Honestly I don’t know. Likely it’s because my body is physically exhausted and my filter was turned off.”

I noticed the tiredness Mc was trying to hide for the first time.

“You should sleep mc.”

“That’s ironic coming from you Lucifer.”

“I’m being serious mc.”

“What are you going to do? Mak-“

She didn’t get to finish her thought as I picked her up and carried her to my room. I knew she shouldn’t be left alone and I wanted to make sure she would be alright.

We arrived at my room and I deposited her on my bed. I sat in on of the chairs by the fire figuring she’d want the bed.

“Ok but why is your bed more comfortable than mine? Like sis you don’t sleep wtf!”

I just sighed knowing she was probably out of it but she was kinda of adorable when pouty.

Eventually she quieted down and her breathing became slower.

Mc’s POV:

“Mc you need to wake up”

“Five more minutes”

“Mc wake up!”

I felt the covers being ripped off. A dick move really.

“Ahh I’m up I’m up asshole!”

Wait why is Lucifer looking down at me? Why am I in his room? Shit I cussed him out. Well death never seemed that terrible

“Well if you’re awake now you need to come downstairs to eat breakfast. No, you can not object to this either.”

With that he left probably to go make sure the house isn’t on fire. I walked over to his bathroom and splashed water in my face to wake me up and noticed how emaciated I appeared.

Where my cheeks always so pronounced? Or when did my eyes start looking glassy and dark? I brushed it off not wanting to delve deeper into my insecurities. So I made my way to the dinning room. When I got there all conversation stopped and 7 pairs of eyes shot in my direction. I awkwardly made my way to the table and sat down.

I tried eating breakfast but it’s always been something I’ve never been able to stomach. I honestly never feel hungry when I wake up and it’s not like devildom food is exactly tasty. I was about to get up to leave when

“Mc you need to eat more.”

“Lucifer is right mc.”

“Ok...”

I sat back down and tried to eat what was on my plate but couldn’t so I sat there looking at it. I looked over to mammon’s plate and noticed how much food his had compared to mine and figured at least one of them knew it was a process to get me to eat again.

“I really can’t eat anymore otherwise I might be sick.” With no objections I got up and took my plate to the kitchen.

As I was washing it in the sink slowly some of the brothers came in aswell. First Asmo offered to take me shopping but I didn’t feel up to it. Then Satan asked if I wanted to go to the library again I didn’t exactly want people to see me like this so I declined. So levi offered we could play video games or something and I took him up on his offer.

He made sure I ate lunch that day which I honestly forget about sometimes. By the end of the day the other brothers excluding Amso, Satan, and Lucifer were all piled in Levi’s room.

Belphie was passed out in the bathtub of all places. Mammon was trying to impress me with his video game skills and Beel was munching on snacks behind us. It felt normal.

Eventually I got tired of it and decided to have some alone time. I was on my bed watching tik toks. (But fr tho I do have a problem with tik tok) Laughing at some etc when a knock was at my door.

“Come in”

I said this without looking up figuring it was beel looking for snacks or even Satan wanting to come in here and read. When I didn’t hear anything I looked back up from my phone surprised to see Lucifer standing there.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. I just heard laughing and was wondering is you were alright.”

“Oh yeah sorry about that I’m just watching stuff in my phone.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He smirked

Damn not that smirk. Stop blushing Mc you got this. It’s just Lucifer.

“Uh... sure...”

Damn that wasn’t smooth.

End. (Unless I am asked to make a part two)

So I’ve been working on this for a while because I’ve wanted to make something actually decent. I wanted to do a happy ending and remind you guys that you’re amazing. And no matter who you are you’re loved and remember that.

- Caroline



[oumaheroes]

WIP Extract- Breathe

This comes from my fic Reset, which is long and large and something that is most certainly impossible to read in a day.

The fic itself mainly focuses on England and France with FrUK as the relationship, but I enjoyed writing this interaction between Scotland and England and wanted to share. Context wise, England has been shot in the shoulder and has got himself into a bit of a political pickle- Scotland was called in to help dig him out of the very self-inflicted hole.

-----------

Scotland did most of the talking. England was far too tired to argue or to properly conceptualise any next steps that were needed and the only emotion he found distinguishable from bone aching tiredness was deep gratitude. Now that everything was being handled by someone else, and someone else who England trusted to be competent, there was no panic or worry to keep him alert and he was finding it increasingly difficult to stay conscious, let alone remain focused on conversations enough to be able to provide intelligent input.

France was very much the same. He hadn't spoken much more since the motorhome, not even when North had laughed at him for his ridiculously baggy stolen clothes. The location of France's own things was a mystery- perhaps they had been abandoned at the care home or chucked out of the window as they'd driven here- who knew. Technically they were England's clothes anyway, so France wasn't too bothered.

The most France had done was rummage through Scotland's luggage before they set off and triumphantly pull one of Wales’ jumpers out from his suitcase to take for his own.

'If I ever insult the lovely Wales' fashion choices again, please remind me of this moment.'

It was a horribly garish thing, mottled with splashes of bright red and blue. It was entirely the sort of thing Scotland would also eye up and steal. Terrible looking though they may be, Wales' jumpers were, somehow, always the most comfortable and he was frequently annoyed with his siblings for taking them if he left them anywhere for too long, which he often did.

'We all know that as soon as you get back to your own clothes you will conveniently forget this conversation.'

France ignored England in favour of pulling the jumper over his head and giving a long sigh of contentment.

'Go on, hurry up,' Scotland pushed past him to the driver's door, causing him to stumble forwards, 'chuck England something to cover the blood and get in the car already. I'm leaving with or without you in five minutes.'

Although they now had the backing of the embassy to explain any erratic and untoward behaviour concerning the general public, England did look particularly horrific and it probably wouldn't end well if they waltzed in looking as they did. There was a high chance someone would panic and phone an ambulance which was the last thing anyone wanted- hospitals were always risky for their kind and drawing more attention to themselves at the moment wouldn't be wise.

Because of this, England before too long thankfully found himself in a hotel lobby wearing an extremely large green monstrosity he was most certainly not going to give back later.

Someone, probably not Scotland because the place was far too comfortable looking and Scotland was always the most careful (England preferred the word stingy) with money out of all of them, had arranged a hotel for them in Le Mans. It wasn't anywhere too extravagant or fancy but it was a bed each and that was honestly all England wanted right now. It wasn’t even that late in the evening but all he could think about was going to sleep somewhere and being left very much alone.

Sadly, he wasn't given that luxury. As soon as they'd checked in and avoided the suspicious eyes of the hotel staff, Scotland had bullied him into his room and through to the bathroom. He'd requested that the embassy bring additional medical supplies when they arrived for their nations to use and whilst England was pulling off the top most layers of clothing he unpacked them on his bed, picking out what he thought they'd need.

'It's not too bad,' England called out to him from the bathroom, giving up on his top completely and cackhandedly cutting his way free with a pair of medical scissors. In the room next door, he could hear the sound of a shower turning on- France must have jumped straight in, 'it'll be fine with a wash.'

Scotland returned with some bandages and antiseptic solution and placed them down on the counter, 'Sure.'

'Honestly.'

'Okay.'

'There's no point fussing, I can do it myself.'

England made a grab for the antiseptic but Scotland moved it back and away, out of easy reach, 'Christ, would you stop?'

'Just give it here, you go check on France or North.'

'No, England sit.'

There was a wooden chair in the bathroom and Scotland pulled it over and tried to push England into it. Too tired to properly fight him England sat, but reached over to the counter to grab for the gauze.

Scotland slapped his hand away and stood in front of them, blocking him.

'Scotland. Let me-'

'Bollocks to that, look,'

Scotland crouched down in front of him and England bristled immediately at the offense, 'Don't treat me like a child.' He wasn’t dying.

'I'm not, just,' Scotland made an exasperated noise, 'calm the fuck down.'

'I am calm, you are what is currently stressing me out.' England grit his teeth and forced himself to sound level-headed and somewhat close to polite. He really couldn't be arsed to deal with any more grief today and his tolerance for his brothers' particular flavour of annoyance was always low.

'No, hear me out for a minute,' Scotland put a large hand on England's good shoulder and let it rest there, heavy, and England tensed at the contact, 'breathe, for just one bloody second. Even before France came back you weren't feeling great and you've had a shit few days. Just breathe, and stop trying to take control of every damn thing.'

Scotland's eyes looked far too serious and, dare he say, concerned and England tried to shrug him off, 'I'm fine, I only got caught in the shoulder- it's nothing any of us haven't had before. There's no need for all of this,' England gestured with his head to the neat rolls of bandages and the bottle of antiseptic. They were modern luxuries to them; effective and modern medical supplies were only things that were easily to hand in the last century. England had received far worse injuries before, hell, had received far worse injuries from Scotland before- this truly was nothing worthy of any particular extra care or attention.

What he wanted was for Scotland to leave him alone and go and check on North, to make sure he was okay and let England pick at his shoulder how he wanted. Scotland wasn't usually one to provide any form of tender affection or coddling, whilst England had been growing up Scotland's method of child rearing at been a firm, rough bluntness that he now found oddly comforting and expected. This sort of behaviour usually came from Wales, so to see it from Scotland was incredibly unnerving.

'I'm not talking about the shoulder,' Scotland only tightened his hold and England tipped his head back against the wall in frustration, 'I can feel you better now that I'm close and you're putting me on edge.'

There were benefits to being in a political union. The UK was made up of four separate countries, four independent states with long, messy histories that intertwined yes, but were still very separate beings. However, under the United Kingdom they formed one nation, one political entity and that caused a strange blurring of self, sometimes. It gave them all a sort of fuzzy idea as to how the other members of the union were doing- how the English banks were faring, how the Welsh harvest was coming along, how much the tourism in Northern Ireland had swelled and boosted the local economy and how much the fishing industry was suffering in Scotland.

It was handy; it was extremely useful when it came to planning and understanding how to best move forward as one nation of 4 people, and it was also a pain.

It was a pain because England couldn't hide himself as much as he wanted to around his brothers these days, couldn't put on an entirely impenetrable mask of indifference as he would like because if there was something wrong then the other members of the United Kingdom would know about it, regardless of how much he tried to cover it up. He was used to this feeling of intimacy with Wales, who had been bound to him since 1301, but Scotland still felt somewhat new. They hadn't always had a peaceful relationship, their people had often been at very bloody war with each other, and at times it still felt odd for Scotland to read him so well, even after three hundred odd years together. Especially in moments when England wanted to come across differently to how he really felt.

It sometimes felt even stranger for Scotland to act upon England's vulnerability with kindness rather than take advantage, although England knew that he was being unfair to think that. He hadn't always given his eldest brother the opportunity to demonstrate anything other than what England had come to expect and a lot of that he knew in hindsight was self-inflicted.

As for right now...

England forced himself to meet Scotland’s eye, 'I'll be fine. I just need to sleep and eat something and get home.'

'Aye, I know,' Scotland gave his shoulder a brief pat before letting go, standing up to pick up the supplies on the counter, 'but you feel like you're gonna have a heart attack so until then, let someone else do something for a change. You don't have to do it all on your own.'

England closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the tap as Scotland washed his hands. Scotland was calm and healthy, his banks were strong, his people were happy and he felt steady and familiar- an old ancient lullaby and a well-trodden path to home.

Despite what he said, and even though he wouldn't never admit this even to himself, having Scotland nearby felt good and England had to concede that maybe his brother was right. He took a deep breath in and held it for a moment before letting it go, feeling the tension that he hadn't realised was there lift from his shoulders and jaw.

Scotland made a noise of approval and stepped closer, a calloused hand on England's arm to warn him about the incoming stinging sensation, 'everything is being handled. After this I'll go grab us something to eat, drag North in the shower, and you can go to bed.'

Belatedly, England realised that their entire conversation was being held in Brythonic and although a small part of himself was unamused that Scotland could trick and lull him into passivity so easily, he was mostly grateful for it. A shared history, a collective notion of stability, peace and default comfort wasn't something to take for granted. England couldn't quite bring himself to express this in words, but he hoped that his appreciation for it came across well enough by keeping his eyes shut and doing as he was told.

[eldri-sv]

11 - Aizawa

Kaori Shinsou has always been fascinated by people's minds. She is one of the best students in her Criminal Psychology course at U.A. and - being the lucky girl she is - her professor is not only one handsome dude, but is also working on the case of the serial killer Stain - a case that has been going on for years. As she is about to become Professor Aizawa's TA during the next term, a lot of other interesting cases start popping up all over the country... AU, OC x Aizawa

Trigger warnings: nothing really?

(possibly incomplete, if you’d like something added, please let me know)

The city's ours until the fall

(Halsey - New Americana)

Shouta Aizawa did not enjoy having lunch in the cafeteria. The place was loud, there were always a bunch of annoying kids around and people would just randomly approach him and talk to him, when all he wanted was some peace and quiet. But with all his injuries right now, he didn't really have the energy to prepare some lunch at home, before he left in the morning. And the lunch in the cafeteria was insanely good, so that somewhat made up for everything else.

He was sitting on a table with a bunch of other teachers, not because he wanted to, but because there was no table available where he could sit on his own. And sitting with one of his students would just be plain weird.

At the moment Yamada and Kayama were having a heated debate about whether Kombucha tasted good or not and whether it was worth trying for the health benefit. Kayama was absolutely in favour of it and was showing off her home-made Kombucha that she had brought to school. Yamada had never tried it and was convinced it couldn't be healthy AND good.

At the moment Kayama was forcefully trying to get Yamada to try some of her Kombucha. Yamada protested wildly, which was unfortunate for Aizawa, as he was sitting right next to him. He was keeping a close eye on him, just so he could dodge any accidental attacks from Yamada.

"Oh, come on! At least try it! One tiny sip?" Kayama asked. Aizawa gulped down some orange juice. He had to switch to that from coffee. The doctors told him to stay away from alcohol, caffeine, nicotine and anything else for at least two weeks. Which wasn't too bad, because in two weeks they would have the U.A. Sports Festival, which was a big thing within the national police force.

A lot of people from different divisions across the country came to see it and to scout out people for internships later on. Of course anyone who was not in basic training (or really athletic and in some other course like Criminology) would have a rough time trying to intern with the actual police force. A lot of the other people just turned to forensic laboratories, prisons, courts and so on to get their internships done.

Aizawa had done his one-week internship at a prison during his first year. Thankfully he had been able to kick ass during his second year and had started working with the local Naruhata police department. That's where he and his best friend Shirakumo had been spending most of their days away from university. Aizawa smiled a little, as he remembered his friend, but the smile quickly faded.

"What do YOU think, Shouta? Should he try it or not?" Kayama asked, taking him out of his thoughts. Aizawa glanced at Yamada who was shaking his head dramatically while grimacing.

"I don't really care, Nemuri. Why do you need him to drink it so badly?" he replied with a shrug.

"I made it myself and I'm proud of it! Plus, he's never even tried it and keeps saying that it'll taste bad. I just want him to try, before he'll start judging." Kayama said and sighed melodramatically.

"Why don't you try it then, Yamada? It hasn't killed Nemuri so far, it most likely won't kill you." Aizawa suggested, hoping to be left alone. He wasn't going to be so lucky. Yamada was shaking his head violently.

"Nuh uh. She's a toxicologist, dude, she could be telling me anything while trying to poison me. And she'd be getting away with it, too!"

"I can't believe you're accusing me of trying to poison you! Yamada, we've been friends for how long now?"

"Maybe you're just playing the long game, who knows..."

Aizawa sighed. His head had started hurting again and he really couldn't deal with the two of them arguing about petty shit like that right now. He grabbed the bottle out of Kayama's hands, opened it and took a big sip. He gulped it all down, as he put the bottle back down on the table.

It was nasty. It smelled foul and a bit like vinegar. And it tasted just the same, with a slight hint of sweetness. It took everything out of Aizawa not to make a weird face. And all that just because he wanted Yamada to suffer just as much as he did. If he drank the stuff, Yamada would have to, as well.

"How... how is it?" Yamada asked, giving him a worried look, as if Kayama had actually been poisoning it. Aizawa shrugged again.

"It's alright. You should try it, I think you might like it." he replied, knowing full well that Yamada would trust his judgment without questioning. Aizawa seriously didn't know why Yamada would still trust him, but maybe he was just one of those people that simply didn't learn.

Yamada grabbed the bottle, still eyeing it suspiciously, but finally getting over himself and taking a sip of it. It took a while to hit him, but then he quickly put the bottle down and pushed it away from himself.

"This tastes like ass! What the fuck, Shou?" he exclaimed. Aizawa grinned a little. Sure, Yamada was his friend, but it made him kind of happy to see him suffer right now. He was coughing and drinking loads of water to get the taste out of his mouth.

"Yeah, I know. It's really not my thing, Nemuri, and I think that one has been standing for too long. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to get some more orange juice, because that was truly disgusting." Aizawa said, as he got up with the glass in his hand. Kayama was shaking her head.

"You all just don't have taste..." she mumbled and packed away her Kombucha again. Yamada looked disappointed.

"I can't believe you've done me dirty like this, Shou." he said. Aizawa shrugged and gave him a wide grin.

"Again, I have no idea why you still trust me, Zashi. Anyway, I'm off to get something to drink and then I'll probably take a nap before my next lesson, so I'll see you all later." he replied and walked off.

I passed a few tables with students, some of them I knew. There was one table with a group of first years in basic training, their names were Todoroki, Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida and Asui. It was incredibly obvious that Uraraka was crushing hard on Midoriya. How he didn't realize it was completely beyond me.

At another table there was Nishiyama and her entourage. She always had a crowd of people around her and most of them kept changing all the time. Nishiyama was probably the true drama queen of this university. Most people who weren't stuck in high school anymore were not paying much attention to her, thankfully. She was a pain in the ass, but Aizawa had to admit that she usually had very good grades, although that was probably due to her learning all the notes by heart just before the exams.

The last table he passed was literally right beside the place where all the drinks were. Aizawa recognized Kaori Shinsou and her brother. Kaori was picking at her food, as if she wasn't hungry. She probably felt sick due to the painkillers. Aizawa felt a little pang in his heart, seeing her with the bandages around her forehead, knowing that it was his fault, because she was trying to save him.

Her brother looked like he had just seen a ghost and was whispering to her. I could see Kaori raise an eyebrow and give her brother an amused smile.

"What, you mean Pikachu?" she said loudly. Her brother looked around in a panic and then quickly gestured for her to be quiet.

Aizawa who had been watching this exchange was wondering who they were talking about. There was only one person he knew and he would describe as Pikachu and that was Denki Kaminari. He somewhat doubted that Hitoshi Shinsou knew Kaminari. From what he knew they had little in common, except that they were both first years. Well, it wasn't really his business anyway.

He poured himself a glass of orange juice and squinted at it. There seemed to be a few tiny bits in it, probably because someone had been swirling the jug and not letting it settle properly. Shouta Aizawa absolutely hated bits in his orange juice. Or any juice, to be fair. Things he was drinking or eating should be one consistent texture. Anyone who said otherwise was a potential psychopath.

"Well, forget about your crush on coffee boy for a second and let's talk about the plan for this evening. I've had this desire to watch Aristocats all day, are you with me?" he heard Kaori ask. Aizawa stopped squinting at his orange juice and froze. He loved that movie. It was one of his favourite childhood movies. It was his guilty pleasure whenever he felt stressed out or sad or overwhelmed by life and work and everything else. And no one - no one - could ever know about it.

"Yes! Absolutely! We haven't watched that movie in ages!" Hitoshi Shinsou exclaimed. Kaori laughed.

"I know, right? We should just get all wrapped up in blankets, get some nice, fancy ice cream and watch that movie. It's even raining outside, it's the perfect day for that. Plus, you can take your mind off the Sports Festival for once."

"Let's do it."

Shouta Aizawa decided he had been creepy listening in on his students' conversation for long enough. He took his orange juice and made his way back to the table with his colleagues. It looked like he hadn't missed much, since Yamada still seemed to be complaining about the Kombucha. What a fucking nerd.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: Hi! Do you follow some sort of exercise regime? If so, would you mind sharing it? Were you able to stay in shape whilst at university?

Staying fit and living a healthy lifestyle is important to me and I do my best to try and sustain that especially as one gets older. Although compared to how sporty I was during my university days and what I do now is a touchy subject as I fall woefully short. Real world demands of of work and the personal keep sabotaging my good intentions. For me being sporty was less about weight loss and fat gain than about the mental side of being physically fit. The release of oxytocin was natural way to fight any stress or anxiety that we all have to deal with at different times in life. It was about challenging my mind through my body to set goals and have the bloody single mindedness to focus to go beyond them. The benefits were for me developing a mental steeliness and emotional resilience.  

As a girl growing up partly in the Far East I learned martial arts which was a very healthy way to keep fit. I did ‘baby’ judo at 4 years onwards which was really about having fun learning to fall over and getting up again. More seriously I then progressed to jiu-jitsu (Japanese and then later in life Brazilian style) and Kendo (I fell in love with the Samurai heritage living in Japan). I dabbled in other forms of martial arts over the subsequent years but nothing too seriously. In India, as a teen, I started to do yoga. Don’t laugh but yoga (not the Californian bohemian kind from the 60s that’s been mainstreamed into the modern Western bourgeois lifestyle) really gets you fit. You can leave aside the more questionable spiritual side of it and still enjoy the physical and emotional benefits of yoga as I still do.

At boarding school I still carried on with martial arts but also did ski-ing (very Swiss) and cross-country ski-ing (very Norwegian). I did do lacrosse and field hockey naturally - partly because we were forced to - but I ended up breaking a few bloody noses and bruised shins because I was overly competitive and I hated losing. I enjoyed the camaraderie but it wasn’t really my métier. Instead I did a lot of fencing and that required focus, agility, speed, and good bum muscles! Mountaineering and hiking were my outdoor escapes from being suffocated inside school walls.

So by the time I reached university I was already somewhat sporty. At university I primarily did field hockey and also modern pentathlon. Modern pentathlon includes the five disciplines of running, shooting, horse riding, fencing, and swimming. I did all five disciplines separately growing up as a girl. I grew up with horses but I would be the first to say I wasn’t a natural rider. Swimming and running I loved to do in the open countryside. Swimming in the sea, river, or a fjord was heaven because I disliked crowded public swimming pools. Running over semi-long distances was really my bread and butter of staying fit and mentally resilient. I also carried on my martial arts of jiu-jitsu and Kendo. University was the only time I ever really went close to hardcore in the gym but out of duty rather than love.

The Norwegian winter sport of Skiskyting (now called biathlons) was something I did from the time I was almost 11 years old. During my university years I did it less because I could only do it in Norway and not in England where I was studying. Skiskyting is simply cross country skiing and rifle shooting (the rifle you carry on your back as you ski) over 12 km or so. Like most Norwegians, I was born with skis, and so I took to Skiskyting like a duck to water. If my father had taught me fencing (very British army), my Norwegian mother is the one who showed me her Norwegian traditions - she’s always had been a very good skier. I love to ski and in Norway we do lots of ski walking which really gets you fit.

Coming up to the present day I have reduced my activity to fit around other demands on my time especially with work and travel. It’s been a constant juggling act because when you live in a big city and you have a demanding career with long hours (as well as travel) then it becomes more tough to adapt and sustain a healthy routine.

I still dislike gyms. Even to this day I try and avoid them if I can. I can’t stand the overflowing testosterone and the social posing. Overhead music is a huge turn off for me. I prefer the solitude of my own thoughts if I can and not listen to blaring music.  

These days my daily routine always begins with morning yoga - partly because I have to. To avoid muscle cramp as a result of of an old back and knee injury from my past Army days I have to keep supple and flexible as much as I can. Even when I travel and I stay in a hotel I’ll do yoga in my hotel room - I won’t do it in the hotel gym and spa - so I’ll steal/liberate a yoga mat from there and stash it in my hotel room.

I try to do a 5 km run every other day. I love doing this because it helps me to release the oxytocin and this puts me in a good mood for the start of my day. I feel free and unbound when I am running. I get my best ideas to solving problems when I am running. It doesn’t matter if I am traveling as I will get out of the cocoon of the hotel and just go out for a run (as I dislike hitting the tread mill inside the hotel gym). To me, a great way to discover a city is by getting lost in it. At home in Paris, the Bois de Boulogne isn’t far for me to do my run. In the park I’ll do sets of crunches and squats. If I have a breakfast meeting then I’ll switch my run to lunch time or after I finish work I will do a late night run. I’m fortunate that I can shower at work if I need to.

Every other day when I’m not running I will cycle into work which gives me an alternative cardio work out. I supplement this by going swimming twice every week but I do that at a private health club and on a day when I haven’t done my 5 km run.  

I continue to keep up my martial arts by joining martial arts club to do Brazilian jui-jitsu and Kendo. I also keep my fencing up by joining a club. I attend when I can, usually weekly. Both martial arts and fencing are a good way to keep fit and mentally alert.  

Every two weeks I’ll play a game of squash with friends at a sports club as we’re part of an informal squash ladder. It’s a fun way to stay healthy and chill out with friends.

Every calendar year I will do a charity half marathon - there are plenty in France such as breast cancer - often with a friend. I’ll do it because it’s firstly for a good cause and secondly it forces me to have a set goal and and so my running and training regime will reflect that.

Every year I set myself a goal of competing in 2-3 amateur/semi-professional triathlons spread out in the calendar year - usually in the middle of rural France. The best way to train on technique is by joining a regional club/team. I enjoy the friendly camaraderie when we travel for the events together. The great thing about this is the age range from super fit teens to avid competitors into their 50s from different walks of life. It’s very down to earth and there’s no peer pressure other than the goals you set for yourself.

Every year I also set a goal of doing 1-2 biathlons in Norway. Again, I do that by joining a semi-professional club in Norway and I’ll go to compete when it fits around my seasonal calendar. I love this because it allows me the rare treat of just being Norwegian and forgetting everything else of being English or thinking like the French. So I love the Norwegian dry humour and the laid back friendly atmosphere of being back even if the food is barely edible!

Speaking of food, as you well know there’s no point going on any exercise regime if you don’t address the other half of the equation: a healthy diet. The truth is you can cut out more calories from what you eat than you can burn with exercise. Exercise and diet go together hand in glove. For me this is an extra challenge. Contrary to what you might think just because you live in Paris doesn’t mean you dine on gourmand food every day. The days of 2 hour lunches with wine are fading away and giving way to grabbing ‘le sandwich’. In fact, there are worrying culinary habits from American culture which is dictating bad eating habits especially amongst the young. The temptation to buy processed food and use the microwave or grab a takeaway is too much for some. It’s also true many young Parisians simply don’t know how to cook.

Speaking personally I love cooking and one of my weekend rituals is to go to a local farmer’s market and buy fresh vegetables, fruit, and lean meat for the week. Cooking helps me to ‘power down’ from the stress of work. I enjoy the ritual of trying out new recipes and putting on small intimate dinner parties or cooking for loved ones at the weekend. To me it’s a lame excuse to say you can’t whip up a quick healthy meal when you come home after a hard day at work. You can. You can buy ingredients and prepare food ahead of time. Make up a rough menu for the week and plan ahead. There are plenty of recipes to healthy eating for the week.

My biggest challenge when it comes to diet is saying no to good food when I dine out. One of the side effects of my work is that I have to attend quite a few business dinners with corporate clients. So it’s nearly always a well regarded restaurant. It would be rude to say no to the fine food. I enjoy good food - one reason why I like living here in Paris - and if I get the opportunity to dine at a great restaurant then I’m not sticking to a celery stick and mineral water. I do try to be sensible about what I eat when I dine out. I’m not a freak in the sense that I’m counting calories in my head but I do reason to myself that if I gorge on cake here then I better make up for it over there, perhaps a few extra laps of the pool. I love wine - as I also like whisky and other drinks - but I limit the number of glasses by also taking mineral water and herbal tea instead. I smoke cigars on occasion so I adjust my exercise routine accordingly.

I am also sometimes guilty of cheating myself out of a good night’s sleep because of meeting some work related deadline or my body clock is off because of travel jet lag. So I try and make it up some where because rest is so important. The point is to know your body and know your limitations. Above all, be reasonable and be kind to yourself.

There’s an old maxim I learned from my army days. No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy. This is true in life too. So plan your exercise and diet regime with that in mind. How we stay fit and healthy depends largely on our environment so there is a difference between being a university student in a dorm room with a bad case of the munchies and an essay crisis, and being a harassed mother with kids to feed and who want MacDonalds and candy in the suburbs, or a young person taking first steps in a first job on the career ladder and resorting to late night microwave dinners. Social media environment keeps pushing perfect body memes which again is unrealistic so don’t let that be the benchmark of defining success. The key is get real. Set realistic goals and break it down to a level manageable for you.

One can instil good habits that are healthy and sustainable. If I was in your position I would first see a nutritionist to explain and educate you about food groups. He or she would tell you where you can get your nutritional requirements from a wider variety of foods according to your means and availability. You also can get an idea of where you can have your pizza or your cake and not feel guilty about it.

Get a nutrition plan and take it to your gym - I know, I know, I said I hate gyms and I do but you might not. A good gym will have competent personal trainers on hand.  They can draw up an exercise plan based on the nutrition plan and also listening to your expectations that is hopefully based on realistic goals. I’m not suggesting you have a personal trainer on retainer. But you only need one lesson for him/her to draw up a plan for you to follow. The rest will be up to you and how you motivate yourself. You may find the grind of going to the gym of doing cardio one day and actual gym work the next too much. Fine, find other things outside of the gym that you will enjoy and get you comparatively fit and doesn’t bore you. If you find it hard to motivate yourself then do it with a friend.

Once you start to enjoy it and see the benefits of it, it will no longer feel like a turgid routine but just a growing habit towards leading a more healthy lifestyle.

Thanks for your question

[bigskydreaming]

What kind of house/apt do adult successful Scanny have?

I think it would be something smallish and unassuming on the outside, very approachable. Maybe even like, a townhome or a duplex or something like that, depending on what city Scott ultimately settles in with whatever pack he builds up around him there vs whomever stays in Beacon Hills.

I don’t have any specific headcanons for where Scott relocates to, its just very important to me that he does, because like. He deserves to get far, far away from Beacon Hills. There are too many bad memories there. Its where he died. Its where Allison died, Boyd, Erica. Like, all the bad things that linger with Scott came from Beacon Hills and that damn evil attention-seeking tree stump, and all the good things that linger with Scott are one hundred percent the product of his own actions and the relationships he fostered with the people that became important to him. 

There’s nothing in Beacon Hills that gives Scott anything he doesn’t already have by this point, no reason for him to stay other than his mother, who can literally just move as well. But not with Chris Argent. On account of like, well he died too. It was very sad and tragic, I don’t want to talk about it. Tears were shed, its all still really fresh and raw, we should probably just move on. Its what he would want. Probably. Also who cares, ding dong he’s dead and Melissa’s married to some nice doctor who’s never pulled a gun on her son, as well as possessing other qualities that meet somewhat higher standards, I’m sure.

Anyway. We were talking about Scott saying hasta la vista baby to Beacon Hills followed then by a slow motion dramatic walkaway shot before he gets on his motorcycle, adjusts his mirrors, revs the throttle all action movie star-esque, and also sexily -  look, they’re not always automatically the same thing -  and then he drives away forever from that toxic cesspit of a homicidal zipcode where square footage is calculated in terms of dead bodies. Leaving behind all the like, million and one reasons for him to say Bye Beacon Hills, see you never, try not to become a central locus for evil, but also, I don’t care if you do, it is hashtag NotMyResponsibilityAnymore. But also, I mean. It never was. Just FYI.

And then he flips the town off and accelerates off into the sunset while the town eats his dust, and admittedly Scott isn’t really the type to throw around middle fingers even where deserved, but fuck it, I’m projecting onto him and its my headcanon and I say that pile of excrement in real estate form needs to be flipped off and also, like. Its just an aesthetic thing. For the visuals. Its the whole dramatic end scene, roll credits, “I came, I saw and I blew shit up and now I’m off to reunite with my love interest and have vigorous victory sex” vibe. You get it.

So they relocate somewhere, wherever that is. I honestly don’t care, so long as its nice and doesn’t murder them or inflict gratuitous bodily harm every week and the nearest Satanic foliage is at least two statelines away. Preferably with a thriving supernatural community where Scott and his pack can all feel welcome and like they belong, rather than outsiders eternally hiding in plain sight among potential enemies. Like, somewhere where their neighbors are all vampires and Fae and other supernaturals, but only so long as like, the only reason they ever come over is to borrow a cup of sugar. Never to betray them to randomly resurrected enemies or guilt trip them into solving someone else’s centuries old and completely pointless grudgematch of Unnecessary Drama and Also Doom.

And wherever it is, the pack have their own dwellings and much needed privacy. Far enough apart that even supernatural hearing and smell don’t have them all playing Peeping Tom whether they like it or not, every time a couple wants to get frisky, but close enough together that they’re all still together, and know that more pack, more community, is always just a short walk away.

Scott and Danny’s place is some sort of small but cozy townhome or duplex or something like that, as I said. Scott’s always very aware of his presence and reputation and the power he both commands and also is afforded by peoples’ embellished expectations regarding him. So it was really important to Scott, and thus important to Danny, that their home be unpretentious. Inviting and approachable and not ‘above’ anyone else, or trying to be. Somewhere that when you got to their street and checked the address if you’re new in town and looking for an audience with True Alpha Scott McCall, you stop and do a double take and almost have to revise whatever preconceptions you have, or at least put them on hold, because like…this is where the famous True Alpha lives? Its so…ordinary.

But that’s the point after all….because the more he was looked at as standing apart from all others, the more ‘ordinary’ became the only thing Scott’s really ever aspired to be.

So its not poor, by any means. They do well for themselves, the whole pack, like you said, Scott and Danny are successful in this future. They have jobs that afford them both a sense of purpose and fulfillment of longheld interests, as well as the potential for discovering more, rather than getting locked into things that grow stale overtime as they outgrow fantasy careers that seemed more validating when they were kids dreaming of the future.

Also their jobs, whatever they might be, make them at least successful enough that it allows them both a large degree of autonomy. They can pick their own schedules, more or less. They have finances, but none that will be massively disrupted or stress-inducing if Scott has to take time off for a couple weeks to help a neighboring pack relocate somewhere new after they flee from hunters. Something where Scott’s never forced to choose between his job and keeping him and his pack financially afloat, versus someone needing his help and it not immediately apparent how long that might take resolve. The dream is stability and comfort, and enough personal agency for Scott in how and where he gets both of those, that he never feels like he’s letting down either his pack or innocents asking for his help, because the demands of his job or finances make him feel like it has to be one or the other, he can’t possibly do both.

Ideally, that flexible schedule means that when Scott isn’t helping others, something he now does by choice and simply because he wants to and he can, not because he’s made to feel he has to, like its his responsibility and his alone, because certain boundary-blind best friends have decided they want to play Peter Parker but are gonna need Scott to step up and play the actual Spider-Man part and lend his power even when someone else gets to decide for him when its his responsibility. Oopsie, I tripped and fell and my Bitter Resentment and Still Not Over It slipped out. Oh no. How terrible. Much woe.

Ahem. Anyway. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by myself, Scott’s flexible schedule means that when he’s not using it to help others, he has enough left over that he can afford (and justify to himself) using it for himself and his own personal enjoyment and interests, actually prioritize and commit to his own self-care, because a healthy, happy Alpha is a healthy, happy Pack. Someone said that once, probably. Probably not Hobbes. Definitely heard that somewhere though. Trust me, I’m a doctor. 

So with the aid of this newfangled invention produced by cutting edge technology, this quote unquote “Free Time…”  Scott explores other interests. His own. Le gasp, le shocking, le about the fuck time. He explores the novelty of being able to even have hobbies, because depressingly (why am I like this, science side of tumblr), there was once a time when Scott stopped bothering trying to figure out what all he was interested in, because he kinda assumed he’d be long dead before it ever had a chance to matter.

But by the power invested in me by Fuck You, Jeff Davis, in this future, none of that comes to pass. So free time and personal passions for Scott. He has them, in abundance. So like. He gardens, for sure. That’s why I specified a duplex or townhouse instead of an apartment in a complex or building….they live somewhere where they at least have their own garden or yard. Scott designs and implements it personally, something like his own personal Zen garden on a scale commensurate with What He Deserves. He goes outside whenever he’s starting to feel stressed about some obligation or commitment or another, and just….plays. 

That’s what it is to him. He just plants things. Prunes things. Adds fountains or bird feeders or statuary, little personalized touches here and there that make his own personal territory uniquely his and his alone. Gardening in his yard is His Time in His Space, and all the pack know better than to interrupt him when he’s out in his yard working away, unless its an absolute emergency. 

Danny enforces this with an iron fist and an ability to tank your credit score and spread all your most embarrassing pictures internet-wide with just a single keystroke. And Danny is the enforcer Scott doesn’t have to be. People forget that everyone loves Danny….but in no small part due to his usual proximity to Jackson. Next to Jackson, everyone looks like an angel. But Danny, on his own? Can be mean. Will be mean, if you touch or hurt or threaten or even just inconvenience his man, because like, who the fuck do you think you are and also it doesn’t even matter because he just replaced your whole identity online and if you’re nice and apologize and kiss ass without Scott ever having to know What You Almost Did, maybe Danny will have mercy on you and actually let you know what your new identity is, so you can use it to like, make a new life with the details he made up to replace your old personal info that no longer gets you anywhere. 

Danny - that’s Miss Nasty if you mess with his husband - is chaotic neutral with an exception for “this is my list of special people. Touch any of them and my alignment is Chaotic Evil for however long as until I have personally escorted you to your Doom and physically kicked you into a bottomless pit where you will suffer for eternity.” 

But then he smiles and charms everyone into only remembering lol oh yeah, everybody likes Danny, so that once again, everyone forgets that’s at least partially self-preservation because if you don’t love Danny and everyone Danny loves, like, you’re dumb and also screwed. Why are you bad at making good choices. 

Don’t feel bad though. Danny’s very good at making people forget this part, t least until the next time he reminds people of that little piece of trivia. Have you seen him smile? Its like that flashing bulb thing Will Smith uses in Men in Black to make people forget what they just saw or were doing. Except without any supervision and/or morality because fuck your ethics, its Danny’s bewitching smile, he’ll use it however he wants. Get your own.

(The thing is, any best friend of Jackson has to have at least a little capacity for Evil. Danny just hides it well, thanks to the cloaking camouflage of Actually Having a Soul in Addition, and like, being a people person who actually understands how people work and how not to alienate them by being a total uncaring jackass 24/7. Its a fine line, except its really not, and Danny is very talented at all things and possesses an abundance of charm. Plus he’s just hot, and like. Let’s face it. That always helps. I mean, definitely never hurts).

The end result of all this tangent-having, is that Scott has enough him time and enough of a barrier from people constantly distracting him, that the exterior of Scott and Danny’s place, for all its otherwise ordinary appearance, Scott has over time turned into his own personal slice of paradise, and is exactly what that looks like to him. 

See, the thing about Scott is no matter how hard he tries to be ordinary and value being just like everyone else and get lost in the crowd…..he never will quite manage it, because Scott just isn’t like anyone else. He’s good, in a way that too few people even aspire to be, because so many people just think its not possible. Especially not after having lived through the kinds of traumas Scott has, been dealt an especially unlucky hand. But Scott manages it anyway, in spite of everything, spiting every thing that tries to make him be anything lesser….and because of that, he’ll always stand at least a little apart from the crowd, be a little distinct from the rest, impossible to ever fully be lost or muted by any crowd of any size.

And the little slice of the world Scott makes just his and Danny’s, no one else’s. He doesn’t even need to share it with his pack without it being any less inviting to his pack for all that. It reflects this understated aspect of Scott, this impossible to quantify essence of him that he himself is too unassuming to ever fully realize is there, and everyone else just accepts without questioning…because they’ve learned by now when you’re given a gift, just accept it and appreciate it.

So in structure and layout, their home is nothing special, but amidst a neighborhood of similar structures, it pops all the same. It draws the eye without dominating your vision. It makes you want to look at it, want to come closer, want to be around it, much like the man who designed it. Who made it, cares for it, and never neglects it or takes it for granted. Its always green, year round, and filled with a variety of flowers that come from all over the world but can all complement each other and coexist without endangering any of the neighboring plants. None of them overgrowing the garden or in any way being at any of the other plants’ expense. 

They’re like Scott’s pack in that way….of all shapes and sizes, coming from all around the world, of all kinds of types, not even just limited to werewolves. All beautiful, all unique, all existing in harmony. Even though Scott’s never shared this with anyone else, in his mind, each flower or plant he adds to his garden represents one specific member of his pack. Its Theirs, its what he associates with them. In this way, they’re all represented, it reminds him whatever conflict arises internally, its nothing they can’t ultimately all work out without compromising any single individual. And with each plant needing its own special attention and time devoted to cultivating it and caring for it, they serve as proxies for the pack members they represent.  

Due to this, Scott can tell himself with just a glance at his garden - reassure himself, whenever his self-doubts get the better of him and he starts to beat himself up for not being there enough for someone or neglecting someone or not doing better - but with his garden, just going outside and checking it over can remind Scott that he’s not neglecting anyone. Because every time he tends to the plant that represents a pack member, Scott reflects on that pack member as he does so. Just going over what they’ve been up to, mentally checking in on them, casting about to see if he’s noticed any sign something’s been bothering them, making sure to spend one on one time with them. 

He can’t tend to a plant without associating it with their linked pack member….and in this way, as long as he can look around and take in with a glance the sight of his garden, all carefully tended to, no plant neglected, all watered and pruned and harmonious and appreciated….and it serves as a visual reminder with which to reassure himself….he’s not forgetting anyone, overlooking anyone. Nobody’s being neglected, he’s always thinking about his pack and keeping their best interests at heart and if any problems do pop to mind while he’s tending to one of his plants or flowers, of course that would be the first thing he’d make a plan to go check in on and address personally, once he’s making his rounds later and having a little face time and conversation with his various packmates.

Of all the flowers and various plant types in his garden, there’s only one fruit….a single eye catching and lovingly attended orange tree. That’s Danny. They’re his favorite, and orange is his favorite color. There’s just something unique about it. Especially in the midst of so much green.

The flowers nearest the front door and around the external structures of the building, a pillar underneath the small, roofed-in entrance way, perhaps, a gate at the front of the property, next to the driveway, maybe a trellis along the wall just next to the door…..the flowers adorning and framing the entrance to their home are a carefully arranged spray of seven different hues. 

A literal rainbow, advertising this House and All Who Live Here Be Gaaaaaaay.

Scott’s always had a sly, understated sense of humor. Mischievous, but not usually at anyone’s expense, and subtle enough that most people don’t tend to credit him with having much of a sense of humor. He does though….he’s just never needed words to express it.

Advertising himself and his personal pride with a literal year round rainbow that’s still subtle enough that most people don’t clue into its layered meaning or implications without being told. Later in life, stable and safe and more centered, Scott gets a pretty big kick out of how often people fail to see what’s right in front of them. Him living his best life on his own terms and not even being shy about it….and if other people can’t connect the dots on their own….its a pity, Scott muses with a mostly internalized laugh, that most people are just in too big a hurry or too eager to take things at face value to truly see what their surroundings look like and are full of.

Danny gets the joke, and thinks its hilarious how few other people figure it out. But that’s mostly just because Danny can be kind of a dick. He’s sorry not sorry. Its not his fault people are dumb. RIP to 90% of humanity, but he has braincells.

He and Scott complement each other well.

Similarly, just as Scott’s personal space is outdoors, natural, and helps him feel part of the world, feel part of nature, connected to it and in harmony with the natural order of things and not something completely separate….Danny’s personal space is indoors, the extra room converted entirely into his personal office or Batcave. Filled with monitors and screens and hard drives, a Hacker’s Paradise that keeps Danny plugged into the grid, manmade tools and his own cultivated expertise giving him the world at his fingertips. Any needed information or a satellite view of something happening with allies on the other side of the world is just a few clicks of a mouse away.

He’s also got every video game console known to man, because Danny’s Me Time is kicking ass on whatever game the latest redditor or twitterbaiting bigot to catch his ire is high-ranking on. 

And if he also happens to use his gameplay as an opportunity to backdoor into said Wankstain’s systems and do whatever needs doing to make his life and those of all his enabling social circle’s a living hell and a lesson in empathy that comes too late cuz nobody has any for them because they suck and are Satan….

Well. Sucks to be them, and also, what kind of moron makes enemies while online gaming without first erecting even a nominal defense against Superior Intellects who might feel like retaliating against his jokes, that aren’t really jokes so much as the synaptic misfiring of racist braincells and proof that sometimes, evolution shits out a turd?

“That sounds like victim blaming,” Scott notes in an absent kind of tone when watching over his husband’s shoulder one day. Not really judgmental so much as just something to say.

“You say victim blaming, I say pest control,” Danny hums unapologetically. “Sides, can’t be victim blamed if you’re not a victim, and you can’t be a victim if you’re really just a human-shaped mistake who has no redeeming qualities, an online presence that’s the virtual equivalent of bad BO with no medical cause for an excuse, and a social media history that makes a strong case for your best possible contribution to society being a qualifier for a Darwin Award. Would you blame a cockroach for getting itself stepped on by stepping out into the light? I mean, you could, I guess. Just doesn’t seem terribly productive if you ask me.”

“Why do you hate cockroaches? They’re living creatures who never did anything to you, why would hurt them by comparing one to this guy?” Scott asks, because that’s really the more important part of the conversation.

“Dunno,” Danny shrugs. “I’m sure I could find some way to blame it on childhood trauma if you really need an answer.”

“No, just wondering if you’re gonna be done in time for dinner. I’m making tortellini.”

“I’ll be done in ten minutes, I swear. And ready to eat like a metaphor that’s more appropriate to you. Righteous vengeance really works up an appetite.”

“Uh-huh. Just out of curiosity, who exactly are you righteously avenging at the moment?”

“Humanity? Good taste? God, who couldn’t possibly have foreseen this free will thing would go so very wrong? That poor defunct condom that tried its best but in the end, just wasn’t up to the task of keeping this shithead from being unleashed unto the Earth? I dunno. Do I have to pick just one?”

Not really. As stated, Scott’s not actually judging anymore than Danny’s trying to hide this from him. They’re both in total agreement about the kind of people Danny cyber-vigilantes. They just have different approaches about how they should be handled. Scott, while not violent by choice for the most part, does tend to favor the direct approach. He just feels its right that a person know why exactly he thinks they’re a terrible person who deserves what they get. So he tends more towards the approach of: punch a bigot in the face, wait for a second for a whiff of remorse or sign someone might be suddenly reevaluating life choices, because he’s Scott and hope springs eternal, but when no such revelation comes, just shrugging and walking away. Oh well. He tried. Sorta. Well, kinda.

Danny, in contrast, prefers to go for the jugular and leave no hint of who or what might have been behind the all-encompassing full frontal assault that hits every online trace of his target’s miserable and miserly existence. It keeps them paranoid and this keeps him sated. Plus, his stance is when they don’t know what exactly earned them an enemy of his caliber, it forces them to reflect or at least call to mind every thing they can think of doing wrong to someone that might result in that someone hating them this much.

The ironic thing of course is Danny doesn’t even really hate them, because that implies a level of giving a shit he can’t ever quite seem to muster. He mostly just thinks they suck and should suffer for that. And he gets bored a lot. 

Look, his husband and fellow werewolves are off saving the world every other week and being all kinds of kick-ass and action adventure movie-star types in the process. A guy sitting behind at home all the time has to get his jollies somehow. Also, he’s compiled a very engaging soundtrack to accompany his personal heroic undertakings, and it does wonderful things for his self image. Danny’s all about that self-care.

Plus, the first time he and Scott had something of a disagreement on their approaches, Danny unapologetically stated that loving him meant loving his vindictive side, because he personally was quite fond of it and thought it was really something of a Look. Also, making that Look into a Thing might be something of a dealbreaker for him, because he really didn’t want to undersell his capacity to be petty, and how little shame he felt about having said capacity. His essential life philosophy boils down to sometimes people just suck and somebody needs to say so. Maybe by draining their bank account and redirecting the funds to an ironically relevant charity.

“Fine,” Scott had conceded with a sigh. “Just be careful about making enemies like this, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

(That was really his only real concern all along. He’s a Nurturing Nelly. Scott can’t help but be a worry wart when his husband roams the internet highways under a masked IP address, taking on bandits and bigots all willy nilly, with not a bit of concern for himself. Its their biggest common ground, and Danny doesn’t have claws or a killer bite to protect himself with. A bite fetish, maybe, but that’s not quite the same thing, and also neither here nor there, and also also, he would like to plead the fifth while reminding you he can access and pull up your full porn-browsing history if you’d like to press that line of conversation further. Pervert).

Anyway, alls well that ends well, and thus Danny couldn’t help but be charmed at the reminder that his hubby is a man with clear priorities and his biggest is always gonna be the safety of his loved ones. Aww, sweetums.

“Aww, sweetums,” he said, just to see Scott squirm, because the more unexpected the endearment, the more Scott doesn’t know how to take it. And a squirmy Scott is an adorable Scott, Danny has always felt, and he is a man who appreciates his eye candy, as well as a go-getter who knows what he likes and goes and gets it, even if that means playing dirty. Especially if that means playing dirty. Danny likes dirty. 

After all, dirty men need to shower, and showering together conserves water, and having sex while showering together is just a solid application of having eyes, a hot husband, and a healthy libido. It just makes good sense. He’s goal-oriented and a linear thinker, what do you want, leave him alone. He’s valid and you’re just jealous.

Still, exotic endearment applied, he’d then followed up with:

“How dare you accuse me of being so bad at the thing that I am most skilled at that you imply I’m even capable of ever leaving digital tracks like a total N00b. What do I look like to you? A 4chan poster who just figured out how to spoof their GPS for the first time?” 

Danny rolled his eyes, exaggerating his wounded pride. It was the principle of the matter, and he was very principled. Sometimes. Kinda. If principles mean whimsy and whimsy means shh, don’t interrupt me, I’m doing bad things to bad people and this is very important work that must be savored or you really don’t get the full oomph of the revenge-gasm. Yes, he said revenge-gasm and he meant it. No he will not elaborate. Imagination is free.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for your low opinion of me, your valued and valuable life partner. Also, no sex for you, until…..okay maybe that’s too far. You seem like you’ve learned your lesson.”

“You’re too merciful,” Scott had said drily. 

“Nobody’s perfect,” Danny had said lackadaisically. “Also, not to disrespect your tortellini-making expertise, but any chance we can put a pin in dinner until after we go have wild, passionate sex? This pending revenge-gasm is making me horny and I really hate to waste a good head of moral crusading.”

“That was a terrible pun.”

“I have never made a pun in my life, how dare you, my sense of humor is sophisticated. I’m not a peasant, Scott. And where did we land on the sex.”

“Didn’t we just do it this morning?”

“I have needs, Scott.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“And water is wet. I don’t see the relevance. Also, if you don’t want me jumping you 24/7, you have no business being so hot. Its your own damn fault, deal with it.”

“There you go with the victim-blaming again.”

“I’ll do five Hail Marys after I finish doing sinful things to you and racking up another five. Its more efficient to tackle them all at once.”

“Not sure that’s how that works, babe.”

“Eh, guess I’ll just go to hell then. Still worth it. Still your fault. Oh look, I’m naked all of a sudden, how did that happen?”

Scott sighs. “What am I going to do with you?”

“R is for Ravish me, if you’re really looking for suggestions. I can probably do the whole alphabet if you need. Or just do me. Whichever.”

Scott cut off further melodramatic peacocking with a kiss.

Things proceeded to a total media black out from there. Further voyeuristic attempts at seeing the Alpha and his mate get down, get down, would necessitate the invocation of the cautionary tale of the last pack member to not properly respect the sanctity of the inner sanctum of the Vindictive Master of Digital Identities and Other Important Details. His name is Chester, middle initial A., surname with a phonetic similarity to certain orifices. That wasn’t always his name, but it was once Danny got done with him, and that was only after Scott gave him the Pointed Stare of One Who Will Look More Benevolently On Those Who Demonstrate Both Mercy and Restraint.

Tis very much a tale of woe, as Chester is 6′5″, 260 lbs of visually intimidating werewolf muscle, and facial features that when accompanied by choice words and phrases, rather does call to mind certain similarities to certain orifices.

Like I said. Danny is very good at what he does. And everybody loves Danny.

….Aside from all other motivating reasons, its just a good idea in general. 

Y’know.

Practically speaking.

[volcanofireflame150]

The Heart of Nature

Story Series; Ch2

Chapter 1

"Come on, get up," said the hunter who captured me. I can't believe that I was stripped away from my home and into this submission state, I don't even know my own name anymore because I've been called it or slave, I was forced to wear these torn up clothes because they want me to feel weak and helpless. I wasn't even allowed to speak at all, they forced me to be mute, I'm guessing that all stopped when we saw someone standing before us and yes, they had me on a leash. The hunters were horrible to me, I had to be very obedient for them to get on what they want, basically I was not allowed to say no. I handed over to another hunter, I felt so embarrassed that I was somewhat trained to be this otherwise I will risk my life, so I had to listen to what they tell me to do. Thankfully they haven't done anything to my fertile system, I guess that hasn't crossed their minds, this all happened in the Nature Kingdom, and this is the kingdom where I thought everyone was welcomed but apparently I was not one of those people because I'm in this situation. I saw my fellow satyrs and fauns looking at me all sad because I was in this get up, overnight I had enough so I snuck out and went into one of the carriages, of course, I ended up somewhere else, this time I'm in the Earth Kingdom but now I'm chained up to a wall but only my ankle has the chain.

I was now used like a worthless animal because now these guards are treating me like one, but now I understand on why they made it worse is because they are hunters but not the same hunters, I was living my life peacefully and now I'm gonna live my life being treated like an animal. One night, I was crying so much that I want everything to end because this was getting worse so much that I might think that they are gonna take away my fertility and I don't want that. 15 minutes later, my cell of my cage was being opened and I saw a shadow figure, all I can speak out was, "End me please." Then I heard a very angry groan then what happened next I heard those hunters screaming because of what was happening. The figure came back and I saw blood dripping from his blade, I heard him say, "You don't have to worry about them, you can come out now." Then I looked at the chain he threw the keys to me and said, "Unlock yourself." I did what I was told and slowly walked out but very weakly because it's been a while since I've eaten a full meal. This guy caught this and gave me a bowl of fruits, said, "Eat up, you'll need it to survive in this world." I only took the apple and ate it, I was savoring each bite because the apple was so fresh. Then the next day, I woke up to being in a very warm bed, I looked to my right was a plate full of eggs, pancakes, bacon, rolls, and basically the whole breakfast category, I took the plate and began to eat everything that was brought to me. Well, only the food, then my savior came in and asked, "How is it?" I looked at him and forgotten on how to speak because I was trained to be mute all this time, then I saw pencil and paper, then wrote 'Great' on it. Then he said, "I made this entire breakfast feast for you so you can live your life the way you want it and now since I have one of my guards in that cell that you were in. I was told that you were forced to be mute so I took the liberty of making sure you have enough paper and pencils so you can say on the paper while you are trying to find your voice again." I wrote asking him, "Can I know your name?" "I'm Kyungsoo, King of the Earth Kingdom," he said, "What's your name?" I shrugged then wrote on what I have been called for majority of my life, he winced then said, "You are going to be called Mana, wanna know why?" I gave him a questioning look, then he said, "You are very magical." That made me blush, this is very different from what I had to go through over the past couple of months, he made sure that I had plenty of sleep, drinks, and food made for me because he seems to have a mission for someone like me. I woke up the next morning, I saw the door open this time, Kyungsoo said in a soft tone, "I would like to show you around." I got up, still haven't found my voice but I gotten enough courage to say "Thank you for being so kind to me." That's all I could speak out because the hunters really put something to make my vocal cords to sound hoarse, Kyungsoo said, "After I show you around, I'm gonna have one of my friends over and have him get a look at your vocal cords." He showed me around, then I couldn't help but find myself all alone while he was walking around talking to himself now while I found a garden that was in need of helping, then I saw a pine log, I picked it and started to construct a wooden flute, we, Satyrs, are known for our music, we help the flowers and trees stay healthy and fresh. Then I got a string from a spider since I asked for its help, because I wanted it to sound like an actual flute. I remember now, I'm the Faun Princess of Music, it was so perfect now, my flute, so I started to play my flute and it was terribly off key. Then the spider which was a very friendly Black Widow, she showed me the real material, I gathered those materials and made a new flute, I played it towards a rose and it started to gain its color back. I went in the center and played a full length song on my flute, I had no idea on how he managed to get there but Kyungsoo was there listening to it all the way through, my new flute also healed my vocal cords because I said this, "This sounds so amazing!" I covered my mouth because I could not believe that my voice is back, Kyungsoo was in awe on what just happened. Kyungsoo said, "It's so wonderful now you can speak. But what happened to the courtyard?" "I made all the flowers and trees get their color back by playing only on my flute," I said, "I'm a Faun after all, my kind are all Satyrs." "Satyrs? Now that explains everything," said Kyungsoo. I can't tell him that I'm also a Princess of Music otherwise he's going to think I'm taken which I don't want to lose him, last time I remember my parents doing was they sold me to those hunters who made me lose my voice in the first place. My mother was the worse one, she never liked the way I always spend my time in the gardens, my father actually allowed me to tend to the gardens at least he supported me, I do not like staying indoors all the time. Kyungsoo brought me back to reality by saying, "I hope you are ready to meet my friends across the land." "I'm ready it's just don't expect me to say anything right away, us, Fauns, are incredibly shy," I said, "By the way, Fauns, in this world, are female satyrs just so you are aware of that." "I'm going to be hitting the books about your kind," said Kyungsoo, "Since I always have time to do the things I want to do." "Don't you have duties to do?" I asked. He answered, "I always plan on what days I do them, you can say that I am very well on point so I can focus on relaxing and find someone to love me for me, not as King Kyungsoo of the Earth Kingdom." "Oh, I thought you were only a prince, if you are a king, where is your queen?" I asked. Kyungsoo looked at me and he goes, "I don't have one, I'm waiting for the one that's right for me."

[lethesomething]

Tips for traveling far and alone

Because it's been a while since i did one of these lifehack things.

I spend a lot of time traveling for work, which means  I've gathered a few XP points and I have a System and shit. So have some tips. They're pretty geared towards how I like to travel, but a few of these could prob work for many people.

  Surviving a flight

When people say they love to travel, they mean that they like being places. Very few people like the actual 'getting there' part. It's stressful, there's waiting lines, you're forced to sit still for long periods of time and usually you have to get up at stupid hours. Being treated like cattle just isn't very fun, and it's not good for your health, either. So:

Rest. Airplanes are just… brimming with germs. The reason that this affects you more than, say, the multitude of germs on the subway you take every day, is because farther trips, especially of the 'party' or 'work' variety are utterly exhausting, and that affects your immune system. So while it is tempting to stuff as much as possible in that trip, know that you're 100% gonna get sick two days later. Try not to push yourself too much, and know that you're already being pushed in ways you're probably not used to.

For the same reason: take care of yourself. Stay hydrated. Keep nourishment upon your person. Try to eat a filling, healthy meal with like vitamins and shit before you leave.

Hand sanitizer is a Gift. See above: brimming with germs. So wash your hands before eating or touching your face. In my experience, however, the sinks in those tiny bathrooms on plane or trains are about as gross as the rest of the stall. This is where hand sanitizer comes in.

Staying fed on a budget

Here's the thing about staying hydrated and healthily fed: airport food, ferry food and train station food is usually super expensive. The prices in the Starbucks at my local airport are at least 50 percent higher than the one in the centre of town, and that is Tourist Central. And this is fine. It makes sense from a business perspective. It's not like you can go anywhere. And if you're going on that one big holiday of your dreams (or if you're just, ya know, rich), go ahead and splurge on fancy sushi. But I've been in the Eurostar waiting room four times in the span of two weeks, and you kinda don't want to splurge every time, ya know.

Bring snacks. You are absolutely allowed to bring food through a security check. Airport security doesn't allow a specific amount of liquid but it says nothing about sandwiches, homemade cookies or fruit.

Bring filling food. While you're at it: don't just bring food, but make sure it'll last. My mom, when I was little and went on school trips, would always make me egg sandwiches, which is a thing I still occasionally do. Mostly, you don't want to bring white bread with nutella, because you'll get a sugar spike, right in the middle of 'expensive food town' or worse, somewhere above the Atlantic. So egg sandwiches work, rice balls work, heck, I've brought banana bread or pancakes with rye flower and a lot of nuts in them. Whatever works.

The caveat here is obviously country quarantines. You can't bring cultures and live plants and bugs and stuff. If you're like going to Australia or New Zealand, bring only pre-packaged snacks, or make sure you finish them on the plane.

Do the water bottle trick. You know those bins before security where you're supposed to deposit all your empty bottles? Those are bullshit. You're not allowed to bring *liquids*. An empty bottle is fine (of course this depends heavily on the airport and the mood of security agents that day, don't argue with them, just… don't). In my experience, I've been perfectly able to bring an empty water bottle with me through security, just to fill it at a water fountain later on. I'll admit that this is a Very Cheap trick, but I like having water with me at all times, ok?

  Packing for experts

I don't like overloading myself. Few things bother me more than those stupid trolley things that get in the way of everything and that you're basically stuck with, so I try to make two/three day trips on just a backpack and like a tote. This is a challenge, considering I treck around with a heavy laptop and like a Nintendo Switch and two smartphones.  And all the cables needed to keep those things running. Here are some tricks:

Don't bother with shampoo. Heavily dependent on the hotel you're staying, but business hotels will always have soap and shampoo for you. The good ones have conditioner as well. Is it shitty? Yes. Is it worth bringing your own bottle over that? Usually not.

Pack whatever the bare essentials are for you. By which I mean don’t just go by the checklist you got off the internet. No, not even this one. For me, the bare essentials are a toothbrush, toothpaste, make-up for being fancy, deodorant and way too much hand cream. Do try to stay somewhat comfortable, it's a trip, not a punishment.

Speaking of bare essentials: ear plugs will save, if not your life, then at least your sleep pattern. Most methods of transportation, and some hotels, are loud AF. You don't want to wear those headphones while trying to sleep.

Roll your clothes. I got this off of a very old Lifehacker article and that shit works ok? Put your outfit flat on the bed, one layer over the next. Fold in the sides and roll the whole thing into a tight cylinder. Once cylinder per outfit/day.  Shove said cylinders into your bag for remarkably wrinkle-free outfits at the end of the line.

Jeans are overrated (don’t @ me) Unless you're only wearing one pair of pants, why would you bring jeans? They're chunky and thick and heavy. Made for weathering hard labour, not for sitting in a plane seat for eight hours. Same goes for chunky knit sweaters. Pretty, comfy and warm, but they take up So Much Space.

You know what's great? Leggings. I say this as a rotund lady, whose travel uniform is leggings, sneakers and a tunic. That shit takes up almost no space, it's comfortable and if you get the right fabrics, it doesn't wrinkle. Also: counts as business casual.

Layers are your friend. Weather is notoriously unpredictable and climate change is a thing. I was in the UK in friggin october and it was 25 degrees and sunny. You can't really prepare for that, so layer. Bring a lightweight jacket, bring a thin shawl.

Wear comfy shoes. I shouldn't have to say this because life is too short to wear shitty shoes, but if you're going to travel, for the love of all that is holy don't do it in painful shoes. You will Always Walk More than you expected. Even if they drop you off at the airport. Airports are huge. The Underground or Metro has surprisingly long hallways to traverse, just finding your hotel may take a walk. And also: what's the point of going to some city abroad if you're not going to walk that city? You're flying all the way over there to see the inside of a convention hall? Fuck that.  Walk the city. Experience culture. Go friggin shopping.

Get a good bag. It's not very professional looking to travel for work with a backpacker bag, so I see a lot of those leather bags that double as a trolley. They're invariably hideous. Luckily there are better options. People who know me have heard me wax poetic about my backpack, which is pretty much a Tardis. You can fit ridiculous amounts of stuff in there considering that it counts as a laptop bag for cabin baggage. Extra tip: if you're going the overstuffed route, make sure the zippers are of the chunky type. I have broken zippers on several bags already, the thin ones really can't take too much strain.

  Safety and stuff

Staying safe and comfortable when traveling alond doesn't have to be too hard.

If you're the careful type you probably already do this but: use the chain on your hotel room door. Most hotels let you use a chain or bolt, as well as some kind of simple hand lock, on top of your keycard. This is important, because hotels are still a public place and those keycards are meant to be used by more than one person. I have a tendency to hang out in my hotel room in my underwear, (it is one of the joys of traveling alone, don't judge me), and I've had cleaning staff just show up in my room in the middle of the day. That is their job. I've also had people try to come into my room thinking it's their room, while I was in the tub. Shit happens. So if you're in your room, keep it locked. That little chain or bolt keeps pretty much everyone out.

Be aware. One of the issues of traveling alone, is that you don't have a buddy to have your back. This means you have to keep your own security. Now I'm not a very scared person; I will walk an unknown city by myself, even at night, but i'm also not stupid. Stick to main roads, don't flaunt expensive gadgets, don't get drunk. You know the drill. Basically be aware of your surroundings.

Do attempt to blend in. It will make you less of a target, though I do realize that some ethnicities will stand out in certain places, regardless of what they do. In general, most large cities are a mix of races and languages, and even then you can pick out an Obvious Tourist because their whole deal is their Otherness. The clothes they wear, the way they act and talk, it screams that they view this whole area as a zoo. People don't really like that. So adjust, a little, if you can, to the vibe of the place you're in. It could be about walking speed, level of politeness, Commuter Resting Bitch Face. It is definitely also about standing on the right side of the escalator, and not blocking traffic. Little things. Get ye a coffee and a window seat and just watch people for a while to pick up on it. Pretend like you're in a romantic coming of age film while doing it.

  The interbots abroad

There are essentially only three things I cannot live without when traveling: passport, credit card, internets. The first two are obvious (the credit card is for buying underwear in case everything else gets lost). The internets are for things like maps, companionship, and freaking out over private message when things somehow go wrong. It’s a great comfort.

Roaming sucks: the best thing the EU did in the past few years is get rid of roaming charges. So if you have a european phone subscription, any mobile data used in most EU countries will just go off your regular tab. But usually, roaming in other countries is Ridiculously Expensive, so you would  have to buy a burner phone or local card (which is getting harder), or you're stuck with wifi.

Funny thing about hotels: the fancier they are, the more they charge for wifi, on average. Your basic motel will have free wifi, the friggin Hilton will charge your per hour and have next to no plugs. It's getting a little better, because honestly, who charges for wifi, but if you're in this situation, consider the alternatives.

Get coffee. Starbucks is pretty much everywhere and it's a good place to get your internets on. Yes, the coffee is expensive, but still cheaper than hotel wifi, and as a bonus you get coffee. Furthermore, it has popularized the idea that coffee shops need free wifi, so you'll find plenty of local cafés that offer it as well. In the US you could also try like McDonalds or other places that offer it (tip: this usually does not work in Europe; McD's wifi in Europe is generally Awful).

VPN's, at least the free ones, are fairly useless. Most of them will not get through, for instance China's censorship wall, and several are also just a thin front for collecting your data. Honestly, if you're going to a country with strict internet rules and you won't be staying long, it's probably easier to just stay under the radar.

Speaking of radar: clear your devices of any incriminating things before hopping borders. Especially if you're going to the weird places. The US border police might confiscate your laptop and charge you for stolen mp3's, for instance. Some countries' border police may attempt to have you log into social accounts. Put on, at the very least, two-factor authentication to stop anyone swiping your credentials. Better yet, back up your devices and put them back on factory settings before crossing particularly challenging borders.

[besidemethewholedamntime]

love is more thicker than forget ch. 2

I expanded the prompt fill that has the same name of this! I hope you like it :)

Summary:

'He sets down the bag, places the flowers in the vase that waits empty to receive them. She looks up, then, and there’s almost a flicker of recognition before she says what he dreads with trembling lips and glassy eyes; “I forgot my name again.” They tell him that eventually it won’t hurt as much. They tell him that they just don’t know why. He wants to ask a higher power. He wants to take it back. ' Where Jemma doesn't remember anything and Fitz remembers everything.An Amnesia AU and expansion of my 'love is more thicker than forget' prompt fill.

{Read from the beginning here}

{Or go straight to chapter two}

or read below!

They get to come home on a Saturday.

It’s an odd day for a discharge, but that thought only crosses his mind in the first two seconds after the consultant tells him. The second is elation of such a degree that he’s never had in his life. Maybe things can go back to normal again. Then the third is a fear, something such as he’s never known before.

“But... but her memory isn’t back yet? So, when you say she’s going home...”

The consultant smiles at him; she’s been so patient with him this whole time. “We’re discharging her into your care, Dr. Fitz, as her next of kin. Her memory may not be back but there’s no medical reason for her to be stuck in hospital. And we tend to find that amnesia patients feel more comfortable amongst a somewhat familiar setting.”

It makes him feel partly better, for he feels as though he can decipher some hope of recovery in the doctor’s tone. Recovery of memory. As has just been stated, Jemma is perfectly healthy. Though he’s still worried. Jemma has no idea who he is. She’s still not even sure of herself. Sometimes she murmurs Jemma Simmons over and over again in her sleep, as if trying to commit herself to her newly fragile memory.

“I wouldn’t worry, Dr. Fitz,” the consultant smiles, placing a brief hand on his arm. “She does wish to go back with you.”

Fitz lets it and a hundred other things soothe him. The way Jemma smiles at him when he walks into a room. The she lights up when she remembers small things; the fact that it’s almost winter, that her mother is called Juliet, that Alpha was the name of the family dog when she was a child. The progress is small, minute steps, for she still cannot piece these things all together, but at least they’re in the right direction.

The worries take a back seat, and he almost forgets about them, until he pulls up in front of their house, turns off the ignition, and looks over only to see her face.

“I know this is home,” she says through deep breaths, eyes tightly shut. “But it’s like I’ve only read it in a book.” Tears fall from her eyes when she opens them. “I don’t know it how you’re meant to know it. Not at all.”

He reaches over to take her hands in his. They’re so cold. He cups his own around them, trying to make them warm. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s fine. Don’t force yourself, alright? Just think of it as a place you’re staying, for now. If it gets too much then we’ll… we’ll sort something out.”

“Okay.” Lips trembling but eyes flashing with a familiar courage, Jemma nods. In his hand, hers grow warm. “Okay.”

-x-

The first problem presents itself at bedtime.

They’ve danced around each other fine enough during the rest of the day and evening, but now night as fallen and neither one can quite pretend they know the steps anymore.

Jemma stands and looks at the bed as if she has forgotten the word. For a horrible moment Fitz worries that she has. But no. Instead, with an incredibly forced smile, she turns to him. “If you just point me in the directions of the blankets and pillows then I’ll settle myself on the couch.”

Fitz is already in the wardrobe, pulling said items out for his own night on the couch. In return, he forces a laugh. “Jemma, don’t be silly, alright? You’re having the bed.”

“No, really, I insist. You look absolutely knackered. I’ll take the couch.”

Does he? He hasn’t looked at himself in the mirror for days. Even shaving has been such a passive task, carried out with no care for the end result. As a scientist, he finds it fascinating how people can change, how circumstances can cause them to alter the very fibres of their being.

“You were just in a multi-car traffic accident.” The words are said lightly, but they taste of bile. “I am taking the couch.”

“Ugh, Fitz. Please. This is your house. I am not kicking you out of your own bed.”

The words don’t hit him, not exactly. It doesn’t feel like that. His heart just stops and he feels ever so sick but there’s no force there; his body scrambling to find out what’s caused him to feel like this. It scares the hell out of him.

It’s our house. It’s yours and it’s mine and it’s nobody else’s.

“Jemma,” he begins softly, because there’s not enough breath left for anything else. “you know fine well I’m not letting you sleep on the couch while I sleep in the bed.”

And then he recoils when his words do to her what hers did to him. She doesn’t know. His carelessness, after what came before, makes him ill. Never before has he wanted to take words back this much.

To her credit, she smiles weakly. That same brave face that he loves but also worries for. “Of course, Fitz.” The smile doesn’t reach her eyes and the laugh sounds pathetic to both of them, but they leave it unspoken. “This bed does look quite comfy.”

“It is,” is all he can croak before he bids her goodnight and leaves her be.

Their couch is comfortable – Jemma made sure of that. All the same he can’t sleep. Not that he was ever expecting to. His mind races with all of the things he wants to say, wants to be allowed to think. About how he never could have slept in that bed without her. That all the days when she was in the hospital he never did. That this is their home, their house. That their lives are so entwined that it’s not as simple as just pulling apart chopsticks, but more like unravelling and unwrapping the DNA double helix. Things get affected, change irrevocably. Things fall apart.

In the back of his mind, in some small naïve part, he expected it to be the way it was when they were at university. They didn’t know each other, well; it took them time. And he thought it wouldn’t be so bad if it went back to that. He could do that. It would be fine.

But things have changed, and how he’s forgotten that he’s a substance who, once changed, could not go back to its original composition. They cannot be those people again. Because they were on the same page, the same people. Two, young, wife-eyed and naïve scientists looking for answers and, though perhaps unconsciously, each other.

Now it’s all different. They are not those people. She knows nothing and he knows everything and the knowledge that he cannot share eats him alive.

Seized by a sudden desire to have something of the past, Fitz bolts up and flips on the light to dig around in the pockets of his jacket that lies abandoned on the coffee table. The velvet underneath his fingers brings him mere moments of relief and he pulls the box out, sitting with it cupped gently between his two hands.

The doctors gave it to him along with everything else after she was pulled from the wreckage. It had been covered in blood and engine grease and that first night he sat by her bedside and cleaned it until it shone so brightly, with the hope that in the morning everything would be right again. And when she couldn’t remember, when she had groggily opened her eyes and asked him who he was, he had put it in his pocket, and decided that he wouldn’t make her feel like she owed him anything. That, eventually, she would find her way back to him and everything would be ready for when that day came.

Tears in his eyes, on his face, that he doesn’t care to wipe away, Fitz opens the box. The ring doesn’t shine the way he remembers. It looks dull and faded and, somehow, he’s not surprised at all.

He closes the box. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he quietly sobs himself to sleep.

-x-

In the morning he forgets.

He wonders why he’s asleep on the couch. What did he and Jemma do last night? Were they out? He hasn’t slept on the couch since Daisy’s engagement party got a little bit out of hand…

But then it comes back. Those seconds go as quickly as they came and he is left with the memory of what reality is for them now.

Someone is singing in the kitchen. Fitz hears the radio, the sound of a whisk against the bowl, the splashing of milk into a jug. Normal Sunday morning sounds. What he knows to be true, and what he hears are very different things. Before he goes to investigate, he tucks the little velvet box back into his jacket pocket and hangs it up behind the door. Out of sight, just not quite out of mind.

He watches her in the kitchen. Just for a moment. Her hair tumbles loose across her shoulders – he recognises the freshly washed wave it has. Her forehead has that crease in it, the one she gets from concentrating. She peers into her recipe book before whisking what appears to be pancake batter. The radio plays an upbeat tune but his heart slows. She looks up and sees him watching and she beams and it’s almost the same.

“Good morning, Fitz.” There is no longer the pause before his name. Small steps in the right direction.

He pushes off the doorway and walks into the room. “Morning, Jemma.”

“I’m making pancakes,” she announces, grabbing a ladle from beside the cooker. “It felt like the right thing to do.”

Cautiously delighted, he nods. “Um, yeah. I mean if it feels right. I’ll never turn down pancakes.”

She chuckles, tilts her head slightly to one side. “I thought you would say that.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a second too long and the moment becomes too heavy to hold. They both cough, look away. He shuffles on his feet, unsure of the next steps.

Jemma’s the brave one. She points her ladle at the table, to the mug sitting on it. “I made you tea.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” His hands wrap around the cup like it’s a life ring. The warmth floods into his bones. Things feel bearable now.

“It already has milk and sugar in it. I wasn’t sure of the exact quantities so I’ve left the spoon for the sugar by the sink just in case.”

Knowing that he’ll never do that, he takes a sip of his tea, and closes his eyes and breathes deeply when it tastes exactly right.

[stressedspidergirlsfandomblog]

Pt17

(Conversations around consent, sexual activity, and descriptions of torture and attempted suicide. I will put a little - before a paragraph with torture/assault and another - when its over. May or may not also include implied consensual activity. We'll see where this goes.)

Curtis wakes up to soft little regular whimper-moans from behind him. Unsure if his lover is dreaming of torture, or if it's a happy kind of dream, he shifts back a bit, pressing into Takashi to check. Smiling a little in relief it's definitely not torture. Sighing a little, he's awake now. And hungry. They didn't eat dinner last night. They'd gone to bed. Worth the missed meal in Curtis' opinion. However, he's ravenous.

Digging through the cupboards he finds oatmeal, spices, and dried fruit. Surprised to find so many seasonings in the cabinets of a man who rarely cooks, Curtis wonders if it's a holdover from living with Adam. Especially considering Takashi doesn't even buy himself proper self grooming products. Probably just habit to keep the spices around.

The fridge has a few flavors of almond milk. Some non dairy creamers, and not much else in it. Overall the food choices are somewhat depressing. There's more in the freezer, thankfully. Frozen meat, vegetables, and fruit. Shaking his head a little, he sighs.

But another look through the pantry shows plenty of rice, beans, potatoes...cereal. He's feeding himself.

Finding a flat pan, he starts some of the last of the bacon. Whisks some eggs in a bowl. And adds vanilla almond milk to the oatmeal with cinnamon, nutmeg, and fruit. It can sit until Takashi wakes up.

Curtis likes the simple ritual of preparing food. He doesn't mind doing this. Although once they live together he figures if he cooks, Takashi can do the shopping. He usually already does the cleaning up.

Some time later he hears a weird noise somewhere between "blech" and "ugh" accompanied by soft but vehement cursing.

"You okay?" Curtis calls when the swearing doesn't stop but he hears water running. "Did your dream not have a happy ending?" He asks, heading into the bedroom.

"If you can call it that," Shiro snaps back, voice cracking.

Takashi is naked from the waist down and he throws the washcloth into the sink as Curtis comes in. His face is red and his eyes are full of tears.

"What's wrong? You okay?"

"I don't know."

"What happened?" He gently thumbs a tear off Takashi's cheek.

"I don't know. My body never did this. I was, I was finally feeling like I was in my own skin and then this happens!"

"What, as a teen you didn't get wet dreams? God you were lucky." Stroking back Takashi's hair he gently kisses his cheek.

"I didn't even know this was possible," he protests.

"It is," Curtis assures him. "It happens. Not super common, I don't think. But yeah. It's normal."

"Not for me," Shiro protests. "Maybe the clone?"

"You had his memories and he thought he was you, right? Do you remember that happening?"

"No."

"This makes sense to me, love, I'm sorry. It's been years, right? And you have been so stressed, and so anxious, and so sick... You got a little last night... And your body wants more. Is that so awful? Years and years without any.... What'd you dream about anyway?"

Shiro turns red again, scar livid across his face. "You." He swallows. "Us."

"Oh yeah? You wanna tell me what we did that rocked your world so hard it made you come in your sleep?"

Ducking his head down, the tips of his ears are red, too. His silvery hair just makes the blush look even brighter.

"Is it embarrassing?" Curtis asks gently. "Or are you just shy about this stuff?"

"I never really talked about it with anyone. My family was.... Traditional. It was really hard to get used to the idea I liked guys at all. Adam... Had to be patient for a long time. I came out because of him. I admitted to myself... Who I was. I get to be with you because of that," he says softly. "But ... I'm not as... Blase about it as you."

"Am I allowed to ask you about it? Or tease you if it's just us? Will you be okay talking about stuff? 'Cause I'm... I'm not comfortable sleeping with you until we hash out do's and dont's." He meets Takashi's eyes. "I can wait. It's no rush. Nothing like that."

"We can talk about it," Shiro mumbles, leaning into Curtis. "I was dreaming about...us. You were um, your mouth...I think that time we talked about it has been in the back of my head this whole time."

Curtis smiles and kisses his temple. "The real thing will be a lot better," he promises. "Put some pants on, breakfast is almost ready." He slips away to make sure nothing's burning and to heat the oatmeal mix.

Shiro comes out in different sweats, still embarrassed. Still he's done worse in front of Curtis. Such as thrown up on himself in his sleep back on the Atlas. One of the first nights Curtis started checking on him. He hadn't even really woken up, either. Curtis had had to help him clean up. Change the sheets. He'd brought tea to help with his stomach. And never said a word to anyone about it. Not once.

They eat relatively quietly, seated at the counter with their knees touching.

"What time is it anyway?" Curtis mumbles, mostly to himself. Glancing at his watch he blinks. "We woke up early."

"Hm?"

"Its 0600. I usually get up closer to 0700. Guess I have time to lie around." He smiles a little.

"What'd'ya want me to pick up at the store?" Shiro mumbles. Already trying to decide on what kind of grooming products he needs. He knows most of Curtis' favorite snacks already. The man has a sweet tooth.

"Something not frozen or dried...how long am I staying?"

Turning red he shrugs. "We haven't really had a chance to talk and I don't want to do that before work if that's okay."

"Fine by me," Curtis agrees.

Done with his food he hops up, taking the now empty dishes and heading to the sink. He cleans up automatically, glad to have something to do. For all it's a hair harder with just one hand. He has to set the dish down to swab it out. Then he loads them into the dishwasher.

Curtis contentedly watches him move around the kitchen. They've only been together a few months as a couple now. But this feels right. He loves this man. Scars and all. And he knows Takashi feels the same way. After all he's been through, it's nice to let himself again. It's nice to be loved. It's nice to know the person he's letting himself be with is worthy of it. After his partner had died, Curtis had had a string of one offs and bad decisions. And he'd treated them and himself like trash.

One of the absolute best things about Takashi is that he makes Curtis feel so loved. So wanted. So incredibly safe and special and like he matters more than anything else in the world. Takashi has this special way of focusing on him that makes him feel like he's the only other person in the world.

"If I go in early I can leave early," Curtis says, and Takashi nods a little. "Gives us more time tonight?"

"Yeah. Sounds good." He smiles a little.

It seems a little forced but they've been through a lot. "Hey how's your back feeling?"

Blinking in surprise, he stretches a little, his hand on the small of his back. "Good."

"Lemme feel," Curtis smiles. When Takashi comes around the counter and leans over to present as much of his back as possible to his partner.

"Hey look, still not purple," Curtis teases, running his fingertips up and down Takashi's back. He laughs when Takashi arches under his touch, just like a cat. "I love you so much," he says affectionately.

"I love you, too. Please don't stop," he adds.

"Well. I will have to eventually. I can't be late." But all the same he scratches up and down his partner's back. He enjoys the way Takashi shifts under his hand. Deciding that both hands might be best in this situation he shifts on the stool to make it easier to give scratches.

Eventually it's time to go. They kiss goodbye and head out together, but part ways outside the building.

Shiro sends Keith a message.

Stuck going to the store. You need anything?

0645

Probably should grab some basics. Meet you at the store?

0647

Sounds good. No plants.

0648

Mom says you should bring 'your mate' a gift. Yes plants. Apparently. Or the skulls of your enemies. But that seems excessive.

0650

That would not match his decor, no.

0650

See you in 10.

0651

Keith finds Shiro in the personal grooming section of the store.

He looks up when he notices the Red Paladin. "Curtis also has a problem with my taste in body wash."

"I see."

"Problem is I have no idea what to pick," Shiro shrugs.

Keith peers over in the basket. It looks like Shiro has managed to pick up fruit, vegetables, and some kind of meat in the time it took him to wait for a train to pass. "Sorry I'm late, by the way."

"Stuck at the tracks?"

"Yeah. Slowest train I've ever seen. Couldn't have been going much over 80."

"Disappointing."

"Seems like you're mostly done."

"Still need snacks. And candy of some kind. Curtis is an addict."

"Where's your protein crap you always used to get?"

"I always hated it. And medical says I'm healthy now... So. I didn't buy any."

Keith looks over at Shiro and notices some things that disturb him. For one, every time he reaches out to maybe pick a bottle, there's some kind of tremor in his hand. Two, he's sweating and the store is chilly. Three, he's a little flushed. Four, his eyes seem glassy. Getting in closer, he lightly squeezes Shiro's shoulder and hides his expression. Shirt is damp. He's been distressed for a while.

"What about pine? You always had some weird thing for forest scented crap."

"No, that was Adam. I was the one who liked spearmint and wintergreen."

"So why did you always smell like-.... ? Ah."

Shiro turns red. "I know Curtis likes cinnamon. But I don't see that here."

"There's stuff that's kinda minty," Keith points out. "You can buy whatever you want." Personally he thinks having to change your scent to please your partner is ridiculous. Probably why he's not much for dating. "See this one?" He cracks the lid to sniff and then hands it over, watching Shiro's hand like a hawk.

The shaking is still there. He's still beading sweat around his hairline and his hair is starting to stick to his face.

"That's kind of the problem," Shiro mutters, sniffing the bottle. It smells nice. Shampoo. Okay. So now just body wash. Maybe something for dry skin? He's been itchy lately and Curtis is probably right. He's probably drying his skin out. He can take care of himself a little better for Curtis. "Is there matching body wash?" He asks, trying to read labels without giving away the entire aisle is swimming. He's so stressed out. Which is how he ended up just grabbing a random bottle and bailing the first time around.

Keith looks at him and back at the shelf quizzically before picking it up from right in front of Shiro and handing it to him. "Says ultra cleansing. Isn't that code for: will dry your skin out?"

"Oh. Maybe I should pick something else."

Unsure of what to make of this, he shrugs. "You could just get the same brand you used to, and pick a different scent."

Shiro shifts uncomfortably. "I can't remember what it was," he admits. "I'm missing a lot here and there," he tugs absently on his bangs. Remembering how his skull had been cracked open.

"It's this stuff in the red bottles. It's got some stupid names, though." He tries to keep his expression neutral. He knew Shiro had issues remembering everything that happened while he was enslaved as a gladiator. He had no idea Shiro had also lost any time before then.

"Whatever's there is fine."

"Maybe Lance would be more helpful," Keith suggests. Then they both look at each other and laugh. "Okay so definitely not. But hey there's only four options, so."

They test out each bottle, Shiro hates the first. Keith the second. The third and fourth take a while to decide between. Shiro just picks up the matching shampoo and dumps it in.

"Do you think I need more clothes?" He asks hesitantly.

Keith kind of stares. "Judging by your apartment? Probably." Watching Shiro looking over at something on the other end of the men's care aisle, he realizes he doesn't want to help shop for the next thing. "What kind of candy? I'll grab that while you finish up here."

Realizing Keith figured it out, he turns red. "Uh. He'll eat pretty much anything that isn't black licorice. But he's kinda partial to anything sour and then chocolate with almonds or peanuts."

"Got it."

"Thanks." Shiro wanders down to the other end of the men's aisle. There's an overwhelming amount of things and he's realizing he's not sure if Curtis has preferences. And his personal comm is off at work. And Shiro isn't going to call him about condom brands on a Garrison line. They're all recorded. While he's not sure if it will be days, weeks, or months until they need any supplies he'd rather have them on hand.

Thinking about what he's used before, he doesn't see any familiar packaging and the aisle blurs in and out of his vision for a minute. There, he grabs a few things. He's not into anything all that interesting, and looking at some of the grocery-store approved toys makes him feel uncomfortable. A few things look like something the Galra would have found a way to weaponize and use and while he's sure before all this he would have been game... Now he isn't. He realizes he doesn't even really want Curtis on top of him, either. Or at least, not inside him.

-

He can still feel the blood running down the inside of his thighs. Sometimes just dripping steadily down without touching his body at all. They'd ripped him open in a new way. Trying to find some other way to torture and scare him. He has no idea how they guessed that, or if it was half accidental. They hadn't realized that human joints really weren't that flexible when they broke his elbow. Just testing his limits.

Shuddering he's terrified of the scarring ripping open again. Of just anything tearing into him.

Trying to imagine if he could go down on Curtis his throat tightens and he swallows hard against a gag. What if it feels like the feeding tube they'd forced down his throat? He'd been refusing to eat after. Had tried to hide the bleeding. When it stopped he'd been so depressed he'd given up hope and reopened the wound. Tore skin. Hadn't cared. He'd wanted to bleed to death. They'd stapled the wound shut, drugged him with a paralytic that did nothing about the fact he couldn't sleep, shoved a tube down his throat, and chained him spread eagle so he couldn't move so much as an inch and inflict more damage.

-

Keith finally can't spend more time in candy and goes back to find Shiro. He's worried. He recognizes the stricken look he sees and gently takes Shiro's hand and pulls him away. "You can't get pregnant anyway, you don't need those."

Blinking and coming to, "school really failed you, didn't it?" He asks absently.

"You're cleared of any and all diseases and so's he. Nothing he can give you or vice versa."

"Maybe he doesn't like to swallow," Shiro says conversationally, still shaky. He knows Keith hates when he talks bluntly about this kind of stuff. So it'll stop the conversation in its tracks.

Keith makes a face. "Let's go find you a shirt that isn't black or grey?" He suggests.

"I look good in those colors."

"Yeah Shiro everyone does. What colors does Curtis like?"

Everything, Shiro wants to say. Curtis is full of life and color in spite of everything. "Purple. Galaxy purple like in those hubble telescope photos..." He says softly, thinking of the prints he's seen in Curtis' apartment. "Dark blue..." His bedroom.

"Great. There you go."

"Black and grey used to bring out my eyes..." Shiro teases, fluttering his eyelashes and trying to recover from earlier.

"And match your hair." Keith just shrugs and smiles blandly.

They wander over to the clothing section and browse. Shiro ends up with a simple deep purple henley, a dark navy vneck sweater, and Keith convinces him to try a maroon vneck tee and deep green henley, too. "Add some color old man."

They drop the groceries off, Shiro throws the meat and some seasoning into the crock pot. He can't bake to save his life but he can dump things in a pot and walk away. While he's busy Keith discovers Shiro's battered running shoes. After lecturing the other man about his knees and feet taking unnecessary damage he forces Shiro back out to get new shoes.

Then he drags him to get some nicer towels, a second set of sheets, and some actual jeans, and some nice button ups so Shiro can dress up a little without going full uniform. Shiro only has 2 pairs of black pants and Keith feels odd realizing what they're doing. Maybe he he should have let Curtis do this. But Shiro started on his own. Keith just helped him finish. And made sure he had more than just the absolute bare minimum cheapest crap he could pick in two seconds.

When they get back Keith helps him load all the fabric into the wash so it'll be ready before Curtis gets back. He has a feeling the other man will appreciate all the changes. Looking at the clock he's surprised its only a little after 1400 hours.

He notices Shiro never really stops shaking, and he seems uncomfortable the whole time. Not unwilling just not himself, either. "Do you remember forcing me to pick out clothes?" He asks suddenly.

"Yeah you were a real shithead."

"Thanks for not returning the favor."

"Wouldn't know how to be that obnoxious even if I tried," Shiro smiles.

"So magnanimous."

Shiro shakes his head a little. He flops tiredly onto the couch unsure what to make of all of it.

Keith lets Shiro sleep, fear mounting in his chest cavity. He switches the laundry into the dryer. He's not sure what to do to help Shiro. But at least the man has food. Nice sheets, soft towels. New, clean clothes. The food smells good, and Keith finds himself puttering around looking for things to do, because he's afraid to leave Shiro alone.

Eventually he settles on the couch, putting a hand on Shiro's chest to feel his heartbeat. It seems steady. Normal. Healthy. But the tremors, the sweating, the indecision... It's all so concerning.

Eventually the dryer dings softly. Keith gets up and finds himself remaking the bed, folding clothes and more or less pacing around again. Somewhat amused he's the one taking care of Shiro for a change, he settles back down on the couch when the housekeeping is done, watching him sleep.

He dozes off eventually, and wakes up to the door sliding open.

Curtis smiles as Keith hastily exits, and sniffs the air appreciatively.

Kneeling down by the couch he presses a gentle kiss on Takashi's forehead. "Hey handsome," he smiles gently. "Wake up, love."

Takashi blinks awake, and smiles when he sees Curtis. Curtis gently strokes his cheek and kisses him.

"You hungry?" He asks gently. "Food smells good, what is it?"

"Brisket, and I have veggie salad in the fridge. Just needs dressing."

"Sounds good to me, you ready?"

"Yeah. Keith ran me ragged."

"I can see that. Once we eat do you just wanna go back to bed?"

"No, we should talk."

"Okay," Curtis agrees. Kissing his forehead again he stands up. Watches Takashi shift an arm under himself and sit up, and ease his body off the couch. He seems like he's moving easier. Less stiff.

Takashi quietly gets out plates and silverware, still half asleep. Pulling the salad out he has 2 choices for dressing and lets Curtis pick. Dumping food onto his plate, he settles at the counter and waits for Curtis to do the same.

When he's done serving himself, he unbuttons his uniform, and settles the jacket across the back of his chair. "Thanks for dinner."

"Of course," Takashi smiles back. They bump knees as they eat. He's happy to eat quietly, the hustle and bustle of running errands and dealing with people has him drained. The nap helps but just sitting there with his leg against Curtis' makes him feel better. That and not being required to talk around the food.

Half wondering if they should have talked first, in case he made himself sick, he breathes out a sigh through his nose.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I didn't mean to wear myself out so badly, though. Sorry."

Curtis nudges his leg, "it's fine."

When he finishes he rinses off his dishes and loads them.

"You cooked, I would have cleaned up."

"You do most of the hard work in our relationship, I think," Shiro smiles. "I can handle some dishes."

Curtis frowns a bit, but decides that can be part of their conversation later. He's absolutely not going to let that slide. Their needs just look different. He smiles when Takashi pulls out a sack of candy. And then laughs when he realizes how full it is. "Trying to fatten me up?"

"I just... There'll always be some here for you."

Holding out his hand he takes Takashi's gently as he comes around the counter and tugs him in close, between his legs. Tipping his face up they kiss for a few moments. Soft and gentle. They pull away and smile. Takashi is a little pink and Curtis smiles. Seems like everything works fine now.

[junkyardlynx]

i feel like oversharing right now

it was always just me and my dad since i was very young. my mom was never in the picture, she passed when i was very young due to narcotic abuse, so he took care of me himself. his family shunned him for the most part and by extension, me.

we moved from the west coast to the midwest and settled down. at this time my father was already struggling with a few medical issues (a drop foot from an incident back in ‘89, a left hand near-permanently stuck in a claw shape due to an infection after a drywalling accident, a thumb that was torn off and re-attached on his right hand, chronic pain from rheumatoid arthritis) but he was capable of work. he worked at a die shop. on saturdays i’d end up at his work, napping on a forklift or playing a game on my gameboy. 

after that die shop closed, he got a job at a steamer / griddle manufacturer and moved up slowly. he eventually headed the shipping department and got a job that mostly consisted of being at desk and managing other people. since he needed the money, they gave him some extra to come in saturday and take care of a bunch of cleaning and odd jobs around the cubicle farm. i’d end up there, and played a metric fuckton of Diablo II on his computer. sometimes i’d help out, but he never made me. if i did, he’d throw me a few bucks for some cards and we’d go get lunch. 

i was happy. he did everything in his power for me. he raised me right, he taught me love and respect, he’s honestly the reason i get people i deliver to saying shit to me like “I just wanna look out for you because you remind me of my son.” he taught me compassion and kindness. also taught me some snark and gave me a love for sci fi. i still fondly remember him telling me i’d probably have the day off from school, so i could hang out in his room with ice cream and watch x-files all night.

of course, happiness doesn’t last in stories like mine. when i was 12, going on 13, my father was involved in an accident at work. he’d been taking care of things at a warehouse and a steamer fell and crushed his hip. it caused part of his hipbone to break off. being the stubborn man he was, he refused to go to the hospital until he couldn’t walk. turns out he was suffering from spinal cord compression and ended up accruing permanent nerve damage. 

my 13th birthday was spent with my dad in an understaffed, underfunded nursing home. i brought my ps2 up there so we could watch movies on DVD. a coworker of his picked me up late at night and asked if i wanted to get food. i declined. she took me home and said she’d be staying the night. i told her it was fine and she didn’t have to. i just wanted to be alone. she relented on the terms that if anything happened, i called the police immediately and then her. 

my dad was my man. he was my hero. still is, honestly. it just shook me. i’m not trying to brag or anything, but i was a pretty smart kid - blind as a bat by the time i was in third grade so i got sucked into reading and other shit that involved being close up so my idiot eyes could see. i knew things would never be the same. in the last three months i’d seen my father cry out of fear and pray to god. god never answered. 

eventually, he came home. he used a walker from that point on. before, due to his drop foot, he always wore a sort of leg-boot-brace that supported his foot and ankle, but he could still play catch and everything with me. ah, he fucking hated that walker. my dad was only 60 when he died, so from the time he was about 48 until he was 60, he used a walker or a wheelchair. the image of my father swearing and burning with embarrassment on the few times he tried to go to the store with me is burned into my mind. it makes me so sad i feel like i want to puke. my dad was a handsome man and had a budding romance with the woman who’d taken me home. it didn’t go anywhere after his accident. 

as i turned 14, i ended up driving around town for all of the errands and groceries, only letting dad drive for his doctor’s appointments so they wouldn’t ask questions. i matured relatively quickly, i had facial and chest hair in my freshman year. thankfully i was never pulled over or anything. 

my dad and i felt guilt towards each other and it showed. we were overly cautious of each other’s space as i turned 16. for me, i basically blamed my dad’s poor health on my entire existence, reasoning that if i had never been born, he would still be out on the sunny west coast, living life to the fullest, probably happy and in love. for him, he confessed years later that he felt like he’d failed me because i never ended up going out much in high school, always being at home to make sure he was okay. i just wanted him to be okay. comfortable. happy, if possible.

we continued like this until i got out of high school. i had very poor credit when i was 18 due to bills being put in my name and then subsequently being unpaid due to my father losing his disability benefits several times over, and even then, i felt like i couldn’t really devote myself to my studies because his health was always getting worse. he was constantly plagued with MRSA and cellulitis in his legs among other things, leading to weeping sores on his frightfully small-but-swollen legs that never went away. i never ended up going to college. 

i got a job, and i’m still at that job. i’ve managed to grandfather myself into a somewhat ridiculous hourly rate while still working delivery, so other prospects are incredibly noncompetitive. i started paying the rent for him and trying to do what i could to help, but we could never get ahead. copays and equipment costs piled up, culminating in him requiring a nurse to come by every week and check on him. 

i remember coming home to our apartment one day to find a box of my dad’s medical supplies unceremoniously ripped open and scattered along the stairway outside of the apartment proper. all that was in the box was gauze, medical tape and a bunch of xeroform patches (commonly used to treat burned flesh, but used for my dad’s sores). the upstairs neighbors apparently thought he’d had some drugs delivered right to his door or something. i think that was the most murderous rage i’d ever felt in my life. i did nothing about it, other than stuffing the contents into the box and telling my dad that i’d accidentally ripped it open, laughing it off. 

things continued like this until i was 23, with my father sliding further and further down the scale of healthiness. i tried to live my own life. i fell in love. it was good. i had a bout of almost dying of sepsis at this time and even in the hospital, my main concern was my dad. i made sure that nurse showed up once a day to check on him instead of once a week. it took my entire tax return but it gave me peace of mind.

a few months after i got out of the hospital, my father went back in. he’d been passing out for periods of time and his lungs were heavily degraded along with the rest of his body. they shuffled him around to a few nursing homes, but eventually, there was no chance of recovery and they sent him to hospice.

i still remember the call. i was playing destiny and eating dinner alone in my new apartment that i’d been forced to relocate to (it’s where I live now) after they refused to sign the apartment lease over to my name where i was. i was doing good. i didn’t know they were about to give up on my dad. 

he called me. went a little like this.

“hey buddy”

“hey pops, how ya doin’?”

“i’m alright, are you playin that one game? still having trouble with that deathmatch stuff?” 

“nah, i finished that. what’s up? did you need me to run something down? you want some more peanut butter m&ms? i picked some up at walgreens on the cheap.”

“nah buddy. you don’t have to worry about that anymore. they’re gonna put me in hospice.”

his voice broke; i lost mine. it was a solid minute before i could speak. my fingers kept moving out of sheer rote muscle memory.

“hospice? but i thought you said you were doing okay.”

“i am buddy. i don’t wanna live in pain anymore, and i had a good life. i’m really proud of you, and i love you. i gotta get off the phone now, but you’ll be okay. they’ll call you in the morning to tell you where i’m being moved. i love you so much, spencer.”

that was the last time i ever really got to talk to my dad while he was lucid. we had a few rambling conversations while he was drowning in pain medicine, and i ended up leaving just a few short hours before he passed one morning. i still regret it.

i miss him so fucking much. my girlfriend broke up with me the week my dad died, telling me i was “too sad about it” and that “she couldn’t help me deal with that.” turns out she was cheating. 

i lost everything i ever loved two years ago. i nearly died the year before that. i’m not okay, really. i’m still not. i’ve been pulling the broken pieces back together but all i am is a collection of scars and bruises. i can’t find the places that don’t ache anymore. 

it was just my dad and i, and i still feel like i ruined his glorious, brilliant, shining life by being born. i know it’s not what he believed at all. it just hurts. it hurts so bad and it’s hurt so, so long. 

i wish you guys could have met him.

he was so fucking funny. he said the craziest things and always had a witty reply. he liked to mess with me and others. 

he was tender. the face he made when he met Kitty Pryde (my cat that i drove an hour to pick up) was the first real spark of joy i’d seen on his face in years. they were joined at the hip. she basically just settled for me after we left - if she had a choice, it’d always be snoozing on dad’s lap. when i’d leave for work and they’d be asleep on the couch, curled up together, i felt like things were gonna be okay. 

he was kind. even to those who treated him poorly, like the doctors that ignored his pain and refused to treat him like a human being. 

he taught me how to cook. he’s the reason i’ve been able to function like an actual person since i was young - he believed in self sufficiency but not pointless pride. 

he never once berated my interests. my dad grew up in the 60′s and 70′s and his spheres of interests were pretty far from mine until later in his life - man, i got to burn my dad a CD of my favorite music. and he loved it. and made me put all my favorite tracks on his phone. he watched anime stuff on netflix. he wishes he could have played games with me more, but his hands were so bad.

my dad was the best person i’ve ever met. if i turn out half as kind and giving as him then maybe i won’t waste the life he’s given me. 

i just. miss him. i had a good dad. he was the only family i really had, but he was all i needed.

and now he’s gone. 

and i’m alone, struggling to make ends meet, struggling with my creative outlets, struggling to make sense of everything in the calm waters of absence and loss.

[cumulohimbus]

100 things I want to do in my lifetime

So, I had a really good conversation today with friends, and I opened up briefly about my stay in a psych ward a few years ago. It came up because I am acutely aware that I haven't been doing well, and am scared to return to a situation anything like my previous stay at said ward despite knowing that being hospitalized would probably be very beneficial at this time in my life. Talking about it did make me remember something though, something that gave me a lot of hope. While my experience with a psych ward was overwhelmingly negative, there was a part of treatment that really got through to me at the time. It especially helped with my suicidal ideation, which is something that's been really problematic for me again lately. Since I remembered it, I'm going to revisit the exercise, and I encourage anyone and everyone who also struggles with suicidal thoughts, thoughts of self harm, mental health issues, or even if you're just having a bad day, to give this a try. It's simple. Make a list of 100 things you want to do in your life. They can be as realistic or unrealistic as you want them to be. They can be big, long-term goals, or small, silly goals, and everything in between. The only rules are to write 100 things, and to avoid sarcastic or pessimistic things like saying one of your goals is to die or something like that. Save the list! Then someday you can go back and cross off things that you've accomplished or edit as you see necessary. Without further ado, here is my list:

1. I want to get my name legally changed to Larkspur Emmett so my dead name is no more

2. I want to get top surgery

3. I want to rekindle relationships within my family, especially with my cousins

4. I want to get scuba certified

5. I want to dive over the "sunken island" location on the lake my family had a cabin on that I visited frequently while growing up

6. I want to go diving in general, seeing a coral reef in person is an especially huge dream of mine

7. I want to rekindle my knowledge of the Spanish language and eventually become fluent

8. I want to continue learning American Sign Language

9. I want to learn more about my ancestry; I know I'm a vast mix of probably mostly European blood, but my family comes from so many different places and I'd like to know more about them

10. I want to finish the art commission I started for my close friend

11. I want to travel to places like Costa Rica, Japan, Chile, and Australia

12. I want to go on exotic travel adventures with a future romantic partner or close friend

13. I want to get my Bachelor's degree

14. I want to earn enough money to live comfortably, probably with pets

15. I want to adopt a pembroke welsh corgi

16. I want to beat my eating disorder(s) for good and be able to stop taking medication to help if at all possible

17. I want to go ziplining

18. I want to go skydiving

19. I want to hike through the Monteverde biological cloud forest reserve in Costa Rica

20. I want to develop a drag persona and perform as my persona on a regular basis

21. I want to make a fursuit (yes I said it, fite me)

22. I want to finish an entire animated music video

23. I want to learn more about plants and successfully keep one alive for longer than a year

24. I want to try my hand at raising an ant colony

25. I want to go swimming more often

26. I want to learn more martial arts

27. I want to learn to be a leader in my community

28. I want to work harder in my college classes

29. I want to learn to not fear loneliness and abandonment, and to appreciate my alone time

30. I want to get (many) more self-designed tattoos

31. I want to continue learning how to appreciate my body without caring about other people's opinions on what is considered "attractive"

32. I want to eat more whole foods both because they're healthy for me and taste far better than anything with chemicals in it

33. I want to meet a few famous people in person, can't think of many off the top of my head though, but I know there are a couple

34. I want to take dance classes again

35. I want to learn how to play a musical instrument (I mean, I took 7 years of piano and can kinda read music, but I wanna learn an instrument that's better suited for short fingers lolol, maybe french horn?)

36. I want to finish the paintings I've started

37. I want to learn how to digitally render things realistically

38. I want to finish the fanfiction piece I started a couple years ago

39. I want to become more patient and less envious

40. I want to heccing fly, okay?

41. I want to feel like relaxation is deserved and expected, and not a luxury only for those who can afford it

42. I want to reassemble an animal skeleton

43. I want to dig up a fossil (specifically of some sort of mesozoic creature, that'd be so cool)

44. I want to get back to using my planner

45. I want to play more (board, card, video, etc.) games with my friends

46. I want to disassociate less and be present in the real world more often

47. I want to be more informed about what is going on both in general, but especially in my more immediate environment

48. I want to take up better drawing habits (more life drawing, warm ups, breaks, etc.)

49. I want to try a real goddamn piña colada, bonus points if it's on the beach

50. I want to try existing in a portable living situation, like a renovated bus or van, for a while

51. I want to learn basic wilderness survival skills

52. I want to learn how to identify many different species of all types of organisms, especially plants and animals

53. I want to get my vehicle fixed up nice and maybe hand paint some things on it

54. I want to learn more about different cultures because they're fascinating and I want to be as respectful of all people as I possibly can be

55. I want to paint the waterfall jungle mural of my dreams in my future house

56. I want to gain better control of my emotions and my responses to them

57. I want to fabricate a working pair of wings for human beings

58. I want to learn/do more embroidery

59. I want to get a cerulean blue Corvette stingray

60. I want to get better about not procrastinating

61. I want to go to more events/be more involved wherever I am

62. I want to go for more walks to places I haven't been to before, bonus points if it's in the middle of the night and/or in the rain

63. I want to do things like play in inflatable obstacle courses and ride on roller coasters without caring about whether other people judge me for doing those things as an adult

64. I want to regain the physical strength I have lost from being sedentary while my mental health has been at its lowest

65. I want to spend more time laying in the sunshine, preferably with the bare minimum of clothes on because I enjoy the warmth on my skin

66. I want to cuddle more with others that feel comfortable enough to participate in that with me

67. I want to learn more about the fabrication of clothing and design/make some outfits for myself

68. I want to cosplay, maybe go to a convention sometime

69. I want to go skinny dipping >:3 (look, it's number 69 on the list, okay?)

70. I want to try all sorts of foods I've never had before

71. I want to see a butterfly leaving its cocoon in real life again

72. I want to read more of the books I own

73. I want to be kissed by someone again...it's been over 4 years...

74. I want to eliminate my habit of requiring a Youtube gaming playlist to be playing in order for me to fall asleep

75. I want to learn more about the history of the lgbtqia2s+ community

76. I want to learn how to cook for myself better, and like, actually use those skills on a regular basis

77. I want to learn how to take care of my vehicle better on my own, like how to change a tire and such

78. I want to learn to communicate better, and just, in general how to be the best friend I can be

79. I want to stop using all substances for the purpose of drowning out my surroundings and messing with my temporal senses, if I'm going to drink/smoke/get high/whatever, I want it to be because I want to for fun, not because I want the chemicals to take the edge off my mental illness(es)

80. I want to start taking better care of my dental hygiene

81. I want to learn more about my legal rights and finances and other "adult" stuff that doesn't really get taught to you unless you specifically go looking for it

82. You know the somewhat obnoxious game Bop It? Yeah, I want one of those again, keeps me entertained for a long time

83. I want to design more things in general, more characters and their outfits and personalities and the worlds they live in, I enjoy that

84. I want to spend more time outdoors with my friends, watch sunsets and collect miscellaneous objects from the universe and such

85. I want to teach someone something, sit down and maybe teach someone how I draw or about something that I am at least somewhat knowledgeable about

86. I want to go to more aquariums; if/when I travel more I want to go to every aquarium I come across

87. I want to start a legit collection of something and like, build it up over a long period of time so it gets pretty impressive

88. I want to get my eyes surgically corrected so I don't have to wear glasses or fiddle with contacts

89. I want to learn more about Greek and Latin roots and just words and symbolism in general

90. I want to lose the embarrassment I have about my hyperfixations because I deserve to not feel ashamed of the things that bring me satisfaction and joy, and it's okay if other people don't share my enthusiasm about such things, I just want to learn to not be embarrassed that I like stuff

91. I want to get over my fears/discomfort re: nudity, especially for life drawing classes; see, it's one thing to see someone nude and divert my eyes but for life drawing I'm kinda forced to look...

92. I want to understand myself better and learn to love me instead of the opposite; I want to be full of love for the beautiful people around me and I want to really solidify in my brain that I am one of those beautiful people

93. I want to do more things for others that are meaningful because that makes me happy, and I want to learn to do those things while also respecting everyone's, including my own, boundaries

94. I want to develop a sleep schedule that is healthy and appropriate, and that I'm able to maintain

95. I want to run in the rain more often and jump in puddles (edit: while typing this it started storming out and I had to run outside in my bunny pajama short-shorts, winter boots, and a sweatshirt, to grab my box of silly plant seed experiments before they blew away, so progress is already being made)

96. I want to get over my intense fear of making phone calls

97. I want to learn how to sing better with my new and improved deeper voice from being on Testosterone

98. I want to get my first tattoo fixed up and hopefully renew the meaning it had to me at the time that I got it -- I want to try to keep that promise

99. I want to spend more time actively working on improving my mental health

100. I want to see more, I want to learn more, I want to do more, I want to be the version of myself that is genuinely amazed and curious by all manner of things, and I know that part of me is still there

And now, once you've finished your list, you have 100 reasons to not give up, because there's no way of knowing what you're capable of doing if you don't exist to try.