#it's so exhausting to be in pain 24 hours a day
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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 2 days ago
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M’kay, I’m wondering how would period sex with Vampire Steven Jake and Marc be like? Anything you want, but if this ask makes you feel uncomfortable, it is totally understandable! 💋
I'm okay with that! <3
I'm so sorry it took me a millenial to finish.
Period sex with the Vampire Moon boys:
Cw/triggers: Smut, nsfw, blood, oral(f! receiving).
A/n: Okay I will say this: Vampires + Period = a pretty cruel combination.
Of course the boys hate it when you're in pain every month but its safe to say they just can't turn off their needs and especially not when it involves blood. You basically have them to keep you clean, and they can get to feed too.
Jake
You're pretty much doomed if he senses you're about to get them. Literally smells you ovulating a mile away. Has no self control especially when he just got back from hunting, being all exhausted. Then he remembers you being on period and gets hungry on spot again.
The first thing Jake usually does is fingering you, getting you prepared before diving down to lap away at your already overstimulated pussy so he can get some feeding done while at it.
He enjoys giving you orgasm after orgasm with his mouth before giving you the final one with his cock. You're a whining mess after Jake would be done with you.
In the end, he just licks his lips, satisfied with himself and his achievement.
Steven
He already starts getting suspicious when you're having an eating urge days before you're about to get your period.
Smells it the second your ovulation starts.
Good lord have mercy on you when you're having them and Steven is around. Not that he's worse than Jake or Marc, but he is a goddamn enjoyer when it comes to eating you out. He doesn't care about the blood, he would gladly spend hours dipping his tongue into you no matter how messy he gets.
Steven this absolute madman will only stop if you're begging him, otherwise he'd lose himself in it and spend half a day down on you.
It really helps him when he gets hungry. He wouldn't want it all to go to waste.
Wants you to have your heating bottle on your belly, especially if they're strong. Has a towel underneath you to prevent a mess.
Steven read about orgasms soothing your cramps, so it should be a win-win. You should expect to be immobilized for atleast some time. He wants to help you after all.
Marc
He kind of has your cycle memorized, and if he catches the familiar scent of you ovulating, he gets excited!!
The moment you get them, he prepares the towel and heating bottle for you. Then before you could ask what he's doing, he already has you spread out for him, his arms slung over your thighs, gently preventing escape.
He is used to get bloody, so you bleeding isn't doing anything to him. Blood is blood to him.
Marc pretty much does this almost everyday to you. The more orgasms you get, the less pain you have. You should thank him.
He's similar to Steven, eating you out until you're begging him to stop. But even then, squeezes another one out of you with his cock.
If he is really feral he wouldn't bother with any preparation, getting you into the bathroom so he can feast undisturbed. Way easier to clean up too.
After he's done with you, your muscles definitely need a break.
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@nekoyin @iolaussharpe-24 @steven-grants-world @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @buckyssugarchick
@krakenkitty @mochiitoby @alexxavicry @silvernight-m
Wanna get tagged?
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I would really like drug interactions to specify whether drugs interact because:
They do the same thing so it's like taking double the dose at once
vs
2. They do opposite things or react in some way chemically in a way that's dangerous because of more than the dose
Because there are times when you benefit from taking more than one kind of nsaid or more than one kind of anti-histamine and it would be really cool to know whether the reason listed not to take them together is "well you would be taking a double dose :(" VS "well it could stop your heart :)" like...
Normally medications do so little for me at all that it isn't worth taking one let alone mixing anything, but I do not have good access to a doctor about this right now and my immune system is currently trying to eat my joints and muscles. There are lots of medications doctors would advise me to mix in the circumstance if I was in their office and they knew what was happening.
"dose related sedation" because it's like taking 2 or "you could bleed more easily, because it's like taking 2 aspirin at once!" is not the same as like "Well one makes your blood pressure high and the other makes you veins stiff and prone to tearing" You know?
I have been mixing ibuprofen and aspirin for over 3 days now and just making sure I'm only taking half the maximum of each... Because it's the only thing that's letting me move my body. I do not recommend doing this, but I would like more information about how they interact than just "well they both thin your blood so..."
Like idiot proofing against people thinking they can take 2 of EACH kind of nsaid without that being the same as popping 10 aspirin at once, is not the same thing as like "mixing these is actively harmful in any amount"... and I -really- feel like the drug information that comes with the medications should specify.
The symptoms have spread to my whole body btw... but my biceps feel better, now it's my joints that are bad, all my joints, all at once.
I switches from the loratadine to benydril because it's more recommended for addressing autoimmune or MCAS attacks, and it helped my muscles so much... But now my joints are so so bad, and I don't know if it's because of how this is progressing, if my immune system switched targets, or if the different antihistamines are better at defending different tissues.
Next I try loratadine in the morning [noonish dose] and the benydril at the night time dose [midnight-ish], I did not really try that yet but when I switched between the two nothing bad happened. I didn't even get sleepy?? Antihistamines aren't even making me sleepy now, even benydril??
I need to be able to use my muscles and joints enough to get groceries and go to 2 medical appointments this week for unrelated things. I can barely move and there is no one to help me.
It's still acting more like it's autoimmune than infection. I don't have a fever. I don't think I am having cognitive symptoms rn. But these attacks can last for months. Months. Alone. with a cat who won't just eat kibble because it isn't wet food with gravy T~T
And if I go to the hospital about it they will 1. ignore me and laugh in my face again, and 2. expose me to corona which will make this worse
And I AM going to be a giant baby about it because I am not used to this anymore and I am not used to it being in my hands and legs so fucking bad.
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reminem69 · 10 months ago
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God I wanna cry
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niuniente · 3 months ago
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Oh wow, I knew I was really sick with the anemia but I never realized just HOW sick I was. Feels like I was living like a zombie in a body bag with only 10% access to the world.
I didn't expect anemia to affect my eyesight this much! I have been admiring colors around my for days and I just can't stop admiring them. The first day back at home I walked around my apartment looking at all the postcards and posters on my walls, because they were so bright and vibrant. Even a candle light looked brighter! I went to my favorite café afterwards to celebrate this milestone and I never realized how brightly green their plants are and how beautiful the café's plates are, too.
Other things I have noticed with the improved iron levels:
I fall asleep in 5-10 minutes when I'm sleepy instead of tossing with insomnia for 3-5 hours.
I sleep really well and soundly, and have lots of dreams which is always a good sign for me.
I don't sweat as much and as easily anymore.
My mysterious anxiety, bad mood and feelings of doom (which are not who I am!) which have been looming on the background for 24/7 and never left no matter what I did are almost all gone. Digestion and traveling still causes some anxiety but I can live with that.
My natural walking speed is a lot faster.
My heart isn't trying to kill me when I get up stairs to my apartment.
I'm REALLY happy and excited 24/7, even when I'm tired! That's who I am! I feel like a fast and luxurious Ferrari when it comes to my mood and excitement for life!
Breathing is easier, even when resting/sitting.
I have energy to clean the house, for example I have done dishes daily without issues. Starting something isn't hard anymore.
I can think clearly and my horrible brain fog is gone.
No more restless feet when trying to sleep.
I'm not exhausted 24/7 for no reason but I can actually do things that I like and I enjoy of them (before they exhausted me, too, like watching something).
My body doesn't ache 24/7 as much as it used to.
Period pains are easier.
I think that my appetite has improved a bit and there's less of nausea.
I can't wait for the time when I can live like this every day! <3
P.S. I've been a bit sleepier than normal but in a good way like "Ah, sleep! <3 I love sleeping!" I don't know if it's a side effect from the treatment or is it because my body finally gets a chance to rest for real, and it's catching up with the years of loss of a proper rest.
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loveanddeepthroat · 4 months ago
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Hiii :3 not sure if you take requests for the other lads boys, but I love the way youu write and wondered if we could get some Zayne fluff 👉🏽👈🏽 Maybe like start of a relationship and mc gets her period unexpectedly when staying at his and gets super insecure about it and tries to go home but Zayne is concerned about her suddenly wanting to leave and finally gets the reason out of her, but he’s just super helpful and eases her worries. Thank you, love your blog!
The Bare Minimum
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Pairing - Zayne x f!MC
Summary - You feel as though your world is ending when a day dedicated to some much needed time with Zayne is ruined by Mother Nature. You're desperate to get home without him noticing, but he was more prepared for this than you expected.
Word Count - 2.7k
Warnings - Multiple mentions of periods and blood.
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You weren’t sure what was suddenly bothering you, but you were certain that it was catching Zayne’s attention.
It was one of those extremely rare occasions where both of you had a completely free weekend. No hunting, no surgeries, no plans.
Perfection. 
You were both at the very peak of your designated lazy Saturday—squished together on the recliner chair in his living room, eating takeout and watching the kind of TV shows that didn’t require too much attention. Between your impromptu make out sessions that consistently progressed into you straddling his legs, you weren’t even sure what was playing on the television. 
You were just happy to be with him in such an unusual setting for the both of you. A typical day where you were both blessed with synced schedules would be spent outdoors. Long, scenic walks. Trips to the library to pick up and return a few books. You dragging Zayne around the local mall against his will.
Neither of you were up for any of it this weekend. Your missions for the past few weeks had been exhausting, a few ending in swift trips to Akso for wounds that had looked worse than they had felt. Between Zayne’s concern for you and the demanding nature of his own job, he was feeling rather exhausted, too. He didn’t often indulge in lazy days, but you were pretty sure he just wanted to keep you cocooned in the safety of his home after seeing you injured one too many times.
After your fifth rather raunchy performance on his lap, you were feeling oddly uncomfortable. You put it down to aches and pains due to the exertion of your body recently, but even as you settled back beside him again, tucked under his heavy arm, you could feel the sensation creeping down your thighs and across your back.
It couldn’t possibly be that dreaded time of the month. You had another five days to go before you had to come up with reasons to not stay at his place for a week. Your relationship was still fresh and new, so you weren’t comfortable with the idea of being on your period whilst staying the night. There wasn’t a clear reason why you’d be so conscious about it, it wasn’t as if Zayne would chastise you for your womanly troubles.
For you though, it just felt a little too nerve wracking. Discarding sanitary products in his bathroom wastebasket. The possibility of leaking whilst you’re blissfully unaware in the land of sleep. And the most horrifying of all;
Your cramps.
Mother Nature was never kind to you in the first 24 hours of your cycle. There were many a day and night where you couldn’t unfurl yourself from the foetal position you would so quickly find yourself in. Mood swings, hot flushes, and an need for all things sugary and sweet.
Zayne didn’t need to see that side of you yet. The poor man would wonder where the hell his girlfriend had disappeared to, and why there was an emotional, writhing mess clutching a XXL tub of mint chocolate chip to her chest in her place.
As the minutes went by, you felt all of the familiar warning signs. His arm around you had been soothing and sweet all day, but was starting to feel like a furnace on your skin. The unmistakable feeling of the devil himself twisting your uterus with his bare hands was becoming stronger, and your squirming was drawing attention.
“Would you like me to move?” Zayne finally asked, brows slightly furrowed in your direction.
You had to get away from him. More so, you had to get off of the recliner, worried that if you were bleeding, you might have bled through to it.
Shaking your head quickly, you pulled yourself up to your feet, subtly eyeing the thankfully pristine spot where your ass had been perched all day. “No, of course not,” you reassured with a synthetic smile. “Just have to use the bathroom.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly hurried away before he had the chance. There was no time to waste.
As soon as the lock on the bathroom door clicked, you rushed to check yourself. The sight of fresh blood on the stark white toilet paper made you want to cry immediately. Of all the times for you to get your period five days early, it had to be whilst you were at Zayne’s.
You were at a complete loss on what you could do. You didn’t have any sanitary towels to hand, and your light grey sweatpants had succumbed to a slight stain that he may have already seen.
If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole, it’d be a miracle.
Silent panic turned to tears of frustration. All you could do was wrap a wad of toilet paper around itself to act as a makeshift pad, and steer clear of Zayne. Thankfully, you hadn’t yet unpacked the gym bag you brought for the weekend, so swiftly grabbing it and legging it back to your own apartment should be easy enough.
You cleaned yourself up as best as you could and flushed away all evidence of your period, trying to compose yourself whilst you did. The sheer level of agony your cramps were already bestowing upon you had you almost doubling over at the sink as you splashed some cold water onto your face to rid yourself of your tears.
This had to be a nightmare.
A gentle tapping on the bathroom door almost startled a small scream out of you. Zayne’s soothing voice sounded from the hallway, “everything alright in there?”
Things were getting worse and worse by the damn minute. You couldn’t possibly get by him to retrieve your bag without him seeing your ridiculous tears and the evident pain you were in.
“Yeah,” you called out, your shaky voice betraying you.
He remained silent for a moment, clearly not convinced in the slightest. “What’s the matter?”
You weren’t getting away from this. He knew something was up, and he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence. It wasn’t in his nature to just feign ignorance, especially when it came to your health or comfort.
“Nothing,” you called out again, hoping to whichever god was listening that he would just accept your answer.
Another bout of silence hung in the air, like he was trying to figure you out through a closed door. You were beginning to feel like a cornered animal, desperate for a route of escape.
You waited and waited for him to say something else, but you heard absolutely nothing. A small sigh of relief escaped you as you quietly opened the door, only to find him still standing there. You quickly tried to shut it again, but his foot took place in the small gap to stop you.
Not wanting to jam his foot, you gave up, folding your arms around yourself as if they were going to hide you. “I need to go home,” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze.
He nudged the door open with his socked foot, still saying nothing. You could feel him analysing you from head to toe. 
He was such a bloody doctor sometimes.
Eventually, he folded his own arms across his chest. “Why do you want to go home?”
“Need to go home,” you corrected, not wanting him to think that you didn’t want to spend the night with him. “I…I have to—”
He cut you off with an outstretched hand, waiting expectantly for you to take it. All you did was stare at it, confused by his intentions. 
Well, you also winced as Mother Nature gave you a swift boot to the abdomen.
“Can you come with me for a moment?” He asked in that gentle tone of his, eyes softening. “Please?”
You took his large hand with a small sigh, not seeing any other way out of this situation. Heat pooled in your cheeks in your sheer embarrassment. 
This wasn’t how your weekend together was supposed to go.
Zayne led you into the bedroom, letting go of your hand once you were both inside. Panic flashed in your mind as you couldn’t think of any reason why he would bring you into the bedroom.
“I really can’t—”
He turned away before you could finish your sentence, heading into the en-suite bathroom and reappearing with a small wicker basket.
You almost gasped at its contents as he approached you again.
Pads and tampons of every shape and size were nestled within, along with painkillers and heating pads for your back. You eyed multipacks of brand new, comfortable underwear in there, too, and some small plastic bags to dispose of your sanitary products.
You weren’t sure if it was just the beginnings of your expected emotional rollercoaster, or the innocent way he was holding it out to you, but you burst into very pathetic, blubbering tears. 
He quickly placed the basket down on the bed, holding your waist with his hands. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry, did I get the wrong—”
You quickly shook your head, dragging your forearm across your eyes to diminish your tears. “No. No, I’m sorry,” you reassured him. “I’m sorry. I just—did you buy all of that?”
“I did,” he said quietly, looking a tad bit sheepish. “I didn’t know which ones would be best for you, so I asked a female assistant—”
“You asked someone?” You were in disbelief. He’d gone to the store, looked like a lost sheep in the sanitary products aisle, and asked a clerk to help choose some options for you.
“I realise now that I should’ve asked you, instead.”
You shook your head again. “No, I’m not chastising you, Zayne. I’m…I’m hugely impressed—in awe, in fact.”
Zayne frowned at you, evidently puzzled. “Impressed? Is this not what a boyfriend typically does? I didn’t do anything special.”
Little did he know, he actually had. 
You were certain that you weren’t the only woman on the planet who had previously been made to feel inferior or shamed by others in regards to your period. 
There were so many instances where men—and even the occasional woman had mentioned it as a way of insult. Must be her time of the month. Time for someone to change their tampon. 
Once, you had accidentally pulled a pad out of your bag instead of your notepad in the middle headquarters, and every last one of your male colleagues avoided you for the remainder of the week. It was as if you were infected with a disease that would kill them.
Finding yourself standing before the exception was a shock to your system. A good shock. 
A real gentleman. 
You felt your eyes well up again. Tears of fear and worry had become tears of contentment. Finally, for once in your life, you were comfortable in the presence of a man during your cycle.
“I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed here whenever you stay,” he explained further.
“I love you,” you simply whispered back, a small smile curling your lips.
He still looked thoroughly perplexed at your reaction, like this shouldn’t have been something that was happening to you for the first time. Like every other man you’d ever come across will have treated you the way he has.
“I love you, too,” he said, cupping your face with his large, gentle hand. “Were you really going to leave?”
You nodded guiltily, feeling a little silly about your initial freak out. Something had been healed within your soul by his nonexistent judgement of your cycle, and even if he didn’t understand it, you were so very lucky and grateful to have a man like him.
He brushed away some of the damp streaks on your cheek with his thumb. “I don’t want you to go, but if you want to—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Good. We have more episodes of Love Hospital to watch.”
“I thought we were watching Police Passion?”
He blew out a short laugh before dropping a tender kiss to your smiling lips. It made your heart feel warm and full, a feeling you never wanted to let go of.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said before taking his leave.
You took the wicker basket of supplies into the en-suite, the smile on your face not wavering as you studied it. He’d even put a rather pricey bottle of body wash in there for you, the description on the label claiming that its contents would soothe and relax you with scents of chamomile and jasmine. 
Everything was so tidily placed inside, a true reflection on how much he actually cared about your needs. Even a single incorrect pack of sanitary towels kept somewhere in the bathroom would have been enough for you to know that you didn’t need to be uncomfortable with him, but he’d made an effort. 
A serious effort that he saw as the bare minimum.
After picking out the best suited candidate in the sea of pads and tampons, you got yourself showered and sorted into fresh pyjamas from your bag. The cramping in your stomach started to bother you as soon as you finished getting changed, so you fished around in the basket for the unopened box of ibuprofen and a heating pad for the seizing muscles in your back.
Once you’d emerged from the bedroom, Zayne was nowhere to be seen in the living room. The area around the recliner you had both been lounging in all day was cleared and tidy, not an empty takeout carton or half drunk cup of tea in sight.
Making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found him steeping a mug of raspberry leaf tea to aid your cramping. You quietly grabbed a clean glass to fill with water, popping two capsules of ibuprofen into your hand to take.
Zayne glanced at the clock to memorise what time you were taking this dose, in case you required another later on. “How are you feeling?”
You smiled softly at him. Despite the storm of misery striking through your body, you still had a reason to smile.
“Happy,” you murmured sincerely. “Despite the devil himself tearing away at my insides.”
He offered a small smile of sympathy back, pulling the sopping teabag out of your mug of tea to discard it. “Do you need anything else? I can go out if there’s anything you want,” he offered sincerely, not at all troubled by the idea of you needing anything more from him.
Good lord did you love this man.
“Just you, please,” you requested, wanting nothing more than to just cuddle back up with him until the painkillers kicked in.
He obliged your request immediately, picking up the steaming mug of tea with one hand and slipping your hand into the other to lead you back out to the recliner. Before you could seat yourself in the little gap beside him, he gently pulled you onto his lap.
You couldn’t help the little flash of panic that shot through you at the thought of sitting on him during your period, but he clearly didn’t care. His hands just got straight to work with the heating pad, placing it where you needed it the most.
The rest of the evening was spent with Zayne giving you some luxuriously soothing back rubs to ease the pain—which had quickly been alleviated thanks to the ibuprofen and tea—followed by your regularly scheduled make out sessions whenever his hands started to wander. There wasn’t an ounce of bother in him whenever he turned you to straddle his lap, his all time favourite place to have you. 
He wasn’t bothered by anything when it came to taking care of you.
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A/N: Thank you so much for sending in a request, anon! I adore Zayne so it was nice to have a prompt for my first oneshot for him. 🩵
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misscammiedawn · 4 months ago
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Time Loops and Dissociation
CW: suicidal ideation, glitchy unreality, overt depictions of self-harm, parental abandonment
This essay contains full game spoilers for In Stars and Time.
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You wake up to your alarm at the same time every day. The same view greets you from your window. Same sheets. Same outfits in your closet to get dressed in. Same choice of drinks in your kitchen to put in the same choice of cups. Same 24 hours but a different day. What better way to capture the existential horror of disconnecting from the world than to simply take away the words "but a different day" and make it the same 24 hours.
Time Loop fiction likes to capture the monotony of being caught in a rut. For some stories, like Groundhog Day, the rut could be that of not working on one’s self and accepting the eternal trappings of a never ending moment and not seeking change. For others, like Palm Springs, it is the conflict within a romantic relationship between one partner wishing to grow and find new experience while another wishes to remain in the safety of the known. Others still, like All You Need Is Kill, the conflict is a matter of maintaining one's optimism and drive in a hopeless fight against an antagonistic force that will crush their spirit upon the weight of eternity.
The constants in this genre are the forces of change and stagnation. Exit can be accomplished via self-improvement, it can be accomplished by having the bravery to risk leaving safety, it can be accomplished by killing every last time looping alien until you’re the only one left. But the allegories are always there. Tomorrow can only be attained by growing beyond Today. Change doesn’t happen in a day and as those stuck in a time loop know… a day can be an impossibly long time. And what does a person do during that impossibly long time? Repeating the same acts over and over again, where people become predictable and all the complexity of life has been stripped down until there’s nothing but cold empty and predictable monotony? You dissociate.
Dissociating is the experience of detaching from reality. Dissociation encompasses the feeling of daydreaming or being intensely focused, as well as the distressing experience of being disconnected from reality. In this state, consciousness, identity, memory, and perception are no longer naturally integrated. Dissociation often occurs as a result of stress or trauma, and it may be indicative of a dissociative disorder or other mental health condition.(*)
Every time loop story inevitably includes a segment where the pain of going around and around becomes simply too much to handle and the audience must witness the protagonist's mental health decline in real time. It is the moment in the story when they no longer feel able to connect with other humans, when they disconnect and just succumb to the weight of the eternity that they are trapped within. For most the idea of being stuck in a rut is a horrific thing. People are a social species. We seek connection and we seek change. We actively want to grow. But this is not true for everyone. Some are so scared and scarred by the world that they dare not ruin the safety that they have managed to find. Narrowing one's world down to avoid conflict and danger is a common feature in Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, particularly in those with a tendency to freeze in the face of their emotional triggers.
The flight-freeze type avoids potential relationship-retraumatization with an obsessivecompulsive/dissociative “two-step.” Step one is working to complete exhaustion. Step two is collapsing into extreme “veging out”, and waiting until [their] energy reaccumulates enough to relaunch into step one. The price for this type of no-longer-necessary safety is a severely narrowed existence. - (Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving - Pete Walker)
And that is the heart of any time loop. Safety at the price of a narrow existence.
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For this essay I want to talk about a piece of media that masterfully manages the time loop dilemma while managing to depict a remarkably strong representation of Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Today I want to talk about In Stars and Time. Because if I'm gonna highlight a time loop story for my essays on dissociative disorders then I'm going to do the one which has a "Press X to dissociate" mechanic.
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In Stars and Time is an RPG Maker game in the stylings of Earthbound and Final Fantasy. The star of the play game is Siffrin (he/they), a silly little one who tells light-hearted puns and has their tongue stuck out in a :3 cat face smile.
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As the thief type of the party he leads the group through dungeons to deactivate traps and find keys he can sometimes be bad at his job. They have managed to help the team get to the final dungeon and take on The King who has managed to freeze most of the nation of Vaugarde in time. Their adventuring friends are Mirabelle (she/her), the housemaiden; Isabeau (he/him), the fighter; Odile (she/her), the researcher; and Bonnie (they/them), the kid. Siffrin finds themselves trapped within a time loop. Reliving the same 2 day period as the party make their approach to The King and must defeat him to release Vaugarde from being eternally frozen in time. The game speaks frankly and kindly on many topics beyond mental health and trauma. Among the many rare and beautiful things it organically depicts it has an asexual and an aromantic discussing society's pressure to enter relationships and perform intimate acts, a trans masc discussing the destructive and yet necessary process of transitioning and two expats discussing how difficult it is to integrate their cultural roots (or lack thereof) with the values and expectations of the dominant culture of their new environment. Keep that last one in your back pocket for now. It'll be important for later. This is the last chance to check the game out unspoiled and so if anything I have said intrigues enough then please buy the game (Steam - Switch - Playstation 4 - Playstation 5 - GOG - Itch.io) and enjoy it. The game is about 20 hours at a casual pace (WR speedrun is 2.5 hours) and it has much in the way of hidden conversations and content that can help a person stick around and dig deep to find all the content in the game (but watch out). Go with my blessing and check DoesTheDogDie for content warnings if needed. For those who have played or want to read on into spoiler territory, then please forgive my long-windedness. I've too much time on my hands and have not cultivated the skills or talent to present this as a video for passive enjoyment. Let's begin. The game is split into 6 acts so in the interests of not bombarding with information. Shall we follow suit?
Act 1 - The Stage
The curtain rises and the play begins. Act 1 makes up the first loop from Siffrin's perspective. If not for the time loops then this would be a very short adventure. Siffrin wakes up from a nap in a field as they will every single loop from now on. They are in the final town before the enemy stronghold, one final day to rest and gather their strength and resolve to save the country. The group's leader, Mirabelle, has decided to have a sleepover. One final day, one final dungeon, one final fight... and then it's all over. The world will finally be saved. It'll all be over... Siffrin spends the day speaking to their friends, making a wish on the local Favor Tree to spend time with an ally after the adventure and then it's on to the adventure. Isabeau has something he wants to tell Siffrin but decides it can wait until they have saved the world. Entering the house and moving through the first few rooms all seems to be going well. The party of friends beat their first few enemies and Siffrin is sent to check for traps in a corridor leading into the main areas of the house. He checks and checks and checks and doesn't find anything so...
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The trap is activated by feeling safe.
For clarity I wish to say much of the analysis and discussion is our personal read of the plot. Before writing this essay we reached out to insertdisc5 to ask about how they approached depicting mental illness in the game and they responded that it was not a matter of research as she was worried about checking off boxes rather than depicting authentic experience. Which makes it all the more impressive that the game was able to depict so many aspects of Complex PTSD so seamlessly. From Walker's book the primary symptoms of CPTSD are:
Emotional Flashbacks Tyrannical Inner &/or Outer Critic Toxic Shame Self-Abandonment Social anxiety Abject feelings of loneliness and abandonment Fragile Self-esteem Attachment disorder Developmental Arrests Relationship difficulties Radical mood vacillations Dissociation via distracting activities or mental processes Hair-triggered fight/flight response Oversensitivity to stressful situations Suicidal Ideation
Over the course of the game Siffrin displays many, if not all of these. One of the core conflicts of the game is Siffrin's feelings of loneliness and abandonment as well as their inner critic and toxic shame.
Another common trait of those with C-PTSD not referenced in the above list is a sensitive startle reflex. It is mentioned in the same book at a later point, however:
A startle response is the sudden full body-flinching that survivors experience at loud noises or unanticipated physical contact. This is usually a somatic flashback to previous abuses.
I bring this all up now because Siffrin's first death. The cause of the first loop. HIS FIRST FAILURE. Was because he let his guard down. He felt safe for even a moment. This is not a reading or something which can be brought up for debate. On floor two of the house there is a book that explains the traps and speaks of the boulder that landed on Siffrin's head earlier:
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Throughout the entire adventure Siffrin will have the toxic and universe validated belief that if they ever drop their guard, even for a single moment they may die. This belief will only get worse as they progress, unfortunately. For those with Complex PTSD they walk through life in a state of hyper-vigilance. Never quite feeling safe. Siffrin died the moment he let his guard down. [Dawn here. This is turning out to be the longest Media, Myself and I article by a wide margin. For the sake of not destroying everyone's timelines I'll put the rest of the game under a readmore. I would so very much love it if you did click on, though.]
Act 2 - The Performance
The curtain rises and the play begins. Again. Much of Act 2 is spent trying to get to The King and defeat him. Mistakes such as forgetting a key on an earlier floor or taking a wrong path will cause Siffrin to need to loop back. All the while inwardly berating themselves for their carelessness, knowing that in a world without the time loops they would have been trapped and unable to challenge The King at all. We are also introduced to Loop, a star who watches over Siffrin during his journey. Loop is in the time loop with Siffrin and can follow his progress, offer advice and comment on everything. Loop is a little disaffected and likes to play things silly and coy and can be a little mean at times. But they say they're here to help Siffrin. As the adventuring friends climb to the final boss we get to see Siffrin's rapport with the party. Siffrin likes to stay on the sidelines and listen in to other people having animated conversation. Everyone is nervous to touch him having universally come to an understanding that Siffrin does not like to be touched. They make fun of Siffrin's poor memory (another common trait of those with dissociative disorders that we will talk about more in time) and they treat one another warmly. However during a bit of banter in a snack break...
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(source: ISAT Script Project) Note that Siffrin internalizes the comment "we're not friends." instantly. From this point of the game until a latter moment all times that Siffrin's monologue refers to his party the word "friends" is replaced with "allies". They are so sensitive to abandonment and rejection that the they simply accept Odile's words, not even aimed at Siffrin themselves and internalizes them deep enough that the HUD of the game itself changes to accommodate this belief. It was mentioned at the start that Siffrin is a silly traveler who enjoys puns and makes light of most situations. In battles the game uses a Rock, Paper, Scissors weapon triangle and all of Siffrin's attack names are puns. In the profile menu he sticks his tongue out. His battle image is a playfully confident smirk.
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During the game we always have access to Siffrin's inner monologue and can tell how they interpret the world around them but they seldom ever voice their opinions. This allows us to see how often they are convincingly laughing on the outside while hurting on the inside. Siffrin, unable and unwilling to approach their shame and self-loathing and terrified of becoming a burden to their friends allies will deflect whenever he sense that they are hurting.
A person (or dissociative part) may avoid being aware of inner experiences such as feelings or thoughts that might evoke shame. Thus, he or she is not aware of the experience of shame, typically does not acknowledge the negative experience of self, engages in denial, and attempts to distract self and others away from the painful feeling. For example, a person who felt ashamed in therapy might start making jokes or flippantly comment that the session is boring or useless, or he or she might try to change the subject entirely or even switch to another part that has a different agenda. The experience becomes neutral or positive; shame may be disowned or denied, or overridden with joy or excitement in distracting activities (joking around, talking about something else). There is little to no awareness of shame or one’s shameful actions, faults, or characteristics. The motivation is to minimize the conscious experience of shame or to prove that one does not feel shame. - (Coping With Trauma Related Dissociation - Suzette Boon, Kathy Steele, Onno van der Hart)
The other key thing we have come to learn about how others perceive Siffrin is their memory issues. Memory issues are a constant part of dissociative disorders with a lack of childhood memories being a key feature in Complex Dissociative Disorders such as Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder and Dissociative Identity Disorder. If I am being honest about my motivations for writing this essay, while playing it I keyed in on the lack of memories early and assumed it to be an allegory for such trauma. Even made a Tumblr post stating this. On the top floor of the house of change in a secret room and only during Act 2 there is a bit of dialogue where Siffrin speaks about their childhood.
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This was the moment we knew we needed to write about this game. What is missing from the text above is that when Siffrin stammers on their words there is a time loop effect. The first one in the game that is activated by something other than a death or the natural end of the loop. Siffrin edits out this conversation so that not even he can remember it.
Amnesia goes far beyond normal forgetfulness. It involves serious memory problems that are not caused by illness or extreme fatigue, by alcohol or other mind-altering substances, or normal forgetting. Amnesia falls on a continuum. People with a dissociative disorder may recall some aspects of an event but not other essential parts of it. In some cases all memory for certain events is unavailable for conscious recall. Some people with a dissociative disorder describe their memory as being like “Swiss cheese holes,” “foggy,” or “full of black holes.” They may suspect that something happened, or may have even been told by others that something happened to them, but have no personal recollection of events and often feel afraid to think about them. People may have amnesia for longer periods of time during which normal life events took place, for example, a person may report being unable to remember anything from the fifth grade, or from ages 9–12. - (Coping With Trauma Related Dissociation - Suzette Boon, Kathy Steele, Onno van der Hart)
Instinctive use of time travel to edit out parts of a conversation that a perspective character does not wish to accept or confront is a fantastic allegory for how dissociative symptoms manifest. When a person or dissociative part stumbles too close to a severe trauma trigger. To speak from personal experience it is a moment where in a conversation a question comes up and the answer feels wrong in your mouth. Like you just lied. But you know you didn't intend to lie... so of course you interrogate the piece of information and the wall of confusion that hits can make a person feel truly powerless. Like you're not even certain of what you are saying anymore and a mixture of shame and fear flood in and tell you to stop talking, stop lying, stop exaggerating, stop speaking, stop, stop, STOP. Poor Siffrin shouldn't have their memory made fun of. But... his friends allies don't know. Do they? How could they? Siffrin doesn't speak up and when he does it tends to be a showy performance of being light hearted and silly so no one can see how hurt he is. Because if he does try to be honest... well. You saw what happened when they tried to open up. Through hard work and persistence the allies loop enough times to gain the knowledge and strength to win against The King. The King's first attack will force the allies to see a vision of the future and without a special magic shield will kill them in a single strike. Siffrin stays determined and prepares his allies. Helps them become stronger. Helps them win. The world is saved. Everyone in Vaugarde is released from the time freezing spell... But something's wrong... Siffrin is given a chance to talk to everyone as they all happily speak about what they'll do now that the country is saved but no matter what happens. Isabeau attempts to confess the thing that he wished to tell Siffrin if they won but is interrupted before he can get the words out, much to Siffrin's annoyance. The world is safe. All is well. It shall return to normal soon enough... only thing to do is speak with the head housemaiden and accept the praise and thanks for all the hard effort in saving Vaugarde... Then world starts to fall apart and... The second act comes to an abrupt close.
Act 3 - Family and Culture
The curtain rises and the play begins continues. The loop begins with Siffrin back at the start, even though the day was saved. Simply killing The King must not be enough. There must be a reason that the loops are continuing, even after Vaugarde is saved. The only way to understand is to find out more about why The King is able to freeze the country in time and if it has anything to do with why Siffrin can loop back. Speaking with Loop, Siffrin recognizes that as long as there are ideas and leads to explore then giving up is not going to happen. Loop seems reluctant to encourage Siffrin to continue, in fact Loop seems doesn't appear surprised by the time loop continuing at all. Loop is an interesting character and deserves an article unto themselves. We should focus on Siffrin right now.
Their first order of business is to attempt the Golden End exit route. It worked for Bill Murray, why not in this situation? Simply work out a way to make everyone have a perfect loop. Saving the world isn't enough. Siffrin can solve everyone's problems. Here we learn that Bonnie, the kid, harbors a deep well of shame for allowing Siffrin to be blinded in an eye while protecting them earlier in the adventure, before the loops. Siffrin, true to their dissociative nature, did not even remember the event. Siffrin also spends quality time with the adults in the party. Always hoping Isabeau would be brave enough to confess this loop. On this journey up the house of change the team are closer and more caring. No one makes fun of Siffrin for bumping into the counter. Siffrin discovers that the other party members have noticed his breathing exercises. Very helpful for those with dissociative disorders, by the way. They ground the body and allow one to ease somatic symptoms by soothing the nervous system and preventing activated sensations worsening symptoms. As they get closer to The King the warm and familial banter continues with Odile using the word 'friend' out loud. A guarded Siffrin allows themselves to confront Odile on saying that they were not friends (something she did not even say this "Golden" loop) and through an awkward but kind conversation she confesses she, a Too Old For This lady cannot feel comfortable calling a group of people with a pre-teen "friends" but she can perhaps call them "Family" The menu updates. Siffrin's Allies are now Sif's Family Members. This remains true in all the menus no matter what happens in any loop. But in this moment, there is a golden ending. There is joy. Though Isabeau is unwilling to discuss his confession when Sif is feeling vulnerable. They need to have a Feely-Feels talk. Sif hates the idea of a Feely-Feels talk. Yet, even still... In this moment Sif is loved.
Many people with Complex PTSD have attachment wounds from their family of origin. The concept of a found family is common among survivors, particularly in those who choose to go Non-Contact with the family of origin. Others, like Sif, have lost their family to tragedy and simply have no roots to return to. The role of a chosen family is vital in the healing journey. Survivors can become aggressively attached to those who they view as chosen family and are often activated by the concept of another loss. The wounds of losing one family enough to have massive impact on how the survivor handles relationships going forward. It is why unstable relationships is listed as a symptom of CPTSD and why there is such a big overlap of CPTSD and BPD diagnosis.
There’s no way around the fact that on the journey to finding your chosen family, you will get hurt. People you thought would be there for you will abandon you, people will decide they no longer have the emotional capacity to hold space for you, and… people who made promises to be by your side will betray those promises. That’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just life. Not everyone belongs on our journeys, but… when you find the right people, don’t let go of them. Nurture the relationships, reciprocate the support, and above all, respect the myriad of ways that people can and will show up for you. - (The Role of ‘Chosen Family' in Trauma Recovery - Monika Sudakov)
Sif is desperately attached to the Family Members that they travel with. In many ways the only reason they can endure the time loops is to protect them. Any time there is a prompt which threatens these relationships Sif's monologue insists that they will not abandon the script that ensures their safety and happiness. Yet despite all this power of love and Family, the loops continue. Which is fine. Golden Ending was a long shot anyway. Clearly it has to be related to The King and it's power to stop time. It seems to know the mysterious art of Time Craft. Talking to The King will help. The answers are still attainable and now Sif has a Family. To get the information required to learn about Time Craft and The King one must interact with as many books and items in the house of change as possible. In doing so we learn more about Sif and their history. By this point in the story the concept of croissants has come up a number of times for the party. In the opening town Sif has the option of buying one from a bakery and gives an uncharacteristic scowl. When they are spotted in the house Sif tends to duck out of conversations, not caring to listen to people talk about the pastry he loathes so desperately. He jokes about it and obfuscates but Sif hates croissants. With a burning passion. There is literally a food that can kill him in the game (he is allergic to pineapple and can die on a banana plantain peel) but his ire always turns towards croissants. Croissants are an emotional trigger for Sif. They harbored such a deep hatred of croissants that when, in Act 4, he is pressured to tell everyone what he wished for at the start of the game he says that they wished for croissants to disappear forever. Sif's reactivated trauma is related to croissants. Up until now he had been living his life blissfully unaware of his dissociated experiences and yet a croissant cracked the amnesia barriers that kept him safe and now each time he sees them they cannot help but be reminded of "The Incident". By examining the Silver coin in their inventory a number of times one can see "The Incident", a moment that happened days before the plot began which informs Sif's entire emotional state throughout the game...
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(source: ISAT Script Project) Note the time skip at the tail end of that sequence. Sif was thinking too heavily about the trauma again and skipped time to avoid thinking about it. Dissociative barriers. He literally cannot think about it. The universe won't let him. Sif's home isn't there anymore. In the canon of the game where reality can be rewritten on the whim of a wish, the country that Sif comes from was wiped off of the map and all knowledge and memory of it has been erased, even from those who lived there. Sif's trauma is that he lost his home. His family. Everything and everyone that he ever knew. Through traveling with his family members he has gained a slither of the emotion, comfort, connection and safety that he lost and in being reminded of all that he lost so close to the end of their journey he was reminded he can and will lose it all again and the thought is too terrifying to process. This is the core conflict in Sif's heart for the entire game. The more they interact with memories of the destruction of his homeland the more keenly aware he becomes of the fact that the quest will end and his family will go their separate ways and abandon him. They have no home to return to when this is all done. CPTSD is not currently recognized by the DSM-5. An official diagnostic description can only be found within the ICD-11. On the ICD-11 page for Complex-PTSD there is a specific segment for "Culture Related Features" that reads:
Cultural variation exists in the expression of symptoms of Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. For example, somatic or dissociative symptoms may be more prominent in certain groups attributable to cultural interpretations of the psychological, physiological, and spiritual etiology of these symptoms and of high levels of arousal.
Given the severe, prolonged, or recurrent nature of the traumatic events that precipitate Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, collective suffering and the destruction of social bonds, networks and communities may present as a focal concern or as important related features of the disorder.
For migrant communities, especially refugees or asylum seekers, Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder may be exacerbated by acculturative stressors and the social environment in the host country. - (ICD-11 for Mortality and Morbidity Statistics)
We do not learn much of Sif's culture of origin but we know that they were in tune with The Universe, that they had spiritual aspects that allowed them to use Wish Craft and follow when fate leads. Act 3 is an info gathering quest on The King's motivations and we discover that King and Sif both hail from the same country and have lost all their social bonds, networks and communities and cannot even recreate the specifics of their culture. It has literally been erased. No culprit is ever named for this atrocity but from Act 3 onwards Sif mourns this lack of roots and via the power of the magic that prevents anyone from remembering the country they cannot mention this tragedy to anyone. Though Odile is able to infer it. Odile is also an immigrant to Vaugarde, her mother was from Vaugarde and her father from Ka Bue. Her mother abandoned her and Odile's quest in Vaugarde is to find parts of her history within the foreign land and fill in the parts of her soul that she feels are incomplete from the lack of her mother's presence and history in her life. In Act 3 the two bond over it as part of Odile's "friendquest", in Act 4 and beyond Sif's inner monologue seethes with bitterness and envy for Odile having connections. The initial connection of them both being foreigners in an accepting land caves to the pain of loss that consumes Siffrin whole.
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(source: ISAT Script Project) What's worse is that some of the things that the family members joke at Sif about for being too forgetful to know the words "Kiln" "Pottery Wheel" or "Stuffed Animal" (though they do remember on some loops) become less about silly forgetful Sif letting incidental information slide out of their dissociative mind. It becomes making fun of a person speaking a second language and not having complete mastery over it. By Act 5 Sif has no patience for the playful jabs because they happen every single loop and they hurt. Minimizing is a lot harder in a time loop. Every small moment of tiny pain repeats again and again. Every time Sif bumps their hip on a counter the party laugh at him. Well... except for the time he screamed at them for it... or the time he collapsed into a defeated pile on the floor on the verge of tears. Heaven help me if bumping into a counter hasn't been the last straw to break my facade when the weight is too much to carry. Poor Sif... As Sif learns more about Time Craft and the country that both he and The King come from, Sif starts to gain an understanding of The King's motivations. After losing one country he couldn't bear to risk losing another home. Vaugarde was so kind to him and took him in and he wants it to remain perfect and safe forever. Frozen in time like a photograph. Now that Sif has come to recognize how important his Family Members are to him, they understand. To have people you love and consider Family is so important and the idea of losing that is simply unspeakable. It is a fate worse than the time loops. By now Sif has done the Golden Ending a time or two...
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He understands why The King would do this. The final loop of Act 3 allows Sif to attempt to convince The King not to fight. The pair have attempted to bond over their roots, they have tried to force The Universe to allow them to speak the name of their nation (but it refused to be said) and now Sif wants to try and use understanding. The King agrees. He stops the fight. Asks Sif to come to his side and... Then he freezes the Family Members in time. He understands now that Sif is using Wish Craft to fight him and he cannot win on traditional terms so he decides to carve it into Sif's memory, a reminder of what happens if he continues defying The King's will. He picks up poor little pre-teen BonBon... and FORCES SIFFRIN TO WATCH AS HE CRU-
Act 4 - Shame Spiral
The curtain rises. The play begins continues. And Sif is not okay. They witnessed the game break the well established rule that the kid was not able to be hurt. Even in runs where you lose to The King Bonnie always gets away. The Family will always go out of their way to ensure The Kid survives. It's happened so many times by now one doesn't even think to question it... And the player had to watch. There is no avoiding that event. Sif will lower their guard to speak with The King and offer compassion and trust to someone they thought of as a kindred spirit and no sooner had they laid down their arms for a moment they were punished for it. Brutally. It's the rock again. Feel safe, even for a moment, and it comes crashing down to crush with full weight... only this time it's not the Sif taking the hit. Sif can take all the hits in the world. It was BONNIE. Someone else was crushed because Sif trusted. From this moment on Sif's intrusive thoughts become louder and meaner. Look above at the conversation with Odile about her roots and notice the changes between Act 3's inner monologue and Act 4's. By this point in the story Sif is losing track of how many loops they have gone through. Unless you keep your Memory of Self equipped you will find that any time you loop forwards or backwards the loop counter will jump up by leaps. Sif is so numb to the cycle by now that they're just dissociating through iterations of the time loop. Other times he 'blacks out' bits of time include sleeping at the clocktower. We learn that he never ever sleeps at the tower. He just blacks out and comes to at the house ready for the next run. All Sif can remember is what the player sees. But stuff does happen besides that which we see. It's not just the amount of time that Sif has been in the loops that is causing this degradation of mental health, though. It's the continuous activation taking a toll. When a person is continiously hyperaroused they become disaffected, chronically dissociated and begin experiencing somatic symptoms. Headache, stomach ache, exhaustion with no ability to sleep, hunger without ability to eat. At this point of the story Sif is constantly hungry and is not sleeping at all. The primary cause for this is the attachment trauma being continuously triggered. Where in early acts it was a matter of worry over losing his new family while being reminded constantly of losing his old one, now he is reminded of allowing his family to die because of his actions. The shame spiral claims him and his emotions become wild, even if he is not able to express them outwardly. This level of emotional sensitivity is a primary symptom of Borderline Personality Disorder. The similarities between CPTSD and BPD are enough that much of the discussion around the potential for including CPTSD in the next revision of the DSM centers around whether it should replace or be combined with BPD. The Foundation for CPTSD writes on the topic:
At one-time, complex post-traumatic stress disorder was proposed as an alternate form of borderline personality disorder because of the shared link to severe childhood trauma. The jury is still out to recognize CPTSD as a diagnosis in the DSM, but it is believed that the symptoms and causes of BPD and CPTSD overlap substantially, but it is not warranted to replace one diagnosis with the other or conceptualize CPTSD as a subtype of BPD. Borderline personality disorder and complex post-traumatic stress disorder are commonly found together, with between 25% and 60% of people living with BPD also having CPTSD. Complex post-traumatic stress disorder is listed in the 11th edition of the International Classification of Diseases (ICD-11), and this has spurred research differentiating the two disorders. Evidence suggests that CPTSD and BPD may represent a continuum of the stress response, and both seem to have a component of dissociation involved. The most significant difference between the two diagnoses is when they form. CPTSD typically forms in early childhood, while BPD forms during early adolescence. Having both CPTSD and BPD makes life difficult, to say the least. - (CPTSD Foundation)
BPD is a personality disorder categorized by attachment wounds. Part of the diagnostic criteria includes "Frantic efforts to avoid abandonment, whether it is accurate or not, by family and friends" It is safe to say Sif feels this way about their family. They lost their entire home, their history, their family of origin. They cannot conceive of losing the family that they have gained. The concept is simply too painful for them to consider and so emotional and dissociative barriers force away anything which could potentially bring the topic of losing them to mind. Heaven knows we can understand the impulse... But since being directly responsible for failing the promise they made to protect Bonnie this is no longer a matter of fear of the unknown, it is shame in having failed to keep a promise to protect. This shame grows and cripples Sif's emotional regulation, leaving them prone to volatile outbursts of their repressed rage. Either forcing it inwards on the self or outwards on others.
When you feel chronic shame, you believe that no amount of punishment or corrective actions would be sufficient, and you are unable to forgive yourself or have any empathy for the terrible suffering shame brings to you. It is as though chronically ashamed people have received a life sentence of shame with no hope of parole, even when they are unsure of exactly why they are bad. In fact, some people will say there is no particular reason they are bad and unworthy: The mere fact that they exist and take up space on the earth is shameful enough. They believe they are not worthy of living and do not deserve anything good. In such cases, shame is an emotion of hiding: The last thing an ashamed person wants is to be open, vulnerable, and seen by others. Thus, it is an emotion that often is not addressed sufficiently in therapy, even though it is a major impediment to healing. - (Coping With Trauma Related Dissociation - Suzette Boon, Kathy Steele, Onno van der Hart)
Act 4 is about learning the origins of the Wish Craft that rewrites the universe and allows for Sif to use Time Craft. We learn that any time they are upset they will instinctively rewrite history to prevent the things that they fear from coming to pass. This includes moments when their anger gets away from them and they lash out at their family. Some optional scenes include forcing Isabeau into a kiss or screaming at Odile when she knows too much and tries to help Siffrin. Any time these outbursts happen time rewinds and only Siffrin is left with the knowledge that they happen, deepening the growing well of shame. All the while Sif feels more hollow in the interactions he has with his Family. In forcing them to be their best selves via the "Friendquest" events every loop he starts feeling like he is manipulating them. Where he felt loved the first few times he now accuses himself of forcing them to love him.
To the degree that our caretakers attack or abandon us for showing vulnerability, to that degree do we later avoid the authentic self-expression that is fundamental to intimacy. The outer critic forms to remind us that everyone else is surely as dangerous as our original caretakers. Subliminal memories of being scorned for seeking our parents’ support then short-circuit our inclinations to share our troubles and ask for help. Even worse, retaliation fantasies can plague us for hours and days on the occasions when we do show our vulnerabilities. I once experienced this after being very honest and vulnerable in a job interview with a committee of eight. Over the next three insomnia-plagued nights, my outer critic ran non-stop films featuring my interviewers’ contempt about everything I had said, and disgust about all that I had left out. Even after they subsequently and enthusiastically hired me, the outer critic plagued me with “imposter syndrome” fantasies of eventually being exposed as incompetent in the new job. - (Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving - Pete Walker)
It doesn't matter. Sif tries everything. Learns all the things that they can learn. Explores all the hidden areas of the house of change. Nothing matters. It's hopeless.
And with each loop The King's attack shows Sif a vision of the future. What do they see? Endless looping or... does Sif see the future beyond the loops? After the party return to their various homes? Act 4 ends with The Head Housemaiden, the only one who could have potentially held answers telling Sif outright that there was no escape... Before the loop begins anew.
Act 5 - Curtains
[Hello there. It's me, Dawn. I'm pausing the essay and dropping the cute little play structure to reiterate the Content Warnings from the start of the post. During Act 5 there are options to commit self-harm that a player may stumble across unintentionally. During previous acts one has to work exceptionally hard and against the game and characters within it to unlock a means of self-harm and it is unambiguously seen as a bad thing. In Act 5 there are no external forces to comment on Siffrin's actions.] The curtain rises. No point in wasting time. Get the actors. Make them strong. Beat the king. Do it right this time. Unfortunately our star has lost all of the mental fortitude they had. They were so strong for so long but there is only so much a person can take before they let the anger win. It is all too common for people with significant trauma to harbor resentment and anger in their soul. It sometimes remains repressed under layers of emotion numbing dissociation, it sometimes turns inwards into self-destructive acts and viewpoints and it sometimes turns outwards into explosive acts of physical or emotional violence. But it's there... lurking within the injustice of all the pain a person has felt.
When you have experienced a trauma, anger often becomes the central emotion that you feel. Angry thoughts about revenge may consume you. According to Enright and Fitzgibbons (2000), your anger is more destructive if you focus it on another person or people; it is intense, even in the short term; it leads to a learned pattern of annoyance, irritation, or frustration with others who are not the source of your anger; it is extremely passive; it is extremely hostile; or it is developmentally appropriate for someone much younger than your actual age (e.g., you act like a two-year-old and have a temper tantrum). - (The PTSD Workbook Mary Beth Williams)
and so... with the 5th act of our play about to begin, the star wakes in a familiar meadow for what may be the hundredth time... and they simply cannot take it anymore.
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The actor on stage has reached Rock Bottom and likely unlocked the skill Rock Bottom to go with it, though they are beyond the silly puns now. Rock, Paper, Scissors, Breathe or Heal. Just get to The King. Just kill it. One. Last. Time. The GIF above starts with the line "YOU WANT YOUR FAMILY BACK!!! NOT THE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS THAT HAVE TAKEN THEIR PLACE!!!" Up until now we have only spoken about dissociation in terms of zoning out or blocking out memory. I now want to talk about Derealization and Depersonalization. DPDR has been a subject of other Media, Myself and I essays, most notably our discussion on Night in the Woods. To be brief about it for this essay Depersonalization is a detatchment from one's sense of self and Derealization is a detatchment from reality. Our star has become so disillusioned with the endless looping that they no longer view their surroundings as real. The people in their life are just actors in a play that they are directing. Everyone says their lines. Even the star must say their lines. But there's still some stage direction. Some purpose that our hero must fulfill. They know that there is a chance if they can just kill the king without Mirabelle landing the final shot. Then. Maybe... In their disaffected state and unable to convincingly perform their lines in the play, our star manages to upset everyone else on stage causing them to doubt if it would be safe and productive to continue traveling with such a horrible disgusting unreliable stupid person. This causes the final act to be a solo performance. One final walk through the house without friends allies family actors to help. At the clocktower the other actors talk about our star and are uncertain if they can trust them any longer. Our star reacts by rejecting them entirely and going it alone. There is a concept in BPD called Splitting in which a person devalues or exaggerates the value of an individual in their compromised emotional state. It can cost a person relationships if they act out of these temporary emotions. At the start of Act 5 the actor manages to scream at the kid for getting in danger, calls the fighter a coward and mocks the researcher for her mother abandoning her. The individual, so desperate to shield their wounded heart, pushes the people they love away because their proximity is too close to their open wounds and they push away to maintain space. This is particularly true in those who struggle to create healthy emotional boundaries. This game is such a god damned call out at times. As the actor climbs the house everything is broken. The universe itself is trying to maintain the reality of two wishes that it needs to make a reality. "Save Vaugarde" and the one the main character wished for in Act 1. Do you remember what it was? The Universe cannot allow Siffrin to remain with their Family Members if they run off alone and reject them. The Universe simply cannot accomodate such a reality. Everything is falling apart. What proceeds is the ISAT equivalent of a Genocide Run in Undertale. Everything is broken and wrong. Rooms are breaking the collision boundaries of a video game, textures are cut wrong, doors lead to the wrong location, time is looping without rhyme or reason. And the menu is blunt. You cannot change your equipment, now stuck with Memory of Emptiness with the description (Nothing comes to mind, hahahahaha!) Some rooms contain hallucinations that make our star feel more abandoned and empty and mournful of their situation. In rooms where they would normally receive a modicum of physical comfort brushing against the other actors there is nothing now.
(Aaaaaaah…) (You rub your arms once, twice, thrice.) (Your throat tightens) (You feel like you're floating in your own body.) (If only someone would touch you to make sure you're real! Someone, anyone!)
This is an example of extreme depersonalization. Also the garden has a table with 4 healthy plants and 1 dying plant to the side. Our star notices it and it acts as a visual indicator of the barriers between the director and their actors. Some of the other rooms on the Act 5 climb depict overt self-harm...
It can be understood as a substitute action for more adaptive coping that attempts to deal with a variety of overwhelming problems, many involving too much feeling (for example, loneliness, abandonment, panic, inner conflicts, traumatic memories) or too little feeling (numbness, depersonalization, emptiness, feeling dead). Self-harm is thus often related to the need for regulation skills, that is, finding ways to modulate and tolerate unbearable inner experiences, such as painful emotions, or traumatic memories (Gratz & Walsh, 2009; Miller, 1994). Some people harm themselves in secret and carefully hide the inflicted wounds from others. Other people harm their bodies in places that are visible to people around them. (Coping With Trauma Related Dissociation - Suzette Boon, Kathy Steele, Onno van der Hart)
The shame only increases upon doing these optional (but distressingly unprovoked) actions. Honestly, if I had one criticism of the game and its depiction of mental health it is that there is no way to know that looking at the cupboard with the eye patch conversation would cause a self-destructive action. As someone with extreme sensitivity to depictions of suicide and self-harm I felt that having no agency or warning over that (I had no reason to assume this would happen. Any other form of self-harm requires selecting a menu option. This one jumps out at a player unexpected) was... unfair. It is noted in monologue that breathing exercises no longer work by this point of the narrative and due to not being at the clocktower our star is proceeding with no food and no sleep. Their already bottomed out mental and emotional state is in sore need of external intervention. Something the actor both desires and rejects in equal measure. Upon finding and fighting The King our hero is frozen in time and locked in a dream. Placed face to face with their worst fears and worries of how their actors Family would perceive them.
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(source: ISAT Script Project)
After the screen stops being blurry and the player wipes the wet spots off of their Nintendo Switch. The fear of being perceived. The fear of being seen as manipulative. Being seen as insincere. Being seen as lazy or too afraid to change. Callous. Aimless. Manipulative. So many survivors have these negative scripts and inner critics. Caught in their cycles. Their own little loops. But there's still hope. Family. The chance to be vulnerable. The game concludes with Sif's Family saving him from The King. But even though The King's spell is broken and the people of Vaugarde are unfrozen the sky has a giant red crack in it. Sif's wish is still tearing the world apart. Realizing that when the quest is over everyone will go home Sif has their temper tantrum, becoming the final boss in which every move is a choice to either lash out at the party or lash out at themselves. A boss mechanic version of the final embers of a violent extinction burst. That is to say a person who does not have control over their ability to maintain a sustained behavior will lash out and attempt to assert control in order to prevent losing the conditioned routine.
An extinction burst is characterized by a temporary increase in the frequency, intensity, or duration of behavior being extinguished through operant conditioning. This phenomenon occurs when the reinforcement for a previously learned behavior is removed, leading to an initial escalation of the behavior before it decreases and eventually ceases. While not all instances of extinction involve such bursts, they are observed in some cases, particularly during the treatment of problematic behaviors. Extinction bursts can complicate the treatment of behavioral disorders, as they may temporarily increase undesired behaviors like aggression or self-injury, making it challenging to assess the effectiveness of interventions. (*)
In this case Sif is lashing out because he has no way of preventing his Family from going back to their lives. It's a destructive and unhealthy mechanism. The fight ends with everyone refusing to let Sif run away or hide anymore. He is forced to admit that his wish was to stay with everyone. That he didn't want the family to go away. He opens himself up to the vulnerability of being seen of being understood and yes, even potentially rejected. The Family agree to travel together at least long enough to get Bonnie back to their sister. But there are no guarantees what happens beyond there. There is love. There is acceptance. There is honesty. There are no more time loops. Maybe now, finally... there can be change. Growth. Tomorrow.
In time loop fiction everything eventually loses meaning. There are no permanent consequences, no external pressures, nothing inherent to strive for, no meaning but what the protagonist(s) give themselves. The option to just accept things and remain is always there as Andy Samberg's character in Palm Springs does. The option to never stop trying to escape is there for those like Keiji in All You Need Is Kill.
The brilliance of In Stars and Time is that there are two wishes that are influencing the universe. The wish of the people to save Vaugarde from being frozen in time and Siffrin's wish to remain with his family. Change and Stagnation. That's what it always comes down to in these time loop stories and the conflict in this game is that those two forces are playing against one another. The only outcome was to give up on one or the other. As we'll learn in Act 6 there is no reality where Siffrin gets to stay with all 4 party members. They will have to separate at some point. Accepting change is accepting that things can and will and do end and life will go on and you have to be okay with it. Many of our essays have focused on representation that includes a healing journey from Ange Ushiromiya accepting the circumstances of her tragic past to Elliot Alderson's 4 season long representation of trauma therapy for dissociative clients. I think the thing I love about In Stars and Time is that it's the long and arduous process of a chronically traumatized individual asking for help. It's the first step on the healing journey. Acceptance. Siffrin spent the entire game in denial and rejection, making jokes and pushing things aside. Our long and hard journey was just getting to the point where they were able to recognize and admit it. And I really hope that Sif and their family members will be okay. I wished on my leaf for Sif to see Ka Bue with Odile. I hope they get to go. But as insertdisc5 says when asking any questions about what happens next "it's your turn" -
Stars that was a long one. Thank you for sticking with me if you read the whole thing. We like to write these essays as a matter of helping our study on dissociation (we, ourselves, are a DID patient and reading and comprehending this material is essential to our recovery and treatment) and providing a little insight to bits of media that are positive examples of what we go through. If you enjoyed always feel free to leave an ask or leave some silly tags. I never care if I get a flop post as writing is its own reward but the encouragement is good for my ego <3
Special thanks to @insertdisc5 for answering when I reached out for comment on the writing of this essay. The reply was helpful and encouraged us to take our time and write this with extra care. (In Stars and Time can be found on Steam, Itch, GOG, Nintendo Store and Playstation Store. The Prologue Game can be found on Steam and the Start Again comic on insertdisc5’s website) Media, Myself and I is a series of Tumblr Essays for positive depictions of dissociative disorders. Other essays include: A History of Murder Alters Discworld and Plurality Incidental, intentional and accidental representation Gender, Dissociation and Clinical Stigma in The Third Person Recontextualized Memories in Umineko Derealization in Night in the Woods and Metal Gear Solid The Dangers of Hypnotic Personality Play in Penlight System Origins in The Incredible Hulk Relationships with Systems in The Incredible Hulk The Healing Journey in Mr. Robot
...wait... what happened to Act 6?
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I did say Loop deserved their own essay, didn't I?
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iheartcoffeecakesm · 1 month ago
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"Anything" 💙 Curly x Anya
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art credit: seagummies on twitter
warnings: angst, topic of miscarriage
this is a good ending au of mouthwashing! if u are a hater, then dni🥰 this post aint for u, babe
Chapter 1
Jimmy had been dead for the past few months due to the crash. The crew has been slowly rotting. They have lost all hope, and for good reason. Daisuke and Swansea are unconscious because of hunger and exhaustion. Curly and Anya are slowly losing grip. Despite all this, the beautiful glowing screen still showcased the moon and stars. Curly's hair sticks to his face due to anxious sweat. "Well, we had a good run. Didn't we." Curly smiled. Anya laid beside him and she smiled despite the tears rolling down her face. "Yeah." Curly's breath hitches "Anya... I'm-”
Curly opened his eyes with a jolt. There he was, in the hospital. His whole body was aching. A nurse walked over to his bed, "How are you feeling, sir?" His eyes widened harshly. "Where is my crew?" He yelled. "Are they okay? Is Anya alive? I never got to tell her I'm sorry!" Curly's heart beat spiked. Thinking about Anya's distressed face made him feel nauseous from guilt. He placed his head in his hands, as if grappling with reality. The nurse spoke gently to try and to calm him down, "Everyone is okay. Some are still waking up." He sighed, feeling relieved. A doctor came into the room. "How did we survive? How are we home?" Curly was more than shocked. The doctor walked up to him, holding his papers. "Another space ship found you guys. Some astronomers were on an expedition in the area. You all were very lucky they were out there." The doctor said, cracking a smile. Curly looked down at his hands. "What room is Anya in? If you don't mind asking." Curly asked quietly. The nurse responded, "Room 25. And this is 24." After doing some basic checkups, and giving him some medicine for the pain, the doctor and the nurse left. Curly laid there, alone with his thoughts.
A few hours pass by, and unable to just sit and do nothing, Curly sneaks out of his room. He finds Anya sitting down in the lobby. The moon light shining on her in her hospital gown. She looked tired as usual, and mentally drained, but she still smiled faintly when she heard his voice. "Anya!" He cried out, limping towards her. She looks up at him and smiles with tears in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and cried. She held his head gently. "Anya... I-I I'm so sorry. I should have done something. You already had told me that you felt uncomfortable around him. I felt like I was losing my mind. I didn't know what to do. I'm so sorry that I made it seem like I didn't care. I care so much. I will do anything you want to gain your forgiveness. We don't have to ever talk again if that's what you wish. I'm so sorry, Anya." The words came out almost pleadingly, and rushed. He couldn’t hold back a sob. "Captain-... Curly. Our worst moments don't define us. I don't blame you for what happened, we were in the middle of space. But it will still take me a long time to heal. Thank you." Anya was always the more quiet kind. She didn't know how to respond. After several quiet minutes spoke quietly, "I lost the baby." Curly looks up at her, his eyes slightly wide. To not offend her, he asked honestly, "How do you feel?" Tears rolled down her face, as she stared at the ground. "Empty.”
In the morning, Curly and Anya met up with Daisuke and Swansea. It seemed they were recovering well. The crew all sat together in the lobby. It was surreal, everything felt so much lighter. Almost happy. "How are you guys doing? What do you plan on doing after this?" Curly asked. Daisuke's face lights up, "That was totally crazy! I'm happy we survived. I can't wait to see my mom." Swansea pops in, "Heh, It will be nice to be with my family again. No more pony express. I get to be a retired lazy old man!" Swansea chuckles. Anya and Curly look at each other smiling. It felt like a dream.
A few days went by, and the crew slowly recovered. Everyone was released from the hospital once they were fully recovered. Getting back from the hospital was refreshing. The sterile white rooms grew to be nauseating. He could finally go home. Curly pulled up to his home, the sight of his big white house with blue shutters made him smile. That company never cared. Some random astronomers were the ones who cared enough to save them. He was free from that stupid job. He hated being glorified, he soon realized. Curly felt like a monster after everything that had happened. His loving pet guinea pig was waiting for him in his bedroom. Curly’s mother would take care of her every day while Curly was gone. Whenever anyone visits, they are surprised that he has such a small creature when he's such a big guy. Almost every time someone says the classic "Wow. I thought you would have a dog of some sort, captain." He sighed and flopped on the bed but gently held Daphne. He felt so relieved to be home, after all this time. But every time he tried to close his eyes, he would see Anya's crying face
sooo this is my first fan fic ever that im gonna actually commit to😭 plz be patient. also, im gonna try to write the miscarriage plot as realistic as possible. i have had multiple friends and family that have suffered from miscarriages
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cosmicpearlz · 7 months ago
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my love is mine, all mine (pt 2)
summary: more glimpses of your relationship with jude!
pairing: jude bellingham x reader
a/n: i’m having too much fun writing these scenarios lol
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~one~
you rarely ever get into arguments with jude but when it does happen, it’s terrible on everyone’s part. this particular moment was about him not spending enough time with you.
“so you’re saying i can’t hangout with my friends? because that’s what it’s sounding like.”
“jude, that’s not what i’m saying! i’m just saying that it would be nice to have a day with just us. i feel like i’m left on a back burner right now.”
“we do hangout. i mean, i’m here right now but you wanna spend the time arguing!”
“tell me the last time we had a day to ourselves! please enlighten me,” you were beyond frustrated and your head was hurting from all the yelling.
“stop being so fucking clingy. i see you at home every night! we don’t need to be together 24/7.”
you felt your heart throbbing from the pain of hearing those words. is it really such a crime to want quality time with someone you love? between his training sessions and your job, there hasn’t been much alone time.
“okay. my apologies for wanting my boyfriend here with me. i won’t ask again,” you took a step back, looking down to possibly stop the tears. it didn’t work. the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.
jude instantly regretted saying that. he understood completely where you were coming from but the stubbornness in him clouded his judgement.
“baby, i’m-“
“i don’t wanna talk to you jude.”
-
it’s been hours since he last saw you. jude already made the guest room into his bed for the night and found himself restless. he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else but he couldn’t sleep without you near. even if you guys weren’t cuddling, at least his hand could be on you in some way. so he tossed and turned until he had enough.
jude makes his way to the room door, raising his hand to knock when the door swings open. it startles the both of you. leaving you to stare at each other in silence. jude noticed the dry tear streaks that laid on the apple of your cheeks. it made him feel worse.
“you really hurt-“
“i’m sorry bab-“
speaking at the same time wasn’t uncommon for you two, causing the both of you to let out a breathy laugh.
“you can go first honey,” his light whisper fell into the air as if he were too scared to talk any louder.
“jude, you really hurt my feelings earlier. i just wanted to spend time with you and you made it seem like i was asking for a million dollars or something bigger. i didn’t feel heard during our conversation but unfortunately i can’t sleep without you. so i was coming to drag you to bed even though i’m still very mad at you.”
“baby i’m sorry. i’m so sorry for hurting your feelings. i want you to know that i don’t mean it. hell, everyone knows i’m the clingy one! you’re the love of my life and i would spend days mending whatever hurt i caused,” his hands came to rest on your cheeks, fingers softly swiping at the dry tear stains.
“can we go to bed now? i’m exhausted and we can finish talking in the morning,” jude nods in response to you and kisses your nose.
“yeah, let’s go to bed m’love.”
~two~
“hey babe!”
jude looks up from his ipad upon hearing your voice through the phone. he was in germany for match and of course, he asked you to go with him. saying something along the lines of being his good luck charm. you couldn’t originally get the off time from your job.
“i miss you so much.”
“jude, baby you’ve been gone for like two days.”
“and your point is?”
“okay, whatever you say. anyways, i got a package for ya! just open the door.”
the boy failed to realize how close your face was in the camera and how you whispered. you had surprised him by coming to germany, being that your boss changed her mind and let you go. it wasn’t like you asked for off time a lot anyways.
“what?”
“can you open the door baby?”
jude jumps off the bed and practically leaps to the door. swinging it open to find you with a toothy smile. he rushes to hug you, bending down to your hight and pulling you into his arms.
“you said you couldn’t come!”
“surprise! my boss decided to let me take the time off last minute. i found the first flight here.”
“how’d you get to the hotel? i would’ve picked you up.”
“it wouldn’t have been a surprise then.”
he detaches himself from you to grab your bag, then grabbing your hand, walking you inside. you take a seat on the couch that was sitting in the room and smiled as your boyfriend put your bag next to his.
“i can’t believe you’re here.”
“well believe it,” jude sat next to you and began pressing kisses into whatever inch of skin he could get to.
“babe relax,” you say, in between giggles as he continued his work down to your neck. only getting off you when you pushed his shoulder back.
“i just missed you.”
“it’s been two days!”
“so what.”
~three~
you’ve become familiar with jude being your passenger princess. you never minded, it was just nice having someone to drive with. so, you took him on another one of your side quests. thrifting.
“i hope i find something good this time. last time we went, it was a bunch of bullshit.”
“i’m kinda hoping i see something i like,” you gasp into response to him, quickly looking at him and then looking back at the road.
“woah, thee jude bellingham is interested in thrifting?”
“oh come off it.”
“i’m just saying! i literally never heard you say anything like that. just making sure my ears heard correctly,” you give him a teasing smile.
“i will jump into oncoming traffic.”
“no you won’t.”
“i swear i will.”
“i’m calling your bluff.”
the silence in the car became loud as you both tested one another.
“no i won’t.”
“ha! i knew it.”
“whatever, drive faster loser. all the good stuff are gonna be gone.”
~four~
you wake up finding the bed empty. jude’s side is made up, totally not uncommon. you figured he was at training and got out of bed to get something to eat. as you walked to the kitchen, you find your boyfriend with his bare back towards you.
“good morning darling,” he turns his head to face you with a small smile.
“good morning. what’s all this?”
“i wanted to cook for you! training was canceled today because of a family emergency. i was gonna surprise you in bed but of course you had to wake up early.”
“that’s very sweet of you,” you make your way towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. pressing your front into his back, hugging him as tight as you could. you leaned up to kiss the back of his shoulder blade before stepping away.
“let’s spend the day inside.”
“are you sure jude? i know today is my off day but you don’t have to stay in with me.”
“i want to.”
jude plates the food and sits it on the dining room table. you follow close behind and go to grab your chair. instead, jude pulls out your chair for you. pushing you in before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. sitting down next to you, you both began to eat. a comfortable silence fills the room as you both ate. his free hand resting on your thigh, caressing the skin beneath his fingers.
“i love you so much. thank you for this.”
“you shouldn’t have to thank me. i’m your boyfriend, it’s a job of mine to make sure you’re feeling loved at all times.”
“trust me, i feel all the love right now.”
“it still wouldn’t be enough to express how much i truly am in love with you darling.”
“don’t get sappy on me bellingham,” you teased, watching his face attempt to hide a smile.
“oh we wouldn’t want that,” he plays along and kisses your cheek, making you both laugh in the process.
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flavored-soda · 8 months ago
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Some BuckTommy head canons to get you through the next week without an episode:
Buck and Tommy spend the night at each other's place a lot. It's not out of lust (although sex is not off the table), but more out of not wanting to sleep alone.
When they do spend the night with each other, it's not uncommon for one of them to drop off or pick each other up from work. The first time Tommy picked Buck up from work, he was coming off a 24-hour. Buck's exhaustion was setting in and he didn't think anything of it when he kissed Tommy "hello" and took the coffee cup from his hand. Needless to say, he got an earful of teasing from the team.
Tommy let Buck set the pace when they first stated dating. Meaning he let Buck tell him when and what he was ready for. But once they had settled into their relationship some more, Tommy couldn't keep his hands off Buck. He always has to have a hand on his boyfriend's back, arm, shoulder, thigh, holding his hand, even just linking fingers. Just simple, soft touches to keep the two grounded.
Tommy truly noticed how low Buck's self esteem is when he went over to try to help rectify the situation between him and Eddie. When the started dating, Tommy made it his mission to try and boost his boyfriend's self esteem whenever he could. Between sending him little text messages throughout the day and telling him all his favorite little things about his boyfriend. Buck loves every second of it.
Buck says "I love you" first. Buck's leg was flaring up again and this time the pain was particularly bad. Tommy had spent the night at Buck's, and it was a good thing he did because Buck never would've told him otherwise. It was at the end of night, Buck's pain meds had just kicked in and he was feeling a bit loopy. They were laying in bed watching with a movie, though, Buck had been watching Tommy for at least the past 20 minutes. He was drifting in and out of sleep when he said. By the time Tommy reacted, he had passed out for the night. In the morning, Buck woke up to his alarm and a note from Tommy that said "I love you too, Evan. Have a good shift.❤️" To top it off, there was pancakes and bacon in the microwave.
Buck babysitting quickly turned into Buck and Tommy babysitting. Tommy loved watching Buck with Chris, Jee-yun, and Denny. Sometimes it would make him wonder what it would be like when they have their own little family.
i have so many more of these, lemme know if you want to hear more. also come scream in my asks about these ones!
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aly4khq · 8 months ago
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⋆༺ - can't handle it? - ༻⋆
- ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ -
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warnings!: degrading (whore, slut), slight fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap ur willy before it gets silly), rough doggy <3
word count!: 493.
your body felt numb; destroyed. for the total hours you've been folded, bent, twisted in ways you haven't been before. but an artist's piece always has to be touched to be seen, doesn't it?
"stop moving." rafayel's voice boomed in your ears, demanding you to stay still. his hand grabbed at your flesh, spreading your cheeks open to see his cock ramming into your tight pussy. the ache so painful yet pleasurable, the feeling making you cry out for something to grab, something to hold.
his thrusts were ruthless, pounding against your body. his hands gripping your hips so harshly, you're sure that you'll have bruises the next couple of days. weeks, even.
your body was slowly falling down into a deeper arch, giving rafayel better chances of hitting your g-spot, hard and rough thrusts. his hands forcefully grasping your ass, bounced you back to have contact with his own pelvis. the sounds filling you with satisfaction.
"mhm- rafa!- augh...!"
gosh you sounded pathetic to your own ears. the amount of noises leaving your mouth was ridiculous. your hands wandering around for support, ending up with them getting caught in the soiled sheets below. you let out an exhausted cry, looking back at your boyfriend destroying your insides.
his hands caressing your back down to your neck, pushing your head into the bed's embrace. a deep chuckled came from his chest, his pace not stopping for a break. he knew you were about to cum, he could tell with the amount of squirming you were doing.
"you love this dick...hm? can't get enough?" after every word following another deep thrust, your body pushing you to your limit. but rafayel wasn't happy. you were met with a sharp thrust, somehow deeper than the others. his pace continued. "i asked you a question, whore."
in a matter of seconds, you were moaning, bitting your lip as you responded with slurs of words.
"y-yes! oh my goshhhh rafa!- i love it so much!-"
before you could finished, you felt the coil in your stomach burst, cum flooding out of your tight hole onto rafayel's dick. surrounding his lower stomach and your thighs as well. you could barely hear his chuckle. soon enough, you were met with more being stuffed inside of you.
"...oh my go- ahh! rafa-yel?!-" you gasped, shocked at the amount of pleasure.
he was slowly fingering the overflowing liquid back into your pussy, making sure to push it in so it doesn't come out again. you squealed as he lands soft, rewarding slaps to your cheek so you don't fall asleep, chuckling.
suddenly, you felt him slowly pull out then shove himself back inside, throwing you forward a little. a loud gasp escaping your mouth as you grasped a pillow in front of you. your hand reaching back to stop his relentless thrusts. his big hands grasping both of yours behind your back.
"rafayel!- please!! i...it's too much-"
"what, baby? can't handle it?"
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do not steal any of my works even tho they are trash!
date made: 17-21/4/24
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joelalorian · 6 months ago
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Fall Into Me - Chapter Eleven: Fall Into Me and I'll Catch You Darlin'
dbf!joel x f!reader | WC: 5k | E 18+ mdni
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Series Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Chapter Tags/Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Joel is his own warning. Angst/despair, fluff, smut - this chapter has the works. Please excuse my lack of medical knowledge. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).
This is it, folks, the final chapter! Just the epilogue left now. Thank you for coming along on this ride with me. I have fallen in love with this little family and I hope you have as well.
Moodboard by the lovely @mrsmando. Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Chapter Ten | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Four days. Joel hadn’t left your bedside in four days, so immovable that the nurses took pity on him and asked an orderly to setup a cot for him in your hospital room.
You still hadn’t regained consciousness and Joel was losing his god damned mind over it.
The list of your injuries a mile long, among them a bunch of broken things – ankle, nose, ribs, wrist. That’s what you were right now, broken, and you had a hard road to recovery ahead of you. Joel agonized over your condition, freaking out when you had to go back into surgery shortly after coming out of it the first time. He’d barely laid eyes on you before they hauled you away again, machines beeping chaotically at whatever went wrong. You developed a hemorrhage, the doctor later told him, but they caught it in time.
Joel hadn’t stopped crying in four days, except for a brief time when Sarah was discharged. He held her for hours, trying his best not to smother or hurt her as she sat on his lap next to your bed. Aside from a purple cast on Sarah’s broken wrist, her limited injuries were already healing. Joel’s worry over his sweet little girl lessened a bit and he trusted Tommy, your dad, and your best friend, Emily, to watch over her while he sat vigil at your bedside. They brought Sarah by to see you twice a day, every day so far. Still, you hadn’t woken up.
He lost it the first time Sarah saw you lying there, barely recognizable from the injuries you sustained. Face bruised and swollen, body wrapped in casts or dressings. Sarah worried that you were dying, nearly inconsolable at the thought that you might die, might leave her, and her dad, forever. She couldn’t handle it, the thought of losing the only mom she’d ever known, ever wanted.
Joel had to leave the room at his daughter’s visceral expression of the pain she felt, her inconsolable weeping a reflection of his own anguish. He left Tommy to deal with it, and slid down the wall in the hallway, just a little way down from your room, shoulders shaking from the strength of his own sobs as the sound of Sarah’s caterwauling carried through the air. JB was the only one who could reach him through his pain, the understanding of one father for another as they both shed endless tears over you. He sat next to Joel, right there in the hallway, and wept with him, whispering words of praise of how strong you were, how much you loved them all, how you would pull through.
Joel fought hard to believe those words, to trust in JB’s hope as he was quickly losing his. He raged inside at how unfair life could be until he exhausted himself emotionally and fell into a dreamless daze in the cot next to you. When the sun rose above the horizon, he stopped trying to sleep, stopped pretending that he could while you remained unconscious.
“Come on, son. Go home and shower, take a nap in a real bed. You haven’t slept in days. I’ll watch over Spud, and you’ll be my first call if anything happens,” JB insisted the morning of day 5 at the sight of heavy bags beneath the younger man’s eyes.
Opening his mouth to argue, to adamantly refuse, Joel snapped it shut at the concerned look on your dad’s face. He gave into the exhaustion then, all the fight fleeing him, and he stood with shoulders hunched. He was completely deflated, emotionally and physically. “Ok, you’re right. I at least need a shower.”
“That you do. I could smell you down the hall.” Joel’s lips twitched at JB’s comedic effort, but he didn’t have it in him to smile or laugh. “Go on, git. Emily’s at your house with Sarah. She’ll stay while you nap – please try to get some sleep. I don’t want to see you for at least three hours, ya hear me, son?”
Joel nodded and kissed the small spot on your face free of bruising, slinking from the room with one last glance over his shoulder at you. He noticed how your dad kept calling him son – a new development since the accident and it warmed his heart in a way that he sorely needed during this torturous time.
The drive home a blur, his limbs functioning on muscle memory alone, Joel stumbled through the front door of his home with just enough energy to great Emily and Sarah.
“Joel!” Emily exclaimed, jumping from her spot on the couch to pull him into a tight hug. She adored him from the first second you introduced them, finding the man dreamy in that way that was a perfect match for you. It tore her apart to see him falling to pieces over your current condition. “JB commanded that I send you right to bed. Give Sarah a kiss then git goin’.”
Too drained to be disgruntled about being given orders in his own house, he swept Sarah up with tired limbs, ever mindful of her cast. “Hey baby girl. I love you. Have you been good for Miss Emily?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m always good. Is she any better?” Sarah asked in her sweet, young voice that pulled taut at his heartstrings.
“Not yet,” Joel choked on the words, unable to fight the tears stinging the back of his eyes at his daughter’s worried face. He set her down on the couch before trudging up the stairs. Aching to climb into bed – as empty and cold as it would be without you – but he jumped into the shower first to wash the past few days away.
If only it was that easy.
Joel collapsed on the unmade bed, barely managing to throw a pair of sleep pants on after the quick shower. He was dead asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.
An hour later, he pried his eyes open, clutching to the warm body clinging to him. For a brief moment, his mind thought it just another normal morning waking up to you at his side. Reality crashed down on him, hard, before he even had the chance to enjoy the thought. Sarah’s frame clung to him like a spider monkey in her sleep. She must have joined him for a nap at some point and was still out cold.
Her steady breathing lulled him back to sleep for another couple hours until Emily woke him with a shout. Joel bolted upright at the echo of his name, heart thumbing in his chest as he jostled Sarah in the process.
“Joel!” Emily called again as she reached the top of the stairs and peeked into his bedroom. “She’s awake!”
Mind still fighting through the fog to wake up, he stared at your best friend with owlish eyes.
“JB just called. She’s awake! You gotta get back to the hospital!” Emily stepped fully into the room, tossing a pair of jeans and a tee shirt at him to get him moving.
“Dad!” Sarah’s uninjured hand nudging him into action as she exclaimed. “Can I come with you?”
Finally, Joel’s mind kicked into gear. You were awake. He had to see you, but first, he needed to get dressed. “Not yet, baby girl. Lemme see how she’s doing and maybe you can see her tomorrow. We don’t want to overwhelm her, okay?”
Flopping back onto the mattress with a pout, Sarah muttered, “Okay,” as Joel eased out of bed with a groan.
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It started with muscle twitches. Fingers flexing. A small grimace creasing your battered face. The process to consciousness was a daunting one that ended with fighting against the intubation tube. Even once a nurse came in and removed the tube, you still fought to come fully back to yourself.
“Dad?” Throat dry and raw, you could do little more than croak despite the rising panic. Your eyes darted around the room in confusion, landing first on your dad before taking in the plain white walls and clinical equipment. You were in the hospital, that much was obvious, but you couldn’t recall why. A thick fog wove through your mind, leaving you trying to make sense of anything, everything.
“Hey Spud. Sleeping beauty finally awakens,” your dad teased, his voice gentle but, even with a foggy brain, you picked up on the worried undertone.
“What happened?” It hurt to talk but you needed to know.
“You don’t remember? Of course you don’t, you got a pretty good knock to the head,” he muttered half to himself before tenderly taking your hand between both of his. “You and Sarah were hit by a drunk driver. Does that ring a bell?”
Like a light bulb coming on, things came back to you, brightening the dark corners of your memory. The ride home from school, going to get ice cream, the sudden and unexpected impact as you proceeded through a green light, the car rolling once, twice, then… nothing. With the memory came your brain’s recognition of pain and your body’s aches made themselves well known.
Everything hurt.
Seriously, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, to lie still. It hurt to just fucking exist.
“Oh my God, Sarah? Is she okay? Where is she? Where is Joel?” You glanced around the room as if waiting for them jump out from behind something, the panic returning as you gulped for air.
“Calm down, honey. The little nugget is okay. She’s home, Emily’s watching over her now. Joel’s on his way back. I’ll let him tell you how she is, but just know that she’s fine.” JB spoke in short, clipped sentences, not wanting to overwhelm you further, one grizzled hand stroking your hair back like he did when you were sick as a kid.
You tried to sit up but abandoned that idea the moment the room spun, the throbbing pain too much. Fuck, your face hurt like hell.
“Don’t do that, Spud. While Sarah might be okay, you were seriously injured. I’ll let the doctor explain when he comes in, but you shouldn’t try moving or anything just yet. You’re pretty banged up,” he explained softly.
You met your dad’s eyes, and you could see at once the toll your condition took on him. You had so many questions, but you couldn’t process them quite yet. The pair of you sat quietly for a little while until the doctor joined you, explaining the laundry list of injuries you sustained. No wonder everything hurt. They gave you more medicine for the pain now that you regained consciousness – you couldn’t believe you were out for so long – and things started to make more sense in your brain.
You’d be stuck in the hospital for a few more days before the doctor would even think about discharging you. As much as hospitals sucked, you knew it best you stay put when you couldn’t even sit up with collapsing back in pain.
Joel burst into the room shortly after the doctor left. Sipping at a cup of water your dad held for you, you nearly choked at the sight of him. You’d never seen him look so disheveled, so run down, his normal scruff grown out into a near full beard after a week of not shaving, eyes bloodshot and sunken, curls a messy, wild halo around his head.
“Oh darlin’,” Joel said as you attempted to smile at him. The bandages covering portions of your face and the swelling from the repaired break in your nose made it hard, but your eyes sparkled with happiness at the sight of him.
“Hi Joel,” you croaked in return.
He practically launched himself at your side, knocking JB out of the way so he could sit bedside. Hands hovering, afraid to touch, tears glistened in his eyes. “I was so fuckin’ scared. Thought I was gonna lose you.”
Tears sprung to your own dry eyes as the fingers of your uninjured hand tangled with his. The mere tickle of tears in your nose was damn near excruciating. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”
Startled, Joel’s dark chocolate eyes searched your face, completely baffled. “Darlin’, what? What in the world are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
You blubbered as Joel and your dad stared at you bewildered. “I almost got Sarah killed!”
Joel cracked a smile then, the first one in nearly a week, before leaning forward to place a tender kiss upon your chapped lips. “The hell you did. You didn’t do anything but take care of her. None of this was your fault, sweetheart.”
You couldn’t shake the guilt though, not even days later when the doctor discharged you. Sweet, little Sarah waited for you with a bright smile and a mylar ballon that read Welcome Home as Joel and JB helped you into the house. The sight of the purple cast on her right wrist wiped the smile from your face. How could Joel not see that this was all your fault?
You could hardly hug the girl as guilt overwhelmed you.
Emily and Tommy stood behind Sarah as you wobbled through the front door, smiles not hiding the winces at the healing trauma on your face. Emily could tell at once that you were on the verge of breaking down, unable to take your eyes from the healing contusions on Sarah’s adorable face or the cast on her wrist.
Stepping forward, Emily pulled you into a hug, ever mindful of your healing ribs and incisions. “It’s so good to see you awake and in one piece!” she whispered in your ear. “None of this was your fault, you know that right?”
She knew you too well. You choked on a sob, burying your head in her shoulder for several minutes until you had your emotions back under control.
“Do you wanna sign my cast? Daddy got special markers for it! I wouldn’t let anyone else sign it before you came home.” Sarah held a silver Sharpie up for you, flashing those puppy dog eyes at you. Unable to deny her, you took the marker with a trembling hand and drew a heart on the topside of the cast, your name scrawled sloppily beneath it.
Delighted, Sarah handed Joel the marker next and, with a quick glance at you, printed his name above the heart you drew, adding Sarah’s next to yours so that it now read Joel hearts you & Sarah. The tears returned when both Sarah and Joel gazed at you with unabashed affection.
Perhaps they really did not blame you for the accident, for Sarah’s broken wrist, for all that you put them through in the past week and a half. You weren’t sure if you deserved their love, but you basked in it, allowing it to wash over you and heal your soul.
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Six weeks of convalescing at home under the tender care of Joel and Sarah, and you finally felt like yourself again, emotionally, and physically. It took a while, but Joel managed to convince you to set free the irrational guilt you felt over the accident, aided by the news that the drunk driver pleaded guilty.
Wanting to celebrate your recovery and the removal of your and Sarah’s casts, Joel planned a small gathering for July 4th. Just the Millers, JB, Emily and her husband, and Maria – the attorney Tommy fell head over heels for last year finally gave into his advances and they were happily living together now. She was a gem and fell right in with the group, giving as good as she got.
“Darlin’, just put that down, I’ll get it,” Joel insisted as you pulled a plate full of raw steaks from the fridge.
“Joel, I’m not a delicate little flower who will break under the weight of a few steaks,” you teased lovingly. Placing the plate on the counter, you turned to Joel and slipped your arms around his neck. Fingers threading through his curls, you pulled his head down, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”
Joel’s large hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass as the kiss intensified. “Mmmm, I love you, darlin’,” his deep voice rumbled against your mouth. A knock sounded on the front door as he placed another kiss on your lips. “Now, let me take care of this while you welcome our guests.”
Before long, everyone gathered in the backyard. Your dad, Joel, and Emily’s husband Ed stood around the grill while Joel cooked the steaks and Sarah showed off her swimming skills to Maria and Tommy. You and Emily sat on the patio with glasses of sangria just watching everyone you love.
“I know I’ve said it a million times already but thank you again for being there for them after the accident,” you said as you watched Joel manning the grill with confidence. “I know it couldn’t have been easy and I just want you to know that I appreciate you.”
“Always, that’s what friends are for.” Emily smiled at you. “You really got somethin’ good here, you know. That man, he was a complete wreck while you were in the hospital. And that little girl, she worships the ground you walk on. Those two would do anything for you and I know you would do anything for them.”
You heard from your dad how hard Joel struggled while you were in the hospital, how he barely slept, refused to leave your side. Emily reiterated it all and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you would have done the same if anything happened to him or Sarah.
“I don’t know how I got so lucky,” you said after taking a sip of the fruity red wine concoction. “I can’t imagine my life without them in it.”
“That’s good, really good.” Too busy making googly eyes at Joel, you missed the knowing look Emily shot you.
“She can’t keep her eyes off you, son,” JB teased. “You ready to do the thing?”
“What thing is that?” Ed asked curiously.
“Imma ask her to marry me,” Joel mumbled, already feeling a little nervous. “I got the ring in my pocket, just waiting for the right moment.”
“Good on ya, man!” Ed replied. Turning to JB, he added, “I take it he has your blessing?”
Nodding, JB grinned at his future son-in-law as he replied, “He sure as hell does. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to take care of my little Spud.”
A flush rose along Joel’s neck and moved onto his cheeks at the praise. “Alright, alright. Let’s not talk about it anymore. I don’t wanna risk her overhearing something. I want it to be a surprise.”
The other two men nodded in understanding. “Just one last thing,” Ed said. “You should ask her during the fireworks. I brought my good camera; I’ll make sure to get great shots of it for you and the fireworks will just add to the ambiance.”
The steaks were grilled to perfection, Joel nailing that medium rare sear that you loved, and Maria’s macaroni salad was a hit. Once everyone devoured their food, you jumped into the pool, letting the water ease the lingering ache in your bones while your dad and Emily insisted on helping Joel clean up. Before long, everyone else joined you in floating around to kill time before the town’s fireworks show began. The house was perfectly situated to see them from a distance, so you didn’t have to fight the traffic to find parking in town to see the show.
Drinking in the sight of Joel shirtless, swim trunks sitting low on his hips, you licked your lips hungrily. He dove into the deep end of the pool, swimming underwater until he reached you in the shallow end. Popping up next to you, he slicked his wet curls back from his forehead with a grin. Fuck, he was handsome.
“Hey beautiful,” Joel greeted. “Enjoying yourself?”
Smile so broad your cheeks hurt, you nodded. “Today has been wonderful, thank you, Joel. This was exactly what I needed.”
“I’d do anything for you, darlin’. You know that, right?” he implored, pulling you close so that you could wrap your legs around his waist beneath the water’s surface. “I’ve never been so in love before. You have completely changed my world.”
“I could say the same about you, babe.”
“The fireworks are gonna start soon. Watch to watch them from the patio?”
“Sure,” you replied. So caught up in Joel, you didn’t notice everyone watching you both with broad smiles as the two of you climbed out of the pool.
Settling into one of the cushioned outdoor chairs, the soft glow of the string lights from that special date all those months ago glistening on your damp skin. Joel moved his chair closer and sat, holding his right hand out for yours, he grinned when you twined your fingers with his.
Suddenly, Tommy appeared in front of you both, carrying a fresh glass of sangria for you and an ice-cold beer for Joel. “Here you both go.”
“Thanks Tommy,” you said gratefully.
“You ready?” he asked, his dark eyes glowing warmly in the low lighting.
“For the fireworks?” you replied, slightly confused. “You bet!”
Tommy smiled indulgently, sharing a look with Joel before moving to the poolside to help his girlfriend out of the water.
Glancing around at your friends and family, you found everyone watching the two of you. You had the feeling something was up, that there was something you were missing. Before you could dwell on it, the first bursts of light exploded in the sky, the whistling boom echoing distantly.
Mesmerized by the show, oohing and ahhing with everyone, you didn’t see Joel slip from his seat to kneel next to you. As the finale began, he said your name, drawing your attention away from the sky.
An audible gasp left your lips as he gazed at you, love lighting up his tanned features. Your eyes darted around the yard to find everyone watching you instead of the fireworks, Ed snapping away with that fancy camera of his.
“Joel, what—” you began breathlessly before he cut you off.
“Do you remember that song we danced to, right here in the yard, beneath these very lights?” His smooth voice gave no hints of the nervous energy flowing beneath his skin.
You nodded, recalling the memory fondly. “That was a beautiful night.”
“It was, and I hope to have many more just like it with you.” Still kneeling, he reached his left hand into his pocket and your breath hitched. Your heart nearly dropped when you merely pulled his phone out, tapping at the screen until music began to play in the background.
Taking your hands in his, Joel began to sing along, his deep voice the perfect contrast to the artist’s.
“On the day that I met you,
The world had just spit me out.
On my way to the bottom
Sure I’d never be found.
Then you saw me for me
Made me believe in myself.
On the day that I met
It all turned around.”
Tears stung the back of your eyes, but for the first time in weeks, they were tears of happiness, not pain or guilt. You clutched at Joel as he went to pull his right hand free, and he chuckled.
“I fall more in love with you every single day. I don’t know how I ever got to be this lucky, to find someone like you, who fits so perfectly, so seamlessly into mine and Sarah’s lives.”
You finally loosened your grip so he could pull his right hand free, digging into the zippered pocket as you swiped at the tears coursing down your face.
“You are the woman of my dreams, the one I was sure didn’t exist until I met you. If I promise to fall for you over and over again, will you promise to be my wife, to be Sarah’s mom, to love us from now until forever?”
Gazing into his dark, gorgeous eyes, misty with tears of his own, you nodded. “Yes, yes. A million times, yes, Joel. I’d love to be your wife and Sarah’s mom.”
You were sobbing as he beamed, slipping a beautiful, understated princess cut diamond ring on your finger. It fit perfectly and your heart swelled, the love in you threatening to spill over, to burst straight from your chest. “Joel, it’s so beautiful!”
Joel stood, pulling you with him until your feet left the ground and he spun you in a circle once, twice, before setting you down on solid ground. You lurched forward, sealing your love, your promise with a heated kiss.
As if they hadn’t all witnessed every second of what just happened, Joel looked over at everyone and declared, “She said yes!”
The small group of your favorite people made a racket with their whoops and whistles, JB shouting above the rest, “About fuckin’ time, son!”
Unable to contain herself for another second – she had been incredibly patient, after all, letting her dad do the asking instead of her – Sarah burst from Tommy’s grasp, launching herself at you. Joel helped you sweep her up for a tight hug.
“It’s official now, right?” Sarah questioned, nearly vibrating with excitement. “You’re gonna be my mom now. I finally get to have a mom and not just any mom, but you. The best one I could have asked for.”
Just when you thought the tears ebbed away, the waterworks started once again. “Oh, my sweet, perfect girl. I promise to try my best to be worthy of such an honor. I couldn’t have asked for a better girl to go on this adventure with.”
“This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Emily said, her voice catching as tears ran down her cheeks as well.
“Agreed,” Maria chimed in with a sniffle and Tommy pulled her close with a dumb grin spreading across his face. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he thought about how he’d propose when the time came.
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You and Joel couldn’t keep your hands off each other once Sarah went to bed and everyone left. Your need for each other was too mighty to fight, not that either of you wanted too anyway. He treated you like glass the past six weeks, afraid to hurt you, to aggravate your injuries. You understood, but that didn’t stop the desire, the need for him and it frustrated you that he would not give in. Now that you were mostly healed, you wanted him to make love to you like he used to.
Readying yourselves for bed, you climbed onto the mattress, straddling Joel’s hips where he laid back against the pillows. Half hard already at the mere sight of you naked before him, he grasped your hips to grind your core down on him.
“I need you, my love. I need to feel you inside me. It’s been too long,” your voice a breathy whine against his mouth, your lips touching but not yet kissing. “Let me ride you.”
“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel gasped as you shifted against his now fully hardened cock. “Take what you want, sweetheart.” He watched with lust blown eyes as you slid his sleep pants down his hips, and he kicked them off to lay in a pile at the bottom of the bed.
So wet and needy, you didn’t even need foreplay. Sealing your mouth to his, you swallowed his groan as you slid down on his cock. Pausing for a moment once he was balls deep inside you, fingers threaded through his luscious curls, you sighed in contentment.
“I feel so fucking full, Joel,” you moaned, finally starting to move. “I’ve missed this so much.”
Joel gazed at you, completely enraptured and unable to speak. The words stuck in his throat, he just watched you move on him, his hips shifting upwards to meet your movements. It felt so good he knew he wouldn’t last long, shifting his hand between you to pluck at your clit as you rode him.
“Come for me, darlin’. I need to feel you come apart around me,” the words burst from deep in his chest, dripping with need as he got closer to the edge. Thumb moving frantically against your clit in that way that drove you crazy, he made you come apart within minutes.
“Fuck, Joel!” you gasped, burying your face in his shoulder, biting down on the flesh to stifle your moans. Waves of pleasure washed over you so strong you couldn’t move your hips anymore. Joel took over, thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm as your walls fluttered around him.
You sunk your teeth further into the meat of his trapezius, the shock of pain like a bolt of lightning straight to his cock. His movements grew sloppy as his balls tightened and he came with a guttural growl, sucking at your neck as rope after rope of cum splashed inside you.
Breathless and satiated, you stayed in place, allowing the aftershocks to roll through you both. You brought your hands up to cup his face, the patchy scruff of his beard tickling your palms. The diamond ring on your left hand sparkled in the dim lighting and you grinned down at Joel, so full of love.
He pulled you down to lay with him, his softening cock slipped out of you in the process, and you both ignored the mess as you cuddled together.
“I can’t wait to marry you.” You felt the words rumble from deep in his chest as he spoke them, pulling you impossibly closer until your sweaty skin melded to his. “I fuckin’ love you, darlin.”
Smiling sleepily, you murmured your love for him, your excitement over being engaged, the beauty of the ring he chose for you, until you fell asleep mid-sentence.
Your dreams were no match for the life you and Joel were creating together.
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imagineanime2022 · 2 years ago
Text
You Find Comfort In Their Demon Form
Lucifer X Reader Mammon X Reader Leviathan X Reader Satan X Reader Asmodeus X Reader Beelzebub X Reader Belphegor X Reader
Requested: @your-next-daydream
Request: I'm back with another obey me ask! Lol I know you might be getting tired of obey me, so if you want to skip this that's okay.
But if you wanted to I was wondering if you could write a MC that pulls at their demon parts (horns,tail, wings, ect) when they are anxious or stressed? With the demon brothers? Preferably just keep this gender neutral 😅
A/N: I had ideas for this the moment that you sent this in so I hope that you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Lucifer
📚 Lucifer took a little while to realise what you were doing by extension the reason for it. 📚 He’d usually have his demon form active when he could see that something was bothering you, that prompted you to hide behind him but it was only after the situation was dealt with that he realised that you were running your hands through the feathers of his wings. 📚 You might even have to tell him one day when you are in serious need of his wings and he is too busy to come out of his office. 📚 You're probably the only person that he lets that close to his wings, he might even teach you how to properly care for his wings so that he can benefit from your anxious or stressed habit.
Lucifer had already been in demon form when you walked into the office, you moved behind him with practice ease and started to run your hands through on of his wings, he waited to see if you would say anything but you didn’t instead you continued to sort through the feathers laying them properly and removing any loose feathers. “Are you going to tell me what is going on?” He asked as he continued to work through paperwork. “Nothing.” You answered as you continued your work, he folded his wings in to stop your finger working through them as he turned his head to look at you. “Try again.” He ordered. “It’s nothing, it’s just we turned in some assignments today and I’m nervous about this one.” You explained as you reached for his wings as he relaxed them again. “Why are you nervous about this one? Did you spend all of your time caring for my brothers again? Please tell me you didn’t write this one in one night.” He pleaded as he remembered the state that you came to him after that, exhausted and stressed, he had to hide you from his brothers for 24 hours so that you could rest properly. “No, I just worry that it isn’t as good as it could have been.” You shrugged and he sighed before pushing his chair back and inviting you to sit on his lap. “But you tried your best at the time?” Lucifer asked and you nodded, hand still reaching around to his wings. “Of course.” You mumbled. “Then there’s nothing that you need to worry about.” He said “take time to relax here, I’m sure my brothers can fend for themselves for a little while.” “You’ll regret saying that later.” You mumbled already far more relaxed than before. “I’ll never regret making the best decision for you.” He promised, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
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Mammon
💳 The first time that you touched his horns you nearly gave him a heart attack, any other time that his horns have been touched it’s been used to control him in some way and only ever resulted in pain. 💳 The same went for his wings so when you showed such care when touching them it confused him but was confused him more were the times that you chose to touch them. 💳 Mammon would pride himself on being the one that you came to or called when you needed reassurance or safety. 💳 Mammon doesn’t mean to distract you but he becomes a stuttering mess no matter how many times nestle into his side and thank him for being there.
You had called Mammon after getting home from RAD, you were a little later than he was so had time to get changed but when he walked into your room he saw that you were still laying in your uniform. “Hey what's wrong with ya?” He asked as he walked closer to the bed. You reached out dragging him onto the bed and curled into his side, the surprise itself caused him to change to his demon form, his wrapping around you as you reached up to touch and mess with his horns. “What are ya doin’?” He asked. “Had a bad day.” You mumbled as you buried your face in his shoulder. “What happened?” He asked. “Just some demons with too much time on their hands and nothing to do with it.” You explained. “Wait! What’s that got ta do with me?” He asked. “You always make me feel better.” You explained and he froze at the declaration. “I do?” He asked. “Mm.” You hum “thank you Mammon for being here, for being my first.” “Yeah, yeah, you have to show me who they are tomorrow, give ‘em a piece of ma mind for upsetting ma human.” He explained and you looked at him for a second and then smiled. “Thanks.” You finally say before going quiet, he glanced down to see your eyes closed peacefully and breathes a sigh of relief, he meant what he said he was going to get rid of anything that upset you.
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Leviathan
🎮 Levi was pretty anxious himself, you were the only person that he allowed this close to him in any form but it did take a long time before he showed you his demon form consciously. 🎮 You were careful with him but one day you were more anxious then you had been in a long time and went to Levi to hide before either one of you noticed you were running your hands over the scales on his neck relaxing both of you. 🎮 Levi looked forward to the times that you’d come to his room and run your hands over his scales, at some point he redirected your hands to his stomach where more scales were located. 🎮 Well that is until he found out the reason behind it, now it made him worry a little bit whenever you came in and started tracing the scales while laying with your face buried in his neck, while he played whatever game.
Today was the same as every other day that you came into his room seeking comfort, you walked around the sofa and laid half across his body while your other hand loop under his shirt to rest over his scales, you slowly started tracing his scales, he glanced down at you his face a little red as he looked over your face. He waited a little while before he asked about anything, he knew that you wouldn’t be ready to talk for a little while. “What happened?” He asked. “Just some work things.” You answered. “Like what?” He asked, taking in a deep breath as your hand ran over a ticklish spot. “Oh just some annoying customers, I think I recognised them from school, probably just having fun ordering me around, and making me clean up after them.” You explained with a shrug. “Yeah? You know their names?” He asked. “What? No, it doesn’t matter even if I did, I wouldn't tell you.” You mumbled eyes falling closed. “What? Why?” He asked. “Because no one deserves what you call revenge.” You answered with a small smile on your face as your hand fattened out over the patch that you had been tracing. “Am I that bad?” He asked. “You are when you involve Lotan.” You sighed as you looked at him and he shrugged. “They deserve it for messing with my Henry.” He mumbled pressing a kiss to your forehead before swapping you to the other side of the couch where you could rest against the back, his tail wrapped around your waist to keep you close as he continued to play, he knew that Beel was with you today, so he’ll ask him at breakfast in the morning and then make those normies pay.
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Satan
🐈 Satan was a little worried at first, he knew that his tail was dangerous but he realised that his tail provided comfort for you so instead of stopping you from touching it he got you a pair of gloves to protect your fingers. 🐈 He realised that you playing with his tail gave him a level of comfort as well, one he didn’t know that he’d enjoy. 🐈 You're the only person that’s allowed that close to his tail, that being said that’s only in the safety of his room. 🐈 He’ll often take this time to read something that he liked to you and take your mind off of whatever was happening.
Satan walked into his room where you were waiting with an arm over your face “are you okay?” He asked as he walked over, you lifted your hands making grabby hands in the direction that his voice had come from. “Where are your gloves?” You just whined and he raised an eyebrow, as he got closer he could see stray tears on your cheeks, he reached for your bag silently and grabbed specially made gloves taking your hands one by one and slipping the gloves on before allowing his tail to fall into your hands, you opened your eyes once you felt the weight in your hands. “What happened?” “Nothing just didn’t do as well as I wanted in one of the papers, I need to rewrite it as well as write the new one and there is an exam.” You explained and he felt the way that your hands tightened around his tail, you didn’t hurt him but he was worried that you might hurt yourself so he stood walking over to his book shelf, he heard you whine. “One minute, I’m coming back.” He promised, he just wanted to give your hand a brief break by pretending to look for a book to read, he chose one that was as far away from school work as he could get, a tale from the demon realm. He walked back over and held up the book “how about we forget about that for a little while? We’ll make a schedule and I’ll help you with the rewrite okay?” “You will?” You asked. “Mmm.” He hummed laying on his back letting his tail fall over your lap as he opened the book and started reading.
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Asmodeus
💅 Asmo was probably the one that introduced you to using his demon form as a way to relieve stress. 💅 He told you about the way that his heart shaped birthmarks needed extra lotion because the skin dried out quicker and he couldn’t always reach them right. 💅 Or how his horns after constantly growing and he needs help filing them down and making sure that they didn’t grow weird directions or grow too long. 💅 While you're working he’ll use that time to slyly ask about your day and fish out any information or event that you need to vent about.
Asmo sat on his bed back leant against the headboard with a pillow for support and he manoeuvred you so that you were sitting on his lap, you started your work gently filing down his horns the way that he had shown. “So what did you do today?” He asked gently, rubbing his thumbs over your hips. “Me?” You asked. “Who else would I be talking to darling?” He asked. “Nothin much, just some annoying stuff.” You mumbled as you gently brushed some of the shavings away from the base of his horns. “What annoying stuff?” He asked. “Mammon got into some trouble with a witch, that I had to bail him out of.” You mumbled. “Are you okay?” He asked, you smiled on the concern on his face and nodded. “Promise I’m fine, Solomon helped me out and we managed to get what she wanted.” You answered. “Anything else?” He asked. “Had to stop Satan and Lucifer from killing each other after a misunderstanding.” You answered. “Those two need to learn how to communicate.” Asmo muttered as you shrugged. “They never will.” You mumbled all the while finishing off another perfect filing session. “How’s that look?” Asmo tapped your thighs signalling for you to get up so that he could get a proper look, he looked at you through the mirror and smiled. “Maybe we should start up a business.” He suggested. “You want me to sit on other demons' laps?” You asked with a smirk and he narrowed his eyes before turning back to you. “Would you?” He asked. “Would you let me?” You countered, there was silence for a moment before he dove at you pinning you to the bed. “You're my human.” He whined. “Yeah I’m your human.” You laughed finally in a better mood than when you had walked into the room.
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Beelzebub
🍔 Beel realises the connection before you do, he’d usually be holding you in a stressful situation anyway so in the situations where his demon form was needed, he’d always feel your finger in his hair and around the base of his horns. 🍔 Beel would encourage the behaviour no matter what but he’d encourage it even more if it replaced a more dangerous nervous habit. 🍔 He’s always there and would be your personal stress reliever no matter what the situation was, he’d always focus on you first, there were others (Belphie and Mammon) that would get rid of the problem for the both of you. 🍔 Beel had always been good at seeing the way that a situation affected you and no matter where you were or who you were with he’d sit you on his lap and direct your hands to his head to calm yourself down.
Beel could feel you tense next to him as Satan and Lucifer started arguing, he frowned as he looked between the two, before looking at you, you had stopped eating, your hand fiddling with your trousers, he reach over moving you to his lap where he dropped his head to your shoulder, letting you run your hands over his horns “It’s okay I’ll keep you safe.” He promised. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled but he tightened his grip on you. “There is nothing to be sorry for.” He mumbled “they are scary when they start shouting, they used to scare me too.” He stood from the table completely unnoticed by everyone except for his twin and carried you back to his room. “Aren’t you hungry?” You asked as you looked at him settled in bed. “Don’t worry we’ll get a snack later when they all get lost.” He promised as he gently ran his hand up and down your back, you were still straddling his waist so you could reach his horns. “You sound angry.” You mumbled, you seemed to be relaxing. “I’m annoyed.” He answered honestly, “I don’t like that they make you feel unsafe.” “They don’t make me feel unsafe, your brother would never hurt me, I just don’t like them fighting.” You explained as one of your hands came down to the marks that peaked out of his shirt and started tracing them. “You want them to stop fighting?” He asked. “Mmm, we might have a better chance of uniting the 3 realms though.” You shrugged and he chuckled a deep sound that you missed when you didn’t hear it. “Well I’ll be here whenever you need me.” Beel promised.
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Belphegor
💤 Here’s the thing, Belphie probably didn’t know what you were doing for the longest time, he was asleep whenever you played with the tuft at the end of his tail or along his horns. 💤 So you can be sure that he’d never know the situation that had caused you stress or anxiety. He’d always be able to sense the feelings though so he knew what you needed. 💤 Sometimes he doesn’t say anything. Instead he’ll pull you close and keep you there until he is sure that you are asleep, then he'll wrap his tail and arms around while intertwining your legs and that’s how you'll wake up. 💤 Belphie would spend hours trying to find out what happened to make you so tense or teary but the only person brave enough to tell him is Beel and when he does it’s game over for whatever hurt you.
This time he felt you climb into the bed behind him, he was hiding in the attic and it seemed so were you, you sat cross legged behind him and he felt you playing with his tail, he waited a moment to see what you were going to do and when he heard you sniffle slightly he turned immediately and pulled you into the a hug his tail wrapping around your waist as he run his hands through your hair, your hand reached down to catch his tail as you continued to play with it, he watched as your face changed from one of sadness, to relaxation and then you were asleep.
He pulled out his DDD, careful not to let the light shine on your face, he opened the chat with the rest of his brothers.
Belphie: Thought you were all supposed to look after them, why have they been crying? Mammon: Cryin’ who’s cryin’? Belphie: Y/N. Asmo: What happened? Belphie: I don’t know, they’re asleep, you should all know if you were doing your job right. Mammon: Woah someone’s protective of the human. Belphie: You better hope that you had nothing to do with it otherwise I’m going to flush that stupid credit card down the toilet. Lucifer: Belphegor please find out the reason that Y/N is upset and then report to me immediately. Belphie: Whatever.
Belphie glanced down at you and gently ran his knuckles over your cheek, he knew that his twin had been unusually quiet during that chat and he’d have to chase it up, then once he’s dealt with the problem the way that he saw fit and then he will report to Lucifer. However when he tried to move one of you hands moved to the base of his horns and the other other gripped the tuft of his tail and he stopped moving immediately, instead he decided to stay with you, you needed him more anyway.
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Request Here!!
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fllagellant · 1 year ago
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Do You Know What Dry Socket Is?
Informational post about something a lot of people might be unaware of.
So, let’s say you loose a tooth. You fell and knock it out, maybe you pulled it at home for whatever reason. All that is important in this scenario is that you’ve lost a tooth outside of a dentist visit, so there is no field professional there to walk you through the healing process.
Now, how do you recover from this? Saltwater rinse, wad of cotton to help slow the bleeding, painkillers, eating soft foods. It stands to reason that, like any other recovery period that involves the mouth and teeth, you’d also need a straw. Makes sense, easier to get liquid into your mouth and you’ll have more control over where in your mouth it goes. Makes sense, right?
You are about to give yourself dry socket.
The main difference between most other well known recovery periods from a jaw / mouth injury, is that the act of sucking on a straw can dislodge the blood clot from your gums.
The reason is, for a few days, your blood clot is actually smaller than the hole left behind by the missing tooth. Gums do heal quicker than most other tissue on your body , so the opening will close to be smaller than the blood clot itself. But there is a period of time, the first few days of healing, that the blood clot is at a serious risk of coming loose or being dissolved away . This risk does not truly go away until healing is over , but the likelyhood slowly goes down.
This blood clot being removed will reveal the traumatized and damaged nerve + the jaw bone to the open . Unsurprisingly, this is extraordinary pain, that nothing can soothe. Any fluid gets into the wound ? Food particles ? You inhale / exhale too hard ? That nerve is going to Ache. Not to mention , you’ re at an even higher infection risk now .
And the things that can cause dry socket are so innocuous , that unless you know about the possibility , you may do these actions without thinking.
1) Straws ( and Sucking )
The pressure from drinking through a straw is enough to pull the blood clot from your gums . This pressure can be caused by anything that requires sucking , this includes smoking as well . Anything that requires a strong pull into your mouth to eat / ingest is exerting the same pull on your loose blood clot . If you suck on a straw now , you can feel the kind of pressure vacuum you make in your mouth . That pressure does not care about what it might cause to dislodge .
2) Spitting Out Blood
At least , for the first 24 hours . After 24 hours ( specifically , after your gums stop consistently bleeding ) and you start doing saltwater rinses , you’ re free to spit . But regardless , forceful spitting can do the exact same damage as drinking from a straw . It’ s the pressure and force you cause . When you do saltwater rinses , don’ t really swish. Tilt your head side to side and slowly push the water around . For the first 24 hours , you are encouraged to swallow blood instead of spitting , to avoid the risk of spitting out the start of a blood clot and prolonging the bleeding cycle . Keep in mind the nausea this can cause .
3) Alcohol and Hot Food/Liquid
Paring these together since they cause similar issues . Alcohol can melt a blood clot , and abundance of heat can increase blood flow too the clot . Both of these will cause the clot to dissolve or come loose , but cold food/drink is more recommended . Yes , cold can cause an ache if it manages to come into direct contact with the healing area , but it will not affect the blood clot as seriously as hot food/drink will . Room temperature is also okay for consumption.
4) Exercise
Light exercise is okay , but anything that ups your heart-rate is upping blood flow to your wound . Nothing strenuous, nothing that pushes endurance , nothing that you know will exhaust you . Even if you heart-rate jumps from something like chasing a cat down because they have something they shouldn’ t have can cause increased blood flow ( trust me , it felt like I was undergoing divine punishment because I stopped my cat from eating a tuff of dog hair . ) The sudden taste of blood is a warning to slow down what you’re doing .
While dry socket can heal on it’s own, the gums will cover the exposed bone regardless of if there’s a clot there or not, this pain is not something anyone deserves to struggle with . Once again , dealing with dry socket is dealing exposed bone and nerve .
Dentists are expensive , and if you cannot afford a dental visit after the loss of a tooth, I only want you to be aware of one of the more serious complications that come with such a thing happening . Everyone deserves to heal in comfort , and I only want people to have the best chance at having a complication free healing process .
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kiarastromboli · 11 months ago
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Teach me 4 (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)
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Part. 1 Part.2 Part.3
Mesterlist.
Warning: Bit of angst, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)
Summary: Two years have passed since Chris and Y/N's breakup. Many things have changed, but apparently not the feelings Y/N has for Chris. But how will her return to Boston for the summer holidays unfold when she knows she hasn't moved on?
Note : I'm sorry for making you wait so long for this fourth part. I just wanted to make sure I did it right. Despite everything, I'm still afraid this part won't please you as much, and I apologize if the result isn't what you expected. I did my best.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
"Julia, stop, that's enough," I said, bursting into laughter at the excited screams of my best friend on the other end of the line.
"Stop?? It's been almost 2 years since we last saw each other, y/n. How do you expect me to keep calm when I'm going to see you in less than 24 hours?" She said, overexcited, and I could hear her fidgeting in every direction.
Indeed, it had been a while since I left Boston. After my parents sent me to the other side of the country, I started researching universities nearby. At the end of high school, I wasted no time in enrolling and starting my studies.
I had successfully completed my first year at the university, and now it was summer vacation. My parents agreed to let me return to Boston to enjoy my break with them and my friends.
As for my relationship with my parents... Let's say things are different, but the distance imposed on us did me good. I had finally started to live for myself, and many things had changed in my life. As for them, they were content because my results were excellent, and they could see that I had gained autonomy and maturity since my departure.
Anyway, two years had passed, and my life had changed a lot, but I was so happy to finally be back in Boston.
"Yeah, I know," I said, chuckling. "I can't wait to see you and the others," I said, turning around to lie on my back in my bed.
"We'll have to organize a party for your return!" Julia screamed in my ears.
"No, Ju, please, that's enough," I said, moving the phone away from my ear a bit, which she had just shattered again.
"Huh huh, anyway, you don't have a choice. Mom's not here for 3 days, and it's perfect for the party we're going to have when you get back!" She said, emphasizing the word 'party.'
"Juliaaaa!" I said, sighing. "Who are you even planning to invite to this party? It's not like I had a hundred friends back in high school," I said, laughing.
"We don't care, y/n. Who would refuse a party in a big house during summer vacation? I'll invite our group of friends and then check with the old art group from high school." She started to say, "Oh, and why not the football team! And the lacrosse team and the school mascot! Oh my god, I wonder if he still has his costume; that would be hilarious!" She said, laughing.
The Lacrosse team, Chris.
From that moment on, my mind went on pause, and I didn't really pay attention to what Julia was saying.
It had been so long since I had heard about him. After my departure, I hadn't received any news from him. And it was my fault. Every time Julia tried to talk to me about him, I immediately shut down. I thought with time the pain would fade, but it was false. Four months after my departure, my heart still bled as much as the last time he passed by my window. I had done everything to stop thinking about him and turn the page, and I had done it so well that I almost forgot that by returning to Boston, I would also be returning to him.
"Y/n, are you listening?" Julia said, raising her voice, bringing me back to reality.
"Huh? What? Sorry, Julia, I'm exhausted. I think I need to rest for tomorrow; the journey will be long. Can I call you back later?" I said, stuttering a bit, still destabilized by my thoughts.
"Yeah, sure, don't worry. See you tomorrow. Love you, bye," she said warmly.
"Love you, bye," I said with a small smile before hanging up and placing my phone next to me.
Chris.
Is it normal that my heart still bleeds so much for a high school crush? Am I just too sensitive? Is it because he's the only man I've ever let into my heart until now?
Questions kept piling up in my mind, and no matter how much I shook my head, they wouldn't leave me.
Anxiety eventually took over the excitement. What will happen if we see each other again? Will we even meet? Does he still think about me too? Is his heart still bleeding as well? Did he drown in sorrow when our story ended?
More and more questions. I better close my eyes; tomorrow is a big day...
_______
My morning passed extremely quickly. I woke up a bit late, so I was in a hurry. I got ready quickly, gathered my things, and said goodbye to my roommate not to miss my flight.
My parents picked me up at the airport, and I didn't expect warm hugs, but it was still hurtful to barely get a 'how are you?' The whole ride to the house was filled with discussions about my results and how my life was going there.
It had been a while since I saw them, so I just decided to suck it up, smile, and play the perfect little girl I always portrayed in Boston.
"No, I'm just saying that just because your results are satisfactory doesn't mean you don't need extra courses, you know, those things look good on your record," my mother continued to ramble when we finally arrived home.
God, this journey felt longer than my high school years!
"Yeah, I know, Mom. I'll think about it; can we discuss it later? I'm tired," I said before leaving the car.
Once my suitcase was unpacked, I thought I would have a moment of respite to finally collapse into my bed and rest from this exhausting start to the day. But that was without counting on the stormy arrival of my best friend.
"Y/NNNNN!!!" she screamed, rushing towards me to hug me.
With fatigue and confusion, it took me a few seconds to realize it was indeed her standing in front of me, and suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by my emotions. Tears started to well up, blurring my vision.
"Oh my god, Ju'!" I said, stammering and nervously laughing.
"If you start crying, you know I'll cry too, so stop that right now," she warned me, furrowing her brows not to start crying herself.
"Sorry, sorry!" I said, chuckling and wiping my eyes. "I missed you so much!!" I said, shaking my hands before hugging her again.
I spent the rest of my day with her, talking about everything that had changed in my life since my departure, and for the first time in a long time, I felt genuinely good.
I felt like I was recharging, regaining all the positive energy I had been missing.
"Anyway, you know me; I wasn't going to let a jerk like him talk to me like that. So, I preferred to end our relationship, and it's for the best!" Julia told me.
She had just told me about her latest relationship with one of the lacrosse team players from our high school, and as usual, I couldn't help but think of him.
"Are you sure everything's okay, y/n? Since I started talking about Tom, I feel like you're not really here anymore?" she asked, concerned.
"No! Well, yes, it's okay; don't worry. It's just that—" I began to say before cutting myself off with a sigh. "It's nothing; it's just my return here made me rethink everything that happened before I left," I confessed.
"You mean what happened with Chris?" she said, giving me a sympathetic look. "Sorry, I know we're not supposed to talk about him. Excuse me, I forgot—" she added before I interrupted her.
"No, Julia, it's fine; it's okay. I'm better; I assure you it doesn't bother me anymore," I lied, smiling and grabbing her hand. "I'm better, I promise it doesn't bother me anymore," I lied.
"You know I love you," she said, smiling and squeezing my hand.
"Yeah, I know, I love you too," I replied, chuckling.
After this little discussion, Julia stayed overnight at my place. I eventually gave in and agreed to have the party at her house.
Deep down, I had a bit of hope to come across Chris. I know I shouldn't, but it's stronger than me...
I mean, I would like to know what he's become. Has he continued with lacrosse? Did he go to university? Or has he found a job he's passionate about? Does he still smoke? Has he rebuilt his life with other girls after me?
In a way, I wanted to know to reassure myself that he was doing better and that what I did didn't hurt him too much.
But on the other hand, selfishly, I hoped he had waited for me, that he hadn't seen other girls, and that he was still hoping, just like me, that one day we would meet again.
And God, I know how contradictory it is of me to hope for that when that night I made it clear to him that there would be no chance of things working out. But no matter how much I fought against what I wanted, I knew that my heart was still in his hands, and his alone.
I hate myself for being so stupid and not being able to move on, even though it was just a relationship between two completely lost teenagers for a few weeks.
But I had never experienced anything so genuine. Every conversation, every look, every caress, and every kiss haunt me...
They're still there in a corner of my mind, even though I try to push them away and tell myself it's for the best. My soul screams at me to find his. Maybe that was my punishment—for making him believe that our story could last, for making him believe that the girl he truly loved existed when it wasn't the case.
_________
"Are you sure it doesn't bother you that the lacrosse team is here tonight?" Julia asked me for the hundredth time today.
After our little pajama party at my place last night, we went to her place in the afternoon to prepare for the party tonight.
We were finishing getting ready, and people were supposed to arrive any minute.
"Ju', as I've repeated to you throughout the day, it's fine, it doesn't bother me. And besides, if you don't invite the lacrosse team, what excuse will you find to invite your little Tom and make him regret it?" I said mockingly to tease her.
"Ahaha, very funny. You know very well that I would have found a way, one way or another, to make him regret it!" she added, giving me a playful punch on the shoulder, making me chuckle.
"No, more seriously, y/n, if you're not ready to see Chris tonight, I don't mind kicking the lacrosse team out of the party," she added, becoming serious again.
I sighed before responding, "You know, anyway, I can't ignore him for the rest of my life."
"Julia, I know you're worried about me, but it's behind me, I promise it'll be fine," I reassured her with a reassuring smile.
She began to open her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell at the entrance.
"Well, it looks like the party is about to start!" she said all hysterical, and I followed her downstairs to welcome the first people.
In the span of thirty minutes, the house filled with teenagers ready to have a blast.
There were mostly people from our old high school; we barely knew half of them, but as Julia had told me, no one refuses a party in a big house like hers during the summer vacation.
It quickly turned into chaos; people were absolutely everywhere, and bottles of alcohol were aplenty, but still no sign of Chris on the horizon.
The party was in full swing; it was almost midnight, and in my despair of not seeing Chris show up, I ended up giving in and joining the game like everyone else, downing drinks one after another, which was not really in my usual habits.
Maybe it was better this way; the more alcoholic beverages passed through my throat, the less Chris haunted my mind. After all, maybe that was my solution.
"Oh, shit, sorry!" I said, bumping into a guy with my head down, making him drop his phone.
I bent down to pick it up before him, and when I raised my head, I came face to face with a face I knew all too well.
"Y/n?" the tall brunet said, looking surprised.
It took me a few seconds to realize it was indeed Matt in front of me.
Chris's brother...
"Oh my god, Matt," I said, surprised. "You're the last person I expected to see tonight!" I said, chuckling.
"And I thought you were on the other side of the country!" he said, also chuckling before opening his arms to hug me.
"What are you doing here?" he asked once our embrace was over.
If I had been a little more sober, this situation would probably have worried me, but at the moment, I was just happy to see him. Matt and I had spent very little time together, but just enough for meeting him at this party to make me super happy.
"I came back for the holidays," I replied, smiling.
"Oh, that's great," he said, smiling too. "You could have at least let us know!" he added, laughing.
"Hey, relax, I just arrived yesterday," I said, rolling my eyes.
Our conversation quickly ended, giving way to an awkward silence. So, without really thinking, I asked him the first question that came to my mind, "Did you come alone ?"
"Oh, um..." he began to say before taking a pause, as if he didn't really know if he should continue or not. "No, I came with my brothers," he said, clearing his throat and running his hand over his neck.
Chris is here.
Suddenly, everything clicked in my head; it was obvious how stupid my question was.
My head started spinning; alcohol seemed to take hold of me even more. It was as if realizing he was there for real had suddenly spiked my blood alcohol level.
"Are you okay, y/n?" he said, placing his hand on my shoulder, looking worried as he saw me pale.
"Um, yeah - yeah, don't worry, I'm just - I've had a bit to drink, you know, it's not really my thing!" I said with a nervous laugh, trying to hide my distress at the moment.
"Do you want me to get you a glass of water? Or something else? I'm sorry if it's me who put you in this state by talking about—" he started to say before I cut him off.
"No! - Matt, it's fine, everything's okay, it's not your fault. I'm just, I just need some fresh air, that's all," I added.
"Um, okay, do you want me to come with you?" he asked, and I could feel how uncomfortable he felt for me at that moment, and that was really the last thing I wanted.
"That's really nice, Matt, but it's okay, thank you. I'll be fine," I told him with a smile before walking towards the exit.
As I moved through the crowd, I prayed not to run into Chris. I didn't want to see him. I thought I was ready and that it was what I needed, but the state I am in right now proves otherwise.
Fuck this shit, I'm going to need more alcohol for sure to handle this.
In my rush towards the exit, I grabbed the first bottle of alcohol I saw lying around, whiskey - it couldn't get any harder.
Damn, will I ever manage to move on? Am I destined to feel like this for the rest of my days?
Finally reaching the front door, I felt my eyes fill with tears, making my vision completely blurry.
Once outside on the porch, I placed the bottle on the small coffee table there, sat on the outdoor couch, and allowed a few tears to flow.
I could hear the muffled sound of music inside, and paradoxically, the cicadas and the silence of the night outside.
A few minutes ago, I was fine, happy, enjoying the party with my friends, and it took me going back to thinking about him to ruin everything.
Physically, I wasn't doing that bad; I didn't feel the need to vomit or anything. I just had a bit of a spinning head and trouble standing up.
Mentally, though, it was a different story.
My sobbing was interrupted by a noise coming from a little further in the garden.
I raised my head with a start to scan the surroundings, wiping away my tears. I especially didn't want anyone to see the only girl crying at this party. I was already not considered a cool girl at school, but this would have been the icing on the cake.
There shouldn't be anyone outside; Julia had made it clear that she didn't want anyone in her mom's garden.
I spotted a silhouette in the dark, and eventually, I caught the smell of a joint. So, I sighed before getting up to get closer.
"Get out of here, idiot! Julia doesn't want anyone in her garden. It's not that complicated to follow such a simple rule," I shouted at the stranger, rolling my eyes.
He approached me until he reached the point where the porch light could illuminate him.
I took a step back, completely thrown off when I recognized his face.
"Sorry, I just got here. I didn't know we weren't allowed to hang out in the garden," he replied softly, keeping a reasonable distance from me.
"Chris?" that's all that could come out of my mouth at that moment; I was completely bewildered. What was I supposed to do at that moment?
My tears started to flow again, and I couldn't do anything to stop it.
Chris stood there, not saying anything. He was as lost as I was at that moment, but I could see that seeing me cry was far from a pleasant thing for him.
He seemed hesitant, shook his head, and muttered to himself, rolling his eyes, "Fuck this."
The next moment, he took me into his arms, letting my head rest against his chest. It was as if he understood without me needing to express myself.
I broke down, letting my tears flow; that's what I needed—his arms around me. He held me tight, and I simply didn't want this moment to end. With my right hand, I clung to his t-shirt as if my life depended on it.
"Y/n, shhhh," he whispered, caressing my hair when my breathing became irregular due to my sobs.
I couldn't breathe; I felt suffocated. The more tears that fell, the worse it got, but, on the other hand, it felt good. All these emotions I had buried, all these tears I had prevented from flowing, were finally coming out.
"Y/n, calm down," he said, grabbing my cheeks with his hands and bringing his face to mine to look me in the eyes.
"Hey, look at me, look at me, breathe, everything's fine," he reassured me, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
"I-I'm so—" I tried to speak, but I couldn't stop crying.
"I'm so sorry, Chris," I said with a broken and fragile voice, shaking my head.
"Y/n, it's okay, stop," he said, pinching his lips, and I could see tears welling up in his eyes, despite his efforts to suppress them.
"What I did—" I started, trying to calm down, "what I did to you—I had no right to do that. I'm sorry, Chris," I said, letting my head fall once again against his chest and starting to cry even harder.
"Y/n," he said, seizing my face again to look at me, "Y/n, I’m not mad at you. Look at me, I'm fine, everything's fine; it's behind us."
"It's not behind me, Chris," I told him, shaking my head and stepping back.
"It's not behind me at all. It continues to eat me up inside every day! I tried for two years!" I told him with a forced laugh, wiping my tears. "Two years, Chris, two years trying everything to get you out of my head and to stop hoping that things would go back to normal!" I added.
"Y/n—" he said, passing his hand over his face before I cut him off.
"How can you not resent me after what I did to you!?" I said, completely lost.
"Because that's life, y/n!" he said, raising his voice and advancing towards me.
"Because people come in and out of your life, tearing your heart out against their will!" he added, and I just closed my mouth; I didn't expect him to express himself like this.
"Y/n, I could have chosen to hate you, yes, it's true! I could have chosen to keep acting like an idiot and keep destroying myself slowly, as I did in the first months after you left!" he continued to say, carried away by his emotions.
"But what would it have served? What would it have served to keep making the same mistakes all my life?" he asked, and I simply nodded, dumbfounded.
"Y/n, I tried to hate you to make the pill go down more easily, believe me. But how could I hate a girl like you?" he asked, tears in his eyes.
"How could I hate the only woman who managed to open my heart and show me that there's always hope?" he continued, this time advancing towards me, and my heart started racing in my chest.
"I got my act together because you deserved someone better. You deserved to know that I was doing well, and I knew! Believe me, I knew how much you blamed yourself," he said, wiping my tears.
"That night when you told me straight in the eyes that you no longer loved me and that you no longer believed in us, I knew you were lying to protect me," he said, and I felt tears flowing again.
"You lied to me to protect me without even thinking about yourself. You put me before you, where no one had done it before," he continued, tapping his chest.
"Chris—" I said with a weak voice.
"No, I don't blame you, y/n. I don't blame you because I know you simply didn't have the choice to do that," he said, wiping my tears.
"And these last two years, I lived in doubt because I wasn't sure 100%, but when I saw your gaze on this porch, all my doubts flew away, and now I know," he said, plunging his eyes into mine.
I looked into his eyes; I had managed to regain normal breathing, and everything he had just told me had calmed my heart.
The open wound in my chest, bleeding and letting all my distress pour out, was closing.
I didn't know what to add; I didn't know what to say to him. It felt like a million things were happening in my mind, but what could it possibly mean?
And then my thoughts escaped my mind, fixating on his blue eyes, his pure eyes, his sincere gaze fixed on me.
I had forgotten how beautiful this man was.
I became aware of his warm hands on my cheeks; my heartbeat quickened, and I thought I saw a glint of desire growing in his eyes.
The silence became heavy, yet neither of us wanted to say anything.
Our faces slowly approached, and my eyes juggled between his and his lips.
What was happening? Was it supposed to be good? Or bad?
I wanted to throw myself at him, yes, but was it correct? Was it the alcohol? Did I misinterpret what was happening?
"Chris—" I said in a soft, almost inaudible voice before he closed the gap between our lips.
Shivers ran through my entire body; it was soft and so good.
His soft lips moved perfectly against mine.
One of his hands resting on my cheek slid down to the small of my back.
Meanwhile, my two hands found their place on his chest, and our kiss deepened.
This kiss, originally meant to say ‘welcome home’, quickly became more profound.
Our tongues collided; things escalated. The hand that rested on my waist descended to grip my hip, while one of my hands left his chest to settle on the side of his neck.
I felt something reignite in me, something I hadn't felt in a very long time: desire.
I became aware of what was happening, and I snapped out of this trance by stepping back and opening my eyes.
I caught my breath before telling him, "Chris."
"I'm sorry," he said, catching his breath too.
"We can't do this; we can't revisit this. I'm back in Boston only for the holidays," I said, shaking my head, trying to think of something else.
"Sorry, I don't know what came over me; I shouldn't have." he said, running his hand through his hair.
"It's okay," I said, stepping towards him and placing my hand on his shoulder.
"I just found you again when I didn't think I'd have this chance; I want to do things right," I confessed.
"So, does that mean we're friends now?" he asked, and his question tore at my heart because, of course, I didn't want to be just friends. But things were too complicated for us to allow anything more.
"Yes, it means we're friends," I said, smiling slightly, and he returned a smile.
"I missed you," he said, hugging me.
"Missed you too," I replied, "feels like it's been ages since we last caught up," I added, chuckling.
"You must have hundreds of things to tell me then," he said, separating and smiling.
"I don't want to spoil your evening with my stories; it can wait," I told him, running my hand through my nape.
"Y/n, I went out to smoke a joint alone because this party is really lame," he said, rolling his eyes, "so believe me, I'd rather sit here with you and listen to everything you have to tell me."
"Hey, it's my comeback night, you're not allowed to say it's lame!" I told him, offended, giving him a shoulder punch.
"Okay, okay, sorry!" he said, laughing, before sitting on the couch, and I followed suit.
He took a joint out of his pocket, and before lighting it, he turned to me. "Hmm, want some?"
"Oh no, thanks, I'll stick to this tonight," I said, grabbing the bottle I'd left on the small table.
"Whiskey?" he said, surprised, "who are you?" he joked.
"Shut up, idiot, I grabbed the first bottle I came across on my way here," I said, rolling my eyes.
The conversation flowed naturally between us; it was almost as if we had never been apart. Of course, in two years, both he and I had changed a lot, so it was a bit strange. However, that connection, that complicity we had, seemed intact.
I'm not sure how long we stayed on that porch, talking, but the bottle I had drunk was already half empty, and Chris must have been on his third joint since the beginning of our conversation.
"I can't believe you told him that!" Chris said, laughing.
"I warned you; I'm not the helpless little girl I used to be," I replied, chuckling and shrugging.
"Yeah, I saw that," he said, gradually stopping his laughter.
The silence returned, and I was lost in my thoughts, already quite tipsy and in a curious mood.
I had been hesitating for several minutes, debating whether to ask him a question. The more I drank, the more I wanted to ask, even though I knew it wasn't the best idea.
"Chris?" I finally said softly, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?" he simply replied, turning his head towards me.
"Can I ask you a question?" I asked him timidly.
"You just did," he said with a smirk.
"No, seriously, stop it!" I said, laughing and giving him a shoulder punch.
He straightened up, turning completely towards me, resting his head on his hand with his arm leaning against the top of the couch. "Seriously, I'm listening," he said, still with that sly smile.
His eyes were red and squinted because of the weed, and I won't lie, it made him quite sexy... or maybe I had had a bit too much to drink; what was I even saying?
"Have you dated other girls since we broke up?" I asked, instantly regretting it.
"Y/n—" he began before I cut him off.
"Sorry, that was a dumb question. I don't know what got into me," I said, hiding my face with my hands.
He chuckled at my action. "It's okay; I don't mind answering if you answer too..." he said, shrugging.
I removed my face from my hands to look up at him.
"But are you sure you really want to hear my answer?" he added.
I just nodded.
"I've slept with other girls, yes," he began, and I cut him off without thinking.
"How many?" I asked, sitting up.
"I don't really know, two or three, but they were just casual things, especially at the beginning when I needed to distract myself," he explained, feeling the need to justify himself.
"Okay... and why?" I asked.
"Why what?" he asked, confused.
"Why casual? In two years, you had plenty of time to find another amazing girl to be with. You can't make me believe that as the first one to fall for you, no other girl wanted you," I said, rolling my eyes.
"I didn't want to..." he confessed to me. "I— " he started before sighing, "I'm not sure if it's a good idea to explain why," he said, looking away.
"No, tell me; I want to know now," I urged him.
"Y/n," he said, looking me in the eyes.
"Chris, please, it's okay; we're just talking," I said, eager to know more.
"None of those girls were comparable to you," he admitted, "and I know it sounds silly, but it's just the truth. I couldn't get interested in those girls, and it wasn't their fault; they were interesting, and in another context, it might have worked with them," he said honestly.
"But my mind kept comparing them to you; none of them talked like you," he started saying, "none of them laughed like you," he added.
"None of them kissed like you," he said, looking at my lips, and I felt my panties dampen at that. Fuck.
"Every time I slept with another girl, I couldn't help but think of you, your body, and your moans," he said, lost in his thoughts.
"I couldn't stop thinking about how your lips wrapped so perfectly around me," he said, and I had to slightly open my mouth to get more air.
He shook his head, snapping back to reality. "Anyway, until now, I haven't been able to settle down with another girl because the only one I have in my mind is you," he said shyly.
I stared at him, mouth agape. I was dying to have him; everything he just told me had me way too excited.
"And you?" he asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.
"What?" I said, clearing my throat.
"And you, have you dated other guys?" he said, chuckling.
"Oh!" I said, blushing. "No, none," I replied timidly.
"None?" he repeated, surprised, and I simply shook my head from side to side.
"And how many guys have you slept with then?" he asked.
I took a moment to answer, embarrassed by the situation.
"Y/n, it's okay; you can tell me. I just told you mine!" he said, rolling his eyes.
"I-" I said before sighing and biting my lip, and he furrowed his brows.
"None..." I said softly.
His eyes widened at my response.
"Are you serious?" he asked to make sure.
"Stop it; you know very well that I'm not the type to sleep around," I said, feeling awkward.
"No, I know that; it's just hard for me to conceive that you've managed two years without sex," he said with a smirk.
"Wait, what does that mean?" I said, furrowing my brows.
"Y/n, when we were together, you played the innocent a lot, but you can't deny that you were just as horny as I was, if it’s not more…" he said, laughing.
"Chris!" I said, bringing my hand to my mouth before chuckling as well.
"No, I'm not saying it's a bad thing; on the contrary, it was something I loved about you," he said honestly.
"I even found it rather sexy..." he added, shrugging.
I squeezed my thighs together at that moment, and Chris noticed because I saw his eyes leave mine and land on my thighs.
"We should change the subject," I said, taking a deep breath and running my hands over my thighs, a bit embarrassed.
"Sorry, I didn't know it would have that effect on you," he said, unable to help but smile.
"It's okay," I said, biting my lip.
We looked at each other for a moment, both feeling a bit awkward.
His eyes briefly shifted to my chest, and that was the last straw for me.
Without thinking twice, I straddled him, immediately connecting our lips. He didn't waste a second to put his hands on my hips, making me moan.
He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, and I started rocking my hips against him, making him groan in response.
His hands came to grip my hips to stop my movements, eliciting a frustrated groan from me.
"Y/n, this isn't right," he said, separating our lips.
"Chris, I don't care," I said, reconnecting our lips instantly. I was too hungry to stop there.
My hip movements resumed, and I could feel his erection through his jeans.
My hands were on his cheeks, and his hands firmly held my hips.
"You said we should do things right and that we were friends," he said, separating our lips again.
"Y/n, you've been drinking, and I don't want it to be something you regret tomorrow," he added.
"Some friends sleep together sometimes..." I said innocently, playing with his necklace.
He bit his lip and looked away. If there was one thing that could make this man weak, it was my way of acting innocently with him.
"Y/n," he said, closing his eyes and letting out a frustrated groan.
I knew I could make him crack; I just had to tease him enough.
I buried my head in his neck to kiss and leave a few love bites.
He tossed his head back to give me better access. "Fuck..." he whispered, and I slowly resumed my hip movements.
"Y/n, stop this," he said weakly, still with his fingers dug into my hips.
"Make me stop," I whispered in his ear before leaving a trail of kisses on his jawline.
"Y/n," he said in a firm voice this time, grabbing me by the neck to make me face him. "Don't play with my nerves like that."
"Chris, please," I said, gripping the wrist of the hand around my neck.
"I'm the one asking you. It's just a favor we're doing each other as friends," I said with a slight moan. "You help me fill the void I've felt for 2 years, and I give you the opportunity not to have to just imagine fucking me for once," I added.
"You said it yourself, no girl moans like me, no one kisses you like me, and their lips don't wrap around you as well as mine do," I continued to convince him.
"It's just a one-time thing. After that, I swear we'll be just friends for real, please, Chris, I need you," I pleaded.
I don't know if it was the alcohol or simply the lack of sex, but I never thought I'd be capable of saying such things to a guy in my life.
"Just a one-time thing?" he asked.
"Just a one-time thing," I replied, nodding.
"Fuck, this is so fucking wrong, y/n. What are you doing to me?" he said before kissing me again without removing his hand from my neck.
He slid his hand under my dress to grab my ass and massage it while helping me grind against him.
"Mmph, Chris," I moaned into our kiss.
"Shhhh," he said, slapping my ass.
I started pulling at his T-shirt to signal that I wanted him to take it off.
"Not here, princess," he said, smiling against my lips before separating them. "Stand up," he ordered, and I obeyed.
He stood up as well, firmly grabbing my hand before guiding us inside.
We quickly made our way through the crowd, passing by Nick, who tried to stop us, but Chris simply ignored him, too busy at that moment trying not to bend me over one of the tables in the house to fuck me in front of everyone.
We climbed the stairs, and Chris opened the first door he saw, which happened to lead to Julia's room. If she finds out about this, she's going to kill me.
He slammed the door shut behind us, making sure to lock it.
Then, he pressed me against that door, tightening his grip around my neck just enough to restrict the blood flow, causing my head to spin.
He wasted no time in forcefully removing my dress, it was so abrupt that he could have torn it if he wanted.
"Chris, be careful, take it easy," I said, chuckling, before he silenced me with yet another kiss.
"Don't ask me to fucking take it easy when you've spent the last 10 minutes teasing me on that damn couch, y/n," he said, removing his T-shirt.
He took off my bra, adding, "I fucking missed you."
The next moment, he slid his hands to the back of my thighs and lifted me, making me moan in surprise. It seemed like the hold he had on me back then hadn't changed.
He reconnected our lips, heading towards the bed where he tossed me, making me moan again from the sudden force.
"Chris," I sighed in a heated breath as I sat up, facing him at waist height.
But before I could reach for his belt to undress him, he violently pushed me back. "You'll move when I tell you to move. Have you forgotten your manners?" he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
His gaze was dark and intense; he could have threatened to kill me, and I would have moaned because of how much he affected me.
"Touch yourself," he ordered.
"What?" I said, feeling my face turn all red.
"Don't make me repeat myself; you heard me," he said authoritatively.
I swallowed hard before starting to take off my panties.
"I didn't tell you to remove your panties," he said, interrupting me.
"But—" I began to say before he cut me off.
"Is it so hard to be a good girl, Y/n? In two years, have you forgotten everything?" he said, shaking his head.
His words made me even wetter; I dreamed of one thing only: feeling him inside me.
"No, sorry," I said before starting to make circular motions on my clit through my panties.
He licked his lips, slowly removing his belt without taking his eyes off me.
"Stand up," he ordered.
Without hesitation, I stood up, still looking at him innocently in the eyes.
"You are so fucking beautiful, Y/n," he said, holding me by the chin.
His compliment made me immediately smile and blush.
"Your wrists," he asked, letting go of my chin, and I handed him my wrists.
With his belt, he tied my wrists together before kissing me.
He leaned towards me without breaking our lips to signal me to lie down on the mattress, which I did.
He separated our lips for a brief moment to press my arms above my head. "Don't move," he whispered before sliding his lips into my neck.
"My poor baby, I can't believe you've abstained for 2 years," he said before descending his kisses towards my chest.
"Now that I'm here, I'll take care of that for you, my princess," he said, circling one of my nipples with his lips to kiss it.
"Chris, please," I moaned, wriggling a bit.
"Shhhh, be patient, believe me, I won't stop there," he said before starting to descend his kisses towards my lower abdomen.
The closer he got to my thighs, the more I felt like I was losing my mind. It had been so long since I had felt that burning desire between my legs.
"Fuck, Chris, stop, please, I need you," I pathetically begged when he started to kiss my pussy through my panties.
He just chuckled at my pleas before removing my panties and diving his head between my legs.
He surrounded my clit with his lips, and I couldn't hold back the moans that escaped my mouth at that moment.
Lost in my own pleasure and especially completely carried away by the sensation of his tongue against me, I brought my two hands, still tied, to his hair to hold on.
He lifted his lips from me, making me raise my head towards him. "No, don't stop, Chris!" I said desperately.
"I told you not to move, Y/n," he reminded me, placing my hands back above my head.
"I'm sorry, I had—" I was interrupted in the middle of my sentence by his hands abruptly grabbing my waist to turn me over.
"What are you doing?" I said in a surprised moan when he grabbed my hips to put my ass in the air.
"This way, you'll have a much harder time moving," he said, and I could hear the smugness in his tone.
He kissed the base of my lower back, making me shiver, ensuring that my head remained pressed against the mattress below me.
He then placed a few kisses on my ass before resuming his work between my legs.
One of his hands kneaded my ass while he teased my entrance with the fingers of his other hand.
"Oh my—Chris," I said when he accelerated his tongue movements.
The sensation in my lower abdomen that I hadn't felt in so long was building up again; I was extremely close.
"C-Chris, I'm gonna cum," I moaned, burying my head in the pillow to try to muffle the sound of my moans.
"Give it to me, baby," he said, inserting two of his fingers into me and reconnecting his tongue to my clit.
"Fuck, Chris!" I exclaimed, feeling my legs tremble, and within seconds, my orgasm overwhelmed me.
Chris didn't detach his lips from me; he continued, and his fingers didn't slow down either. "Chris, I- I can't," I told him, breathless.
He detached himself from me at the sound of my words and turned me over again onto the mattress to kiss me.
I put my hands, still tied behind his neck, to bring him impossibly closer to me, which seemed to amuse him, judging by the way he smiled against my lips.
"You taste so fucking good, baby," he complimented me between our kisses, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
I was still very sensitive, but I wanted more, I needed more.
So, I tightened my legs around his waist so that his erection pressed against my pussy.
"Are you that impatient?" he chuckled before reaching between our bodies to unbutton his pants, and I just nodded.
He straightened up to completely remove his pants and boxers before returning to position himself between my legs.
"If it hadn't been so long, I would've edged you for hours," he said, rubbing his tip against my thighs without entering.
"Chris, please, stop talking—" Before I could finish my sentence, he entered me without warning, making me moan in harmony with him.
"Oh my god, y/n, fuck, you're so—" I didn't let him finish his sentence, immediately capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.
He started moving inside me slowly, taking care to go all the way in with each thrust.
Our lips were still connected, our tongues perfectly synchronized—everything was perfect with him.
His pelvic movements accelerated, prompting me to throw my head back to moan once again.
"God, I'll never get tired of the sounds you make. Fuck, it's too good," Chris said, moaning as well, his head completely immersed in my neck, where he left fiery kisses.
"Chris—mmph," I started to speak but couldn't formulate my words correctly. Chris fucked me so well that I lost my words.
"What, baby? What do you want?" he said, seizing my chin to make me look into his eyes.
"I want to—fuck!" I said, moaning and closing my eyes. I felt him everywhere in me; it was too good.
"You can do it, sweetheart. Take your time," he said with a smirk, not slowing down.
"I want to touch you," I said, moaning again. "Please, Chris, I need to feel you," I begged.
He momentarily straightened up without pulling out to unfasten the belt around my wrists.
"Here you go, baby," he said in a soft voice before kissing me again.
This time, my hands went into his hair, neck, and back. I dug my nails into his back and biceps, completely controlled by my pleasure, and began to feel all these sensations invade me.
"Chris, oh my god, I'm so close!" I whined.
He sat up on his knees without pulling out. I moaned as he grabbed my legs and pulled them closer, penetrating even deeper.
"Mmmh, Chris," I moaned, raising my head to look at him.
"Shhhh," he said, placing my legs on either side of his head and encircling my knees with his arms to make sure I couldn't move.
He began thrusting into me at an unbearable speed, and the new angle allowed him to go really deep. His eyes were fixed on the lower part of my belly, where he could see himself entering and exiting. "Fuck," he exclaimed, keeping his mouth open.
"Chris! Chris, fu—god, don't stop!" I said, feeling my orgasm hit me hard when I started clenching around him. He spread my legs again to kiss me while still penetrating me, allowing me to ride out my orgasm.
He gradually stopped his pelvic movements while continuing to kiss me. Our kiss was tired and messy, but he didn't stop there.
We were both catching our breath. He separated our lips, pressing his forehead against mine. We stayed like that for a few seconds before he straightened up and withdrew from me, making me moan because I was still extremely sensitive.
I expected anything but what he did the next second. He grabbed me by the hips and turned me over again, pushing me on all fours.
"Chris, what—" Before I could finish my sentence, he started pounding into me without mercy, making me cry out in surprise and pleasure.
"Oh my fuck, Chris, I can't!" I told him, burying my head in the pillow once again.
"Yes, of course, you can. I know you have one more for me," he said without slowing down this time, bringing his fingers to my clit, making my eyes roll back in my head.
It felt so good, but I was still too sensitive; he didn't give me enough respite. I felt like my heart was going to give out from the intensity. I couldn't help but moan, even though I was unsure if I really wanted him to stop because I could already feel my third orgasm approaching.
"Do you really want me to stop?" he said in my ear, slowing down and pressing his chest against my back.
When he slowed down, I felt my orgasm slipping away, and I thought I was losing my mind. "No! Don’t stop, I can take it!" I said, shaking my head.
He wrapped his arm around my throat to hold me in place "that's my girl," he said and sank his teeth into my shoulder, mixing pleasure and pain in the best way possible. He sped up again, his fingers massaging my clit, and his shaft going as deep as possible, making me see stars.
I was close, and so was he; I could feel it in the way he moaned. "Y/n, oh my—"
"Chris, I'm so close," I cried, feeling my orgasm on the verge of exploding.
"Give it to me, baby. Fuck, cum for me, princess," he said, and that was all I needed to climax. This one was more intense than the others, stronger and more hypnotic.
After a few more thrusts, Chris also came, moaning my name in my ear. "Oh my god," he said, breathless, before pulling out and collapsing beside me.
I didn't move a muscle, too exhausted from everything that had just happened. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked, concerned, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Yes, I'm fine. I just need to catch my breath," I replied, chuckling.
He laughed too before getting up to find something to clean me up. After a few minutes catching my breath in Chris's arms, we decided to get dressed and join our friends downstairs before someone noticed our absence.
And when I say someone, I obviously mean Julia, who will probably kill me when she finds out I slept with Chris in her bed.
Before leaving Julia's room, Chris kissed me one last time. "I missed you so fucking much," he said.
I chuckled before replying, "I missed you too, but we need to leave this room now." I said playfully, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.
We finally left the room, and our paths separated when we arrived in the living room because Nick needed to talk to Chris privately.
I was about to join my best friend when I felt someone grab my arm.
I turned to see who it was and found myself face to face with a girl with brown hair and light eyes.
"Who the fuck are you?" she asked me, full of rage.
I was completely confused because I didn't know this girl at all, and I didn't understand why she was addressing me this way.
"Hmm? Y/n, who are you?" I asked, furrowing my brows.
Her eyes widened when she heard my name, and she let out a fake laugh at my response.
"I'm Tess, Chris's girlfriend!" she said with a big smile before approaching me. "So I suggest you keep your distance from him if you don't want me to bash your little depraved slut face!" she said, pushing me before turning on her heel and walking away.
Chris's girlfriend?!!
What the fuck?
Taglist: @chrisloyalgf @christopherscamopants @blahbel668 @thematthewlover @mattsturnioloarchive @carolinalikesthings @bernardsgf @whicked-hazlatwhore @hearts4chris
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motherroam-rs · 10 months ago
Text
Sleep Deprivation
Relationship: Hunter x Reader
Summary: In the search for Omega, Hunter struggles to sleep and needs a push to get some rest.
Warnings/Tags: Sleep Deprivation, Angst, Comfort, uhhh I think that’s everything
Word Count: 1.2k
Notes: The first 3 episodes have me in a chokehold, I wanna see Hunter happy again - Here’s a super short angsty lil comfort fic for Hunter set just before the beginning of episode 2 🫶🫶 Apologies for any grammatical errors!
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Every noise in the Marauder seemed louder with just the three of you in it. Any hum, beep, and sigh seems to be amplified, even Gonkys small movements seemed to echo through the empty space just as loud as Wreckers snores.
Though, it’s not the only change. The ship seems too big now, and it’s hard to remember a time where it was so over-occupied that you would all fight over who got to sleep in a bunk for the night, and who had to use a sleep mat on the floor. Durasteel walls that previously made you all feel like fish packed together in a can, now seemed to stretch out impossibly, making it seem that you were planets away from the ships other two occupants.
Currently you’re sat in the co-pilot chair, preoccupied with your glitchy datapad, attempting to send an encrypted message to Echo for any updates from the clone network. You’re biting down on a sigh at how you wished Tech were here to fix it for you when Wrecker nudges your foot with his own.
You look up, puzzled at the man but your silent question is answered by the attempted jerk of his head. Behind you both sits Hunter, staring abysmally at the control board of flashing lights with his fist tightened around a horn from Roland Durand. The lights cast a harsh shadow on his features and your lips can’t help but work themselves into a frown at the dark circles beneath his eyes.
It had been well over 24 hours since he last slept.
Glitchy datapad now abandoned, you give a quick nod in thanks to Wrecker, before leaving the cockpit to approach Hunter. His chair doesn’t turn, and despite his enhanced senses and the lack of noise in the ship to cover your steps in any way, he gives no indication that he’s heard you. You follow his line of sight to both Tech’s goggles and Lula, both of the items bringing a pain to your chest.
“Hunter?” You press your hand to his armored shoulder, and he finally turns to look at you, slightly startled and you can’t even recall a time that you’ve ever caught him so off guard. Now that he’s facing you, the exhaustion is evident in more than just the dark circles under his eyes, his body seems to slump against the support of the chair in some sort of emotional defeat.
He’s been running himself into the ground over the last few days in pursuit of the Pyke needed in order to get the lead you had all been after, but at least you and Wrecker still managed to somewhat take care of your basic needs of sleep and rations.
Before you can speak, he turns back towards the controls, as if sensing what you were going to say about the neglect to his sleep schedule.
“Tech made this all seem… easy.” Gloved hands gesture to the console of flashing lights, his throat bobbing with a dry swallow as he shakes his head. “All of it takes me twice as long as it took him.”
Hunters hand pinches the bridge of his nose, the same way he does when he has an oncoming headache and your hand presses to the unarmoured section between his shoulder and neck, an area that is usually covered by his scarf. At the touch, his eyes close and lips part with a soft release of breath.
He needs to sleep.
“Come to bed, Hunter.” The whisper echoes through the too-quiet ship, amplified like every other noise, and for a moment it looks like he’s going to refuse. He doesn’t speak, but gives a slight nod of his head, and brushes your hand away to stand and begin removing his armor as he follows you on the way to your shared bunk.
After so long of racing to be the first one on the Marauder after a mission to secure your own bunk for a night, there was some sad irony in the fact that you now couldn’t sleep alone. Following the loss of Tech, and the painful absences of Omega and Echo, all attempts to adjust to the atmosphere of loneliness on the ship were almost painful.
At the start, you think you barely managed a standard 8 hours across 3 full day cycles, let alone in one night, and your restlessness didn’t go unnoticed by Hunter, who had probably slept even less than you. On the fourth night of staring at the ceiling and trying to muffle your quiet crying in the too-silent ship, he had abandoned his bunk beneath you and climbed into your own. His arms allowed you the comfort of not grieving alone that night, and almost every night since.
At some point, it delved into more than simply finding comfort in each other so you could both sleep, sending you far enough past the line of friends for Wrecker to tease you both in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the Marauder.
Now only wearing the lower half of his blacks, Hunter lifts himself into the shared top bunk, and offers you a hand up, immediately pulling you into him once you’re safely up. In the small confines of the bunk, you’re entirely pressed to his firm body, yet he still holds you tightly against his bare chest as if fearing you’d slip away the moment his eyes closed.
He’s pulled the thin blanket over you both, but with the heat of his body it’s more than enough to keep you warm. “We’ll get her back.” You murmur against Hunters chest in assurance as one of his hands pulls your leg across his own, entangling the two of you together.
You feel his hand twitch against you, “It’s been a long time, and we still don’t know where she is, the only lead we can get right now is by handing over a Pyke to the Durand family.” His voice is heavy with exhaustion and you crane your neck up, lifting yourself from his chest to place your hand on his stubble covered jaw, forcing him to look at you.
“We’ll get her back, Hunter, but you need to sleep.” You lean in to press a kiss to the lips that seem to have set themselves into an ever present frown since that day on Ord Mantell.
Hunters hand presses to your face to mirror your own, his other arm tightening around your waist protectively as he kisses you back. Even when you pull away and rest your head back on his chest, his fingers continue to trace slow patterns on your waist, still refusing to let you go as he gives in to his tiredness.
You wait for his breathing to slow, ensuring he’s asleep before you allow yourself to close your eyes and follow him. In the night, you dream of living together in a house on Pabu, where the only echoing noise is Omegas laugh, where there are no empty spaces to make you feel lonely, and where Hunter can finally rest.
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shanastoryteller · 1 year ago
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Happy Pride! One of the genderbendy stories, please? Lady Mo, maybe?
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40
Xuanyu groans and rolls her eyes when Lan Wangji insists on treating her wounds before they continue, but apparently decides she's tested his patience enough for one evening because she says, "Fine," and and begins to untie her robe.
He steps closer and grabs her wrists. "What are you doing?"
She looks up at him and this close he can see the exhaustion lingering in her dark eyes. "You just said you wanted to bandage me up before we left again!"
"You cannot undress in front of," he gestures around them.
She frowns, following his hand, and then looks down at herself. "Oh. Right, forgot that mattered now." He quirks an eyebrow and she blinks, face going a shade paler before she pastes a too wide smile across her face. "Okay, well, the carriage then?" She doesn't wait for him to answer, instead raising her voice to shout, "Sizhui, make sure our guests get something to eat before we get moving."
"Yes, Lady Xuanyu," Sizhui says, more formerly than he would normally, but Sizhui takes after him in that he tends to fall back on formality when he's feeling out of sorts.
Lan Wangji sighs and leads her to the carriage with a hand on the small of her back. His instinct is to grab her arm and drag her there, but she gets squirmy and argumentative, and he's had quite enough of both.
She hops into the carriage, only wincing at little at the sudden motions, and he follows her in, setting down the supplies he'd grabbed and then closing the doors firmly behind them.
"It's really not that bad," she says as she undoes her robes and slides them down her shoulders. "We'll have time to bathe when we arrive at Koi Tower and I could have just cleaned them there. They don't really need bandages."
He ignores her and doesn't let his eyes linger on her breasts even as he gets flash of memory of closing his lips around a small, dark nipple and biting, his tongue running the indents his teeth had left in soft flesh.
"You didn't need to go running off alone," he says, hoping it's dark enough that she doesn't see the flush he can feel crawling up his neck.
She scoffs as he presses a damp cloth against the stab wound between her shoulder and collarbone, cleaning away the tacky blood. "Song Lan needed help and he's my friend."
Lan Wangji wants to ask once again how in the world she knew were Xiao Xingchen was, how she'd been able to lead Song Lan right to him, but one issue at a time. "You could have told us that and we would have helped."
"Uh huh," she says.
He presses down harder than he'd intended and she hisses in pain. He pulls back, grudgingly admitting to himself that she was right. The wound has already closed and the bruises covering her chest have turned a sickly yellow, looking days old rather than hours. He's never seen anyone improve a golden core so quickly before, especially using such dubious methods.
He doesn't want to say the wrong thing, so he gives himself time to gather his thoughts as he wrings out the cloth. "We are not the Mo. Or the Jin."
"Uh, yeah? I noticed," she answers, pulling her robes open even wider to reveal even more bruised skin and the curved slice around her right hip.
"Have you," he asks quietly, keeping his touch gentle as he cleans the blood from thigh. "You are not - you don't have to," he stops, taking a deep breath and pausing his motions so he doesn't accidentally hurt her again. "You are not required to tell me anything that you don't want me to know. However. I am your husband."
"I noticed that too," she says, voice coming out low, and Lan Wangji does not allow himself to be distracted by the fact that he's kneeling over his mostly naked wife, her body small and soft and strong, evening bleeding and bruised.
"Then you should act like it," he returns, and odd reversal of their argument after the waterfall. "In the Lan you are not a bastard daughter but my legitimate wife. If you'd told me you wished to assist Song Lan, I would have helped you, and others would have volunteered to accompany us. You would not have needed to go alone. "
Xuanyu glares at him, somehow even more compelling with the anger brightening her eyes. "I was fine alone. I didn't need you."
"This is not about needing," he says softly, "but about having. Whether you need me or not is irrelevant. You have me. Next time I hope you remember that."
He ties her inner robe together before jumping out of the carriage, leaving her to redress herself. He feels the weight of her gaze on him, but she doesn't say anything.
Lan Wangi sighs, rubbing at his forehead. He drops into the seat next to his brother, noting Sizhui and Jingyi sitting at the same table as their guests and insistently putting more and more food on their plates over their protests. Well, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen's protests. A-Qing seems quite happy to eat everything put in front of her.
Xichen raises an eyebrow.
"How long did it take Jin Guangyao to trust you?" he asks impulsively, regretting asking almost as soon as it's out of his mouth.
Xichen sighs, "Oh, Wangji," and doesn't answer.
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