#my anxiety is a butt and makes it difficult for me to post my own stuff because I think its terrible but I am trying to be better about it

[silsdragonart]

Okay first of all thank you so much for reblogging my sales post but ALAS I NO LONGER HAVE THOSE BABIES!! OLD POST XD But also I AM SO FLATTERED YOU HAVE TWO OF MY BABIES BEFORE - I've actually been holding off on breeding that pair for a while because not been inspired of late but those tags just filled me with such warmth, thank you, I may pop them on a nest soon just to see what comes out and what inspires me <3

I MUST CHECK OUT YOUR LAIR AGAIN AND HUNT DOWN MY PAST BABBIES <3

@siennasproductiveadventures Waaah. I'm so far behind on things I just saw your post (because I follow you and saw lore babies on my dash and then read them and was like. wow I already love them lemme just reblog and support these kids). aw! If you do I'll be excited to see any babies that come from it! I said it in my tags but I'll write it again! I see your lore babies post (and even before I had taken a break from fr and stuff just your lore was always amazing and I love it on my dash) and honestly, I have to FIGHT to not want to buy all of them instantly. I am absolutely weak to lore babies. I love it and just you're so creative and I'm sitting over here going: wow look at me needing all of them and then having to go look at my hoard and bank being like, gotta count the monies to throw at you thanks.

So many people have such good lore stories/ideas for their dragons on site and I'm just like. I don't need any money as I sob into my empty bank when I find out people are selling lore bbs. There is no saving money but I'm trying my best. But yeah!!! I have two from you specifically from that pair are: Caron and Margeaux. I'm pretty sure I drew Margeaux a couple years ago before I sort of took a break from everything? I love them and I have the problem of NOT writing down lore stuff I have for all of the babies I own because boo anxiety. A lot of the time I just go and re-read the lore you wrote for them (and other people who I've bought lore dragons from) and just go. yes. perfect. the best children.

[buckleyblueyes]

buddie + laughter

(send me a word and a ship and I’ll give you a head canon)

Uhh so this turned into a ficlet?? I don't know what happened but there's dialogue in it and I putting it under a cut. It's angsty bc it's a post 4x14 recovery thing, but also very fluffy.

Buck first notices it a week after Eddie comes home from the hospital. He hasn't laughed. Not once. There have been a few smiles, a handful of chuckles. But he hasn't actually laughed. And Buck understands the trauma of it all, knows the nightmares that are keeping Eddie up at night and the anxiety that is thrumming under his skin at all times. He's been there, after a ladder truck exploded on him, after a tsunami tried to wash him away, and he's there again, if he's honest, after watching Eddie get shot right in front of him. So, he understands what Eddie is going through. The last thing he wants is to make Eddie feel like he has to act happier than he is--Eddie deserves space to process and feel his negative emotions.

But, the thing is. Buck loves Eddie's laugh. And even before the shooting, it was a rare thing to get a full, unguarded laugh from Eddie instead of a chuckle or a giggle. Buck prides himself on the fact that of all the people in the world, he's one of three people who can get that kind of laugh out of Eddie (the others being Christopher and Abuela), and he also just. Really misses the sound of Eddie's laugh. Not to mention the fact that Christopher has picked up on Eddie's mood and has himself been laughing less.

(If Buck is truly honest with himself, he's been laughing and smiling less, too. But this isn't about him.)

He decides he has to do something. He knows he can't make it obvious to Eddie what he's doing, so he focuses his energies on Christopher first. Everytime he sees Chris (which is often, since he's practically living on the Diaz couch for the time being) he makes sure to come prepared with a joke. Always cheesy and silly and almost impossible not to crack a smile at.

How do cows greet each other? They exchange milkshakes.

Why did the student eat his homework? The teacher told him it was a piece of cake!

Knock Knock. Who's There? Tank. Tank Who? You're Welcome.

And it works. The jokes, silly as they are, do manage to elicit giggles from Christopher, and fond eye rolls from Eddie. Buck keeps at it, and after a couple of weeks, Christopher starts to have jokes of his own, many of which are at Buck or Eddie's expense. Buck decides he would be the butt of a thousand jokes to make Christopher and Eddie laugh. Some of the jokes they exchange even get a smile or a chuckle out of Eddie, much to Buck's delight.

Eddie's recovery progresses, physically and emotionally. He goes to the department mandated therapy, and then, to everyone's pleasant surprise, he decides to keep at it. Buck is there every step of the way with encouragement, and a few corny jokes. He's not sure when he moves from only targeting Christopher, to telling them to Eddie as well, but he knows that it helps.

When Eddie is frustrated with his physical therapy, angry and tired of fighting with own body, Buck cuts the tension with a "Knock knock. Who's There? Woo. Woo Who? Glad you're excited!" which Eddie begrudgingly goes along with. When Eddie is annoyed because he can't lift something/open something, Buck swoops in with a "need a hand, or maybe an arm?" and a wink. When Eddie emerges from his bedroom early in the morning with dark circles under his eyes, Buck nudges him and says "You should go back to bed. The early bird gets the worm, but the late worm doesn't get eaten." and every time Eddie rolls his eyes and shakes his head and bites his lip to keep from smiling. It's not a laugh, but it's something.

As the months go by Buck gets more and more of a reaction for his troubles. A lip bite turns into a half smile turns into a full smile turns into a grin turns into a snort turns into a chuckle. Eddie is clearly doing better, and so is Christopher, who has turned the whole thing into a competition to see if he or Buck is funnier. But Eddie still hasn't let out a full, deep, belly laugh since before the shooting. It makes Buck's heart ache because he knows Eddie only laughs like that when he is truly relaxed and unguarded, and knowing that Eddie hasn't been able to reach that level of calm in months, that he's been on edge this whole time? It's awful.

Finally, finally, a week before Eddie is supposed to start work again, it happens. Buck finally makes Eddie laugh. It's just...not on purpose. He's over for movie night, having moved back to his own apartment by that point. He gets up to refill the popcorn bowl and trips over something Christopher left on the floor. He falls, the plastic bowl goes in the air, and lands right on his head. Eddie just loses it.

"I'm sorry--" [laugh] "Are you--" [laugh] "--okay?"

Buck glowers. "Fine, thanks."

It's not until Buck's back on the couch, fresh bowl of popcorn in his lap, Eddie running his fingers through his hair checking for bumps (because, sure, Eddie likes slapstick, but he also has to be sure Buck isn't actually hurt), and Christopher asleep up against his dad, that it occurs to Buck. "You laughed!"

"Uh. Yeah?"

"No, I mean," Buck swallows. "You haven't laughed, since..."

"Since the shooting?" Eddie finishes. "Is that what all the jokes were about? You wanted to make me laugh?"

Buck shrugs. "I know it's been hard, and you're allowed to feel however you feel. But I just...I wanted to make you happy."

Eddie's hands are still in Buck's hair, and he turns Buck's head in his hands until Buck is facing him. "You always make me happy, Buck."

Buck can't even begin to respond to that.

"You're right, things have been difficult," he nods. "I've been on edge. But having you here? The way you've taken care of Christopher, taken care of me, for the past few months, it's not nothing. In fact," Eddie hesitates, taking a deep breath, for a second before pressing on. "Buck, it's everything. You're everything."

Buck feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, just like he always feels when Eddie says these deeply meaningful things to him. There's no one in this world I trust with my son more than you. You act like you're expendable, but you're wrong.

You're everything.

Buck swallows. Glances at the movie they're supposed to be watching. Glances down at Christopher. Finally, meets Eddie's eyes, gaze heavy with anticipation. "Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"I love."

"I love who?"

"I love you."

[dex-xe]

Ghosts S03E01 - The Bone Plot

(I watched the entire series 3 in one night so here’s a running commentary of my thoughts. Likes/dislikes, bits I screamed/laughed/cried, details I noticed. Basically just a thought train from yours truly :P not that anyone’s interested - mostly just for my own analysis this

BUT Please come hit up my inbox with responses to episodes etc, I’ve had a few already that I’m in the process of answering so yeah lets chat :D)

Opening with Humphrey backstory is a bold move especially if people are just catching it and haven’t seen the show before

Oooohhhhhh documentary!!

Ahhhhhh, soooooo Humphrey wasn’t assassinated, he planned an assassination fascinating

Why does Robin not remember?? Just cause it was a long time ago??

The Captain has laughed before, right?? I’m sure I’ve seen him laugh before??

Thomas it’s not you XD

BOOOOONNNNNEEEEEE

How did they not know it was Humphrey?? She’s dressed like a fucking Tudor - absolutely no critical thinking skills at Button House. They share one braincell and the ghost pigeon has flown away with it again…

All this before the opening titles, this is gonna be a long post!!

I like that Alison starts stuttering simply at the thought of being on camera, nice set up for her anxiety about it

Robin senses the moon?? Oooohhhhh - and a Macbeth reference!!

Of course he senses Barclay arriving!!

The others calling Humphrey like a dog is so funny

Omg are we gonna get Cap/Fanny solidarity this season??? I just want them to be like a sibling relationship!!

(Pronoun correction - well done Kitty)

Did Humphrey used to paint?? Cause why else would he assume he was famous for being a painter if he wasn’t an artist in life????

Mary is a death gatekeeper, I adore that!!

Can we talk about how similar this scene is to one I wrote literally ages ago in the Ghosts Christmas story on AO3???? Like Humphrey trying to speak broken French like just how I wrote it and his wife hating English, it’s literally over dinner (well breakfast) as well?? I have the foresight of a medium apparently but only in very specific fan fiction scenarios!!

Omg live Humphrey is so cute wtf?? Why do I have a crush on him, or is it gender envy?????? Gender envy from a headless Tudor????

Poor Humphrey, all he wants is a nice wife!!

Pat stop ruining the moment!!

Oh God no?? If Barclay dies at Button House will he be stuck there???? Ah thanks for confirming that for me, Julian. Get that bitch off the property!!

Obi content, Obi content, Obi content!! My guy.

Okay but why does Fanny calling Pat out on his racist joke feel so rewarding to me??

A nun, a gorilla, and a WHAT, Patrick???? Pat making a pedo joke, did not have that on my season 3 bingo card????

Humphrey is so good to his wife, he’s making such an effort even though she’s really not making much effort back. It must have been so difficult for them both though seriously

She speaks English???

What’s happening?? OOOOhhhh they’re gonna kill Queen Elizabeth and put I’m assuming Mary Queen of Scots on the throne?? Cause they’re Catholics right so Mary QoS would make sense like the Babington Plot right??

Sophie defending her husband you love to see it.

Did Julian have a heart attack?? He says he knows the sign and that squash will do it.

It must be so weird for Charlotte and obviously especially Kiell as well to just talk to the air??

"LIKE POSH BATMAN" XD XD

"Bonne see you all!!" Humphrey I adore you so much!!

No don’t discover the plot?? Is he killed cause he found out about it??

“Arms at our sides, we’re not a seagull.”

Did Kitty die of a disease of some kind?? She really didn’t like the idea of laughter being contagious??

Ah so that’s why they were all laughing apart from Cap and Fanny.

Oh God Humphrey no??

“This isn’t the life you signed up for - go have another one” Catch me CRYING??? Humphrey you are so sweet wtf??? Don’t sacrifice yourself though, it ain’t worth it??

THE SALUTE

Humphrey and Robin solidarity

Wait?? He wasn’t executed right there?? So the documentary is wrong?? Does he die in a sword fight?? Nope he can’t get the swords down. What’s happening??

(I love the arguing between the guards thats so good XD)

The chimney - genius move!! (his legs O.O nice legs)

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH BITCH I SCREAMED, THE FUCKING SWORDS THATS SO FUNNY HOLY SHIT???? I LOVE THAT SO MUCH OMG, THATS SUCH A GOOD TWIST!! OMG

The body?? Holy shit thats so good omg

ROBIN TUDOR ERA ROBIN finding Humphrey awwwwwww

“Ummmm - they’re all at it” the sass Thomas I love it!!

Ngl I kinda want the Button House jumper?? It looks so comfy!!

Ooooooohhhh Julian thinks Barclay’s dead that’s so clever - bitch is on the verge of death though

Ahhhhh its the shirt, so bitch isn’t gonna die what a prick.

Alison don’t kiss the tag it’s been on the sweaty chest of a land owning Tory all day - you’ll catch every disease under the sun from that.

Thomas leave her alone

Yesssss Alison standing up to him finally!!

*whispers* “Damn your eyes” that is literally the sweetest thing O.o

I want this scene tattooed on me forever, Thomas’ little smile when she stands up to him!!

ALISON PARENTAL BACKSTORY THIS IS ALL IVE WANTED!! We got it right though, lost both parents.

“Like having family all around me” <3 <3 <3 Oh fuck leave her alone

FAMILY PHOTO O.O O.O That’s so sweet

BUTT HO BUTT HO BUTT HO BUTT HO (Cap… calm yourself)

Julian’s cameo XD XD XD That’s brilliant!!! And Pat asking for an autograph

THAT WAS SO GOOOODDDDDDD

AS YOU CAN SEE MY USE OF CAPS HAS INCREASED THOUGH THE EPISODE CAUSE HOLY SHIT AMAZING

BRO I LOVED THAT SO MUCH???? THIS SEASON IS GONNA BE INCREDIBLE OMG

100/10 PRIMARILY FOR HUMPHREY CONTENT AND ALSO ALISON BACKSTORY

[bluefuckboy]

Summer Jasmine ✨

Kiribaku A/B/O (Omegaverse)

Alpha Kirishima and Omega Bakugo

Summary: Bakugo has been a single father for three years, after a one night stand with an unknown Alpha resulted in him becoming pregnant. He has always struggled with being an Omega, but has been successful at hiding his true identity, including now while raising his daughter, Yuki. After an incident at preschool, he is called into a parent teacher conference. But what was supposed to be a simple meeting turns out to be a twist of so called “fate.” Bakugo questions whether the difficult journey he’s endured has led to this Alpha, whose scent is like a peaceful, summer breeze.

I’ll be posting the full fic on AO3 soon. It’s about 10 chapters or so and approximately 15K. The name comes from a song released in 1972 called “Summer Breeze” by Seals & Crofts. I’ll explain more when the full fic is released, but go give it a listen as it’s a good, calming song.

This is the first chapter with a note at the end on how the a/b/o universe is structured for this fic

Trigger Warnings: implications of assault against Omegas (including brief mention of attempted rape), mpreg, mentions of abortion, issues dealing with self-hate and struggles with gender identity in terms of secondary gender of a/b/o, later chapters are nsfw

@slackslumber I’m sorry this turned out to be a light novel

Bakugo glanced up at the plate next to the classroom door.

Kirishima E.

Pre-K

He inhaled and ran a hand through his hair, which he had attempted to tame in vain. It wasn’t his first parent teacher conference. Yuki was an unruly child and was becoming even more so as she got older. This time she had tried to bite the ear of another kid and Bakugo was prepared for another dull lecture from a dull teacher who didn’t know a thing about actually raising kids.

He let the breath he had been holding out and gripped the doorknob, giving it a turn. The room was set up like any normal Pre-K classroom would be. There were little brightly colored chairs in groups, large matts with the letters of the alphabet and numbers adorned the floor and model planets hung from the ceiling.

At the front of the classroom was a large desk at which sat a man with bright red hair that was pulled back into a short ponytail. He was dressed in a nice button up, sans tie, with the top couple buttons undone. Rimmed glasses sat perched atop his nose and he pushed them up with the butt of a pencil as he stared at the stack of papers in front of him.

Bakugo cleared his throat and the man looked up.

“Oh! Sorry,” he got up and went to extend a hand to Bakugo, “I’m Kirishima, you must be Yuki’s dad.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Bakugo replied, shaking the hand offered to him.

Kirishima was tall and Bakugo opted to stare at his feet clad in worn dress shoes instead of trying to meet the amber eyes of the teacher. Kirishima motioned for Bakugo to take a seat at a chair that had been moved in front of the desk.

Bakugo sat down, crossing his arms out of habit. He tended to keep to himself and that extended to his interactions with other people. He didn’t want to draw any extra attention to himself.

Kirishima seemed to be the complete opposite. It was clear he was well suited for the job he was in. Bakugo could see children’s drawings hung on the wall behind Kirishima. Little stick figures with crude faces. There were a couple that had a character with spiky red scribbled on top of its head. They had shaky letters drawn next to the stick figure that read “Mr. K.”

Kirishima moved the stack of papers to the side, and set his glasses atop it. He gave Bakugo a toothy smile and Bakugo noticed the sharpness of his canines. His brow furrowed and he tensed a bit. He didn’t particularly care for Alphas, so he was usually a little wary around them.

But Kirishima’s eyes were soft and warm. There was a small scar by one of his eyebrows and Bakugo noticed he had the makings of crows feet at the corner of his eyes despite his youthful appearance. They were probably from smiling so wide that he looked almost like a shark.

Kirishima picked up the pencil he had earlier and twirled it as he said, “I hate having meetings like this, so I’m sorry if I seem a little bit unprofessional.”

Bakugo didn’t reply and Kirishima continued, “Yuki is wonderful. She’s very bright for her age and does great with her grades. But she seems, hmm, how do I put this.”

He tapped the pencil against his temple in thought, his bottom lip sucked under his top teeth. His expression turned to concern as he spoke again.

“It feels like Yuki is lashing out, so that’s why I wanted to talk with you.”

Bakugo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “I can make her apologize to that boy and his parents. We had a conversation about using our words and stuff.”

Kirishima waved his hand. “No no it’s not that. Well, it is a part of it. But not the main reason I called you here.”

Kirishima sighed and sat back in his chair. “I care a lot about my students. It’s kinda silly but I think of them as my own kids sometimes. So I want them to do well. But not just in school.”

His cheeks tinged red slightly. “I know it’s not my place to butt in on people’s personal lives, so I apologize if I offend you, but I’m just concerned that this might be something for Yuki that is bigger than the classroom.”

He turned to reach behind him, grabbing a picture off the wall that Bakugo hadn’t noticed during his initial glance at the artwork. Kirishima placed it in front of him and Bakugo looked down at it.

It was a picture of a little stick figure girl with a bright pink bow in her hair. She was standing next to a figure of a man who was holding the black line that was the stick figure girl’s hand. The word “Daddy” had been written next to the figure in legible handwriting that must have been from a TA or something.

The background of the photo was scribbled with a blue sky and green grass, with a little house in the distance. But there was an area that was left blank, a white spot on the other side of the girl. Her little stick hand was surrounded by the white, almost as though she was trying to reach for something. “Yuki” was written in large shaky letters at the bottom of the paper.

Bakugo’s heart clenched as Kirishima spoke softly.

“This was from a week ago. We had draw your family as our art project. I don’t want to pry or assume anything, but when I asked Yuki what the white spot was, it seemed to make her upset.”

Bakugo could feel his cheeks getting hot. He wasn’t sure how to reply. It was obvious that he didn’t have a partner, and being a single parent wasn’t unusual. Rather it was the fact that in their society he wouldn’t be considered Yuki’s father.

Bakugo’s silence made Kirishima redden a bit more and he said, “I’m sorry if this is sore subject. I’m just concerned.”

“It’s fine,” Bakugo spat.

The words came out more defensive than he meant them too and Kirishima’s eyebrows knit together closer with concern. Then he asked the question Bakugo always dreaded he’d hear.

“Can I ask you about Yuki’s mother?”

Bakugo swallowed and tried to compose himself before speaking again.

“I’m raising Yuki on my own. Her mother is…”

He trailed off as his heart started beating faster. He was always so cautious and he knew that he should tell Kirishima to mind his own god damn business. But something about the calmness in Kirishima’s voice and his genuine smile made Bakugo feel like this was a safe space.

He tried to push down the ball of anxiety buzzing in his chest as he gripped the sides of the chair and said quietly, “It’s Yuki’s father, not her mother. I… I’m the one who gave birth to her.”

The admonition seemed to hang in the air and Bakugo hung his head. It shouldn’t be something he was ashamed about. Male Omegas were rare and it was even rarer for one to be able to give birth. They called it a “True Omega” and the odds were about one in a nearly half a million. It was a rarity that was often exploited, which was why Bakugo had kept it secret, even from Yuki when she asked why she didn’t have a mommy like the other kids at the playground.

The classroom was deadly quiet and Bakugo’s adrenaline was nearing the fight or flight stage, but then Kirishima spoke again.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea. But don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone. I care about Yuki a lot, so I promise I won’t make things any more difficult. And if I can help in anyway, I’d be more than happy to.”

The offer caught Bakugo off guard and he finally looked up. Kirishima’s expression was one Bakugo had only seen on the face of characters from the movies he used to watch as a kid. A look that made you feel safe and protected, almost like a knight in shining armor. Kirishima smiled and it felt like a weight had been lifted from Bakugo’s chest. Even the air seemed clearer and he realized his knuckles had turned white from his death grip on the chair.

He let go, but regretted it as his hands started shaking. It felt like he was coming down from a panic attack and he felt the wetness of tears on his cheeks. He flushed from embarrassment and ducked his head into his lap.

It was mortifying, but he couldn’t stop and his whole body trembled as he wrapped his arms round himself. Fat tears were rolling down his cheeks and he wanted to melt into the floor. But suddenly there was an aroma like a summer breeze.

It wrapped around him and as he inhaled shakily his trembling started to stop. His whole body felt like it was being enveloped in a warm embrace from the inside out. It was a comforting, almost faintly familiar scent and he could feel his muscles relax as the tears gradually started to subside.

A tissue appeared in front of him and he realized that Kirishima had come around the desk to kneel beside him. Bakugo reached out a shaky hand to accept the tissue. As he did, the tips of his fingers brushed against Kirishima’s.

It was the briefest of contact, but it felt like little sparks had ignited from where the pads of their fingers had touched. Bakugo looked to see if Kirishima had experienced a similar feeling, but his face was still etched with worry. His hand on the back of the chair did tighten slightly however and Bakugo’s heart rate went up despite not knowing what he was expecting.

But then Kirishima was standing up again, taking the smell of the summer breeze with him. It made Bakugo realize what had happened and he looked at Kirishima with an expression between anger and fear.

“Did you just use pheromones on me?”

.

A/B/O Universe Notes

Alpha/Omega changes occur at puberty

Secondary sex characteristics manifest. Alphas will go through a growth spurt and will eventually grow their “fangs.” Omegas will have their first heat. Both will begin to emit pheromones and part of growing up is being able to control them. However, thanks to modern medicine, blockers makes it much easier.

70% of the population is Beta

Betas are essentially normal humans. They can procreate with each other and don’t experience a rut or a heat.

20% of the population is Alpha

They are considered a superior form of human. Physically they are usually a bit taller, able to gain muscle very easily, and have lots of stamina.

A unique characteristic of the Alpha are their fangs. They manifest during puberty and are attached to glands in the Alphas mouth. During arousal, while in rut, or even a rush of adrenaline can cause an Alpha’s fangs to descend slightly from the gum line and is referred to as “baring.” The canine teeth are connected directly to the glands and are the sharpest and most prominent, but the lateral incisor will also sharpen slightly during puberty. When an Alpha bares their fangs, the canines will become extremely pronounced. When marking, the fangs are used to puncture the skin and can secrete fluid from the glands in order to mark an Omega.

An Alpha will experience a rut occasionally. During this time they will become fixated on mating and can become irrational. Ruts are sporadic and with the help of blockers, most Alphas are able to avoid rut.

10% of the population is Omega

Generally thought of as the “weakest sex” Omegas are usually smaller in frame and it is hard for them to gain muscle. They can become pregnant regardless of gender, but male Omegas are not common. Impregnating a male Omega is also extremely difficult, unless they are a “True Omega” Most male Omegas are recessive.

The Omega experiences an estrus period, or heat, once a month. It will make them want to breed, same as the Alpha’s rut. Unlike a rut, blockers have no effect on the estrus period. During the estrus, an Omega will become wet, secreting what is referred to as slick, making it easier for an Alpha to enter them. For female Omegas it is secreted vaginally, for male Omegas it is secreted anally. However, male Omegas often produce significantly less slick during the estrus period and the chances of pregnancy are very low.

True Omegas are a phenomenon where the body is fully Omega, regardless of gender. The person will be able to be impregnated easily, even if they are male, and their estrus periods are often more intense. The percentage of True Omegas that have been reported is less than 1%.

Copulation:

Between Betas it’s exactly how it works in regular humans.

Between an Alpha and an Omega there are a few more factors. Pheromones play a part in intercourse, both in initiating and during. Slick makes it very easy for an Alpha to enter an Omega. During intercourse the Alpha is able to “knot” an Omega if significantly aroused, or in rut. Knotting lets the Alpha stay connected to the Omega for an extended period of time. Ejaculation is delayed while the Alpha is knotting. Once knotted, an Alpha will ejaculate numerous times into the Omega. Knotting can last for a few seconds, to over an hour. The physical knot is a gland at the base of an Alpha’s penis that will swell in the Omega, causing them to become stuck together until the Alpha finishes ejaculation or is rendered incapacitated.

Pregnancy

For Betas it is around a normal gestational period of 9 months. For Omegas it is shorter, usually around 4 to 5 months. Children of Omegas tend to be on the smaller side, regardless of the parents genders.

Fated Mates/Pairs

This is regarded as a fantastical idea, but has never been proven as fact or fiction. A fated pair consists of an Alpha and Omega who are so compatible, it’s almost like fate has brought them together. Some claim to have experienced almost a supernatural pull to their partner, but scientists have labeled it the evolution of compatibility making it easier for Alphas and Omegas to select the best mate for them.

[jaskiersvalley]

Yoga. Just Yoga.

The text from Cahir came out of the blue and Lambert couldn’t help but laugh at the poor man’s misfortune.

I’ve been roped into helping with the new yoga class. You need to come and do this with me. Trust me.

When he showed Aiden, there were now two of them snickering over the idea of Cahir helping run a yoga class. The man was merciless in running his spin classes at the gym but yoga? That was almost beyond imagining.

“Do we go?” Aiden asked.

“Fuck yeah! I want to go laugh at him.” Smirking, he gave Aiden a kiss on the cheek. “Odds on us getting thrown out within the first half of the class?”

Aiden’s eyes darkened. “I think we’ll make it to the second half. Loser gets to top tonight and I want you to fuck me silly.”

“Only if we bring Cahir back with us,” Lambert mulled. “It’s been a while since he joined us.”

Deal struck, they made arrangements, phoning up the gym and booking their places on the new yoga course. It was mildly disappointing that it was called ‘Yoga’ plain and simple. Nothing fancy, nothing that they could quietly mock or make guesses about who ran it. They had jostling bets about whether it would be a young guy with fake glasses and a man-bun or an older woman who has aligned her chakras on a post-retirement tour of the world. Needless to say, Lambert and Aiden were as crass and indulging stereotypes as they could be. Mostly it was at Cahir’s expense - the man had expressed quite a strong dislike of the young, slender and overly happy types, especially when they wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He had a type and they were not it. However, Lambert and Aiden were a much different story. What they had was more of a fuckbuddies with hesitant emotions kind of thing going on. Which meant that Cahir happily tumbled into bed with them, even made breakfast in the morning but none of them had quite hit the stage yet where they wanted to have a conversation about making things a little more exclusive.

Stepping into the studio, Lambert rolled his eyes. Why Aiden insisted on always being early was beyond him. To make things worse, Cahir had messaged to say he’ll be late, something about a first aid incident in the aerobics class. Thankfully, they weren’t the first ones there though. There was already a guy sitting on a bench at the edge of the room in a hoodie and joggers, seemingly engrossed in his phone. He made the yoga class to very worth coming to already and Lambert made a beeline for him, sitting down heavily to make the bench bounce to announce his presence.

“You here for the yoga shit too?” he asked.

“Yep.” The man didn’t look up from his phone and, a less than subtle glance revealed he was watching a video of baby goats. Lambert was torn between being outraged that a goat video was more enthralling than him but also a little enamoured. After a longer silence when it became apparent that the man wasn’t going to say anything more, Aiden piped up.

“Us too. I’m Aiden, that asshole next to you is Lambert.

“Eskel.”

So the man wasn’t very verbose. He was still pretty, even with the scars that Lambert somehow only just noticed marring half his face. He had to try again with the whole talking thing. “So, goats. That your thing?”

Slightly irritated, the man shoved his phone in the pocket of his hoodie. “I find watching them helps with my anxiety.”

“Oh don’t be nervous!” Aiden chimed in, being less than helpful with such an exclamation. “You stick with Lambert and I, we’ll look after you. And you won’t be worse than us, we’ve never done this before. Though I must warn you, we’ll probably get kicked out.”

That at least got a raised eyebrow from Eskel. “That so?”

Just as he seemed to maybe start opening up, more people entered the room and the mood to chat seemed to disappear. Eskel pulled his phone out again after a glance at the new arrivals. Much to Lambert’s surprise, Jaskier and Geralt were there too, Jaskier in lurid green, skin tight pants that left nothing to the imagination.

“The fuck you doing here?” Lambert asked, pulling Geralt in for a hug.

Grunting, Geralt shoved him away and jerked a thumb at Jaskier. “We’re here for the show.”

As the clock hit the hour, Cahir strode in, looking a little harried but imposing. And damn if Lambert didn’t wish they could skip out on the class in favour of a fumble in a supply closet.

“Welcome everyone,” Cahir announced. “This is our brand new yoga class with a new teacher who has joined our team. Please be kind and welcoming to Eskel.”

The man in question ambled up to the front of the class and gave a small wave. “Hello everyone, thank you for joining. A few ground rules, this is meant to be a fun class for all abilities. I don’t kick anyone out, if someone wants to leave, they do it under their own steam.” His eyes were fixed on Lambert and Aiden as he spoke. “Now, let’s do a gentle warm-up.”

If Lambert thought he was in trouble before, this was ten times worse. Attractive, witty and oh so fucking flexible, Eskel was a walking wet dream. He glance to Aiden who grinned and leaned in as they stretched.

“So glad my joggers aren’t tight. I’m half hard already.”

Lambert snickered and nodded along. Next to Eskel, Cahir rolled his eyes at them at tipped his head towards Eskel in a less than subtle manner. Lambert winked at him with enthusiasm which, unfortunately, Eskel caught and turned to look at Cahir who did the worst impression of innocent stretching. Somewhere on the other side of the room Jaskier coughed to hide his laugh.

It turned out yoga was actually really fucking difficult. While Eskel made it seem easy, showing poses and walking through the class to help adjust postures, Lambert was quaking by the end and Aiden was on his back staring at the ceiling. The rest of the class filtered out, Jaskier giving Aiden a friendly kick to the foot as he passed all while snickering.

“So,” Eskel asked as he wandered over. “You didn’t get kicked out.”

“I wouldn’t kick you out of my bed,” Lambert shot back, not even caring that it didn’t make much sense. “Just please only bring your flexibility to the bedroom, not this quiet sadism you bring to class.”

“Seconded,” Aiden whined. “You’ll have to carry me to bed, I can’t walk.”

Snorting, Eskel sat down next to them and peered up at Cahir who, after glancing at the clock, plopped down next to him. Aiden rolled onto his stomach to peer pitifully up at them from his spot.

“Brave of you to assume I’m taking you anywhere near a bed,” Eskel grumbled.

His words had Lambert whining pitifully. “But you’re so pretty. Tell him Aiden. He has a free pass to our bed.”

Eskel glanced to Cahir, an eyebrow raised. “I see your point.”

A wicked grin flashed across Cahir’s face. “There’s some changing room that I’ve conveniently shut for cleaning just round the corner.”

“I’ll carry Lambert.”

Just like that Eskel bridal style hefted Lambert up who let out a happy whoop while Cahir snagged Aiden and threw him over his shoulder in an undignified fireman’s carry. He did pat him consolingly on the butt as they went, knowing that he would be forgiving the moment he was set down on a bench in the changing rooms and he spotted a lube and condoms conveniently left within reach.

[nooneandeveryone]

I've had a very weird emotional rollercoaster of a day. I'm not entirely sure what's going on other than my usual post productive mood dip. I did actually do things yesterday so part of my brain wants to spend today telling me I'm worthless.

I don't like this cycle. I understand where it came from it's just so difficult to unlearn.

But I don't think that's the main problem today.

talk of pets and pet death below, a little ptsd-ish

My other concern is M. He's sick and he back slid a bit. He dropped half a pound. Needless to say, I'm having flashbacks to when Milo was dying. The cancer made him lose a lot of weight really quickly. M is named M for Milo because he looks like him. Unfortunately, I think this is just triggering all those old feelings. I lost Milo at the lowest point in my life. Absolute lowest.

I have ancient journal entries on a long abandoned blog about it. I won't dig them up. It was bad. It was a time I felt utterly abandoned and betrayed by everyone important to me. I had my own mental illnesses uses against me, I had my own insecurities used against me. I escaped that situation, took my cats and moved into a little shack of a place.

See, Milo, was my cat since I was 7. I got him from my half-sister. That orange and white asshole saw me through a lot of crap. Everything would suck but I had him. He'd saunter on up, head butt then flop down forcefully. And purr.

There was a period, where I had a lot of trouble with sleeping. My anxiety would run too high. Bordering on panic attacks. But Milo, would come lay on my head and purr in my ear... and I'd finally calm down and sleep.

So, toward the end with Milo, I developed a habit of resting my hand on his side as he slept next to me. It was so I could reassure myself he was still breathing, and then I would be able to sleep.

I didn't sleep much after he passed.

I was alone aside from my other two elderly cats. I don't think I ever felt more alone. Even with Creepers and Lala, who were amazing cats. They knew too and curled up with me on the bed.

A couple weeks later I got Nemo, who I cried on a little today. Not long after I lost Lala, then Creepers the next year.

It took, so, so, so, long to dig out of that hole.

So, here I have M... while he does not have cancer, the disease he has can lead to death. The core issue is the same, trying to keep the weight on him. I've been worried about him for a long time. He's difficult to pill, he's difficult to convince to eat.

This morning was cleaning up after him. While the cleaning was fairly simple... because he did it on paper. It just started the flow of memories. Well, feelings first, memories second.

I felt so inexplicably alone. I say that because... I'm very much not alone. Like physically and emotionally.

I didn't have a good day. I figured out in the end... but now... I don't know. Big emotional triggers like this tend to make me shut down. While reaching out was difficult it becomes impossible. At least, until I can completely dissect what I'm feeling and why. I guess I don't want to fuck things up? Like, I have made bad decisions and alienated people when I've had emotional states like this. Of course, like anyone with any sort of emotional instability, I'd get accused of being dramatic or attention seeking. I like attention like an affection starved stray, but I do not want to feel like this to get it.

I don't like this complicated web. I just want to be happy and content and not be forced to relive the worst moments in my life.

[danideservedbetter]

Alright so, here’s how things are gonna work.

First off, welcome to this side blog. Since it won’t be jolly fun fandom content and will be a little more personal I decided to separate my health and writing journey from my fandom stuff, although all my fandom content will still be linked on my main blog here.

(I write Izuocha/bnha content which isn’t super popular so if you’re not here for that then yeah, I don’t blame you. But if you are I have a link to our discord and community content pinned so def check it out if you’re interested.)

Secondly, you guys will hear details about stuff relating to my health like what kinds of things affect my disorder based on the tests some doctors are ordering, how I’m trying to improve my diet and activity, and routines and goals I’m attempting for myself. I am underweight, and that’s something I’m going to be talking a bit about, so if that’s triggering following this blog might not be the best thing for you. Details under the cut.

So, what kind of disorder do I have and why did I decide to make a health journey blog? My disorder is called idiopathic hypersomnia. Basically what that means is that when my disorder is acting up (based on factors like stress especially or my generalized anxiety rearing its ugly head) I have the capacity to sleep. And sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep. My longest recorded uninterrupted “sleep-attack” was 26 hours long and ever since I caught Covid in January, my body had been slowly growing weaker to the point I was starting to develop atrophy. I’ve had this ten years and my neurologist suspects inactive cells from mononucleosis I caught at 14 was the cause, because other IH patients have linked their sleeping problems to a case of mono or have had it at some point in their lives.

This disease stole many years and many things I’ve looked forward to from me. I lost friends and experiences and failed so many college classes I had to drop out.

I’ve decided I’m taking them back.

It’s not going to be easy. Just as it took ten years to convince myself that my tiredness was something I chose to give into, it took several extra years and many fights with my family to convince them that I had a real actual neurological disorder and that I need help sometimes. My parents and grandmother finally understand that I have to finish college and find a very special boss willing to work around my erratic progress on projects, but the outsiders they married are not as convinced. My grandmother’s husband kicked me out of their house because he wants to be the center of attention and doesn’t like that some days I’m so weak that I needed my grandmother’s help, and my father’s wife thinks I’m a lazy and ungrateful leech who “gets anxiety just being around” me. Both told my father I’ll never be happy so why even bother with me, but my dad is actually striving to understand his own recently-diagnosed PTSD so while we still butt heads he’s understanding that I have to take things day by day because every tiny circumstance affects my disorder.

Now, why did I decide to air all this out? Well, being open about my disorder and how it affects me has helped at least two people that I know of find out that the tiredness they experience isn’t the typical “American work force exhaustion” they were trained to believe is normal. So if I can help even one more, I’ll gladly talk about what this entails and how I deal with it day to day. Another reason is that I’m also one of those big advocates who believes talking candidly about mental health destigmatizes it and sharing ideas can help us grow as people and maybe make it a little easier to deal with.

So now that you know a little bit about me and my disorder, here are my big goals for the next three months provided my university takes pity on me and actually lets me go back.

First up: create routines to train my body to get used to living a full day fully awake. This includes waking up at the same time and going to sleep at the same time. It means getting dressed and going out and doing things, even little things— which I’ll get to in a sec.

Second: I write. I have a novel in limbo and I write fanfics. Writing is a big part of who I am and I’ve written one thing this year, which for a whole six-month stretch is upsetting and disappointing. Today is my reset. In the next 569 days I want to to finish the six stories I have in limbo (except the larger one) and finally reach my goal of posting 200k words in a single year. I wont be hard on myself if I can’t accomplish this because honestly finishing anything in the chaos of my life is going to be a miracle but. There ya go.

Third: go back to freakin college. I don’t care what it takes. Sit down with every official, every lawyer, and every professor it takes to get me back enrolled in classes in the fall.

Fourth: I have several smaller things I have to do, short term goals, stuff like that. I’m gonna create a to do list each day of small tasks I want to get done and while some of these things will be part of my daily routine I am throwing in like one or two things a day that just need to be done. My writing goal will change daily and I’ll keep y’all updated on that with every post I make.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Dani! That’s so much!! Well, a few months ago I remembered hey!! I basically have a computer in my hand, why make it hard on myself. So I downloaded certain apps to help me out. This isn’t me saying “hey go subscribe to these apps because I said so” it’s just that through a lot of trial and error I’ve come to find that these certain apps work for me and I’ve yet to come across one that has the functionality of everything I need.

Tiimo — so this is an app I found developed by people with autism for people with autism to help them develop good habits and routines. It has preset daily schedules (things like morning routines or nightly routines or work routines) and an internal alarm to let you know when to move on to the next task. I myself have extremely low-level aspergers (to the point where my doctor won’t give me an official diagnosis because I didn’t want people think that *it’s* the reason I have issues with school), so moving from task to task can be difficult sometimes and I also deal with getting distracted. This widget also appears on my home screen so I know what I have to do at a glance. You can program in weekly and daily tasks to fully customize your schedule, which is fantastic for someone like me who wants to for example rotate chores. This is hopefully going to help me get my body in the habit of adjusting to routines and transitioning from one task to another, as well as getting important things done responsibly.

Promptly Journals — I’ve been told for a while that journaling is helpful mentally to kind of recenter yourself, so a bit ago I downloaded several journal apps to add to my morning routine. Now some will prefer more creatively free journals, but I prefer this one that gives me small prompts I can do in a short amount of time that just allows me to get my thoughts down. I can even add pictures at the bottom that go with the theme! I’m scared I’ll run out of prompts eventually lol but until then this app works very well for my needs.

Stretchingexercise — Now idk if it’s from lack of sleep from my disorder, the position I sleep in when I do sleep, all the physical labor I’ve had to do in the past couple weeks, my medicine, or w h a t but I suffer from body aches like no one would believe. I know stretching is supposed to help with that, so I downloaded this app to help me do non-demanding physical activity that wakes me up in the mornings and helps relieve pain so I don’t keep having to take pain relievers. This one has different plans for things like muscle tension, back pain, warm ups— and it also gives you rudimentary weight updates (I’m underweight lololol so we’re looking to fix that) or plan updates. It’s worked really well for me so far and gives you animations and descriptions of the workouts (some taken from yoga) as well as timed breaks and a narrated guide. It’s been pretty helpful in temporary relief and if nothing else gets my blood flowing in the mornings.

Widgetsmith Step counter — in addition to the stretching thing one thing my doctor and I discussed that helps with the sedentary lifestyle is simply walking. I’ve needed so bad to relieve my stamina and reverse the atrophy, and walks have been stellar for that. Now I live in the New Orleans area so humidity and heat force me to go at the crack of Dawn, but honestly my weenie dachshund Charlie really enjoys our time out so he goes with me! The CDC recommends 10,000 steps a day which seems like a lot and it is if you don’t get out much. But this gives me an excuse to get dressed and do the hygienic thing and help Charlie be healthy too, as well as give me time for brainstorming because we walk in a truly beautiful area. I’m sure everyone installed widgetsmith with the last iOS update (Apple users anyway) and while at first the step counter was just interesting I’ve since come to rely on it! We do our 5000 in the morning, which of course is half, and I find that other things I do throughout the day typically drive the counter higher. Anything leftover can easily be accomplished by an evening walk in our neighborhood. Now the caveat is that I have to remote have my phone in my pocket because I don’t own a watch or anything fancy lol, but honestly I need to keep it on me anyway so that serves as a good reminder.

Todoist — this one is my FAVORITE. Ever since I’ve decided that I have trouble keeping track of things I need to do and small stuff I need to keep in mind and appointments, etc, I decided to find a list app. This is the one I found that absolutely helps me for everything from my list of room supplies I need to buy, to my reading list, to general tasks I have coming up I need to complete. And its widget functionality keeps it right on my Home Screen! More organized individuals can just use tiimo, but I’m definitely not one of those individuals so this app is sorely needed and appreciated.

And of course, I know building habits the first few weeks is HARD. So for days my body doesn’t respond to my alarms, I have a checklist of the key things I have to do to keep my life as functional as possible.

So that’s that on that. I’m going to try to keep writing updates and my daily goals in a post in the morning, and reblog what I accomplished in the evening. It’s gonna be tough. But I’m thinking if I can start small I’ll be able to build my stamina enough to return to college and be successful when I do. I hope that anyone watching this journey draws some kind of meaning or inspiration from it. And you guys can even follow along if y’all want! Especially for writers or people trying to get healthier. I can’t promise what works for me will work for you (and honestly I expect things to change especially if I get accepted into college again) but hey, I figure it’s worth a shot.

I hope you guys enjoy watching this journey, if nothing else I hope it’s entertaining. And maybe it’ll be successful. I do know that I’m just gonna try for it, and hope it works out.

First daily update to follow

Xoxo

Dani

[mari-vargas]

How about the story of how my car earned a name?

But first: the story about getting this car. Actually wow there’s a lot of stories that are interconnected here…. Alright well I’ll leave the story about how I developed car anxiety and how it subsequently got worse for another time. Point is I had it, and technically still do although I got help and can now mostly manage it. However due to this above all else I couldn’t stand riding in a car with tight suspension let alone driving one because I could feel the road with my butt. I also didn’t want to be in a red car or a car I whose roof barely reached my chest, as both statistically increased the probability of being involved in an accident (for opposite reasons ironically and no that does not mean the combination cancels each other out). Also I have a long torso and long legs (no I’m not tall my proportions are just a bit odd) so a short car was uncomfortable to try to get into and then to sit in because my head would be brushing the ceiling and it’d be hard to look out the front window.

So with that in mind you might be able to guess how I felt when my mom sent me a picture of a bright red Chevy Spark in someone’s driveway saying only “What do you think?” Well…I told her. My grandma had had a Spark so I knew my head brushed the ceiling, I knew I could feel the road with my butt, I knew it was short and difficult to be spotted by other vehicles even being bright red, I knew it had no getup to get around other cars that hadn’t seen it there before turning or lane changing…so on and so forth. I gave her my honest thoughts through stated facts.

I THOUGHT she was asking my opinion before deciding whether to buy it from the person whose driveway it was in. TURNS OUT she had bought it as a used car from a dealership that had used it as a rental and was now selling it after it had reached a certain number of miles. The driveway she had taken the pictures of it in? Was OUR driveway and I had just completely missed that. My mom was so pissed at me. She had my dad call me because she just couldn’t deal with my “disrespect” (however accidental it had been…oof). My dad cleared up the misunderstanding between the two of us and I was ecstatic to have my own car to use up at university and my mom had gotten a really low monthly payment for it that I’ve been able to handle myself since graduating. My mom told me she knew how I couldn’t stand to “feel the road with my butt” and had taken it on a long test drive just to make sure she couldn’t before she signed for it. The seats were adjustable and I’m able to sit in it without my head hitting the ceiling. And besides it was mostly for an around town car so the other issues were less major hazards. She picked me up in it from the transport station when I came home for winter break and my dad helped me get it back to university with me at the end of break.

I was able to stand it, but I didn’t particularly like the car. It was still red. It was still small. It was still not very aerodynamic and very lightweight. To be honest I already had a year and a half experience getting around without my own car so the little red roller skate basically spent the whole semester sitting getting rained sap on in my apartment parking lot. It came home with me for the summer. That’s when I really used it. That summer (as with the previous 5 years) I was working up the mountain at a summer camp as a lifeguard (omg—the irony: I have a fear of drowning), and additionally I was volunteering at a museum that was about the same length drive as to my actual job, so long as there was no traffic (with traffic it could be 2-3 times as long).

One day on my way home from the museum, there was a HUGE wildfire that wound up jumping over and straddling the freeway I took to get home. Worse, it had already overtaken the back road through the mountains. I was stuck, along with thousands of other cars trying to find any way out. The traffic was horrendous and it took 3 hours to get from one end of the town to the other (where I’d have gotten off to take the back way if that’s how I went…not that it mattered, we were forced off anyways). About 2-2.5 hours in I heard from the radio that the mountain roads had been contained and reopened for the stretch that I needed so I planned on taking that. It had taken me almost an hour to go between two stop lights, and I had considered pulling over in a parking lot I was three cars away from being at the entrance to, but right as I got to the driveway the mountain roads were opened. Then just as I reached the turn for the mountain roads, the freeway entrance right there was opened right before my eyes. I got on the freeway and passed through still burning areas and after that passed by several cars that had overheated and stopped running. I had already swore to my car when the temperature gauge for the outside temp suddenly jumped to 140-something°F that if we got through this together I’d find a name. And while passing by those other cars I reiterated that promise and even started brain storming names.

The stubbornness and sass and indignation I could feel rolling off my car mixed with the absolute queen energy meant it wasn’t hard to decide to go with more feminine names. An obvious choice given her size and color might have been Ladybug. This of course was also strengthened by the fact I was watching Miraculous Ladybug at the time and well my car had earned her name by saving me and not giving up even when it got really tough. I didn’t want to name her Ladybug though because to me that was a name for a VW Beetle. My old dream car that stopped being my dream car at the peak of my car anxiety because VW—old and new—have very tight suspension: you’ll know if there’s so much as a pebble in your path. So then I decided perhaps Marinette? But…well I wasn’t comfortable explaining the reasoning behind that one. So instead I thought perhaps I can compromise, something with ‘Mari’ (muh-ree like Marie, not mawr-ee like the shorthand of my character my page uses the name of) so I could still pay homage to the cartoon superhero. And I was in luck: google translate provided a translation of ‘ladybug’ in Spanish as “Mariquita”. Now I don’t know a single Spanish-native speaker who has ever even heard of that word let alone using it for the red and black spotted beetles, but regardless it was ideal for my usage.

My car is now named Mariquita, Mari for short. Although to be honest we usually call her something closer to “Murrey” because it’s close to “Murphy” as in Murphy’s Law. As I’m sure I mentioned before (although as it’s been several days since I typed most of this post out, I can’t really remember) she’s a bit of a Shop Queen. But that’s ok. Despite it all she’s been pushed way beyond her initial expectations of being a little around town car. She’s gotten me through two major fires, and been prepped for evacuation for several more. She’s become a car with an hour commute each way at least five days a week on high speed freeways with nothing around for miles. She’s been a moving car and a road trip car and been car jenga’d successfully more times that I can count. She was never meant to do what the things she has wound up having to do, and yet she’s pulled through time and time again.

[sunqyu]

Nova gets her shit together paaaart 1.

alright, so this post is mostly for myself to hold myself accountable a little more than just writing in my journal and not looking at it again for weeeks. there’s two things I want to do, first up I want to start getting more structure in my life and second I want to make actual friends. this is part 1, I’m going to write out where I’m at right now with these things, what has worked in the past and specific things I can do.

Structure

so my adhd-butt may be high functioning towards the outer world but the older I get the more the lack of structure is getting to me. one week I’m miss productivity with workouts, meditation, journaling, studies and my job galore and the next week I just sit in my own stress and anxiety too paralyzed by the pressure I put on myself to do anything at all. how to fix?

the things that have worked in the past were writing to-do lists per day and starting with max. 2 things on it, building up to 5 but never exceeding 5. if I have time left I can obviously do more but I shouldn’t feel bad if I spend the rest of the day chilling. why has this gone wrong before? probably because I either still felt bad when not doing anything, or because I simply couldn’t get myself to write a list every day or (and this is the important one) I was too strict on myself so I’d write down way too much to do, only leading to me doing none of the things I wrote down. how do I prevent this from happening? the first full week, I can only write down two things and I HAVE TO be proud of myself if I do both of them. I mean, with a history of perfect to-do lists without result, I really should be proud of doing two things a day for an entire week. another thing with this one is picking it up again when I miss a day because one day missed shouldn’t ruin the entire process of learning the habit.

now, a funny thing that is already happening in my brain as I type this is ‘oh we should work out every evening too so we have the energy to do the things’ and ‘we should journal everyday as well to keep up with our mood as we do these things’, ‘we have to meditate at the end of everyday to truly relax’ etc. etc. and FUCK that’s not how it works Nova, seriously. this whole all or nothing sh’bang doesn’t work and it’s my biggest downfall with these things. it’s okay if relaxing is just watching youtube vids, or whatever it is you want to do. you don’t have to be miss productivity-guru within one day. just get the basics right first and don’t rush. I repeat DO NOT FRICKING RUSH. Stop and smell the flowers, because you want to, not because it fits this dumb image you’ve created in your mind that you’re trying to live up to.

alrighty next.

Friendships

you’ve never been in a fight, you’ve never had anyone tell you they don’t like you and STILL YOU’RE INSECURE AS FUCK ABOUT YOUR PERSONALITY? why? why would anyone hate you if you give them literally no reason to? if you just lock yourself in your room after appearing to be a very social person? stop pretending to be this super social happy person and let people know that you’re lonely as fuck. how are they going to know you want to get closer to them if all they get from you is how happy you are and no initiative to meet up? take initiative!

I know that’s terrifying. I know. but the more you do it the less scary it gets. the only reason you’re this scared is because you’ve never tried it. you’ve created this comfortzone in your head about how scary everything is as an excuse to be lazy and not take initiative, only to wallow in self pity about not having friends. when it’s you!

the most difficult parts about this is 1. when you’re talking to people all you’re thinking about is how to act instead of listening and opening up, you’re never going to connect to people like that and 2. you SUCK at checking up on people regularly. sometimes you don’t text the people you love most for like two weeks. now this might be because of your ADHD but you shouldn’t use that as an excuse not to do anything about it. what are we going to do about it?

first up, show initiative. scary but just do it. small steps first so you’ll realize that people don’t find you annoying for asking how they are. if the conversation dies down, no big deal, sometimes people are busy or they don’t know what to talk about either. those awkward moments are necessary to connect with someone more than surface level. also, 9/10 you’re the one who replies slowly and that’s not with ill-intent. why would it be the other way around?

the second thing is finding a way to be consistent and work around the whole ‘out of sight, out of mind’-frickery. maybe set an alarm? once a day? where you just go over all your texts and make sure to reply to all of them. no matter how lame your reply. let people know you want to talk to them and you appreciate reaching out to them? setting an alarm to text your friends definitely isn’t very normal and organic but fuck it, if that’s what you need to do to get back into the groove of things. once you make a friend it’ll be a lot easier because things you see will remind you of them faster.

Overview for this week

so, for structure we write down two things on a to-do list every single evening, nothing more, nothing less. don’t get sad if you forget, be proud when you don’t. don’t ask more from yourself than those two things (I mean it! don’t you dare!). set an alarm every day to text people. even if you haven’t spoken to them in a while, just do it! maybe they want to talk just as much but they’re afraid you don’t want to. someone has to start, why not let it be you?

[stringergames]

Downtime Roleplay 1 - A Gentle Ribbing

Post Episode 2 - No Smoke Without Fire

Set as group take a short rest to recover somewhat from their first experiences in the strange house they’ve found themselves in. Magpie and Jem tentatively discuss the situation, and how they first met. Fox butts in.

Spoiler warnings: references events from the first two episodes of Edge of Night

Content warnings: depiction of injury (broken ribs, minor burns, exhaustion); self-harm (scratching); references to violence; references to inter-party conflict; references to murder; references to fantasy racism; discussion of horror/paranormal elements; swearing

Magpie sits in a corner, leaving the chairs for the others. His eyes are unfocused, and he occasionally winces at the pain from his ribs if he moves wrong. His ungloved hands are half-clasped in front of him, one anxiously scratching at the back of the other, reddening and irritating the skin.

Jem slumps onto the ground next to Magpie, not close enough to be considered friendly, but not on the other side of the room, as instinct says she should. This man intrigues her. Professional curiosity, that's all. But curiosity nonetheless. What kind of person offers help to someone who stabbed them?

"That looks uncomfortable." She gestures towards his hand.

Magpie focuses in on the present, and looks first at Jem, and then down at his hands. He stops picking at his skin, and hides the redness with his other hand.

"Unconscious habit. It's nothing, really." His voice is hoarse, and tends to trail off at the ends of sentences, as though he struggles to get all the words out before his throat gives up.

"I, uh, I guess the ribs don't help either, huh?" Jem has the decency to look sheepish, although her words are far from an actual apology.

Magpie laughs, a slight wheeze to it, and then winces. 

"No, they certainly don't, but they'll heal. One way or another. Doubt I look as rough as you do though. How are you holding up?"

Jem frowns. Laughter wasn't exactly the response that she was expecting. Nor was sympathy. 

"I'm fine. I don't need your pity." She pauses for a second, considers it, and then adds, "I feel like I haven't slept in four days, and my dress is ruined, so I'm not on my best form, I suppose."

Magpie quirks a smile, and leans back against the wall with a sigh. 

"It's a shame, it was a nice dress." He pauses a moment, and then changes tack. "I've heard of dangerous mists, but more in the sense of 'you might not see this cliff edge,' than the mists themselves doing something like this. I wish I knew what was going on."

Jem nods. "It's definitely outside my sphere of reference, but then again so are haunted houses, reanimated boars, and waking up in closets I definitely didn't go to sleep in."

Magpie hums a noise of agreement, and looks over at her. "It's a bizarre place. I woke up in a master bedroom of some kind. Imposing paintings on the wall and everything."

Jem stares at him for a moment. She isn't a sharer. But something about this stranger is oddly compelling. And, she reasons, she's delirious at best. 

"I woke up twice. The second time was in the cupboard, but the first time was... somewhere else entirely."

"Somewhere else? Do you know where it was?" Magpie's hand begins subtly scratching at the back of his other one again. He doesn't seem to notice, and is instead looking curiously her way.

"I'm not sure it was a ‘somewhere’ at all actually." Jem notices the scratching, but says nothing, lost in her own anxiety as she considers the deal she made in her panic. "It was just darkness, oppressively warm darkness, like being in a starless desert. And there were sparks coming from nowhere every so often. One got me." She turns her head so that Magpie can see the slight burn on her cheek.

He looks, and quirks an eyebrow. "Very strange. This whole situation just keeps spiralling further into the unknown, doesn't it? What made you wake up here instead of staying there?"

Delirious or not, Jem isn't about to admit to making dodgy deals with voices she couldn't identify. 

"Not sure. I don't even know if I could have stayed there. This place definitely isn't any better though. What do you think of the ankle-biters?"

"The children? I don't know. They seem strange. They don't want to come back into the house, sure, but they don't seem as scared as you would expect. Regardless of the fog, and the boars coming back to life, this whole place feels off somehow. The room I woke up in was full of cobwebs and disused. None of us know how we got here. None of it seems... trustworthy somehow, and while I do think we should help them, I don't know what to think of them."

"I'll tell you this much, their concept of time ain't right. There's no way that a family was actively living in this place yesterday. Which makes me doubly suspicious of the fresh food and the fires, they don't match up."

Magpie nods his agreement. "I don't see what else we can do though. We can't leave, and we've got to try something. I don't want to be stuck here forever, so the best we can do is try and effect a change. A monster in the basement looks like a solid start to trying to get rid of harmful fog and reanimating taxidermy."

"I've always found that hitting something hard effects a change of some sort. Positive or negative, it won't be the same."

Magpie's eyes flick down to his chest briefly, and he hums noncommittally. "I think that's probably true."

Ah fuck. Jem decides to give up on making conversation and goes back to concentrating on not falling asleep against the wall.

Magpie chuckles, and nudges her with his elbow. "Look, if you stab someone, you've got to accept it may come up in conversation sometimes, but I'm not angry. We have much bigger problems on our hands I think, and besides, I think you might have done me a favour."

Jem jumps at the contact. "Well, that's certainly a unique reaction. How exactly, if ya don't mind me askin'?"

"I'm right in thinking it wasn't me you were after?"

"If it were, you'd be dead." Jem smiles.

"It could just be where we are, I suppose, but something doesn't feel right." He pulls his sleeve back slightly, exposing more of the white tattoos that can be seen on his face and neck, brushing his fingertips over them and then digging his nails in. "Did you manage it? Or were you caught before you could?"

Jem remembers the sickening crunch of Farthen's boot on Lord Creighton's skull. 

"I think it's safe to say that he won't be giving orders or making racist comments any more. I'm good at my job, and I don't often mix business and pleasure, but I can't help but feel like that racist prick is no great loss to anyone."

A bitter grin spreads across Magpie's face, and his nails dig deeper into his arm. 

"Good." 

His expression brightens a little, some of the darkness that crept into his eyes fleeing again, but a malicious tint still plays at the edges of his expression. "See? You did me a favour."

Jem watches the danger in his grin, and an almost matching smile spreads across her own face. "Then you're welcome, I guess. And for what it's worth, I think you're the least irritating of the lot, so far."

"You're not so bad yourself, for a noble." He laughs again, and then winces, and curls in on himself a bit.

"Ah, yes. About that..." Jem trails off with a shrug. "It's a good cover, but hardly worth it here. I don't think I caught your name at the gala, and I feel fairly certain that the one you got for me was... inaccurate. If we're going to work together for any length of time, we ought to clear that up. I'm Jemima. Jemima Linden."

Fox glances over his shoulder. 

"Absolutely shameful," he tuts. "Impersonating a noble. For shame. I, as a Lord, am outraged."

Jemima actually laughs at this. "The hat is fooling nobody, ginger."

Magpie stops halfway through introducing himself as Fox interjects, and catches himself, starting again. 

"Magpie. Just Magpie." He looks over his shoulder at Fox, and then whispers to Jem, "I didn't know he was a lord. He definitely doesn't act like one."

Jem doesn't bother to whisper back. "If he's a lord, I'll eat his stupid hat."

"You keep away from my hat. I need some of my lordly dignity preserved." He looks from Jemima to Magpie, and gives a mock bow, almost losing the hat in the process. "Lord Fox Ripley, at your service."

"Oh goodness, well in that case," Jem starts to laugh again. "I'd curtsey, but standing is difficult and also I don't believe you."

Fox smiles, and shrugs. "Believe what you like, Ms. Linden. I've got nothing to prove. And as you say, what's a title mean here anyway? I assure you though, red heads can be lords."

"Do forgive me, my Lord," Jem smirks. "I'm sure you're right. What would a commoner like myself know about such things anyway?"

"I'm sure you'll catch up, Princess," Fox says, matching the smirk.

Jem's eyes flash dangerously at the nickname, but she can't help the small amount of actual mirth that curls around the corners of her mouth as she looks pointedly at his ears. 

"I look forward to it, my Lord."

*

Written by Nick Drew, Francesca Forrest & Rowan E. Madden.

Edited by Rowan E. Madden

Edge of Night is a dnd 5e actual play podcast, brought to you by Stringer Games. It is available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts & Acast.

[mankai-onlyfans]

two little words - (TenYuki)

"Follow me, hack." Yuki sighs, grabbing Tenma by the sleeve and leading him back to their shared room.

He's finally decided on a punishment to give Tenma for snooping through his sketchbook. Though it would be considered a little out of character for Yuki, which is why he's going somewhere private.

Tenma, on the other hand, had started to perspire the moment he heard Yuki's voice, and his anxiety shows no signs of stopping as Yuki drags him away.

He refuses to let his nerves show, instead clamping a resolute grimace onto his face, ready to face whatever dastardly punishment Yuki has thought up.

"So, what's it gonna be?" Tenma asks as he sits down and Yuki closes the door. "Pain? Embarrassment? Torture?"

Yuki sniffs and shakes his head. "Hardly," he pauses on the way to grab his phone from his desk. "But for you, maybe it'll seem like it." He adds as an afterthought.

Tenma swallows. Whatever it is, he just wants to get it over with already.

"Just... make it quick." He squeezes his eyes shut, ready to take whatever Yuki's going to give him.

But he's met with nothing. Wary of the silence he peeks one eye open, and finds that Yuki's pointing his cellphone camera at him.

"Apologize," Yuki says, his expression partially obscured by the pastel phone case.

Tenma can't believe his ears. "That... that's it?"

"Yes, you hack. Don't make me say it twice." Yuki rolls his eyes. "I'm going to film it and then post it. So, go on."

Tenma looks warily at the camera lens. "You're filming now?"

Yuki lets out a scoff of annoyance. "Obviously. Are you always this slow?"

Tenma straightens a little in his seat. Of course Yuki wasn't going to actually hurt him. Maybe some people would. But that's not Yuki's style.

Then again, neither is a sincere apology. He'd expected some form of payback. Either revealing something personal of his own, or being put on sewing duty, or something. But this seems... too easy.

"You want me to say I'm sorry?" Tenma asks, just to be sure he hasn't misunderstood.

Yuki groans and lowers the camera. "You really are that slow, huh?" He wheels around and heads back over to his desk, gathering up his loose sketches and hastily stowing them away. "Just forget it," he growls.

Despite the sharpness of his tone, Tenma could swear he saw a faint blush dusting Yuki's cheeks.

"Yuki..." He stands up and walks over to the shorter boy's desk. "I know I messed up."

Yuki doesn't acknowledge him.

"I shouldn't have posted your stuff without asking. I won't do it again," he continues.

Yuki is still as icy as a snowstorm.

"Yuki," he says, leaning down to try and catch his eye. "Yuki-"

"Stop saying my name!" Yuki bursts, his lips screwed into a pout of fury as he faces Tenma.

The change is so sudden, Tenma leans back a bit, his heart skipping a beat.

Yuki huffs in frustration, making himself busy with putting away his sewing kit. "You never really apologize when you screw up, you always edge around it, but you never actually say the words, and at this point I don't even think you're capable of it." He says, his voice clipped as he mindlessly tidies his desk.

Tenma is confused. He all but said the words "I'm sorry". Are they really that important to him?

"Yu-" he starts to say Yuki's name again, but bites his tongue. "Look. I'm..." He finds his throat closing up as he tries to force the words out. Why is this so hard? "I'm... sorry."

Yuki stills, his frenetic energy slowing to a halt. "Say it again." He murmurs.

Tenma braces his hands on his hips and hangs his head, wondering why these two measly words keep squeezing the air from his chest. "Yuki... I'm sorry!"

Yuki turns around in his desk chair, and tries to bite back a laugh. Tenma looks so strained and sweaty, like he ate some bad food. Is this really that difficult for him?

Seeing his conceited roommate in such pain lifts Yuki's spirits. He stands up primly. "I wouldn't have minded posting the pictures if you'd just asked me first."

These words cause Tenma to bolt upright, confused.

Yuki chuckles. "Next time, just ask, before assuming what I'll say. You got that?" He pokes Tenma in the forehead. "Hack?"

Tenma makes a noise of protest, stumbling backwards and rubbing at his forehead, even though it didn't really hurt that much. "Yeah, I got it..."

"Good, then you're forgiven." Yuki smiles.

Tenma lets out a sigh of relief, feeling like he escaped the gallows. "Thank goodness."

"Oh, but while you're here," Yuki says, unable to resist the urge to tease him. "I need someone to model this dress for me, and-"

"I, uh, gotta go-!" And with that, Tenma makes a hasty exit in hopes of escaping the horrors of dressmaking.

Yuki chuckles to himself, watching while Tenma runs down the hallway like someone lit a fire under his butt.

Thankfully, Yuki had the sense to leave his recorder running, so he has Tenma's apology on film after all. Ooh, and from such an unflattering angle, too! What fun...

[crapitskizaru]

My Pirate. (Eustass Kid x Reader)

Warning: filth, lil bit of weird roleplay, slight descriptions of gore scenes in a horror movie

Word Count: 1,9k

The darkness of the Halloween night behind the window would have been disturbing if it wasn’t for the close warmth beside you and a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Even if someone with ill intentions wanted to give you a scare, they would fail miserably - there was simply nothing scarier than the man you were currently cuddling with. You silently wondered if there was a safer place on Earth than the one you were in - his protective embrace.

“What a coward,” your boyfriend snarled. “You gotta find a weapon and fight. I wouldn’t ever run away, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” You moved your focus back to the screen. “But I think any murderer would rather be the one running away. You’re simply too scary to handle.”

His grimace turned into a smirk as he whispered into your ear. “But you can handle me.”

The voice he gave you was flirtatious and bluntly hinting at what it was that he wanted. But it didn’t take you by surprise, he was always like this. And so the TV screen consumed your attention once more.

The main protagonists in the movie were, to put it lightly, having a hard time. There were screams and jumpscares involved every few seconds, the unsettling music seemingly running down your veins with each turn of the camera and each location the murderer appeared in.

It didn’t bother your boyfriend at all. He laughed at the scene where teeth were brutally snatched out from one of the main character’s gums, he cheered the murderer on during their numerous attempt on skinning their victim alive.

In his amazing costume that resembled both a pirate and a New Romantic fashion, it felt as if Kid was born for Halloween. Ever since you’d gotten into a relationship, you always spent the night with him - and he always made sure to make it a memorable experience.

A moment of suspense from the sudden, lingering silence on-screen was abruptly cut off by a faint sound of a text message.

“It’s Killer,” Kid muttered, mindlessly scanning his phone. “Says he’ll be at least an hour late.”

“Mmmh...” Your casual stretch not going unnoticed by your boyfriend as he scooped you closer. “That’s good, actually. We’ll be able to finish the movie.”

“What movie?” His words were barely audible with how his lips were already in your neck, eagerly catching your skin.

“It tickles!” you laughed, grasping his hair. “Oh my God, at least wait until the movie ends-”

“What movie?” he repeated with a grin, huge body obscuring your vision of the screen as he moved to your mouth, massaging your tongue with his own.

He went from mildly interested in all the sophisticated torture methods and gore scenes to being as enthusiastically turned-on as possible in literal seconds, it was difficult to catch a breath.

Your body only reacting after a few moments spent near his warmth; your mind dizzy with agitation and slight anxiety, there was no time to gather your thoughts.

His lips were cold against yours, your body numb with too many sensations - your boyfriend’s hand on your thigh, his chest pressed up against yours, his licking tongue and his whole frame that you struggled to grasp in your embrace.

Your palms rubbed feverishly around the nape of his neck, only to slide down and come around toward his front, mouth reaching to keep up with the pace of the kiss.

“I wanna have sex so badly,”‌ he groaned, parting and exhaling against your ear. “We can fuck before Killer comes.”‌

To give yourself some time to think the response through, you caught his lips again and tried to calm your racing thoughts; all of them currently busy with telling you how hot Kid was and how you could spend the whole night just making out with him on the couch.

“Let me just-” you finally breathed out, touching your forehead to his. “-go to the bathroom real quick.”‌

“Don’t take too long. Else I’ll just start jacking off on my own and cum in five minutes.”‌

After cupping his face and giving him a teasing peck, your legs felt shaky when you went upstairs for some time for yourself. There was no denying the hungry pool in your stomach that just ached to be satisfied by your boyfriend.

The trip to the bathroom was indeed as quick as you could make it, as you found yourself in the bedroom - wondering just which toys to grab for this particular night.

Before you could as much as evaluate the possibilities, your gaze landed behind the window. The darkness had been replaced by faint light reflecting from the moon, revealing the busy streets; all around there were spooky decorations hanging from the roofs, covering the gardens and driveways, shining on the lamp posts.

There was a distant feeling of longing in your heart at the sight - the chilly October weather, the soon perspective of the New Year, the veil of the supernatural in the air, it all added to the chills that ran down your spine.

You couldn’t wait to go out with Kid and his friends onto the streets and relish in the eerie atmosphere while admiring the costumes of passing-by strangers, all while taking attempts to frighten one another with scary stories.

“Changed your mind?”‌

Your heart skipped a beat, your face and chest heating up in surprise. There he was, his tall figure standing in the doorway.

“Hm?‌‌ Sorry, got a little…lost in thought,”‌ you smiled as he walked closer, his arms enveloping you from behind. “Just look, isn’t the night magical?”‌

“It is,”‌ he hummed. “But not magical enough to leave me hanging for so long.”‌

“Didn’t you say you would start jerking off on your own?”‌

“I’d rather you did it.”‌ He gave you a smirk. “Besides, I‌ had to check on you. What if I was a vicious pirate? What would you do?”‌

His tone was getting more teasing as he sent a few licks down your neck, the previous hunger and impatience seemingly lost. You had to admit - imagining your boyfriend as a pirate was as ridiculous as it was exciting, making the arousal in your gut heat up once more.

“You?‌ A vicious pirate?‌‌ You’re far too soft for that,”‌ you cooed and flushed your back against his chest harder. “You wouldn’t harm an innocent being. And I, sir, am as innocent as a human can get.”‌

“And the fact that all of our sex toys are displayed on the bed‌ is supposed to be the proof of that?‌‌”‌

You tried to hide the embarrassment by reaching up and tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling his face into your neck once again.

He just chuckled. “Very innocent, indeed.”‌

“Even if you were a pirate…I’d have captivated you with my natural charm,”‌ you muttered while pressing your butt against his groin. “And took it from there.”‌

His satisfied grunt was followed by the harsh dig of his nails into your hipbones, hands already moving to get rid of the costume you had on.

“What if I was very vicious?”‌‌ One movement exposed your skin to the chilly air of the room that was soon forgotten when his warm palms kneaded your butt. “Vicious and cruel. And savage.”‌‌ He accented the last word with a harsh bite to your neck.

You couldn’t stifle the moan that was breathed out as soon as you rest your head back against his shoulder.

“I‌ would have begged that pirate.”‌‌ Your body responded to your needs faster than you’d have imagined as it rubbed along your boyfriend’s in a needy manner. “I‌ would have begged and pleaded for him to take me.”‌

“And if that pirate would make you scream your name?‌ Would you still want him?”‌

“Yes,”‌ you whispered, closing your eyes and heightening the sensations of his warm body near yours, his hands roaming around your chest, lips taking care of your neck. “Yes. Please.”‌

You could feel him rubbing against your backside, the slow rolls of his hips so distant to his usual manner. The window in front of you acted as nothing else than a way for you to support yourself as the weight behind you suddenly disappeared, only to come back to you after a few seconds.

Kid poured the lube into his hand, pants already down to his ankles, the slicky sound of it being spread along his cock cutting through the silent, dark room and digging deep into your gut in anticipation.

You rested your hands against the windowpane, spreading your legs open as if to offer yourself up to him completely.

His name was whispered when one of your hands got ahold of his hair again, your mouth catching the corner of his lips but soon flying open when you felt him pushing himself inside of you.

Hips snapping against your skin, he set the pace as rough but oddly slow, his breath on your ear.

“That’s not very vicious,”‌ you hummed, resting your forehead on the window glass. This time your senses were far too distracted to pay attention to the lovely sight of the Halloween night.

“You just wait.”‌

You felt his length poking and rubbing inside, the pleasure already starting to wake in your gut. His fingers dove forward to stroke your thighs and in between them - wherever he reached, your legs seemed to give out and start to tremble from the amount of stimulation.

His warm skin touching yours kept on sending sparks up and down your spine, and his words - those being whispered and mumbled so intimately - made you feel like you two were the only people in the universe, right at that moment.

You tried to lean on the window to prevent yourself from sliding down, but there was hardly any strength left in your body. The matter being quickly disregarded when your boyfriend hoisted you up and pushed himself even deeper.

He grunted with pleasure. “I‌ fucking love how you feel around me.”‌

His thrusts began to slide harder inside, his pace even - the friction and delicious sensation of being filled started to set your whole body aflame until its burst was laying within your reach.

“I‌ love you,”‌ the whisper stumbled from your lips before you could stop it, but you were too lost in Kid’s presence to care. “I‌ love you.‌”

“‌I know,‌” he smirked, his cock rolling into your inside relentlessly and drawing a sharp breath each time. “Who wouldn’t?”‌

The teasing tone earned him a quick bite on the lip as you pulled him into a kiss, it being the last impulse you needed to gasp his name out loud and reach your high.

You fell forward against the window, worn out and still shaken by the roaming pleasure between your legs. Your boyfriend was also near his release, as he suddenly pulled out and came on your back with a breathless groan. “Oh, fuck!”

His body was soon slumped over yours, his heavy breath heating up your skin even more. You felt a soft kiss on the back of your neck.

“I would do anything for you.‌ You little shit.”‌

“I know,”‌ you laughed weakly and turned around to face him, finally able to give him a proper kiss. “‌Who wouldn’t?”‌

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

There’s This Girl... (Sidney Crosby Imagine)

The first imagine I’ve ever finished. Hope you enjoy :)

Rating: G

Pairing: Sidney Crosby / Reader

Words: 3319

Warnings: smoking, something that could possibly be construed as minor stalking

Requested: yes / no

Summary: Sid is acting weird, and you’re determined to figure out why.

    “Move over,” a familiar voice orders from your right. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s Sid, because he has a habit of following you out of the arena when you get off shift after a game. You look anyway, because though he follows you, he doesn’t usually sit down. Usually, he stays standing upwind, while you sit on the wheel stop in the mostly-empty parking lot and smoke your post-work cigarette. That’s how it’s been for the past year or so since he first followed you through the arena and outside, where you’d called him out for being creepy before he even knew you knew he was there.

    He gives you a look and you scooch over, making room for him on the cement block, which he promptly takes. Something must be wrong, because not only is he sitting, he’s sitting downwind, and he hasn’t started talking or asking questions yet. That’s all this really was- sometimes he would vent to you, or he would ask you questions about yourself. It only kind of counted as friendship, more like friendly acquaintances than real friends. But you’re pretty much incapable not trying to help people, so you exhale, prepared to ask what’s up.

    “Can I have one?” he asks, right at the tail end of your exhale, which you choke on just a bit. The look you shoot him is so incredulous you can feel it. He’s never asked for one, not even a drag of yours, and he’s more likely to remind you that smoking is bad for you than anything else. You can tell by the slight change in his expression that he’s trying to appear confident and sure, but is embarrassed by your reaction and probably not very sure at all. The thought briefly surfaces that you shouldn’t be able to read him this well, but it’s not important right now, so you ignore it. Ignore it in favor of the thought that something must be very, very wrong.

    “You can have one,” you say, pausing just enough that he looks vaguely pleased, “If you tell me what’s wrong first.” His face falls from vaguely pleased to vaguely annoyed in a fraction of a second. But you know that smoking on an impulse is almost always just a way to escape something upsetting, so maybe if you get him to talk about it, he’ll change his mind about the cigarette.

    “It’s nothing,” he says, very deliberately not-pouting as he crosses his arms. It’s defensive posture, especially from him, and it reminds you of when you first met. When he followed you all the way through and out of PPG Paints on a whim, apparently because he was leaving late and saw you saying goodnight to your co-workers. It only took you a flight of stairs to realize he was there, if not who he was, but you’d been curious as to how far he’d follow you. So you’d just kept saying goodbye to those who were left as you passed them, acutely aware of his presence behind you. Honestly, your intention was to lead him outside and confront him, set him straight like others who had followed you in the past (with less savory intentions). But when you made a smart comment upon exiting the building and found out it was Sidney Fucking Crosby trailing you, well. Confrontation wasn’t worth your job.

    Luckily he ended up being a cool dude, who was just fascinated that you seemed to know everyone you passed- and they seemed to know you- and he wanted to see how far that extended. Most everyone who stays as late as you has been here at least as long as you, so you’d had two years to get to know them at the time. Of course you were going to say goodbye. After that, he’d taken to following you out with increasing frequency, hanging around to talk while you smoked and usually a while after.

    “Doesn’t sound like nothing,” you reply, because it doesn’t. Maybe he had spoken and acted more or less like this in the beginning, but he hadn’t been this difficult or defensive in months. They won tonight, but he could still be upset about his playing, because he’s overly critical like that. But if it was a hockey thing, he’d just tell you. He’d never held back on that topic before, and you can’t imagine he would now. Which means it’s something personal, which you’re really not trying to deal with, but will because he’s your kind-of-friend.

    “It’s not a big deal,” he insists, continuing, “The chirping just hit a sore spot today.” Sid had been chirped for just about everything ever, over the years, so you can’t imagine what was said that could upset him. Let alone upset him this much.

    “What was it?” you ask, tacking on, “If you don’t mind me asking.” Because you’re polite. He takes a deep, harsh breath and sighs it out between his teeth. By the look on his face, he’s thinking of what was said, and reliving that distress.

    “There’s this girl,” he says, like every word he gets out is pulling a tooth, “That I like. And they were saying how I wasn’t good enough for her.” Which is kind of ridiculous, because, as previously stated, he’s Sidney fucking Crosby.

    “And I know they were just joking,” he continues, posture getting less rigid the more he speaks, “But they were right, and it just got to me.” His body kind of slumps once he’s finished, arms falling to his lap and spine curving like he’s trying to curl in on himself. The resignation coming off of him in waves is enough to tell you that reassuring him of his worth is not a conversation you’re going to win right now.

    “So your solution was to take up smoking?” you ask, tone perfect to convey how ridiculous that is. His cheeks go red and you’re trying not to think about it, because he’s trying to come up with an explanation and you’d like to hear it. Also, you try not to think about things like his blush in general, because you’re hoping that if you staunchly refuse to acknowledge your crush on him, it will go away. It hasn’t worked so far, but it doesn’t hurt to try. It does hurt to hear him talk about his own crush though- probably on one of his model friends- but you’re just gonna push that down to deal with later. Or never.

    “You said it helps with your anxiety,” he says, which is true, “So I thought maybe…” He trails off and you kind of understand his train of thought. If smoking helps with anxiety, maybe it helps with all negative emotions. Not quite right.

    “Picking up an addiction’s not gonna help you here, bud,” you reply, stubbing out your cig, “Especially one that’s gonna affect your playing.” You put the butt in an old empty pack, close it, and put it in your jacket pocket. You don’t get up, though, because this conversation’s definitely not over. The situation is odd though, because you’ve at least met most of the team, and you can’t imagine them intentionally saying something to upset a teammate. Besides the obvious issue of a distressed teammate not playing as well, they all seem like pretty decent guys who just wouldn’t do something like that.

    “I played like shit tonight anyway,” he grumbles, “Did you see my stickhandling?” Which, okay, so you wouldn’t say he played like shit, necessarily, but. It definitely wasn’t his best performance. But that’s not really the point, because you know all the tricks in the book for deflecting and redirecting, and this is definitely that. Not even a great attempt at a redirect either, so he must really be upset about this chick.

    “Nice try changing the topic,” you respond, “But you’re not getting out of this one.” Sid looks a tad sheepish at being caught, and doesn’t elaborate, but doesn’t make a move to leave either. It’s like he wants to talk about it, but something is stopping him. Embarrassment, maybe? He’s probably not used to not being “good enough” for someone, so maybe he’s just uncomfortable with the experience. Whatever’s going on in his head, he’s not offering to share, so you’re gonna have to lead him.

You could probably go home now and avoid it, if you wanted. Just tell him you had to get going; you know he wouldn’t object. But you’ve got a too-big heart and he’s your kind-of-friend, so you just brace yourself to listen to your crush talk about their crush. It won’t be the first time.

“What did they say that got to you?” you ask, pulling out another cigarette. This conversation definitely warrants chain smoking, as far as you’re concerned. Sid lets out another sigh, wiping his hands down his face.

“Just-” he pauses, takes a deep breath, continues, “Just that she’s so nice, and helpful, and can make friends with anyone. And she’s beautiful, and smart, and competent, and a million other amazing things.” Even though that’s an exaggeration, you can see where Mystery Girl being a genuinely good person would make a normal person feel inadequate, but Sid’s not a normal person, he’s Sidney fucki-- you get the point.

“Okay, so?” you say, and he looks a bit baffled at your response already, “You’re nice, and helpful, and friendly, and beautiful, and smart, and competent, and a million other things too. Why is she any better than you?” You’re being maybe a bit too honest, because you mean all of those things sincerely. He’ll probably take it as flattery from a sort-of-friend, though, like he always does. He always gives you this look when you compliment him, like it means something more coming from you, or he cares about your opinion, or something. He’s giving it to you now, but looks away into the middle distance before you can start making it deeper than it is. Even when you think the world of him because you’re maybe in love with him, just a little bit, he never sees it as anything other than friendship. It’s whatever. You’ve been rejected before. It’s fine.

“It’s just, they said…” he takes a long pause, looks away from you, buries his face in his hands, “They said she’s independent. That she doesn’t need me.” Okay, you know he doesn’t mean independent negatively, because he loves an independent woman, but. But you can understand that most people want people to need them. You don’t necessarily agree, probably because you’ve never needed anyone, but you understand.

“I mean,” you prepare yourself for the rant you’re about to go on, reminding yourself that it’s for Sid, so it’s worth it, “Isn’t that better, though?” Sid looks understandably confused, but you soldier on.

“If someone needs you, of course they’re going to be with you and stay with you,” you explain, not really wanting to bare such a fundamental worldview, but willing to for his benefit, “They don’t think they have a choice: they need you. But if someone doesn’t need you and still wants to be with you… that’s a decision. And it means that every second, they have the option to leave you. But they don’t.” Your cig is burning out, but Sid looks like he’s starting to get it, so you ignore it.

“I’d much rather take someone who sees every part of me and still makes that choice, every second, to be with me,” you say, “Than someone who stays because they think they can’t live without me.” You don’t talk about how you’ve never needed anyone, or how you felt broken for years because of it, or how long it took you to come to terms with the way you love. Love as a decision, not a necessity. How you allow people in your life because you want them there, not because you need them. How you choose every moment to keep Sid around.

“I never really thought of it that way,” he says quietly, looking down at his hands now that he’s taken them away from his face. You give him time to think, re-lighting your cigarette and taking a long drag. You hold it until your lungs burn, then hold it a moment longer. It’s not the first time you’ve had to talk a crush into going after their own crush, but it’s still not a fun time.

“Well, now you have,” you say around the tail end of your exhale, forming the words with dancing trails of smoke, “So go for it. If you want her that badly, why waste an opportunity, y’know?” By this point, you just really want this conversation to be over. He can go get with whatever runway model friend of his that he’s clearly head over heels for, and you can go home and drink ‘til you pass out. It’s a win-win, really.

Except he’s not leaving, and you don’t want to leave until you know he’s okay, so you’re both just sitting there silently on a slab of cement in an empty parking lot as you blow smoke as far away from him as you can. This isn’t even close to the worst experience of your life, but it sure feels like it right now, in the moment.

“So you think…” he trails off for a solid 30 seconds before finishing the thought, “You think I should just go for it?”

“Yeah, man,” you reply, grinding the cherry into the blacktop with probably more force than necessary before putting the butt into the same empty pack, “As long as you’re not an asshole about it, she won’t mind you shooting your shot, even if she’s not interested.” You put the old pack back in your pocket with the new one and your lighter. Like 99% of the time, any decent person isn’t gonna begrudge someone making a move on them as long as they’re not creepy about it. And you can’t imagine Sid being creepy or douchey about, like, anything. Except hating Giroux, maybe.

“What do I say, though?” he asks, his tone a bit weird, “To make her understand?” You’re not exactly the most romantic person out there, but it’s not exactly difficult. Like. Just stick to the basics.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Just tell her how you feel, I guess. Make your intentions clear.” He’s giving you this weird look, so you turn your head back to center so you don’t get distracted trying to figure out what he’s thinking. You can’t help but fiddle with your hands a bit, not quite rid of that old nervous habit.

“Hey, Y/N,” his voice is gentle, edged with something... sentimental? Maybe? “Look at me.” You obey despite yourself, turning back toward him, forcing yourself not to read into his expression, or the situation, or the full-on butterfly rave taking place in your stomach from the way he’s looking at you.

“I know I’ve only known you for a little while,” he says, reaches out to stop your fidgeting hands by taking one in his own, “But I think you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” You- okay- this is- what?

“The guys were chirping me about liking you,” he carries on steadily, like he’s not redefining everything you know about the world, “Because you’re so far out of my league.” Which is fucking ridiculous, because he’s Sidney fucking--

“Because it doesn’t matter that I’m a professional athlete when you’re you,” he’s just trucking on through, and you know you’re doing a pretty good impression of one of those novelty singing bass decorations right now, but he doesn’t seem to mind, “Because you’re the type of person who stays half an hour after your shift just to listen to some old man whine about his crush.” Yeah, his crush that’s apparently on you, of all people. You’re not-- you’re not even close to Sid’s type. You’re too.. Not-model-y. You’re not someone you’d ever see on a runway, or in a magazine, or up in the family-and-friends box at a goddamn NHL game. You don’t fit the profile, and for a moment you’re afraid that he might want you to change so that you are, but then you remember it’s Sid you’re talking about, and that fear seems ridiculous. Then again, this whole scenario feels ridiculous.

“I’ve been fascinated with you since that first night, when I saw you address everybody by name, and ask about their families and lives, and remember the details even though you insist you have no memory,” you do, and it’s true, you don’t remember shit, ever. Except your co-workers’ lives and likes and dislikes and okay, maybe you have a good memory when it comes to things you care about.

“I’ve been keeping myself from asking you out for a long time,” he confesses, “And now I have no idea why I was so scared. Because at the end of the day, you’re still Y/N, and you’re still my friend.” The if nothing else goes unsaid, but you know him well enough to hear it in your head anyway. You shouldn’t know him well enough to know that. It’s only been a year, like three months of which he wasn’t even here for. He was in Nova Scotia, with his family, who he might have sent you pictures of, because you might have maybe exchanged numbers a while back, and maybe you’ve been missing all the signals that mattered.

“Holy shit,” you say, finally finding your voice, “You’ve been flirting with me.” It’s not even a question, because as much as you’d bullshitted yourself for months, there’s no other explanation for some of his behavior. Oh fuck, you’re oblivious.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “Apparently I’m not good at it, though.” You’re both so goddamn stupid. You’ve been flirting with each other for a year, and neither of you noticed. All because you both thought the other was too good for you. What kind of romcom nonsense…

“We’ve been dancing around each other for a goddamn year,” you say, still astonished at both the fact that Sidney fucking Crosby likes you, and that you’re apparently both Moron4Moron with how blind you’ve been. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something in response, but you just squeeze the hand he’s entwined with yours and bring your free hand to his cheek.

“Sid,” you cut him off, dead serious, “Ask me.” His eyes are so dark in the dim light of the parking lot. You feel like if you look into them while he asks, you’ll fall down a rabbit hole you may never find your way out of. You’re not opposed to the idea.

“Y/N,” there’s a long pause, during which neither of you dare to breathe until he finishes the thought, “Do you want to grab dinner some time?” There’s a beat, and you both break out into peals of laughter, his honking mixing with your snorting to make possibly the ugliest and most beautiful laughter ever created. The two of you end up leaning against each other, random points of contact wherever you’d happened to land. You’d pinch yourself to make sure this isn’t an elaborate dream, but your knee is still throbbing and your head aches where it had smacked into Sid’s, so you don’t need to check. Even if it was a dream, you’d gladly stay in it as long as your brain let you. You have to pull your head back a bit to look him in the eye, eagerly jumping into the wonderland that is loving Sidney Crosby.

“The guys always call you my girlfriend,” he says, “Guess they’ll have a reason now.” A wide, crooked smile overtakes his face, and you finally, finally allow yourself to appreciate it.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Ok hmmmm fake dating art school au with Malec, Claia, Lukemaryse and (platonic, obviously) garrowbane where hmmm magnus is with an ex at the start and tries setting up Luke with people

well this got really cracky really fast

okay so im gonna go ahead and say that i have no idea how art school works in the US so for the sake of My Convenience™ imma go with the way it is in Brazil, which is "there are numerous kinds of arts going on in the same institute/college"

so im thinking..... clary obviously is doing visual arts, painting, whatever its called (this is probably where i should warn you that i know nothing about visual arts). maia is not really an arts major, but she's doing a course on technical/scientific drawing since shes a biology major and that's useful for her field studies. magnus is on the same course, except hes like an engineering major really. im a slut for inventor Magnus so yeah he wants to be an engineer to develop new kinds of technology so technical drawing is important for him. meliorn (watch me slip meliorn in literally everything i can) is a theatre major, and Luke and Maryse r both studying music

Luke and Maryse r older and like idk how common that is in the US but here in Brazil some ppl (spec retired ppl) come back to college to study something they have Always Wanted To but that wouldnt bring them money. i know that the whole "no free college" thing makes that harder but they can be post-graduates i guess. or Luke is and maryse is a regular major but shes a super rich hotshot lawyer who after the divorce decided to be less stuck up and dedicate herself to things she enjoys, and since shes rich, she has the money to do a major or a music course just for fun

anyway! Magnus is the kind of guy whos friends with everyone from all ages and courses. he quickly becomes friends with maia (shes on his course after all) and meliorn (who is a theatre major but takes classes in everything they can because.... they can)

i just realized maia/meliorn has a LOT of brotp potential but ok anyway

magnus and maia bond greatly over their shared interests (yeah shes a biologist and hes an engineer but magnus' interests vary a lot and also hes a fan of biochemistry. they also have relatively similar life stories and a similar sense of humor, even if maia is sharper at the edges - which is something Magnus likes, really. she's fierce and fun and unafraid and he wishes he were more like her sometimes. they have a mutual admiration and kind of protection pact). meliorn on the other hand is kind of the local queer cryptid in a way, which of course means magnus immediately befriends him, and Maia is just delighted at how much of a trickster they are. magnus also likes meliorn a lot because they're so... chill and easy and unbothered by social conventions to the point of being nearly unaware, which makes Magnus feel so comfortable. and meliorn thinks Magnus is interesting, and they all get along.

maia kind of brings luke into the group. luke is kind of maia's adoptive uncle. she lives alone but once she ran away from home luke was super nice and helpful and also one of the ppl who most encouraged her to go after her major like she wanted

luke and maia are clearly close and have each other's backs, but they also tease each other a lot. so when one day luke teases maia over her crush on clary, she retaliates by looking DIRECTLY at meliorn and being like "he's just jealous. did you ppl know he hasnt been on a single date in years" and meliorn, who thrives on the chaos, is like "oooh we should set him up" and magnus of course jumps at the opportunity

so the three of them keep trying to set ppl up with luke, and it just ...... never works. like doesnt come even close to working. its kind of a disaster actually. its awkward, it never clicks, and at this point luke is begging them to stop but you know thats not gonna happen. so as a last resort, luke lies that he's dating a woman from class. cue him asking maryse, whom hes never talked to in his life but is the only eligible woman his age at class, to like, please do him a solid. and maryse is just so shocked by this random (but handsome) man's life, shes like. lmao sure. look shes a post-divorce woman she wants to be free and cease giving fucks

and maryse kind of has fun pretending to date luke, but she's a busy woman and she doesnt hang out with them often, and they are like [BANGING POTS AND PANS] WE WANT TO ACTUALLY MEET HER

and luke is all like "well maybe if all of yall singles got dates we could have a date together otherwise get out" so maia asks clary out purely out of spite and turns out it works, but Magnus and Meliorn are like "uuuuhhhhh,,,,,,," so meliorn is like "what if we pretend to be together lmao" and Magnus is like shit we're gonna do that aren't we

i know its not exactly Magnus having an ex but look im struggling to put all of this together okay udhdhdbd also im not big on the whole "breaking up because of someone else" trope ya feel

god this is just the setup for malec to meet, im,,,, a mess

so anyway Magnus and Meliorn are determined to totally sell this to luke (maia knows its a scam of course, she can smell bullshit from miles away). and luke and maryse are also totally determined to sell this cuz everyone is an idiot. so they keep having, like,,,,, dates together, until eventually they kind of become a solid group of friends. they all welcome maryse and are really impressed by how critical she is of her pre-divorce self and how it did wonders for her, they think shes really strong. she even shares about how she struggled with her son being gay and her daughter deciding to become a forensic pathologist instead of a lawyer like her, you know. in short they all become good friends

so now everyone (but maia and clary who are happy and drama free and laughing their butts off at Magnus and Meliorn) is in a difficult situation because now theyre all friends! what are they gonna do, confess it was a scam all along? pretend to break up and make the whole thing awkward? they're trapped in their fake dating and it looks like they're just gonna have to, like ... deal with it

and in luke and maryse's situation it's even more complicated because they are kind of getting into each other, and theyre like groaning because theyre grown ass adults they shouldn't be living this trope. and yet

anyway as they become closer they start going to maryse's (shes the only one with a large enough place) and that's when Magnus meets Alec and meliorn meets izzy

which,,,,, despair

because they had been doing a great job of fake dating so far, excuse you, they are partners in crime. they're a well oiled lying machine and they work together flawlessly. magnus is not even a good liar but shit if meliorn didnt teach him every trick on how to not technically lie, and also they are very close and the kind of ppl who are comfortable with sharing affection, so yeah they drape their arms on each others shoulders and hold hands and kiss each others cheeks NO PROBLEM but now theyre both interested in someone else

hell, theyre both interested in maryse's kids

fuck

shit

goddamn

meliorn is all like "i told you we should have pretended to have an open relationship" and Magnus is like luke KNOWS im monogamous he would KNOW we're lying and meliorn is like FUCK and maia and clary are losing their shits

meanwhile luke and maryse are becoming more and more domestic and oblivious to the world. they will b like "you kids put the movie on, we'll make dinner" and be all like fluffy asshole

izzy quickly picks up that its a scheme cuz shes smart, and flirts with meliorn when maryse isnt around, while Alec is like SHIT dude i cant believe ur into a TAKEN MAN what the fuck kind of sad gay stereotype r u

but their pull is like,,, stronk and they frequently find themselves getting lost in their own little world and lowkey flirting and just being a liiiiil too close (especially in alecs case since hes like ..... stoic extraordinaire) and then theyre like AH SHIT WAIT and they jump and pretend nothings happening

and look, izzy would tell Alec about the scam, but she's, como se dice...... having way too much fun at his expense. she and meliorn start dating on like day 1 and make a pact to see how long they can keep the act up and enjoy the show

maia and clary have eaten their combined weight in popcorn by this point

the intrigue. the chaos. the misunderstandings

it gets more and more ridiculous as time goes by but Magnus is still determined to yknow keep the act up and not expose his and meliorn's lies

they just,,,,,,, live like this

it lasts for so long

like ..... months of ridiculousness

and alec is suffering because hes into a taken man whos obviously very in love with his partner and he feels guilty and all of that shit

and magnus just.... doesnt know what to do with his predicament. look he has anxiety this was a bad idea how is he gonna walk up to Alec and b like "hey so I'm not really dating meliorn it was all a scam so we could spy on luke and ur mom but it went too far" and the more time passes the more awkward it gets

the dam probably breaks when magnus finds meliorn and izzy on a date on accident, and hes like rjrhrjrjdnc SO THEY KNOW???? and meliorn is like nah only izzy knows we wanted to see how long itd take for u and alec to get ur shit together. and magnus is like oh my god and meliorn is like "in my defense i didnt think it would take literal months!!!!!! and then it started to feel awkward to just tell you to go for it"

so magnus is like FINE i guess i will TELL ALEC and ask him if he wants to DATE ME IN SECRET so we can keep NOT HAVING TO CONFESS WE LIED TO HIS MOM

and then i guess he tells Alec???? and he still isnt sure whether or not Alec likes him so he isnt planning to ask him out immediately afterwards, just, you know, let him in on the secret, and Alec is like "dude my mom is lying too" and Magnus is like what she and luke are like married

anyway knowing about that gives them full permission to come out as lying bitches so they're like "how dare you lie to us like this.. but also we did the same thing"

eventually luke actually asks maryse out

i dont even know whats happening anymore god im done

this is your fault anon

if anyone wants to actually write this, feel free rjrhdjdn honestly id read it

[myaekingheart]

105. Claws of the Beast

Dedicated to my very difficult 80lb rescue Lab who needs tranquilizers just to get his nails trimmed. --- In all honesty, though, this was an extremely hard chapter to write and bring myself to post. I know the judgment around this sort of stuff can be harsh, and it breaks my heart to know that when other people see my dog's nails, that they're very likely judging my merit as a dog owner. The truth of the matter is that it's not an easy situation to handle by any stretch of the imagination--you want to do what's best, but you don't want to hurt yourself or your fur baby.  Sometimes the most necessary things are also the hardest. All we can manage is our best. Hopefully there are other people out there reading this who understand the struggle and can relate.

               Rei couldn’t concentrate. No amount of white noise or refocusing techniques could help her. All she could think about was Toshio curled up by her feet on the couch, dreaming emphatically. His upper lip curled as he whimpered and growled, his paws twitching to chase after imaginary prey. And that was where the distraction lie: in his paws.

               Try as she might, for some godawful reason Toshio had a thing about people touching his paws. He would immediately grow defensive, baring his teeth with a low growl. Rei wondered what could’ve been done to this poor dog in the past that left him so aggressive about it but she did her best not to anger him unnecessarily. Which would’ve been fine if not for his nails.

               At first, Rei had assumed that perhaps taking him for long walks would alleviate the issue. That perhaps the sidewalk would help file them down. By now, however, an intervention was necessary. His claws had become monstrously long—one of which was so overgrown, it was beginning to curl. How the hell is this even comfortable for you? Rei thought to herself. Sighing, she slammed her book shut and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She knew what would come of another attempt and yet it could not be avoided any further. She needed to trim his nails.

               Rei tried to move as cautiously as possible as she maneuvered around Toshio, desperate not to wake him. So long as he stayed unconscious, she’d have a sliver of a chance. She tiptoed into the kitchen and searched the drawers as quietly as possible for the clippers—the big ones made specifically for animal claws. It took her all of five minutes to find them wedged in the back of the junk drawer—the reorganization of which was likely a necessary project for her next day off.

               She wasn’t sure why she hid them behind her back as she crept nearer—it wasn’t like Toshio could see—but it just felt right. And then, as if functioning on some sort of radar, Toshio’s eyes popped open and and he stared at her with all the suspicion one can expect from a dog. Rei grinned at him innocently though nothing about her body language supported this theory. Toshio watched as she skirted around him, ensuring she kept her backside fully hidden. The moment she got too close, Toshio growled and leapt to his feet before retreating into the bedroom. Rei leaned back to watch him through the doorway as he wiggled his bulky body beneath the bed. Defeated, Rei tossed the nail clippers onto the coffee table and fell back against the couch, draping an arm over her eyes. So much for that.

               The entire rest of her afternoon was spent trying—and failing—to stop thinking about it. She flipped through a dusty dog manual on the bookshelf, it’s spine falling apart from years of use, in hopes of finding any guidance. After all, there had to be some way to work around this. She was certain that there were plenty of other dog owners who faced the same exact struggle that she was. How did they do it? What were their secrets? She only wished she knew.

               When Kakashi returned home the following evening, sore and sleepy, the house was a mess. Books were scattered everywhere. Sheets of paper with bizarre diagrams scattered the coffee table and couch. Rei was nowhere to be found. Furrowing his brows, Kakashi stepped over a stack of texts and set his equipment on the kitchen table. “Rei…?” he asked into the void.

               From the corner of the room, Rei popped her head out from behind yet another stack of books. “Kakashi!” she exclaimed, her voice bright and lilted like a child’s.

               “What the hell is all of this?” he asked, chuckling slightly under his breath. It was then that Rei’s face turned serious.

               “Kakashi” she repeated, voice now stern. “We have a problem.”

               “Oh…?” Kakashi asked. He skirted around the clutter, clearing a space for himself to sit on the couch. “Is the problem that we’ve been organizing our books the wrong way the entire time?”

               “Oh god, no” Rei swatted at the air with a disgusted facial expression. Kakashi couldn’t help but laugh—he knew that if nothing else, his fiancée was a master of literary organization. Her offense at the insinuation was admittedly adorable. Smoothing her bangs back, she huffed and added, “It’s Toshio.”

               Kakashi’s heart leapt into his throat as he suddenly began searching the room for the dog. He didn’t want to think about what kind of problem might have arisen. He couldn’t handle the thought of a sick dog. “W-what’s the matter?” he asked.

               Rei rose to her feet, carefully stepping over the mess she had made. “Toshio’s nails are getting dangerously long. They desperately need to get cut but he’s making things difficult” she explained. “I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

               A slight smile teased Kakashi’s lips. “Are you not strong enough to handle him on your own?” he asked, and in his voice Rei could tell he was lightly mocking her.

               Frowning, Rei leapt over the arm of the couch and whacked him on the shoulder. “That’s not funny!” she shouted. “Do you think I like knowing that I can’t handle my own dog? What the hell kind of fucked up shit is that?”

               Taken aback, Kakashi murmured a soft sorry as he rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes skated over to the bedroom door creaked ajar where he finally found Toshio’s fluffy butt sticking out from beneath the bed. “Really, though, how hard could this be?” he asked. His apparent confidence was nauseating.

               “You think it’s so easy?” Rei asked. She leaned back to retrieve the nail clippers from the pile of mess on the end table, slapping them into Kakashi’s palm. “You try, then. I’ll wait.”

               Kakashi blinked as he looked down at them, considering the situation. After a long moment, he stood up. “Alright then” he said. He spun the clippers by the handle around his finger as he strolled into the bedroom, peeking under the bed to get Toshio’s attention. The minute they locked eyes, Toshio snarled and snapped his jaws. Kakashi quickly removed himself from the situation, sneaking back into the living room with a sheepish grin. “Yeah, okay, we might need some help.”

               A sickening smile touched Rei’s lips as she leaned back against the couch with arms crossed. “That’s what I thought.”

               Toshio remained distant for the next few days, hiding under the bed or sleeping on the bathroom floor. Rei’s heart broke seeing him avoid her like this. They were supposed to be companions. And didn’t he know she was only trying to do what was best for him? She felt like such a terrible dog owner. For a moment, she considered just trashing the whole idea so that Toshio might love her again but she knew avoiding the situation wasn’t going to do him any favors. Sometimes the most necessary things were also the hardest, she supposed.

               When he finally began easing his way into being sociable again, Rei tried to act as nonchalantly as humanly possible. She encouraged him to lay by her feet or join her on the couch. Sometimes he obliged and sometimes he didn’t. When he did, however, she took every opportunity to butter him up so he wouldn’t suspect a thing. She just had to wait for the perfect moment to pounce.

               It wasn’t until one evening when he fell fast asleep between—or, technically, across—Kakashi and Rei on the couch that they knew this was their moment. They exchanged knowing glances before Rei slyly reached for the nail clippers on the end table. She steadied herself as cautiously as she could manage as Kakashi gently restrained the dog. Biting her lower lip, Rei reached out and took one of Toshio’s paws in her hand. The minute she touched him, however, his eyes flew open and his upper lip curled.

               “Rei, be careful” Kakashi murmured. He kept his eyes constantly locked on Toshio, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

               “I’ll be fine” she whispered back, shooting him a sharp glare. Then, meeting Toshio’s eyes, she cooed, “It’s okay, buddy, I’m not going to hurt you.”

               Toshio uttered a low, guttural growl as she leaned closer, a warning. Rei didn’t care, though. She doubted he would hurt her. She just needed to dive right in, no hesitation, like ripping off a bandage. She flexed the clippers and Toshio licked his snarled lips.

               “Rei, just stop” Kakashi insisted. “Don’t let him bite you.”

               “Shut up, Kakashi” she replied through gritted teeth. “He can sense your anxiety.” Just as she was about to clamp down on his worst nail, however, Toshio snapped his jaws and jerked his paw away. Kakashi leapt back, letting him escape. Toshio shook the sleep off his body before disappearing into the bathroom. Defeated, Rei tossed the clippers across the room with a groan and fell back on the couch, pressing the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “This is pointless.”

               “I hate to suggest this” Kakashi began, “but maybe we’d be better off muzzling him.”

               “You think so?” Rei whined. Kakashi frowned as he nodded. He was never a fan of muzzles—he was never a fan of anything restrictive for dogs, really—but sometimes they were necessary and this was certainly one of those cases. He could not afford to watch Rei get hurt in her attempts. “I just feel so bad” she sighed after a few moments. “I don’t want to ruin his trust in me but I feel like if we keep this up, he’s going to hate me.”

               “He’s not going to hate you” Kakashi assured her.

               “Yes, he will” Rei countered. “I just wish I knew why he was so aggressive about this in the first place. Do you think his previous owner cut too close to the quick?”

               Kakashi pursed his lips. “Well, you know what they said about the way he used to be treated” he replied. Rei didn’t want to think about it. Toshio’s past was a heartbreaking reminder that he was still a flawed and fearful creature. That he had likely seen and experienced things that no dog should ever face. It only made sense that he was guarded, even if he and Rei had built a repertoire among one another.

               Sighing, Rei replied, “Well, I guess we have no other choice. We’ll have to try the muzzle.”

               Kakashi took it upon himself to purchase the muzzle on his own. It didn’t feel right for Rei to come with him, seeing as Toshio would surely follow suit and that was essentially the same as accompanying your killer to the armory to pick which bullet he’d shoot through your skull.

               Toshio knew something was up the minute Kakashi returned home, as if he could smell trouble from inside the shopping bag. Rei scratched behind his ear in an effort to keep him calm, asking Kakashi, “Do you really think this will work?”

               “Well, there’s only one way to find out” he replied. After Toshio had calmed down from Kakashi’s return, they made their attempt. The minute he saw the muzzle, he tried to make a run for it but Rei restrained him before he could get very far. Or at least tried to. The issue with Toshio was that he was more like a bear than a dog when it came to size and strength. Physical strength was certainly not Rei’s strong suit, either, which made restraining him doubly hard. Kakashi tried to be quick and efficient but it was no use. Toshio was too fast and too strong for the both of them. He writhed underneath Rei’s body, snarling and snapping, before shaking her off him completely and shoving his fat body under the bed.

               Rei huffed her bangs out of her face and faceplanted against the living room floor. “Oh my god” she whined, voice muffled. “We’re never going to get his nails cut.”

               Kakashi glanced back at Toshio over his shoulder before tossing the muzzle over his shoulder. “I guess that was a waste of twenty bucks” he sighed. “Maybe we should ask the Inuzukas. Hana’s a vet-nin. I’m sure she’d know what to do.”

               “Yeah” Rei sighed. She turned to rest the side of her face against the cold wood floors. In her eyes, Kakashi saw defeat. “Yeah, I’m sure she would.”

               A few days passed before Rei and Kakashi made the decision to approach Hana. Toshio accompanied them, albeit reluctantly, as if he knew deep down that they were up to something. Hana propped the door to the Inuzuka Veterinary Clinic open as she caught them walking up the pathway, ushering them inside with a warm and welcoming smile. Rei nodded once, polite but anxious, as she slipped inside. Toshio slowed his pace the nearer he came to the clinic but did not run off.

               “So, what seems to be the trouble?” Hana asked. She knelt down to let Toshio sniff her hand, scratching behind his ear once they were acquainted. Fortunately, he did not resist her. He must have known in some sense that she, as well as all the other Inuzuka’s, were dog people and therefore trustworthy. He must have smelled their camaraderie in their blood.

               Rei hesitantly sat herself in one of the chairs in the waiting room as she explained the situation. She kept her voice low, fearful that Toshio would quickly turn anxious should he hear her mention the nail clippers. Hana listened intently, nodding along in understanding.

               “Well, normally what we like to do is get the dog comfortable with the idea of the clippers” she explained. “Our goal is to ease them into trusting us by rewarding them with treats whenever we break the equipment out so that they learn these are not instruments of harm.” Rei’s face paled for a moment at the thought. She was more than willing to work through this, of course, no matter how long it took, but things were already borderline unbearable. She wasn’t sure how much more time she could spend on the slower methods before one of Toshio’s nails just broke off. Then he would surely be in even more than he might already be. Sensing her anxiety, Kakashi rested a reassuring hand at the base of Rei’s neck. Hana pursed her lips as she surveyed Toshio’s paws herself. “But in a case such as this” she continued, “our best course of action would be to utilize more drastic measures.”

               “Drastic measures?” Rei repeated. She didn’t like the sound of that. What did she even mean by drastic measures? Rei felt her chest tighten with the somber and sudden fear that even the vet-nin thought she was a terrible dog owner.

               Hana nodded as she rose to her feet. “Seeing as Toshio’s nails are in what I would categorize as severe condition, and he is noncompliant with alternative methods, our best bet at this point would be sedation.”

               Rei’s heart dropped. “E-excuse you!” she shouted, leaping to her feet. “You don’t need to put him down just because he’s—”

               “Rei, calm down” Kakashi murmured in her ear. “She said sedation, not euthanization.”

               “Oh, yes!” Hana replied, raising her hands in surrender. Her face frowned in severe apology. “We would only give him a mild tranquilizer intended to knock him unconscious for about forty five minutes so we can take care of business. While uncommon, it’s a very standard procedure and won’t cause any long-term harm to the dog.”

               Frowning, Rei gripped Kakashi’s hand and turned her gaze to Toshio. He had since made himself comfortable on the waiting room floor, tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth as he panted calmly. “Kakashi, we need to talk” she whispered.

               Kakashi excused the two of them before Rei pulled him outside, panicked. “Are you okay?” he asked.

               “Kakashi, I don’t know if I can do this” she replied. She gripped her hair and began pacing up and down the walkway, thinking. “I feel so terrible. I don’t think I can put Toshio through this.”

               “Well, what other choice do we have?” Kakashi asked. “We can’t avoid this any longer, Rei. Clearly we’re not strong enough to do this on our own and I really don’t want to put Toshio at risk if we let this go.”

               Rei chewed her lower lip as she considered Kakashi’s words. Truthfully, she felt the same way. If this was going to cause him problems, or further discomfort, it needed to be taken care of. The thought of tranquilizing him, though? It was just too much. If only there was a better way. But Kakashi reminded her that they had exhausted all other options. This was truly their last resort. Gripping his hand tightly, she followed him back inside the clinic and they agreed to the procedure.

               The sedative, a tiny pill, was given inside a wad of bread smothered with peanut butter. In a matter of minutes, Toshio began to grow drowsy and sway when he walked. Rei watched with bated breath from the corner of the exam room—Hana suggested she stay outside but it didn’t feel right. Rei deserved to be there. She needed to be by Toshio’s side if something went awry. Little did she know that things would, in fact, go haywire.

               The moment Hana reached for the nail clippers, Toshio’s tired eyes locked on her and his upper lip curled. Rei’s heart leapt into her throat as she idled, unsure of what she should do, if anything. Hana seemed completely unaffected, however. She started with the back paws, which Toshio allowed her to trim but not without complaint. When she reached the front, however, Toshio snarled, deep but sleepy. He was completely drunk and yet somehow he still had enough strength to resist. When he tried to get up, Hana encouraged Rei to stand beside him and hold him still.

               “I thought you said this would knock him out!” Rei exclaimed, terrified.

               “I thought it would” Hana murmured. She carefully took Toshio’s left paw in her hand, snipped quickly and cautiously as he wiggled under Rei’s grasp and barked out in protest. His voice sounded so low and slurred, like a completely different dog. “Based on his weight, I gave him a pill and a half. That usually knocks Rottweilers out, but apparently not him.”

               “Oh, perfect” Rei complained under her breath. She tried to keep Toshio steady as Hana moved to the other paw, assuring the dog that they were almost done and that he was a good boy. Toshio shook his head and attempted to back up against the wall but it was no use. When he turned toward Rei, she expected him to growl or snap at her but instead, he met her gaze with tired eyes searching for comfort. Rei’s heart broke.

               Once finished, Rei trudged out of the exam room frazzled and worn. Kakashi leapt to his feet immediately. “How did it go?”

               “Well, it’s been taken care of” Rei sighed, dropping into one of the vinyl chairs. “Just know that we are never doing this again.”

               Hana emerged shortly after, looking to them calmly. “Toshio should be good to go home in a few minutes. In the meantime, I’m going to give you a prescription for the sedative we used so that you’ll have it on hand for the next time his nails need to be trimmed, or if he’s ever in an any other situation where he shows signs of aggression or anxiety” she explained. She scribbled the prescription onto a piece of paper before handing it over. “They should be able to fill this at the pharmacy in the hospital” she instructed. Rei nodded and thanked her quietly as she took the paper and tucked it into her back pouch. She met Kakashi’s eyes then as he tilted his head toward the exam room, silently agreeing that it was time to bring their boy home.

               The effects of the sedative, Hana said, would wear off completely in a few hours. As Rei and Kakashi tried to bring Toshio to his feet, however, it was clear he would not be able to walk home on his own. His legs buckled beneath his bulky body so that he could only manage a few swaying steps before collapsing. All of his aggression had melted away and was replaced with a sense of dopey delight as he stared back at them starry-eyed. He turned his head with slow, sleepy movements, his spotted tongue lopping from one side to the other. With their apartment all the way across town, there was really only one option left for bringing him home. Kakashi braced as himself as he knelt down and lifted him up in his arms, a groan breaking past his lips from the sheer weight.

               “Alright, let’s get him home before my arms fall off” he choked. Rei nodded once and together they raced home as quickly as they could manage with an 80-pound beast in tow.

               As night fell across Konoha, Rei snuggled up next to Kakashi on the couch. Toshio’s sedatives had finally worn off but the excitement of the day left him exhausted. She kept her eyes locked on his chest, rising and falling with his mellow breaths, as he slept in the middle of the living room floor. “Do you think we made the right decision?” Rei asked quietly.

               “Hmm?” Kakashi hummed, looking up from his book. It took his brain a moment to register what she had said. “I don’t think we really had any other options” he then replied.

               Rei gave a single nod before leaning her head on Kakashi’s shoulder. “I just hate seeing him suffer. I hate that we had to resort to this” she replied.

               Kakashi set his book down on the coffee table and turned to cup Rei’s face in his hands. “Rei, look at me” he murmured. “I know how difficult this was, but we did the right thing. We did what was best for Toshio. Sometimes the right decision isn’t always the easiest one, but we made that decision anyway and I’m proud of us for it.”

               “You really think so?” Rei asked.

               “I know so” Kakashi replied. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, letting her settle against his chest. “After all” he continued, “we’ve made a commitment to take care of him. We wouldn’t be doing our job right if we had ignored this.”

               “Yeah…” Rei murmured. Her eyes were growing heavy as the steady beat of Kakashi’s heart lulled her to sleep. As she closed her eyes, a soft giggle escaped her lips and she then whispered, “You know, in a way I guess this is good practice.”

               “Good practice?” Kakashi asked. He tilted his head so as to look down at her. “Good practice for what?”

               Before he could get a reply, however, Rei was already fast asleep. Or at least that’s what she wanted him to believe. She snuggled up against him and sighed but Kakashi couldn’t even be bothered. They had had a long day, she deserved her rest. He brushed the bangs out of her face and kissed her on the forehead before turning back to his book. If he really wanted answers, it could wait until morning. For now, they all deserved peace and quiet.

[dennydraws]

Good Morning! Life Update!

The holiday season has been kicking my butt at work but the end is nigh! Holiday time off is after one more week! 

Bellow be your usual Denny ramble about what’s up, what’s on my mind, thoughts on 2019 that for once aren’t FF14 related (I mean I can always talk plenty about how amazing Shadowbringers was, ahem!)  aaaanyhow... please feel free to ignore! 

Gosh, what a year it was. We kickstarted the repairs at home and while obviously we couldn’t fix the whole apartment, we fixed the restroom, the bathroom and the dining room! I’m so happy how the dining room looks now! It’s so light and cozy. ^^

Doing the holiday decoration filled me with so much warm and fuzzy feelings this year!

When I started at my job six years ago, I began saving to get a place of my own. With my dad paralyzed and mom fighting cancer the apartment was in shambles and crumbling more and more as years went by. It was so depressing looking at my childhood home just slowly breaking down. When dad passed away last year I thought I wanted to leave asap, of course I didn’t want to stay in this depressing gray ruin of a home. But then I thought it over and decided next year to pour my savings into fixing the apartment. I wasn’t lucky in my love life so I doubt I will be moving out anytime soon, may as well just make my living space more comfortably for me and my mom.  ^_^9 And of course I knew nothing of repairs so the year was pretty intense with ordering things, researching, furniture hunting, etc lol But I do feel braver now and what is left to fix from the apartment shouldn’t be as difficult! ...or so I hope lol

Speaking of dating, I tried to date someone ... kind of! It is so, so hard to open up to the possibility after a traumatizing break up but I’m proud of myself for trying! It didn’t work out but it left me less hurt than I expected which was a plus. In a world where everyone is so set on quick physical contact, creating an emotional bond is so hard. People aren’t as patient. Which to an extend I can understand. When you aren’t 20 anymore you really want to speed things up, I suppose.

I still feel sad and crestfallen at times. I write all these happy love stories all the time but can’t seem to be able to have one for me. ^_^;; But I’m trying to think less of it and just work on myself more. Be braver than yesterday, stronger than before and be patient and kind with myself and everyone else. And if I don’t find a partner well, we can’t all have it all! 

Speaking of healthy habits...! Oh boy, I can’t believe I hit 62kgs again...! I’ve been into healthy foods and cooking since last year and I’ve been feeling great. Now to ruin it all during the holidays, riiight? Healthy body, healthy mind! I hope I can keep it up through 2020 as well and try even more new things... after the kitchen gets fixed that is.. XD  I’ve been diligent with journaling and it had helped me my anxiety so much, it’s another habit I hope I can keep up through next year!

And speaking of next year... I’m thinking to pick another comic project but I’ll post about that later! :D Excited to work on another story and having a long term project again, I hope it will work out! And I hope I get to post and talk more about art in 2020. I miss talking about arty things!

Lastly, 2019 blessed me with patient, kind and nurturing friends who help me heal even when they don’t realize it. Blessed with kind blog followers here and on my RP blog, and recently on Twitter too. Thank you!  🙏

Bonus: I braved up and went to office Christmas party last night and survived it!  ✌️

And boy, that was a long one! Thank you for reading, dear friend! Have a cookie! :D