#my brain just fucking rewired itself i guess

[your-jellyfish-senpai]

This is just a personal post for posterity because it has been a fucking time this year, the last two months in particular.

The tl;dr current situation is: Ryan and I both have a crush on the same person and are considering a very specific kind of polyamory

The long story is so much more complicated than that because my own feelings were on a several-month delay so I instead started off with a major breakdown after learning that Ryan had a crush on a mutual friend because of my own insecurities (ample, plentiful, all-consuming) and fears (being abandoned, being replaced, not being good enough, etc.)

Avoiding the specifics because it's truly way too much to get into and frankly, much of what I initially felt, I've dealt with or completely done a 180 at this point lol.

But yeah. Even like, two weeks ago, the concept of polyamory for myself and our relationship freaked me the fuck out. But now it's an open conversation and who fucking knows what's gonna happen.

Anyway. I still have a lot of work to do because my body image is truly horrendous and I've only recently realized that not everyone has the depth and intensity of self-hatred for their physical appearance that I do. And Ryan has been telling me that they think I am "much more attractive" than I think I am. To which I can't help but respond "sounds fake but okay" or "wild if true."

This has been such a fucking insane period of my life and I haven't really talked about it with anyone except Ryan (and Kaden, ty Kaden) so if you're an IRL friend reading this... sorry lol it's been Complicated and Uncomfortable and Scary As Hell.

But no matter what happens here on out, I do at least feel pretty secure in our relationship and feel like we've once again leveled up our communication.

[wishful-seeker]

Vent about crps

Crps is so weird. By the way i talk about my pain and how i walk slow, or always use my wheelchair, people assume its a sharp acute pain that hurts when you touch it, like tendinitis for example.

But its not. Its a burn. No, not like a work out burn like some people think, which i wouldn't even call a burn, strained muscles don't BURN, yall abled people are using the wrong word. Anyways, no, it's like a STOVE BURN mixed with pins and needles. Feels like you're slowly being roasted on a fire. Just below my skin is a raging flame that cannot be snuffed out. And the skin itself doesn't hurt when yo accidentally bump into it, press it, or massage it, but it hurts like HELL if you softly stroke it, or a fabric fold or seam touches it. Feels like being stabbed with needles, its not a sensory thing, its physically fucking painful.

So yeah you can hug me tight, or accidentally bump into my knee, that doesn't hurt. But don't fucking stroke those areas.

And the WIND god i hate wind. The cold fucking HURTS, somehow cold makes it burn more, like im being burned alive. And when cold wind hits my sensitive areas it burns AND feels like needles.

My only escape is sleep. Its a neurological disease, my brain THINKS i have nerve damage but i actually don't have nerve damage. Sure I've lost mobility i little, can't squat anymore, but there is NO PHYSICAL DAMAGE, NOTHING STRUCTURALLY WRONG WITH MY BODY. My brain is simply confused, its trapped in a constant loop of "oh shit there is nerve damage!" 24/7, but, when i fall asleep it shuts the brain down and there is absolutely no pain. My brain is quirky like that.

And then you have the treatment: ketamine. Ketamine is like chemo. Ketamine is crps's chemotherapy. Its the number 1 treatment, you pretty much cant get remission without it, and its an iv infusion that makes you really sick first few times, causes nightmares, and the entire time of the infusion you are DMT level high. The high itself is actually what the treatment is. The intense, life altering high literally short circuits my brain. It interrupts that loop that my brain is stuck in, and literally rewires it the way its supposed to be, and then i feel a lot less pain. During the infusions there is no pain at all. If i do this long enough it has a chance to fix it semi permanently, which would be remission. Thats how it all works.

It sucks, and it kinda feels like a cruel joke. My only chance of walking is getting high as fuck. Lucky me i guess...

[thursdaysrain]

im going to try posting here every day for . i dont know. a while. and see if i get a feel for it. just whatever off the cuff no editing

recently i watched adventure time front to back (having seen maybe 30% of it forever ago), and i feel kind of goofy for being one of those like 'woah this kid show is so deep and good' converts but there's just a lot of meat on those bones, i guess. it takes itself seriously thematically!

as always consuming very good fiction over such a dense period (i worked through like everything - 10 seasons, distant lands, and fionna and cake - within a few weeks) my brain is rewired and i feel bonkers.

unfortunately i have intense shipping urges but to my dismay (although not unexpected) it is not even one of the top ten ships on AO3 (63 out of 4k works). of course this aired during an era tumblr i'm not so familiar with but i know things were much darker on here 5-10 years ago for Problematic Fanwork.

finn/pb seems to be a radioactive ship. anything i see about it always has all these caveats or is like trying to thread the needle of not specifically being about a manipulative functionally-immortal queen grooming (in both connotations of the word, really) a young teenage boy to be Her knight. not to mention it loses out to pb/marceline, which is 1. gay 2. baited from early in the show and 3. ended up 'winning' and maybe most importantly, unfortunately, 4. is Not Problematic

dont get me wrong i like them together a lot. and i am very happy that it was canonized, or whatever. but there's just so much insanity inducing material w/ finn and princess bubblegum. the show regularly points out how fixated on her he is while also showing again and again how much of a possessive control freak pb is.

there's a lot that keeps running through my brain bc of AT, some things more interesting/useful than others (such as a specific perspective on like, disaster, time, and life going on despite everything that resonates strongly). but no i keep coming back to this weird thing. i blame my chldhood exposure to tenchi muyo for why i am the way i am. this is just my washu/tenchi thing all over again. that's literally what it is what the fuck

i dont think i could get into writing fanfic. im too obsessed w/ worldbuilding, like, over planning things, i cant just slap out a short story. maybe it's worth forcing myself sometime. the closest i ever got (except a couple pieces i wrote in elementary school and lots of fan chatroom RP) was i was planning for a 2hr renpy fanfic vn about manbagi from komi san (maybe my most rabid fixation on a character and a huge outlier) getting together with tadano. komi san kind of lost its momentum for me though, especially with manbagi rotated out of the main cast after her devastating (but inevitable) loss in the main ship war.

all this to say my only recourse is to rotate these cubes in my brain over and over until they shatter into countless pieces and leave their marks on my other works. there's a luxury a long running serial work has, and it's time to really ferment, and i regret i have no such luxury. i suppose that's another benefit of fanfic, though, being able to lean on that.

[polyamorouspunk]

Hey! To follow up on my last ask (advice): so I’m non-binary, and in the past I’ve IDed as a trans man (on T for 3 years, then stopped). I don’t at all regret my HRT, but my presentation has also shifted from pretty masc to being pretty femme. I know that I’m not actually a “trans imposter” or “transtrender” but there’s this part of my brain that keeps telling me I am (b/c I stopped HRT, present femme now, and have a Weird Gender). I guess what I’m asking is, do you know of any ways to help combat these thoughts? They’re honestly really distressing to have so any advice you could offer would be amazing. I hope you’re having a great day! :)

I don’t know if I have any real concrete tips but like for just trying to change mentality the idea of like “there’s nothing more punk than fucking with people’s perceptions and fucking with gender stereotypes” but like yeah. Honestly I look femme dress femme use she/her pronouns and go about my day as someone who just seems to be a cis wlw unless I have those days where I’m like nope it’s time to be trans today (but not really because I’m still comfortable with my agab) so like it’s 100% A Thing™️ for sure, I never really “felt trans” and quite honestly I don’t know if I ever really “feel trans” except let me tell you today I had to do the 1 thing that makes me dysphoric and let me tell you (again) that I could be having the most femme day ever and as SOON as I have to do that I’m like *blarg* I hate myself I hate my body chop my boobs off we’re running away to live a genderless and secondary sex characteristicless life. Other like really generic not-concrete advice is also just like “labels don’t matter lol you don’t have to ID as trans or if you want to just go for it even if you don’t fit the stereotypical trans image wow you’ve never heard this before I know it’s is revolutionary and you’re never going to have a gender crisis again tada” but like yeah. And like hey maybe some people are into really femme trans guys. Honestly I have one mutual on here who is a trans guy and he literally loves wearing skirts and bows and pink and being super femme and like honestly he is living his best life and I love it for him. I’m also mutuals with a drag queen on here which is like hell yeah live your best girl life you funky little genderfluid dude. I don’t think that part of your brain is just going to rewire itself to not have those insecurities unless you put real effort into it. We all have a little voice in our head and it has to tell us SOMETHING and if yours is telling you that you aren’t trans enough then that’s just what it picked and guess what if tomorrow you wake up and suddenly you feel trans enough it’s just going to pick something else to tell you. You just can’t let it get to you, and I’m saying that as someone who hates being told that because they let EVERYTHING get to them.

[devilisln-moved]

Of course I have my preferences when it comes to the grand mystery of Matt’s hypersenses and how he copes.You know, modern existence can be a sensory leaden hellscape even without absurdly heightened senses. Busy houses, screens akimbo, god it’s fucking weird and wonderful that we can watch anything we want on our fucking screens? You know I’m old and remember watching videos I uploaded on my Blackberry Pearl via bluetooth, squinting at a tiny scratched up screen on a bus. Shit I think I put movies on a Nano at some point? The ones with the “bigger”, colour screens. My point is, I need you to google that shit and understand that yeah, man phone screens are pretty fucking small but some of us were watching episodes of Torchwood on a screen about the size of a silver dollar piece in 2010 or whatever. My point is, we can pump ourselves full of sensory experiences. People make money by playing video games, watch videos, draw, cook, make music, being entertaining by doing so, and interacting with an active chat room. They’re not superhuman for being able to do that. They’ve just learned how to manage themselves or naturally function well with a lot of stimuli. I know I’m much more comfortable with something going on in the background when I’m writing. My rambling aside, I think when people talk about Matt’s hypersenses, or any character’s really, they don’t take into account that the brain is an amazing thing. There’s so much it does to order our perceptions.

Matt, as an adult, has always appeared functional unless his senses have been weaponized against him or other wise traumatic (like in intensity or volume). Psyloche, when trying read his mind or whatever, freaked out because she didn’t understand how it didn’t drive him crazy, the sheer amount of sensory input he took in. It’s generally used to back up some assertion of Matt’s brilliance. Which he absolutely is, but I don’t think his mind is like...automatically better because it probably had to essentially rewire itself just in order to adjust to the vast perception change, you know? I guess this has just been a long way to say, i think a lot of how Matt deals with his senses is both deliberate or an innate tendency to filter for the sake of sanity. Ofc, Frank Miller proposed that his apartment had sound proofing, which I don’t hate, either. Also I like the idea of someone installing sound proofing and remarking how weird it was that he didn’t have any recording equipment or lighting because they’re used to installing it for celebrities, influencers, and youtubers. ......although an entire apartment would be so expensive and Marvel has his economic situation perpetually changing. Like sometimes he’s a wealthy and successful lawyer, other times he’s barely scraping by. Honestly, I’m willing to say Matt is a more realistically written vigilante because it doesn’t just impact physically, emotionally, or his relationships. It affects him financially as well, and I respect that conceptually. It does make a big old question mark when it comes to his nice apartments and suits.I like to think his father set a fund up for him, and at least with that money, Matt’s more careful.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my stupid brain working through a thing.

[fictionkinfessions]

https://www.tumblr.com/fictionkinfessions/771067276194693120/so-what-the-fuck-kin-gods-this-character-is

CHATTY DEE ‼️‼️

wait that is so cool, I feel like a whole new world has opened up to me?? like… yeah, yeah I guess someone can kin Chatty Dee, huh! *I* could kin Chatty Dee, hypothetically…

can’t describe it but it feels like my brain mildly rewired itself just now. so thanks haha

[ilhoonftw]

'i can't trust someone who talks about their trauma with smile on their face' some people cope that way. i do that, it's a grimace that resembles a smile, and it caused me to get doubled by at least 3 different therapists. everyone deals with whatever abuse they went through differently, it doesn't mean one way is better than another, it's just somehow some ways are more socially acceptable. in general talking about mental health is never easy and honestly other people don't make it any easier. when people with social anxiety get accused of faking it because they attend idk work events or go to crowded malls sometimes... like the amount of times i saw people doubt someone's struggle just because 'someone with x doesn't do y' when truly they don't know shit about mental health beyond tiktok/instagram pop-psychology. the amount of people who are supposedly narcissists but in reality it's just 'i don't like them but i need a reason to so do and calling them that is good enough i guess'. i don't remember ever crying when recalling my past, it's just something i never did. and it doesn't make anything i went through less legitimate. like you're lucky if you never had to to through something that fucked you up to a degree your brain rewired itself

[thefruitanditsmysteries]

In most depictions of human bill cipher he is wearing an eyepatch. Here are some of my headcanons regarding that:

Under the eyepatch is just a hole that is a pocket dimension

The body originally had two eyes but he was like "what the fuck is this?" And just uh... took it out (I think he'd find the resulting pain fun)

There is another fully functioning eye underneath that he doesn't like to use, he probably just picked his favorite

He's embarrassed to now have the typical-human-amount of eyes so ignores one

There is an actual empty eye socket

He's blind in that eye

He snapped his finger and the human brain rewired itself so that he'd only need one eye, then I think he'd snap his finger to just close up one eye socket

Bonus

There is a tiny colony of [redacted] living inside and controlling him and the eyepatch is the door

Having two eyes is high maintenance, trust me I'd know (would not recommend) /j

I will say, since artists like to give him only one human eye bc he has one demon eye, it'd be cool to see a variation of that where he has no nose or mouth and like four fingers and whatnot. So he just speaks like he did before but without the glowing and maybe even just conjure body parts if he decides he wants them. I think it'd be pretty cool to get this version in fics too. And like when Bill is tryna be a normal human instead of doing the voice projection thingy, he uses sign language because I can imagine him finding having a mouth annoying (like eww what the fuck is all this new sensory information and why is it so slimy) and he'd be able to learn all of sign language with a snap of his fingers i imagine (imagine a fanfic/fanart where he sits down to take the time and learn it tho, like holy shit).

Well, I do suppose removing nose mouth and some fingers wouldn't be considered a human depiction perse, so I guess a humanoid version of Bill is more accurate to say.

But anyway, please tag or DM me if you see art or fics like any of this bc I haven't seen any <3

[lovelywingsart]

Metallic (18+)

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

Oh lord here we go- Ok, first off, y'all get a small paragraph beforehand, please forgive me. :'D I've... never posted smut THIS PUBLICLY before. This is admittedly incredibly nerve-wracking and I'm hella nervous because I feel like I write... 'conservatively'? You'll see what I mean. So... Please go easy on me for this one...? I'm great for sweet stuff and angst, but smut is a whole other beast despite NSFW being one of my favorite art forms when drawing. I mean, I've already made a few *spicy* art pieces for them, but just... Writing is difficult. I mean, I really hope you guys like it anyway!! But fair warning. THIS is new for me. QuQ I do have a few more smut pieces in the works, but this was the first one written.

So uh... on to the story, I guess...!

**Small reminder that I have a small 'Masterlist' for these!**

-------

*Warning?: Hella smut, lots of biting, choking and kisses, some blood from said biting, just rough sex in general? Normal, to rough, to fluff. not entirely sure what else to add?? :'D It's all consensual, no worries.

Summary: With some high tensions, a smart mouth, and some unfortunate forgetfulness, Emelia gets herself into a bit of... 'trouble' with the notorious Metal Man. But maybe this time she bit off a bit more than she could chew... Not that she really ends up minding.

A pair of footsteps echoed through the underground tunnels of the factory, almost mimicking the constant sounds of pickaxes being dug into the stone. The walking man looked around every once in a while, seemingly proud of whatever progress had been made.

"All is going well. Good, good." He said proudly, puffing on the cigar he held between his fingers. The woman next to him rolled her eye. The small lights of the tunnels glinted in the glasses he wore as he turned his head to glance at her. "Is there a problem?" He chuckled.

"If by 'well' you mean 'excruciatingly slow by dimwitted slaves', then yes."

"Would you like to join them then, Emmy?"

"Bloody hell, no. I'm still sore from lugging those damned carts around..." Emelia mumbled, reaching to rub behind her neck. The man next to her chuckled again, handing over his cigar. He stepped forward slightly as she took it, holding out his free arm.

"And yet you're still walking!" He chimed, looking back at her as she puffed on the cigar, herself. "We'll change that soon enough."

"I'm not working myself to death, Heisenberg." She huffed, picking up speed and shoving the cigar back into his face. "While factory productions are important to me too, perhaps learn the definition of a 'break', and not as in 'break my back'."

Karl took the cigar with amusement as she walked forward ahead, clearly heading back to the main building.

"First you tell me to work harder, then you say not at all." He mused, following closely. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I can do what I want?"

"And yet, what you want is what affects YOUR factory in the long run... Timing, Karl."

"You act as if you know more about MY factory than I do."

"And what do you know?"

"Everything."

"Good, then you know I'm heading upstairs to rest for a moment."

"I assumed so."

~

The two wandered along the corridors to a hall with stairs leading to a metal door, sharing the cigar before she went forward and kicked the door open, snorting as she heard an irritated grunt behind her.

"If you break that, you're fixing it." He muttered, setting his hammer down to the side as he took the cigar from her. She snorted, tossing her own weapon to the side, watching it land on a pile of fabrics used for either covering machinery or covering herself when she slept, whichever happened to come first.

"You say that as if it would be difficult." She retorted, taking her hair out of the tie it was in and running her hand through it before stretching slightly as he walked past her to sit in a chair next to a desk in the room they were in. It was similar to a bedroom, but not quite. 'More like an office with a small bed' , she always said, occasionally taking residence on said 'bed' when she was tired. She felt Heisenbergs eyes on her as her muscles stretched and popped, and she let out a satisfied groan.

"It wouldn't be, but you'll have to make a new one from scratch." He said, arching a brow as he leaned back in the chair. She rolled her eye, moving to stretch her arms in front of her.

"Again, not hard." She shrugged, finally moving towards the desk he was next to. "Making a door takes less brains than you already have."

"Are you calling me an idiot?"

"I'm not calling you a genius."

She almost laughed as she saw him pause before taking a long drag on the cigar.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you say that." He sighed. She shrugged, leaning over the table and looking over the papers that had been laying on it.

"It's a joke, Heisenberg. I'll admit you're more intelligent than you let on." She said, moving the papers and other objects slightly while looking at them. She then paused as she held them, her eye going over the plans, x-rays, and sketches. "Did you leave out the other Soldat plans?"

"They're in with the cadou notes. I thought you would have seen them." He said simply, reaching for a manila folder on the corner of the table. He put the cigar in his mouth as he opened it and flipped through with a huff. "The new ones haven't been functioning properly, damn things... I'm thinking of rewiring the circuits to the brain.".

"Wouldn't that cause more damage than good?"

"Not if it's done properly." He chewed on the cigar for a moment before flipping over one of the papers. "The worst that could happen is the head exploding from the current. In that case-"

"Lycan food?" She suggested. He nodded in agreement.

"Lycan food. They're mostly useless to me otherwise..."

"As are most things..." she muttered, earning a glance. She looked back at him. "What? Am I wrong?"

"Not necessarily. Others do still have use."

"How?" She asked, turning to face him. "No head means no use."

He shrugged, tossing the folder back onto the table before leaning back in the chair.

"Replace certain muscle tissue and bones with pneumatic or hydraulic systems, whichever proves to be less of a pain in the ass that day, hot wire circuits to the remaining muscle structures, add an engine system into the chest with a strong battery..." he tilted his head slightly, almost as if he were picturing the plans in his head, thinking of more details as he went along. "They would quite literally be mindless, but a few shocks and currents would make them go just fine."

"Sounds a bit like you..." Emelia snorted, turning back to the table to organize the papers as he glared at her. "Shall I pick a few poor sods from the village to test this?"

"Or I could just use you..." he muttered.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Keep making your ass-backwards comments and see what happens." He shot back, finally pushing himself up to stand. "Yes, I'd like you to do that. Fresh bodies work best for the experiments. I'll send out the Lycans as well, given they don't tear them apart."

"That wouldn't matter anyway, Karl. You'll just stitch them back up like you always do."

"I could, couldn't I?" He started, taking a step closer to stand next to her with a sinister smile. "Or I could make YOU do it. You seem to have fun with tearing things apart and putting them back together-"

"I'm NOT sewing your bloody creations together." She interrupted. "I'll kill them and I'll tear them to shreds, or I'll assist with the inner workings of the mechanics. I don't sew."

"You'll learn."

"Like hell I will."

"I'll make you."

"Bullocks."

"Keep talking, Emelia." He dared, his voice lowering in a threatening manor. "I'm not in the mood."

"You were before we got here." She challenged. She only held her breath as he suddenly snuffed out the cigar on the table itself while his eyes seemed to stare directly through her.

"That's what happens when you keep insulting me, Emmy. I start to get angry. You know that."

She felt a chill down her spine at his voice. It was different from any other time she had aggravated him... It was as if she were in actual danger. His face was only inches away from hers, and he smirked once he noticed her hesitation.

"Scared, Emelia?"

She kept her eye on him, watching his movements carefully. No, No she wasn't in danger... Maybe.

"No." She replied, lifting her chin slightly as he arched a brow.

"Oh?"

"What is it you say to me...? I'm 'in a mood'...? Because I believe you're currently in one, yourself." She asked, finally moving forward and brushing past him in a nonchalant manor despite being somewhat stiff in her movements. "Drink some coffee and throw a few things around with that power of yours, you'll be fine."

She felt his eyes on her as she neared a cushioned chair against the wall.

"I'll throw YOU around..." He growled, taking amusement in her body slowing down as he spoke. He walked towards her as she turned to face him. "See how that pretty mouth works after your head goes through a wall."

"You forget I've stopped your hammer with my arm." She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest before smirking. "You smashing my head through a wall would be as effective as Sturm trying to hold something with his nubs."

"You don't seem to understand what I can do to you, Emelia."

"And you don't seem to understand the amount of fucks I don't give, Karl."

His arm twitched slightly, and she glanced over as metal pieces on the floor began to shake just slightly. She just hoped he wouldn't direct his power towards her...

"If you would like to play, I'll GLADLY entertain you."

She suddenly got in his face, a mischievous, antagonistic spark in the gold of her eye.

"Entertain me HOW? Throw me to the Lycans? The Varcolacs? Hell, let Urias get ahold of me, see what happens."

He bared his teeth in a snarl, though the corners of his mouth stayed in a malicious grin.

"I'll turn YOU into a goddamn Soldat, you'll be so full of metal you won't be able to FUNCTION without me-"

"I'm more afraid of your SISTER than I am you!"

Her smirk widened as she saw a sudden spark of anger in his face, his smile faltering.

"Don't you dare attempt to bring that bitch into this, I'll put my hammer straight into your skull-"

"TRY ME, THEN-" She started, only to give a yelping gasp in surprise as Heisenberg slammed her against the wall by her throat.

"Shut your damn hole!!!-" He snarled. His grip was tight, but he seemed to stop once he glanced at her open mouth. All of a sudden the air around them changed, and she stared at him with confusion in her one golden eye. "Oh, Emmy, you didn't tell me!" He said with a sudden cheerful tone, moving his hand from her throat to her jaw. He switched so quickly...

"Wh-" she began, only to stop as her jaw was yanked open. She was confused until she saw the reflection of her tongue piercing in his glasses.

Shit.

"Well well, I guess you've got some metal in you after all. I won't have to try as hard..." He chuckled, tilting his head as she stared at her own reflection. "What else are you hiding from me, Emmy?"

Her eye was wide in simultaneous fear and curiosity. She knew she couldn't have hidden the piercings forever, but certainly longer than this. She usually at least took the one out of her mouth when around him given how often they talked for this reason... But even then, he had never noticed it before. Why now?! She kicked herself for forgetting. She wanted to shove him away... Shove him and run. Would he chase her? He was most definitely trying to scare her, she knew that much... But she also wanted to know how far he would actually go if she did nothing. Would he rip them out if he found the others? Use them as control like he mentioned? Or would he leave her alone? Something told her the latter was out of the question as he showed growing interest in her silence.

"N-.... Nothing..." she managed, nudging her jaw out of his grip. "I just-"

"You're a liar, Emelia." He said, his grin growing wider. She gave a huff and shook her head.

"I am not, you ridiculous-"

She was stopped with a startled gasp as a gloved thumb was shoved between her jaws, nearly propping her mouth open.

"Now now, this'll go far easier if you do it my way. Now open up."

He lifted his other hand to his face, taking a finger of the glove between his teeth and sliding it off. The glove fell to the ground between them, and she watched as he reached for her face with his bare hand. She flinched slightly as his fingers pressed against her lower jaw, though admittedly relaxed as his thumb drifted over her bottom lip. The skin was expectantly rough, she found, calloused and covered in smaller scars. She closed her eye as it drifted over her sharp lower teeth before thrusting over her tongue, pushing it back and causing a small gaging reflex. It tasted... metallic... Metallic with hints of other things. Not quite metal, not quite blood... Maybe residual oil? Maybe a hint of the cigars. She couldn't tell exactly what it was, but the mixture wasn't bad... She really didn't mind much. She could almost feel the interested look on his face as she relaxed, though she attempted to hide it. Oh god, was she enjoying this...? She only flinched as he pressed his thumb against the muscle, pushing it out of her mouth somewhat to see the piercing fully.

"Let's see how much you're hiding from me, shall we?" He grinned.

There was a moment of confused silence before she felt his thumb press against the metal rod, her eye snapping open with a gasping yelp as what felt like electric sparks and currents traveled through that piercing, as well as the others.

All the others.

The sparks lasted only a second, but a second was all that was needed as her back arched slightly away from the wall. Heisenberg took a step back in surprise as Emelia suddenly collapsed to her knees, shaking and panting ever so slightly out of shock and... something else. She doubled over with a wide eye, an arm covering her chest and the other pressed against her abdomen and ever tightening thighs. What the hell WAS that...?! What the fuck did he do?!

"W-.... Wh-...." she tried, trying to voice her thoughts. But alas, despite the tingling feeling up her spine disappearing, she couldn't. She couldn't even move as she heard movement directly in front of her, the shock of the feeling only allowing her to look up as he grabbed her chin and lifted her face to meet his. She watched as he kneeled, only to look up and see the most smug grin she had ever seen.

"Liar liar, Emmy... You know how I hate liars." He chimed, adding to the smug aura he held. It pissed her off, but she couldn't do much about it now... She then grew nervous as he tilted his head, taking in her reaction fully as she stared at him with an ever-deepening red blush on her cheeks. "If I was more foolish, I'd say you enjoyed that."

"I-I... D-did NOT...!!" She snapped, stopping with a small squeak as he shoved his thumb back into her mouth to silence her.

He was met with another squealing whine as he pressed against the piercing once more, gleefully sending more currents through the metal pieces in her body. Emelia reached up to shakily grab his arm as the piercing was left alone once more, though the residual shock still remained. She wanted to say something... Say ANYTHING... but the feeling in her face, chest and thighs was so odd and... and good... It kept her silent, and Heisenberg took interest.

"Lycan got your tongue?" He joked, chuckling as she let out a growl. He found it amusing, of course. She only frowned as he tilted his head with the ever present smirk, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the room. "You know, Emmy..." he started, yanking her forward by the jaw slightly as she kept her hold on his arm. "I can't help but wonder how it tastes."

She felt another shiver down her spine at the sickeningly curious tone in his voice. Taste... Taste?? She stared at him as he removed his thumb from her mouth, though nearly started to form words immediately in stupid curiosity. The answer came to her quickly, however, in the form of a hand around her neck, a mouth to hers, and being shoved against the wall once more. She made an almost strangled noise as her back hit the concrete, her mind attempting to play catch-up as she felt something being shoved into her mouth. More sparks traveled along the piercings as his tongue slid over hers, and she let out a whining growl in response.

The taste of metal and the slightest bit of sweetness filled her mouth, along with the taste of the cigar they had shared only minutes prior. But... Why did it taste so good? Why wasn't she fighting him? She found herself frozen for a few moments as the realization set in that she... truly enjoyed this. He couldn't have known, could he? There was no WAY he could have known... Oh god, what was wrong with her? She generally wanted to strangle the man, but now...

She allowed the frustration from earlier to bubble in her chest, giving her control of her limbs for a few moments. Heisenberg began to back off, thoroughly satisfied in her reactions and his 'taste test' before she suddenly grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked him back against her, giving a quiet grunt as her back was forced against the wall again with his weight. He was brought to his knees at the force of the tug, and it was her turn to feel satisfaction as a startled grunt left this throat.

Emelia returned the forceful kiss with all her strength, her back arching somewhat with the now consistent current from the piercings. Her legs shook slightly as she felt a warm feeling in her thighs from the current, unintentionally letting out quiet whimpers and heavy breaths into the kiss. His hand stayed pressed to her throat before he moved it to the side of her neck and shoved her head upwards with his thumb. He tore himself away to attack her neck immediately, licking along the skin before closing his jaws around it. She gasped as he moved along her neck, leaving bloody bites and bruises while using his free hand to nearly rip at her shirt. The fabric was pulled it from its tucked position, his grip tearing a few holes in the worn fabric as he held it taught away from her skin. She couldn't help it as her heavy breaths turned into pants, and she gripped his arm tighter as she felt the fabric continue to tear from a mixture of his grip and her squirming from the feeling between her legs. She shuddered as he finally pulled away from her now very bruised neck, his lips hovering right against her ear.

"Let me taste all of them, then." He growled, returning his hand to around her neck and squeezing along the bottom of her jaw.

Her squirming paused in his grip. 'Please, oh PLEASE-' she thought, secretly wishing to rip the shirt off, herself. But he couldn't know that... If he did, she knew he'd taunt her mercilessly. Not that he wasn't doing the same now... Instead she shook her head just slightly, trying to even out her breathing.

"W-Wait-" she started quietly, only to gasp once more as he finally tore the front of the shirt clean off from the seams. He tossed the fabric to the side as her back arched to meet the new air her front was exposed to, the newly revealed silver nipple piercings glinting as her body moved.

"Too late." He chuckled deeply, grabbing her by the side and bringing her chest forward as if he were claiming a prize.

He leaned down slightly, his arm wrapping around her as his mouth returned to her skin. He kissed and nipped to her shoulders and collarbone until his lips met the tip of the large scar that rested between her breasts. She swore she could almost see something flicker in his shade-covered eyes as he seemed to study it before nipping at it carefully. The nips were... oddly careful. It was as if he knew what it was... She managed to compose herself enough to speak, one of her hands moving to nudge his shoulder. She couldn't help but give a nervous gulp as he looked up at her, his eyes burning as if her touch had fueled the fire.

"N-... N-Not... um..." she tried, her voice oddly timid. She knew what was happening, though the idea made her nervous... "N-Not... here..."

"Hm?" He tilted his head slightly, loosening his grip on her neck. He then followed her gaze to the small 'bed' in the corner of the room- though it was more like a single mattress over a solid 'frame' with random odd pillows along the wall and multiple covers lumped on top. It was how she liked it.

"Th-There... uh..." she looked away for a moment, heavily aware her burning cheeks. "P-... P-Please..."

She could nearly feel his smile against her skin as he chuckled, though he didn't reply. It was then that she was suddenly picked up with a surprised yelp and tossed over his shoulder, her knees pressing against his sides to balance herself. She managed to hold on long enough before he walked to the 'bed', landing roughly onto it as she was tossed. She nearly scrambled to sit up until she looked up at him, watching him quickly close the space between them, removing his thick jacket and single remaining glove.

"Stay still, Emmy. The show is just getting started." He taunted, unbuttoning the long sleeve shirt he wore before kneeling onto the cushion and looming over her. She couldn't help as her vision traveled down what she could see of his chest, seeing similar scars along his skin.

She opened her mouth to speak, giving a quiet yelp as she was shoved into the sheets by her neck, her legs now situated around his waist. Her back arched as he leaned over, biting at her shoulder and collarbone once more before around one breast and onto the other. She gave a whining gasp as he reached the peak, his tongue swirling around the sensitive skin and the small bar of metal pierced through it, his teeth grazing the it ever so slightly. He used his other hand to trail along the scar on her chest and down to her pierced belly, his rough fingers caressing the skin until they pushed underneath the tied overalls. Her legs twitched as his fingers reached the piercing between them, feeling as it was surrounded by a moist warmth. He smirked.

"I knew it." He said, rubbing against the piercing and bundle of nerves with another jolt of electricity before removing his hand. She couldn't help the whine that left her throat as her hips bucked lightly from the feeling, and he chuckled. "Easy..." he muttered, returning the palm of his hand to her stomach and shoving her down.

He dug his fingers into the skin around the belly piercing as she glanced down, and she made another strangled noise as he sent another wide current through her piercings. Her back arched as he pressed harder to keep her down, though she was startled as he suddenly crushed his mouth against hers once more. The small currents pulsed in a slow rhythm as she returned the kiss, her legs shaking and tightening against his hips. She let out a soft cry against his lips as the pulses increased, her grip on his arm tightening and even pulling him closer as the waves of a small orgasm rushed through her in spasms. The feeling was strengthened with the addition of... something pressed to her thighs underneath their clothing. But the waves... The small spasms that affected the muscles of her back and legs... While it hadn't been something she had felt even when human, and while she knew what it was, all she knew was that it felt good. REALLY good...

She could have sworn up and down she hated the man at any point before this, but as he broke the kiss and pulled away to look at her, she couldn't help but feel... want? Desire? Whatever it was, she knew she didn't want it to stop at the moment, and that's all that mattered to her. She still didn't want to give in so easily... But god damn was this feeling hard to fight off.

"D-... D-Damn you..." she nearly whispered, her voice wavering slightly. She was met with an amused chuckle as he removed his glasses and lightly sent them to the table they had been at before.

"Just what I like to hear..." He taunted, removing his hand from her throat. "Tell me, Emmy... Do you want more? Feel free to say nothing if you do."

She stared at him as he gave another sly grin, opening her mouth as if to protest... But she couldn't. Instead, she remained silent, though gave an irritated, embarrassed huff as she glanced off to the side. Her lip curled into a silent snarl as he gave another chuckle.

"I thought as much." He replied, leaning up. His fingers were dragged along her skin as he moved, trailing along other scars that littered her skin.

She glanced down to follow his hands, watching as they trailed over her hips and around to her front where the knot in the tied mechanic suit she wore. With one quick movement it was untied and loosened, and she jumped as everything was suddenly pulled away and off of her hips, sliding down her thighs. She froze at the new rush of cool air surrounding the warmth between her thighs, and suddenly the entirety of the clothing was removed as he seamlessly pulled it away from her legs. Now she was completely bare in front of him... Exposed.

The desire to cover herself was overwhelming as she met his eyes, seeing the smugness and sense of possession he gave as he took in every visible inch of her skin. Her arms and legs twitched in an attempt to cover any vulnerable areas, but she suddenly found her arms pinned next to her head and his hips against the backs of her thighs to keep them open.

"Don't you dare." He grumbled, a smirk still on his face as he glanced down slightly before looking back up at her face. "I haven't tasted everything yet."

"Wh-..." she tried, her legs twitching again.

She was met with another kiss as he leaned down, though it didn't last long. She let out quiet pants as his lips and teeth moved along her jaw to her neck, leaving more bites and bruises among the ones that already stained the skin. Her arms twitched as he reached her breasts again, hit tongue repeating the same actions as before on both piercings before finally returning to the large scar running down her sternum. He planted light kisses and nips along it, earning her confusion as he continuously moved lower. She watched as he nipped along the skin of her stomach, the corner of her mouth twitching as he seemingly, almost playfully, gently bit the piercing in her belly and glanced up at her. She rolled her eye for a moment before he sent another current through the metals, and she let out a soft whimper. It wasn't until he let go and moved to kiss and bite around her hips and thighs that she realized, her head shooting up with slight panic as she felt his lips against the inside of her thigh.

"H-Hey-"

"Quiet Emmy." He purred, the tone of his voice making her freeze. She watched as he kissed the inside of her thigh once more, her head landing back against the cushion with a shuddering gasp as he bit along the sensitive skin. Her hand flew over her mouth as he moved closer to her core, whimpering as she felt his tongue gliding along the skin.

"K-Karl, wait-" she whimpered through her fingers, only to take in a sharp, gasping breath as she finally felt his tongue against her, moving slowly as if savoring her reactions.

She tried closing her legs, though found it nearly impossible due to his hands forcing them to stay where they were. She could almost feel the bruises form where his fingers pressed against the skin, though that feeling was second in her mind compared to the pleasured sparks up her spine with each movement of his tongue. She couldn't help as her hand left the sheets, finding its way to his head as he played with the small piercing through the bundle of nerves, sending small electric pulses through her body once more. She felt the vibration as he chuckled against her, gripping his hair with small gasps and whimpers as his tongue delved into the warmth. Her back arched slightly with each movement, her thighs shaking from the new sensations. Why did it feel so good...?! She let out a long whine as the electric pulses continued, eventually biting down on her hand as to attempt to prevent any further noises. She could feel the tightness return as his teeth grazed against the piercing, and suddenly her hand was gripping his hair in a fist as she came again, a multitude of muffled whines and mutterings of his name escaping her mouth while her back arched. She barely heard the grunt he gave as he was pressed against her, not even realizing as he was able to pull himself away.

She flinched as Heisenberg reached up to grab her wrist, her body shaking slightly as he managed to nudge her hand away. He ran a hand through his hair to smooth it out, rising to loom over her once more as he licked his lips. Where the actual FUCK did he learn that?!

"That hurt, Emmy." He purred, keeping his grip on her wrist as she finally looked at him. Her face was red as she panted, her legs trembling as they rested against his hips once more. "Good girl."

He smirked as she stared up at him, his tongue swiping over his teeth before he leaned over and yanked her other wrist from her mouth, pinning both of them to the cushion beside her head. Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden movement, her eye widening as it met his. There was a moment of silence as they held a stare down, only ending as he shifted her wrists into one hand and used the other to undo the belt and button of his own pants in one swift motion. It took her a moment to register the movement, keeping eye contact once the full realization of just how far- and how fast- this was about to go hit her. She squirmed slightly in his grip as she glanced down, nearly breaking said grip, only to get caught in yet another rough kiss as she felt something warm press against her thighs. She could taste herself on his tongue, and somehow it made her arousal worse...

She let out a whining groan as she was rubbed against, her back arching once more at the new feeling, only to give a surprised and somewhat pained cry against his lips as she felt him enter her quickly and fully with a grunt. She gasped into the kiss as he returned his hand to her neck, her back arching into his chest and her thighs once again tightening around his waist. More of the pleasurable feeling shot up her spine as he moved a few times, pressing against her roughly as she gave small whimpers and whines. It felt... good... so good. Why did it feel good? Why did all of this just feel GOOD? What the hell was she missing from her old life that didn't include THIS?? She couldn't help the small moan she gave as the kiss was broken, and he shoved his hips against hers. He tightened his fingers around the sides of her neck with a sly smirk as he stayed where he was. Although the glint in his eyes may have looked malicious, his actions proved otherwise as he allowed her a few seconds to relax.

"Am I being too rough with you, Emmy?" He asked, his smirk widening into a grin as she mindlessly shook her head, though it was more like a few twitches.

"N-... No... N-Not rough enough..." she growled with a challenging tone, though her voice was still light. She was met with a dangerous chuckle.

"Good."

Emelia glared up at him with a somewhat clouded eye, her breaths coming in light pants that turned into gasps and moans as his movements continued, growing faster and harder with each passing second. She struggled to keep her voice down despite the feeling of each thrust sending sparks into her chest. The sounds of his low grunts and deep breathing weren't helping, she found, and it made it much more difficult to control her own pleasured noises. She was then aware of a low laugh from him.

"Ah... I didn't think... you could sound like THIS, Emmy...~" He purred, his grip on her neck tightening. She opened her mouth, nearly flinching as she let out more soft moans.

"S-... S-Shut...." she tried, though was unable to finish any thought with her gasps and whines.

Her arms struggled in his grip, shaking with each thrust, only to suddenly be freed as he let go in order to take ahold one of her hips. She mindlessly reached for him almost immediately, gripping the edge of his shirt with one hand and grabbing the necklaces around his neck with the other in order to yank him down. She was rewarded with another rough kiss, her head being jerked up as he kept a hand around her throat. She let go of the necklaces, instead reaching under his shirt, her fingers trailing over his own scars until her nails dug into his back. There was an internal satisfaction as she heard Heisenberg give a surprised grunt, only to give a yelping cry as he suddenly pulled away to replace his hand around her neck with his teeth.

Small sparks of pain made their way through her shoulder as his teeth broke the skin, though they seemed to amplify the feeling as the thrusts became rough and quick. She finally reached her other hand around and under the shirt he wore, her nails dragging down the skin of his back as her moans and whines grew louder.

"F-... FuCK...! K-Karl...!!" She said suddenly, her voice cracking somewhat as she was met with a possessive growl and the slight smell of fresh blood as he let go of her neck. She couldn't help but gasp as she felt his cheek against hers, his beard scratching against her skin as his lips nearly against her ear.

"You're MINE, Emelia..." He growled.

Emelia felt as more pulsing currents were sent through her piercings, and she couldn't help but cry out as the pulses caught her by surprise. Her muscles tensed, her nails tearing at Heisenbergs back as she felt the waves of a strong orgasm, making her body shake and her legs flex around his waist. Her thighs tightened at his hips, halting him enough to keep him where he was as she came, but not long enough to stop him entirely. He let out a low growl as he kept up his movements until he slammed against her hard enough to move her up a few inches. She gave a gasping moan as could feel his muscles shudder and a strange warmth in the pit of her stomach as he filled her, and her back arched against his chest as she nearly hugged him to her for dear life.

There was small silence as their movement ceased, each breathing heavily. Emelia held onto the man over her as if it meant life or death, momentarily forgetting her irritation around him in the first place as there was a sudden feel of lips along her neck in a multitude of small kisses. They were gentle against her bruised skin... The odd tickle of the facial hair made the corner of her mouth twitch as she panted, unintentionally laying her head to the side for him as she very slowly but surely relaxed. Her irritation only slightly returned as she heard a chuckle from her neck, and she glanced down.

"Th' bloody hell is so funny...?" She muttered, unable to keep the lightness from her voice. She watched as he looked up from her neck, a sly smile across his still bloody lips.

"You're adorable, Emmy." He said simply, making her groan and start to push him away.

"Piss off...!!" She growled, only to gasp as he suddenly leaned over her with a chuckle, nearly being pushed into the mattress again as he finally slipped off the button-up shirt.

"Precious little doll, you didn't seem to hear what I said."

'Doll' ...? Emelia stared at him, now also shirtless, taking in the rest of the scars she had never seen. She could feel her face heat up more as he leaned over her, holding himself up with his hands on either side of her shoulders.

"Wha-" she started, only to let out a gasping yelp as he gave a single hard thrust to silence her.

"I told you, Emelia. You're mine. In more ways than one, it seems." He nearly purred, leaning down to press his nose to hers.

Her single eye widened as he grinned, only to be met with a quick, relatively gentle kiss. It took a moment for her to calm down before she returned it, staying where she was and secretly holding herself to that proclamation. She didn't want to admit it... She never would. But somehow, despite how he could be, this made her feel... wanted. It was an odd feeling, and one she knew she would be hesitant on getting used to. But she still hated him... Right?

She gave a soft whine as he pulled away, physically removing himself from her with a shuddering breath. She let out a whimper as she relaxed back against the covers, feeling an odd coldness and even a slight sense of loneliness as his weight left the mattress. She opened her eye with confusion and watched as his pants were fixed before her vision trailed up his back to see the bloody scratches she had left.

"Whoops..." she muttered, earning a chuckle and a glance back.

"I'll let you relax for now, Emmy. I don't wanna break you just yet..." He joked, nodding to the shirt he had left. "Use that for now, we'll get you another shirt later."

She couldn't help but smirk, her face red.

"Done already...?" She asked, her smirk faltering heavily as he glanced back with an odd mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Never said I was, Doll. This is for your sake."

Emelia watched as he began to walk to the jacket he had left, but she felt... sad. Not because he had stopped. Not even because she almost wished they would keep going immediately... No, it was another reason she couldn't quite place with every step away he took. She carefully pushed herself to sit up, wincing at the tenderness that settled between her legs before reaching for her discarded jumpsuit. But she only grabbed the simple boxers she had, managing to slip them on with minimal issue. She saw him slow his movements as she managed to stand, her knees just the slightest bit weak. Holding on to a support beam on the wall, she shakily made her way over to him as he glanced at her with an odd curiosity. She didn't care if she was entirely naked save for underwear, simply covering her chest with her arm as she reached for him. She stumbled into his back, feeling his muscles tense as her arms slowly wrapped around his torso, her fingers lightly drifting along the hair and scars on his chest.

"Don't you dare leave me like this, Heisenberg..." she muttered, pressing the scarred half of her face against his back. She knew he could feel her trembling as her legs threatened to collapse on her.

There was a moment of silence before she heard and felt him chuckle.

"You really are an odd one, Emmy..." He chuckled, turning his head to glance at her over his shoulder before giving a dramatic sigh. "Have it your way, then."

Emelia jumped as he suddenly turned in her arms, her cheeks going red as his face was suddenly mere inches away from hers. What was she DOING? Why she acting this way? She didn't know... But she was pleasantly stunned as she felt his hand raise and nudge her chin gently. However, instead of it going around her neck again as she expected, he simply caressed her cheek, avoiding the scars around her missing eye; Even he knew she hated them being touched, and now didn't seem like the best time to annoy her. In fact, he almost enjoyed her more when she was calm like this... She couldn't help but feel relaxed as the rough pad of his thumb brushed over her skin. Relaxed enough to settle her cheek into his hand fully, ever so slightly trying to remind herself that this wasn't who he was all the time. This was temporary... But she could do temporary.

"... Don't tell anyone..." She muttered suddenly, keeping her hold on him as he leaned back against the shelving next to them to stay comfy. He chuckled once more.

"Who do I have to tell, Emmy?" He chimed. She stared at him for a moment before shrugging, laying her head against his chest.

It was a moment of domesticity that she vaguely remembered wanting as human... Something about someone being close physically always seemed tantalizing, yet there was no way to achieve it here... Or so she thought. If she could just have more time like this... Though she knew it wasn't meant to last, especially not with him... But for now, she appreciated it. It wasn't until her senses focused on the machinery noises outside of the room that she gave a sigh, reluctantly pulling away from him.

"I should get back to work, then..." she mumbled, taking a few steps away, her fingers dragging along his chest before she turned, not seeing Heisenbergs face as he watched her walk away and run a hand through her hair to push it out of her face.

She made her way over back to the bed-like cushion, absent-mindedly picking the button-up shirt he had been wearing and slipping it on, herself. She'd take it since he offered, and because she didn't necessarily feel like hunting down new clothing. It was only slightly loose over her frame, being only slightly smaller than him in stature, and she felt his eyes burrow into her back as she buttoned it up. Quiet footsteps approached her from behind, causing her to jump with a small gasp as arms surrounded her while the shirt was only halfway buttoned. Heisenberg pulled her back against his chest, one hand on her hip and the other around the front of her waist.

"What are you-" she started, only to stop as the arm around her waist raised to nudge the collar of the shirt off her shoulder, placing gentle bites and kisses along the skin as soon as it was shown. Small shivers went up her spine with the movements, and she let out a wavering breath in attempts to not laugh from the tickling of his beard. "K-Karl, stop-"

"I never told you to get back to work..." He said simply, his now semi-serious tone interrupting he train of thought and causing any hint of laughter to disappear. He trailed kisses and bites to her jaw and her ear once more. "Indulge me then, Emmy, and I'll let you go. Let me have my fill."

Her face fell slightly. His fill... Did he mean...?

"W-What, be your toy until you're done?" She huffed, turning her head slightly to face him. Though he was on her blind side, she could almost feel the grin.

"Well, when you put it that way..." he started, letting his hands wander. One trailed under the shirt slightly, his fingers drifting below her belly, while the other found and gave a gentle squeeze to a now exposed breast from the shirt being moved before resting over the large scar. "Yes. But don't worry. I take care of my toys... I said I wouldn't break you so soon. And besides..." he pressed another gentle kiss behind her ear, "You seem like you want more. Am I wrong?"

Emelia took a shaky breath as she felt the odd sensations once more, reaching to hold onto his forearms as his hands moved. Well, of COURSE he was right... She knew there wasn't much else she would have to do around the factory today anyway. She worked constantly, and the factory ran relatively smoothly without her. She even came here for a break, anyway... And, despite her feelings about him, what the man had just shown her was... Well, her legs still held a slight wobble. To say she wanted more was an understatement. And so, she have a small huff and looked forward, tilting her head to allow him at her neck.

"... Go ahead..." she muttered, her voice an embarrassed tone. She felt his grin against her neck taking a breath as he gave a small, rough bite.

"You won't regret it, Emmy."

She gave a small, joking snort.

"I'll believe you if you can prove it, Karl..."

"Oh, even after what I've just shown you?" He played, his lips pressing to her neck once more. She said nothing, only somewhat easing against his chest with a huff. She rolled her eye as he chuckled, though her breath caught in her chest as his hand left the scar, letting his fingers trail up and along her throat. "I didn't think I would have to prove anything."

"You never do..." she muttered suddenly, only to close her mouth as she felt him freeze behind her. Where the hell did that come from...??

"Oh?"

She was silent for a moment before clearing her throat.

"Th-That, ah..." she started, only stopping as he grabbed her throat and pulled her to him roughly.

"What?" He growled, ever so slightly moving them forward. She took shaky steps, following his direction.

"N-Not... what I... mean..." she finally managed, glancing down with a quick breath as she felt the edge of the work table against the front of her thighs.

"Hm. What did you mean then, Emmy?"

"I..." she tried, though was unable to find her voice. What was this rush of excitement...?? The tone of his voice sent chills down her spine as he nibbled at her shoulder while awaiting a response. She then decided to just speak. What could go wrong?

"I-I mean...." she managed, gaining a smirk and holding onto his arm. She could feel as he tilted his head in curiosity. "You haven't quite done so thus far, how am I to believe you could...?" she continued, feeling his grip tighten. Good. She pulled away from him slightly to aggravate him. "You always need to prove yourself Karl, you won't get far without it-"

She was stopped with a surprised grunt as she was suddenly shoved down against the table, giving a surprised grunt of pain as her chin hitting it with a light *thunk* . He kept his hand between her shoulders, using his weight to keep her down as she moved to rub her jaw. Her hand was then suddenly yanked away as he twisted her arm behind her back, earning an uncomfortable grunt.

"Bloody hell- H-hey-!"

"I don't give proof, huh?" He growled suddenly, leaning down over her to talk into her ear. "I assure you, Emelia, I have all the proof you need."

She opened her mouth to speak, only to shut it with a surprised noise as he suddenly bit down on her neck and yanked her towards him. The backs of her thighs hit his hips, and she let out a small, surprised whimper. He slipped his fingers under the waistline of her underwear with his free hand, taunting her by slowly dragging them down. There was a sudden spark at her piercings once more while her lower half squirmed, and she couldn't help but give a small, moaning whine as she felt the sparks increase. Waves of pleasure traveled up her spine, causing her back to arch into the table somewhat and nearly bite her bottom lip until it bled. Small goosebumps covered her skin as she felt her underwear finally fall to her ankles. It wasn't until she felt him adjust himself behind her that she attempted to look to the side, only to be met with a growl and his teeth digging into the skin more.

She could smell the blood as it began to seep from between her skin and his teeth... It made her head swim as she finally felt him rub against her roughly, the small sparks of pain from his teeth adding to the odd pleasure she was feeling. He removed his teeth from her neck for a moment to speak into her ear, sending more shivers down her spine.

"I've got your 'proof' right here." He purred, his smirk nearly audible. He shoved her down again once more. "HERE!!"

He gave a rough thrust forward as he spoke, filling her quickly once again and earning a yelping moan; but this time, he didn't stop. A mixture of pain and pleasure racked her body as he kept up the rough thrusts, simultaneously twisting her arm more behind her back to hold her there. She couldn't stop the now loud moans and whines she gave as she panted, nearly digging her nails into the metal table supporting her. She could feel the pulses of her muscles threatening to tighten and mutate as she was slammed into nearly mercilessly, her fingers creating small dents in the material as she forced her mutation back once she felt a familiar flutter in her chest. He seemed to notice, letting out a low chuckle through his own grunts and growls.

It wasn't long before she felt the sudden waves of an orgasm, making her give a loud cry as she shifted under him, pressing back against him for a moment. She reached forward quickly and gripped the edge of the table, easily denting and nearly crushing it in her grip with light cries as he continued his thrusts through the tightening spasms. Her body shook while he didn't slow down. Instead, he increased his movements, and she almost felt tears come to her eye with the overwhelming sensation.

Her other arm was suddenly freed as he moved to grip both of her hips, leaning down to bite at her shoulder once more with low grunts and growls. He kept going... Oh god, he kept going. She couldn't speak, the only noises leaving her throat being whines and cries. She couldn't help but lean into his jaw, almost begging him for more despite the overstimulation. Her neck was bitten multiple times as if she were being marked, each bite breaking the skin with ease. Beads of blood slowly dripped from the wounds and over her skin every time he let go, only to feel his teeth elsewhere. She felt tightness below her belly once more as she let out a wavering cry of his name, only to be met with slower thrusts and a growl at her ear.

"What do you want, Emelia?" He growled, his voice low and strained. She couldn't help but squirm and push back against him with whining whimpers as he slowed more, quickly becoming frustrated and seemingly desperate. No... No, why was he stopping... Why was he slowing down?!

"N-.. N-No...!! D-Don't- fuck- D-Don't slow-...!!" She managed, earning a dangerous chuckle.

"Tell me Emelia, or I swear to God I'll stop right NOW." He played. She could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. She knew this was amusing to him... It was payback for her insults. Her body shook out of desperation and anger as the thrusts slowed considerably, and she put her forehead against the table with a growling whine. He held her hips in place against the table to prevent her from moving against him. She couldn't take it anymore... She wouldn't even try to fight it. It was as if she were being denied a prize, and she hated it already.

"F-Fuck- I-" she started, barely able to get words out, "Y-YOU Heisenberg, you bloody idiot!!! I want YOU!!!" She finally yelled, her voice cracking somewhat. "J-Just... D-Don't... Don't FUCKING stop!!! Fuck- PLEASE!!"

She could almost feel the pride-filled smirk he gave in knowing he had won, but she didn’t care... Her little outburst gave her slight confidence as he chuckled, his last breath coming as a low growl.. She jumped as she suddenly felt an arm around her waist, roughly pulling her back towards him as his other hand reached to pin and hold hers as if keeping her in place. A wavering whine left her lips as he gave a possessive growl, looming over her with obvious intent.

"Good girl." He grumbled, only giving her a chance to inhale before returning to the powerful, near brutal thrusts from before, pulling her to him with each movement.

She didn't even attempt to hide her voice again, her cries and moans growing louder with each passing second. She almost didn't want the feeling to end, allowing herself to melt into him as her back arched into his chest.

"D-Don't... D-Don't stop... F-FUCK- Don't stop...!!!" She repeated, her voice wavering with uneven pants and gasps.

"You. Are. MINE." He suddenly growled in her ear, not letting her respond before biting into her shoulder once more.

More electric pulses were sent through her piercings, nearly making her scream while gripping the hand over hers. The orgasm she felt then was strong, traveling through her body in waves and overstimulation as the pulses continued. The feeling was amplified as he kept moving for a few seconds, finally pressing her roughly against the table with a loud, wavering growl and swear as he came as well. She let out another gasping moan as she felt him twitch inside of her, shuddering with the light warmth she felt at the pit of her stomach.

The room was filled with the sound of their panting and deep breaths as their rode their highs, and Emelia finally relaxed against the table with a shaky, satisfied sigh while still panting. She felt... good. Great, actually... Very sore now, as well as numb, but good nonetheless. It was as if any frustration she felt had melted away with the thin layer of sweat on her body. She gave a quiet whimper as she felt Heisenberg shift somewhat. He removed his jaws from her shoulder, nudging her head and pressing his cheek against hers as his grip on her loosened to allow her to relax more.

"Are you alright, Emmy?" He asked quietly, his voice low and catching her off guard enough to flinch. She only made a small, confused noise as she glanced over. He chuckled, catching a glimpse of the residual pleasured tears that stained her cheek. He reached over, dragging his thumb over her skin to wipe them away. "Is that a yes?"

She kept her eye on him for a moment before giving a small nod and setting her head back on the table. She attempted to shift, but found her body was... unable to move. The numbness had begun to turn into the feeling of being a puddle, she found. Her muscles shook as she tried to push herself up, and she almost collapsed under him. He nearly laughed while kept his grip on her waist, keeping her upright while he watched in interest.

"Would you like some help?"

"N... N-No, I..." she tried, her voice quiet. There was silence for a moment before she gave a shaky sigh, putting her head down once more in defeat. "... y-yes..."

"I thought so." He chuckled, finally pulling himself away with a quiet grunt. She could hear the amusement in his voice. "Alright. Keep steady, now."

Emelia glanced back as he partially adjusted himself, not bothering to fully fix his pants before he let go of her waist. A small panic entered her chest as her legs began to collapse under her, barely able to use the table to keep herself up before she felt him at her side. Her body shook as she tried to lean up once more, reaching to hold on to Heisenbergs arm as he draped it across her shoulders. He didn't even flinch as she leaned her full weight on him, and he chuckled.

"Come on, then." He said, suddenly leaning down once she was fully off the table. She let out a surprised yelp as he swept his other arm behind her knees, bringing her up into a cradling position against his chest as she held onto him tightly. She tightened her grip more as he started to walk, her face red. "Something wrong?" He asked, amusement thick in his voice. She watched his movements, only somewhat relaxing as they neared the bed.

"N-No..." she replied quietly, slowly easing herself in a sitting position the tattered covers as he set her down, wincing again at the soreness she felt. While the fabrics weren't always the best for relaxing, right now they were comforting, and a godsend for her shaking muscles. She then jumped as he sat down himself before he laid beside her with a huff. She stared at him for a moment as he held his arm out for her. What was he doing...?

"Well?" He asked expectantly, raising a brow as she looked confused.

"... what?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You're wearing my shirt Emmy, the least you could do is lay down."

"What-" she started, only to look down. "O-Oh... um..." She had admittedly forgotten what she had been wearing, and sheepishly pulled the shirt over her now throbbing shoulders and neck. She then adjusted herself on the mattress with a quiet grunt. "Ok..."

"NOW you're embarrassed??" He asked, nudging her arm slightly. "Should I describe, in detail, what I just did to you?"

She glared at him and gave a small huff as she managed to lay down.

"Shut up..." she mumbled, somewhat begrudgingly cuddling onto his chest as he smirked.

"It was an honest question."

Emelia only grumbled in response, though relaxed as she felt his arm go around her. She adjusted her head on his chest, pausing as she felt a heartbeat. It was slow and rhythmic, lulling her into a relaxed breathing pattern. He glanced at her as her arm wrapped over his chest as well, though he froze as she mindlessly began to trace over some of the smaller scars over his skin. She watched her own fingers move, an amused smile creeping on her face as she felt him tense and relax at her touch. She tilted her head slightly as she heard a light grumbling from his chest, her fingers pausing. He shifted under her, and she looked up to meet his eyes.

"What...?" She asked, resuming the movements. She watched as his eyes traveled between her and her fingers multiple times, his breathing easy with small grumbles in each inhale.

"Nothing." He replied simply, only to lift his chin slightly in confusion as she moved her hand to the scar across his neck. She felt his breath hitch as she traced it, and he looked at her again. "What are you doing, Emmy?"

"Nothing." She copied, almost laughing as he rolled his eyes.

"Don't get soft on me now Emelia, just earlier you were threatening me." He snorted.

"I still can if you would rather that."

"Hm. No, I'd rather fuck you again."

She went silent for a moment, her face heating up once more with embarrassment. "You said you wouldn't break me." She huffed.

Heisenberg gave a chuckle before turning to face her, gaining a smirk when she looked at him in surprise.

"I won't. I can't, actually." He said matter-of-factly, suddenly pushing her shoulder to have her lay on her back. She jumped, staring up at him in a stunned silence. "That doesn't mean I can't try. I haven't had that much fun in years, and I know you're durable. So am I."

"I-I can tell..." Emelia managed, clearing her throat slightly. Well, she knew he had a point... Despite being sore, she still felt oddly energized... Sure, the light exhaustion was there, but she knew she would have gone back to work immediately if she were physically able to. And she had to admit... She enjoyed this. It felt... normal. Almost.

She kept her eye on him for a moment before taking a breath. Was she really debating on this? The reality of the current situation hit her full force like Sturm on a rampage. She was silent for another moment before gulping slightly.

"What... What is... 'this' , exactly...?" she asked, her voice quiet. Karl drew back slightly, caught off guard by the question.

"Excuse me...??"

"I... You... You piss me off, Heisenberg..." she started, her arms resting at the sides of her head. Each movement of her shoulders resulted in a dull pain from his teeth, and his mouth twitched as he realized. She paused as she saw the smallest... tiniest twinge of regret in his eyes. But she shook her head, looking down at herself.

"I don't... I've been here for... only a short time compared to you, Karl... And now I... We do... THIS..." she continued, looking back up at him as he held his place over her. "What are we doing...?"

It was his turn to stay silent, obviously contemplating his answer. She had seen the same look on his face when discussing important factory matters... It almost made her feel better.

"What do you want from it?" He asked finally, tilting his head with a light shrug. She blinked.

"... What?"

He rolled his eyes, giving a small smirk.

"Ah, who's asking the hard questions now?" He played, chuckling as she glared at him. "I don't quite care what this leads to, I know what my goals are." He explained. "What are yours? What do YOU want out of it?"

"I..." she started, looking to the side. "... I don't know."

"Then don't worry about it!"

"But I-"

"Look, Emelia. If you can't figure it out, then focus on something else. Is it really worth wasting the energy if you don't know right away?" He asked.

She was silent. He... He was right.

"That... That's the most intelligent thing I've ever heard you say."

She nearly laughed at his insulted expression.

"Hey-"

"I'm joking, Metalhead..." She sighed with a small smile. There was silence for a moment before she finally gave a huff. "Just... For now just..."

"Come on, we don't have all day." Heisenberg joked, smirking as she glared at him.

"... Shut up you daft idiot." She growled finally, reaching to yank him down by his necklaces.

The movement startled him, but he seemed to know exactly what to do as his lips met hers with a light chuckle. The kiss was... gentle, oddly enough, but she relaxed once more under him. Light shivers traveled up her spine as she felt his fingers travel along her skin. The shirt was fully unbuttoned once again and nudged to her sides, and she took a deep breath as she felt the air on her chest. She only whined as her legs were moved, making him pause. There was a soreness between them from his roughness beforehand, sending small waves of a low, pulsing pain through her body. He gave a questioning hum against her lips, and she spoke against his.

"Sore..." she admitted quietly, feeling his amused smile.

"Good." He replied simply, adjusting himself and his pants to rest between her thighs. Emelia let out a quiet whimper as she was rubbed against, her legs shaking against his hips and her arms reaching out to his onto and wrap around his shoulders.

The dull throbbing sensation continued as he pushed into her once more, earning a somewhat pained whine as her back arched. It hurt... But the feeling lessened to a light sting after a few seconds, and she took lighter breaths. She couldn't help but wonder as he stayed still, his words and question playing in her mind as he returned to his position of leaning on his forearms over her. What DID she want from this...? Did she truly wish for any sort of stability from this? Or just survival? Maybe this was the first and last time she'd experience this, or maybe it would be regular. Did she WANT it to be regular, though? She didn't know... All she knew was that his touch swung wildly between rough and gentle every time he touched her, even before this. He always switched between harsher interactions and kind ones, making her angry and thankful at the same time. And yet, when he touched her NOW... Even while over the table, it was almost careful, hesitant to push her too far even while leaving bruises in her skin. Somehow, while sharing this intimacy, he was a perfect mix of the two. And somehow, it calmed her and even gave a small hope in the back of her mind.

Her thoughts stopped, letting out a breathy moan into the kiss as he started moving, this time at a slow pace. This time she kept her arms around him, hugging him close enough for their bare chests to press against each other. Her breaths and moans came from a different sort of pleasure, almost willing to believe that sharing this with him would allow some sort of normalcy. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he set a careful, hard rhythm, one of his arms moving down to press his hand against her stomach.

A single second passed before Heisenberg sent a low pulse of electricity through her body and piercings, causing her back to arch as she pulled away from the kiss with a gasping whine. She felt as he lowered his head with a low groan, starting to kiss and nibble along her jaw. Her nails dug into his back as his movements increased somewhat, creating more scratches to match the ones he already had. Her voice came out in quiet whines and moans into his ear as she clung to him. Sure this was making the soreness worse, but she almost couldn't tell between the low pulses and thrusts coming from the man. Her body shook while simultaneously encouraging more. She WANTED more... She already admitted as much to herself. Another whine escaped her lips as he nibbled just below her ear.

"Fuck, Emmy...~" he nearly purred into her ear, lifting her hips slightly and switching to smaller quick thrusts.

"K-... K-Karl-! F-FUCK-" she managed, her voice breaking somewhat as she allowed her legs to loosen at his sides to bring him closer. She whimpered as he suddenly leaned up, her nails digging and sliding down to his biceps before gripping them as she felt a familiar tightness below her belly; he could feel it, too.

Emelia suddenly held her breath in a surprised, wavering gasp as he slid his hand up her body from the belly piercing, his fingers dragging along the large scar on her chest before lingering and pressing against the sides of her neck. Her whines and moans continued, even as his hand moved higher to her jaw. She then jumped as his thumb pushed past her parted lips, resting on her tongue. She attempted to look up at him, but found it difficult to even keep her eye open... Heisenberg gave a low chuckle at the sight, pushing on her jaw slightly. He didn't even have to say a word as her mouth nearly closed around his thumb. Her whines and whimpers grew louder and her grip on him tightened, and she could only gasp as he pulled his thumb from her mouth and replaced it with his own.

The kiss was returned instantaneously, followed by her wavering, now muffled cry as she finally came once more. He grunted into the kiss as she tightened around him, her legs wrapping around his waist once more while her back arched. She wrapped her arms fully around his shoulders with overstimulated whines as his pace quickened before he finally let out his own wavering moan against her lips. She joined him with her own moan as he shoved his hips against hers, feeling the warmth enter her as he rode out his own orgasm with shaking muscles. God, it felt... It felt good... The warmth and twitching from him kept her whines going as they panted, her body shaking under him.

Both were silent for several moments, the kiss lessening to gentle movements before breaking.

"D-... D-Damn..." Emelia nearly squeaked, her head rolling to the side as her jaw was nuzzled.

"Hm. Are you alright?" Heisenberg asked, earning a small nod.

"... gonna be sore..." she replied quietly, relaxing somewhat as he kept his face against hers. He chuckled.

"You wanted it."

"Shush..." she huffed. Her breathing eased, feeling his smile against her skin. This was... Nice, she had to admit... An uncomfortable whine left her lips as he began to push himself up and away, only pausing as her legs twitched around him to keep him there. "N-No... stay..." she whined, watching as he raised a brow. "... P-Please..."

"I've never heard you say 'please' this much." He joked, earning a light glare. But he simply returned to his place over her with an amused chuckle, nearly laying on her.

She was relaxed despite nearly his entire weight on her torso, though she had no issues. He was really warm... She could almost purr with the warmth both on top of and inside her, the feeling relaxing her to the point of her limbs going lax around him. She felt him chuckle against her skin, taking a breath as his lips found her bruised neck. But her mind wandered elsewhere, and she found herself pressing her cheek to his.

"Can we... Not talk about this...?" She asked quietly, earning a confused hum as he glanced at her.

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"J-Just... Um..." she tried, turning her head to look at him. "M-Maybe this could be... just... stress relief...?"

She jumped as Heisenberg shifted, his face now hovering over hers with their noses together.

"Just stress relief?" He asked, amusement dancing in his eyes as her face reddened. "Is that what you want?"

She simply nodded, her fingers traveling over small scars that covered his upper back and shoulders. 'For now...' she thought. Wait, 'for now'...?? Did she really mean that...? She was pulled out of her thoughts as he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

"Then so be it." Heisenberg said simply, meeting her gaze. She stared up at him before nodding and taking a breath. But he moved before she had a chance to even think, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Hold on."

"What-" she tried, only to cling to him with a surprised yelp as he pushed against the mattress to lean up with her against his chest. She let out a light whine as she was shifted on him, small sparks shooting up her spine as she was settled against his hips while he sat and leaned back against the wall. He couldn't help but smirk as she let out a whimper, her legs twitching. "Better?"

"I..." she tried, though couldn't manage words as she felt him shift against her to make himself comfortable. So she simply nodded before leaning against his chest.

It was his turn to freeze as she nuzzled to his neck, giving a pleased sigh as his arms hesitantly went around her waist. She relaxed against him, enjoying the warmth he gave and the feeling of his arms around her.

"... You're warm..." she said quietly, earning a surprised chuckle.

"I would almost hope so." He replied, reaching up and under the shirt she still wore to drag his fingers along small scars on her back. He smiled as she relaxed. "I'm going to assume you're not moving any time soon?"

He nearly laughed as she nodded against his shoulder.

"Fair assumption..." she mumbled, closing her eye.

While she wasn't necessarily tired, there was a sliver of exhaustion in her chest. She had to admit, there was still pain from the bite marks that now covered her neck and shoulders, and the soreness of her legs came as a dull throbbing. But she oddly didn't mind... She held her breath as she realized her enjoyment of this. The touches, the intimacy... Even the dull pains she felt. Maybe she didn't even mind HIM...

No, no... She DID mind him. Did she...? She still found him infuriating... But the way he held her now was... Well, it made her question quite a bit.

She finally sighed, relaxing fully against him. She focused on his touches against her back instead of the thoughts in her mind, willfully ignoring them for once. She'd enjoy what she had for now... Her attention went to the sounds of his heart and distant machinery, letting them lull her into a light sleep. She didn't NEED she sleep at the moment, but to her, it was almost perfect.

She only hoped it would stay that way.

[untamed-era]

Come Out and Level Up, Part 2

(part 1) (EDIT: link now leads to both halves of part 1)  (EDIT 2: AO3 Link) 

Wei Ying does not look pleased with the situation. This is unexpected. Lan Wangji remembers finding proper labels as a deep relief, a sense that other people matched his experience. Wei Ying, on the other hand, comes and sits down, staring at his phone again, looking dejected.

Lan Wangji waits.

“I’m. I guess it’s good I know this, right? Let me make better choices, going forward. It’s good to. It’s good to understand, why I never particularly wanted to date anyone that asked me out. That’s good.”

He is trying to talk himself into the idea. Lan Wangji continues waiting.

“I just —“ He looks up, suddenly, meeting Lan Wangji’s eyes. “Lan Zhan, I really did want to get married.” He sounds forlorn, lost. “I mean. You remember, I talked about inviting you to a farm, someday? And like.” He shifts, uncomfortably, curling his arms around himself. Lan Wangji wants to hug him, comfort him. He does not know how. “I never pictured a wife, but I don’t… I don’t want to be alone.”

Lan Wangji remembers the fantasy Wei Ying had described. It had been so casually referenced, the idea of a little farm and lots of children running around and food cooking inside. It’s featured heavily in his own fantasies, since, when he allows himself to forget that he was invited only as an interloper.

“Action does not equal attraction,” he tells Wei Ying, quietly. “You may yet find a… wife. If you want. If they are happy with the arrangement.”

“Maybe. But like, how do you know when you’ve found someone you’d be willing to spend your life with, if you don’t have the whole true love thing to work with? I mean, you were the only specific person I ever put anywhere near that whole dream. I can’t think of anyone I know who’d be… who’d fit…” He trails off, thinking.

Lan Wangji looks away, breathing through the emotional turmoil of that. He knows Wei Ying doesn’t mean it like Lan Wangji wishes he did. He’s as good as saying he can’t picture Lan Wangji there all the time, can’t see him as a true life partner of any sort. Lan Wangji will respect that. Of course he will. None of this is about him.

“How did you even figure all this out?” Wei Ying asks, suddenly, and Lan Wangji flinches. Wei Ying plows ahead without noticing. “I mean, there’s so many terms here, and I don’t know — maybe I’m just overthinking everything! I like thinking about sex, I like the idea of kissing! But apparently not like everyone else does? How did you ever sort all this out?”

It was the best words for how I felt about you, Lan Wangji thinks but does not say. It was the only way to make sense of the intensity and specificity of his feelings. How can he help, when Wei Ying’s problem is not knowing, instead of knowing too much?

“I mean,” Wei Ying continues, not waiting for any sort of response, “I mean, like, sure I’ve contemplated kissing people in the past. Specific people, even! I mean, I’ve thought about kissing you, who hasn’t, obviously, that’s just… That’s just part of friendship, isn’t it?”

Lan Wangji stares. All of his deep, meditative thoughts are crumpling around him. He cannot feel any part of his body. He cannot interpret any of this. If he tries, he may actually explode.

“Oooookay you’re looking at me weirdly,” Wei Ying says from very far away and also about two feet from Lan Wangji’s face. It should be farther. It should be much less. How can he cope with any of this. “So what you’re saying is that imagining kissing isn’t a normal part of any close friendship.”

How is Lan Wangji supposed to answer that? It’s certainly a normal part of his closest friendships. Friendship. Singular.

Wei Ying laughs, high and strained. “I don’t suppose we can just forget about what I just said, move back to. Uh. Some other topic? Um.”

Lan Wangji physically cannot. He thinks his entire brain has rewired itself to play “I’ve thought about kissing you” on repeat. He cannot think of anything else well enough to respond. He cannot muster the strength to echo it.

“Maybe I should just. Just go? Sorry, I know I made things weird, I wouldn’t blame—“

“Don’t,” Lan Wangji says. It’s spoken from his instincts, the ones that never want Wei Ying to leave, the ones that he overrules when he has any brainpower left over for them.

“Uh. Okay, Lan Zhan.” He looks nervous, Lan Wangji notes. He should say something to reassure Wei Ying. That sounds good.

“You’ve thought about kissing me,” he says instead. Hmm.

Wei Ying avoids his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah? I… I didn’t think that was a big deal but. I’m also kind of thinking of… a lot of other. Things. I’ve thought about and. Oh, I don’t know. They’re my problem, I guess. I already made things weird enough.”

“What things,” he says.

Wei Ying looks at him, eyes wide.

Lan Wangji struggles to gather his words. “I want. To hear. Your thoughts.” His hands are curled into fists so tightly they hurt. “Always,” he adds.

“Lan Zhan, no, I’ve already made you uncomfortable enough, I wouldn’t want to —“

“I am not uncomfortable.” He hesitates, and self-evaluates. “Or. That is not my primary emotion.”

“Confused you, then.”

And he can’t quite dispute that one. He is confused. He is dumbfounded, and… It takes a long moment to sort through everything else and identify the most prominent emotion.

“Yes,” he says, finally. “But I am also hopeful.”

That finally leaves Wei Ying speechless. It is nice to turn the tables again. He waits, in silence.

“What the fuck, Lan Zhan,” he finally says, weakly. “What the fuck do you have to be hopeful about.”

“You asked about how I figured my identity out.” Lan Wangji says. He can see the shape of the conversation again, he thinks. He does not know the end, but he is hopeful.

“We’re well past that!” Wei Ying says. “That was before I — before — Before —“

“I found the terms,” Lan Wangji says, ploughing ahead heedlessly, “because they best described how much I wanted to kiss you, Wei Ying.”

He has flabbergasted Wei Ying again. He savors it, watching Wei Ying blink and gape and wave one hand wildly. Finally, Wei Ying opens his mouth, and quietly says “Wanted? Past tense?”

“Want,” he admits. It comes easily, in spite of everything. Years of hidden pining, all leading to this one needle-point admission.

Wei Ying stares at him. It’s easy to meet his eyes.

He’s scared, of course he’s scared. He’s on tenterhooks, waiting for the response. But he has had no hope, no reason to say anything, sometimes not even a chance — and now he has them all.

“What the fuck,” Wei Ying finally says, “is this conversation.”

Lan Wangji inclines his head in agreement.

“I mean seriously, what the fuck. I mean this started with me mentioning a gay person at work and now you’re… we’re…. I’m….” He shies away from saying what, exactly, any of these pronouns are doing, which Lan Wangji thinks is deeply unfortunate. He, himself, has been uncomfortably vulnerable multiple times and Wei Ying has mostly just floundered at him. In fairness, he himself had a complicated process of coming to terms with his sexuality and would not have been balanced or coherent about it in the first ten minutes of questioning. He can and will be patient with this. In the part of him that does not care about fairness it rankles, that he spent the last ten years slowly making peace with his identity and here Wei Ying is with the exact same internalized heteronormativity that characterized middle school.

“So, but. You want to kiss me, though.”

Lan Wangji had been very clear on that, he thought. “Mn.”

“Why, though. I mean just… Why?”

Lan Wangji stares at Wei Ying, the love of his life, his best friend, the smartest person he knows, for a good long minute. “Because I am attracted to you. Romantically and sexually.”

They stare at each other for another long moment, Wei Ying’s mouth hanging open. “What the fuck, Lan Zhan,” he says, finally, weakly.

If he were someone else, he could, perhaps, rhapsodize about Wei Ying’s sterling qualities, the foundation of his attraction. He certainly has the material, but lacks the skill to shape it into something convincing. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable,” he says.

“Uncomfortable? Uncomfortable? I’m not uncomfortable, Lan Zhan, I’m just baffled. I mean, you’re you! Who wouldn’t want to hear this stuff from you! How am I supposed to deal with this! How am I supposed to figure out — wait hang on I’m calling Jiang Cheng.”

Lan Wangji blinks. He did not anticipate Wei Ying’s irritating brother being part of any of these confessions. To borrow a phrase from Wei Ying, what the fuck is this conversation.

“Jiang Cheng? Hi, Jiang Cheng, hey, quick question: how much do you think about kissing your male friends.”

The faint but irate voice of Jiang Cheng says “What the fuck, Wei Ying.”

“No, this is important. Do you think about kissing your friends? How often are you hanging out with like, other men, and just start thinking about kissing them. Like just occasionally, or.”

“Never! I never think about that! Why would I?”

“So like. If one of them — let’s say Lan Zhan — offered to kiss you. Would you want to?”

A silence. “Why the fuck would I want to kiss Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng says. Lan Wangji thinks maybe he should be offended, except that it is an exact mirror of his feelings toward Jiang Cheng. Besides, Wei Ying is making a very endearing offended face on his behalf.

“Why wouldn’t you want to kiss Lan Zhan — wait I just realized I could be doing that instead of arguing with you so I guess live on in your delusion.”

“What the fuck, Wei Ying! Don’t you dare go harassing —“

The line cuts off before Jiang Cheng can finish his threat. Fortunately, Lan Wangji cannot find it in himself to give one singular fuck about his opinion right now. He stares at Wei Ying, who looks, suddenly, nervous. He licks his lips, and Lan Wangji stares more. “Uh,” he says, finally. “I still don’t. Exactly. Know where I stand on most of this? Like I’m pretty sure I want to, uh, experiment with, with everything, ‘cause suddenly I have a ton of questions, but mostly I think it’s frankly very rude that you aren’t already kissing me, what’s up with that, Lan Zhan —“

Lan Wangji’s tattered patience abruptly snaps, and he is pulling Wei Ying’s face to his before the other can finish talking. After all, he was not raised to be rude.

[almaasi]

reaction post typed while watching SPN 15x13 “Destiny’s Child”

so Destiel is a pizza metaphor now, I guess :o

--

05:24pm

i am LATE

because my doctor wanted to see me before the entire country goes into self isolation for 4 weeks. so i was there at 10am (an unGODLY HOUR) and they were doing all the appointments in the car park, with the patients in their cars and the doctors outside wielding those forehead-check temperature thingies. anyway i’m not dying. but i did have to go back to bed with wet hair because DECONTAMINATION

also i wore a surgical mask and now i have a rash where it touched me :/

-

05:42

almost done downloading. expectations for this episode: SOMETHING FUN. hopes: a hint (or a heap) of destiel. c:

-

05:45

alrighty it’s done!!! let’s go, lesbians

-

05:45

cas: “if the pizza man truly l--”

OH BOY WE’RE IN FOR SOMETHING

-

cas sexuality recap????????????????? iiiiiiiiiiiiiinteresting,,,,,,,,,,,

-

the pizza man.......... is dean............................

what 

is

happening

seriously what the fuck is happening

for 10 years i’ve expected a destiel recap and thIS WAS NOT IT, FAM

BUT I AM FUCKING INTO IT.

edit: wait, the pizza man is CAS, meg/the empty said later. so dean just wants all the pizza in his mouth i guess

-

05:49

my brain has rewired itself to be unable to see two characters together without worrying about covid-19. i can’t imagine anyone kissing without squicking myself. it’s weird.

and dean and sam are TOO CLOSE

take a little sub-step back there, ladies

-

05:51

other-dean-and-sam step out of their car

okay first off

1. the music. i like it. it’s awful in this show. i’m gonna look it up later.

2. the ANKLE. disgusting. i’m attracted to it.

-

2.1. wait no it’s sam’s ankle i take it back

-

05:56pm

sam: “it’s latin for ‘hidden’. where do we find it?”

billie. “i. don’t. know.        it’s.      hidden.”

i love her so damn much.

-

05:58

dean playing with the rubber band feels like a metaphor for the universes. he twists it into an infinity symbol and ooooooh

-

ahh look at this boy stimming

recently, the more i’ve watched dean the more i’m more inclined to think he’s also on the autism spectrum. just SO different from cas. and forced to hide all his traits by his upbringing, lifestyle, and surroundings, the way women with autism tend to do.

-

DEAN TRYING TO GUESS WHAT HAPPENED TO THE THING AND CAS SAYING NO !!!!!!!!!!

10/10

edit: probably my favourite part of this episode tbh. and i completely forgot about it until i was re-reading this post just now

-

06:05

anael/sister jo: “well, the healthcare systems sucks, so i pick up the slack”

resentful applause would be appropriate here

-

i like how she’s dressed! stripy blue turtleneck under a red satin cocktail dress under a bubblegum pink blazer!!!! nice!!

-

06:20pm

accidentally moved my computer and it turned off, lost a bit of this post. basically it was me saying ARE YOU TELLING ME ANAEL AND RUBY WERE CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE and having my fingers crossed for it being explicitly romantic somewhere in this

and then cas is talking to jack

cas: “dean feels things more acutely than any human i’ve ever known”

which, for one thing, only feeds my growing autistic!dean headcanon

and secondly, there’s a shot of the pizza as he says that!!!! significant

-

did dean just call sam ‘samwitch’ or is he referring to sam/rowena

-

cas: “the demon you were sexually intimate with”

which just reminds me how ruby was cas’ parallel that season.....

-

so i guess nowadays they just pop into hell like it’s a grocery store

-

dean’s gonna be so mad if cas dies forever

-

team free will dies if jack does it wrong

MUCH PRESSURE TO PUT ON TINY JACK O NOES

-

anael and ruby are definitely playing good omens

-

06:46

jack questioning this every step of the way probably Means Something

-

dean and cas standing in a church by the altar looks a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle like a wedding

-

i question how the moon would be in exactly the right place and fullness in order for them to find that. one minute off and they never would’ve seen it. and ruby’s been dead 10 years and somehow knows where the moon is, topside???

-

SO CAS JUST FOUND A SNITCH AND THE SNITCH IS LIKE “EAT ME”

very harry potter

-

jack’s gonna eat the snitch isn’t he

-

snek

JACK HEARS PARSELTONGUE

there is SO MUCH good omens and harry potter in this, i love it

-

dean and cas at the altar again........ ugh <3

-

brazil iS NOT WHERE ANYONE WANTS TO BE

everything is Bad there

-

07:00

HOO

it’s over

well that was a different episode than the trailer made it out to be. good though. wow so much all at once. i enjoyed seeing the ladies again.

THE RECAP ABOUT THE PIZZA THOUGH. like... it wasn’t textual in the episode, just made people Aware of the subtext?? which means regular people WILL BE NOTICING THE DESTIEL GOING FORWARD. OH BOY.

i’m too tired to have coherent thoughts but i enjoyed this!! i love jack and billie and i love how concerned dean was about dead!cas, and the other-sam-and-dean were funny but THEY’RE JUST?? OUT THERE IN THE WORLD NOW??

10/10 and i am intrigued about what’s coming next........

but yeah there was destiel. it’s just a pizza metaphor now.

*pizza emoji*, *clown emoji*

--

edit: so i just realised this was a bucklemming episode and THAT EXPLAINS MY WEIRD FEELING OF “i enjoyed this but something felt off”. like parts of this fell flat and felt like they skimmed potential rather than delving into it, and i was like hmmmm, but ignored the feeling bc i am just really fuckin tired. but yeah that explains the busty asian beauties thing too. i didn’t mention it bc ugh can’t be bothered. but yeah. adjusting my rating to 8/10 because it really does make a difference knowing the author’s intentions were questionable

[shinneth]

subject to future deletion

Normally I wouldn’t resort to that and I might end up being too lazy to do it anyway, but between getting sick again, dealing with some very intense verbal abuse every day irl, and the monthly burdens of the gender, I’m really not in a good place right now and I need to vent something. 

It’s officially gotten bad enough to interfere with my ability to write, even though I’m at a point in my current story that I’ve been very eager to reach... and every step of the way I’m struggling to write it and I hate what I currently have and it’s taking everything in my current power to not just scrap it entirely. 

Basically, I think I’m failing as a writer.

The irl stuff is actually not what I’m gonna get into because it’s really nothing new and it’ll probably resolve itself, but the side-effect of suffering that kind of negativity is that it enhances lingering negative feelings you’ve had about other things.

Namely, things you do to get away from the pains of the real world. The things you do to have fun and get some enjoyment out of life, no matter how challenging it is to be in this thing because it’s so wrongfully derided and demonized by the majority of your peers.

I try to keep telling myself it’s just because I’m still relatively very new to the fandom compared to my contemporaries, but as I’m typing this right now and listening to my favorite wrestler Shelton Benjamin in an interview, immediately I see the pit I’m starting to fall into. 

Like, it’s uncanny. This is what he said as I started on the above paragraph:

“If I sit and constantly compare myself to other people’s successes, you would drive yourself crazy. Because no matter what, there’s always someone who’s gonna be more successful.”

“I need to remember where I come from; how far I’ve came.”

Basically, in the very small world of Stevidot (and to a lesser extent, SU’s fandom as a whole), despite my efforts, I feel very much like the Shelton Benjamin in a small, dedicated group of talented Stevidot content creators.

Which is to say, I’m basically a midcarder in the mix with a bunch of top-tier legends. Shelton graduated from the same group as some modern very well-known mainstream stars that I can easily associate with a very well-known and accomplished Stevidot contributor.

Shelton graduated with the likes of John Cena, Brock Lesnar, Dave Batista, and Randy Orton. At least half of those names should be at least vaguely familiar for my followers as most of them have had such great success that they’re known in avenues beyond wrestling (save for Randy Orton, but he’s well past outshined his father as a legendary wrestler who’ll never be forgotten). 

I could easily say Watcher is the John Cena of Stevidot, while Platon’s probably the Brock Lesnar... sinderella0069′s the Batista. But I honestly don’t feel like I’ve done enough (or stood out enough) to even be a Randy Orton for this pairing. I’d at least give that honor to Ig just for being so active with it on Tumblr despite the wave of hatred thrown her way (even though she’s shifted focus onto Stevinel now). 

Again, I keep trying to tell myself that it’s because I’m not even remotely as tenured in the fandom as any of them are. 

Then I see this said in a review on a very recently-made Stevidot story...

And said reviewer has not once ever left a review on any Stevidot story of mine. Not even a follow or a favorite or a goddamned kudos. Considering I currently have an actively-updated Stevidot story going on (and a two-shot that I just did last month), I highly doubt my stuff was just overlooked.

Now, is it true that Stevidot is hard to come by? Of course it is. But this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a fellow Stevidot fan lament about the lack of Stevidot content while completely disregarding anything I contribute.

I know there’s one that outright doesn’t like my content based on personal taste (nothing to do with Stevidot itself, just how I execute it). There’s another big-name who shows no interest whatsoever in reading what I have to offer - and at this point I feel that’s for the best, because I have a feeling they’d hate my execution as well. 

While I’ve always primarily written for myself, I also felt a great fulfillment for providing content for a niche crowd that really deserves more than what they have. I think Stevidot’s a fantastic pairing with tons of unexplored potential and should be much more readily available than it actually is. Even if I tend to not get many reviews, I keep track of the site traffic every day on my stories and I know for sure that there are people reading my stuff. Since I’m really bad at leaving reviews myself, I go out of my way not to whine about not having very many overall for my series since I’d be a huge-ass hypocrite to do so. 

However.

Statements like the the aforementioned review and statements I’ve seen elsewhere by those who I know are at least aware of me are like stakes through the heart.

Because it can only mean one thing: my content doesn’t count.

I’m honestly not sure which is worse for me; being critically panned for the stuff I’ve put my all into over the past year, or being treated like my stuff doesn’t even exist. 

I prided myself on contributing as much as I did for Stevidot over this past year. Quantity doesn’t = automatic quality, but I’ve got 20+ years of writing experience in, so even someone with a shit self-esteem like myself can’t just say I’m an objectively bad writer, because I’m not. 

But apparently it doesn’t matter that I put in over half a million worlds in the name of Stevidot to a good chunk of the very tiny Stevidot fanbase; according to them, my contributions are irrelevant.

Is it my fault?

One thing I will admit is a detriment to my particular brand of Stevidot is that, save for one story (which happens to be by far my most successful Stevidot story in terms of recognition numbers), the rest of my series follows a continuous narrative that greatly deviates from canon as of Change Your Mind. I’m also notoriously a very verbose kind of writer - I have the tl;dr curse something fierce. 

So all stories I’ve written since my main 3-act series (which ended up being nearly 200k in length on its own) have been direct sequels to that. Because of the heavy deviation from CYM, the environment of the following stories is very different and easy to get lost in if you skipped GA entirely. 

Because there are so many dangling threads and new opportunities to be had after GA ended, I basically committed myself to my AU.

It’s not like anyone else is going to explore these possibilities.

Beyond that, honestly, I just don’t want to rewire my brain back to the canon status quo - not after the shitloads of character development I’ve not only given Steven and Peridot, but nearly everyone at this point has had a moment or two of really intense character growth. 

I like having Peridot co-star with Steven. I like having her become a more competent and active teammate than she’s portrayed in canon (while still giving her comic relief moments). I like that I didn’t redeem the Diamonds and instead had them killed off to force our protagonists to deal with the fallout of the collapse of a mighty empire on a much grander scale than what’s going on in the actual show.

In a way, this AU of mine has helped me cope with the shortcomings of the show itself. I already went on a stupid tirade once about how the sadistic nature of my writing has basically made me no-sell whatever trauma Rebecca Sugar’s throwing on Steven and upsetting everyone else. I’m still fairly certain I’m still outdoing her in that department. 

And because 100% of my passion for creating Stevidot is through this narrative I weaved, I have no desire to leave it. 

So I’ll admit my stories aren’t exactly the most accessible to the average reader who hasn’t been following my work since Day 1. 

Then again... I first got into Sinderella’s series completely ass-backwards at first. I eventually read it in the proper order, and like many of the great Stevidot epics, it’s canon divergent from a much earlier point in the series, so it was very easy to get confused about why certain things happened differently at first... but ultimately, I wasn’t that bothered by it because I just wanted some good Stevidot. I’d figure out the finer details later. 

I really do owe this author more props than I’ve actually given - she’s one out of two readers I know for a fact have been following my series since the beginning without missing a beat. I’ll probably review her newest story sooner or later now that it’s complete. 

Not gonna lie, though... when I saw our numbers side-by-side like this:

Considering they’re very similar stories (Stevidot smuts that were originally meant to be one-shots), mine is over a month old and hers is only a few days old and there’s already that big of a gap in our numbers? 

It’s hard not to feel like a failure; like I did something horribly wrong to suck this bad by comparison. 

I really should stress that I bear no ill will against Sinderella or any Stevidot author; this isn’t a competition, so this isn’t a matter of popularity. I knew coming into this that I wouldn’t get popular overnight; especially not with such an unpopular ship being the focus of my story. 

But when other Stevidot stories get frequent reviewers that I’ve never seen once acknowledge my stories even passively, I can’t help but feel like I’ve massively fucked up somewhere. That despite all my efforts, I might as well be invisible. When they say “Oh, good thing your story is here! It’s been such a Stevidot drought around here until you came along!” to other authors after I’ve written half a million fucking words in under a year for this ship...

You know, is it unreasonable to feel that I utterly fucking failed in several ways? 

I guess it’s no wonder why I’m struggling to keep writing. I still want to - like I said, I’m at a part I’ve been eager to write for a while now - but ever since I started it, I’ve just hated almost all of what I have so far (almost 8k words). And I’m really having trouble trying to salvage it.

I’m honestly not the type who’d scrap all my progress and start from scratch once I’ve gotten this far in. But maybe I’ll have to make an exception this time, because I think I finally made the mistake of trying to write while being mentally and emotionally distraught.

I thought I’d calm down once I wrote all this out, but honestly, I’m not really feeling it. Now I’m wondering if I should have just reached out to someone instead of making this, because now I’ll come off as a whiner with my pansy-ass first-world problems. 

But then again, I’d be an asshole to subject anyone to my idiotic woes. 

Maybe this’ll pass. I’m hoping it’ll pass. I really, really really really don’t want to lose my drive to write again. I was used to it coming and going in short and random spurts for almost all my life - then it finally came to me and stayed with me just a little under a year ago, and I’ve been desperate not to let it go because I’ve been more productive now than I’ve ever been in my 20+ tenure as a writer. 

I don’t want this to go away. There’s still so much more I want to tell. 

But then my logic goes... if you tell the story and no one’s there to hear it, is it ever really told?

[conchobarbarian]

sometimes I think about how, growing up, “erin isn’t funny/is terrible at telling stories” was itself a joke in my house. I’d start telling a story & one of my older siblings would theatrically sigh, “oh, here we go” & I’d feel so ashamed of presuming they wanted to listen to me that I’d forget what I was saying. & then “erin never finishes stories” became part of the joke, too.

& even though I was good at making people laugh, it didn’t even register that I could be funny until I was like halfway through college. I had friends who very evidently thought I was fun & interesting to talk to, but that didn’t mean anything. like I literally remember the first time someone told me I was funny, because it fucking blindsided me at age 19. I felt like I had to rewire my brain to make sense of it. “leni just called me funny, but I can’t be, because that story had like three tangents in it.” despite having, actually, a fair amount of evidence to the contrary, I was so convinced I couldn’t land a joke well that at that point I apologized when I got off-track, even if people were laughing.

it fucking sucked. I was so aware of the conversational space I took up, and so conscious of it every time I did tell a bad joke. no one could possibly be interested in the stuff I was interested in, & every topic I brought up had to be just conversational filler at best. but I also couldn’t stop talking, even when I wanted to, so I was just stuck with this idea of myself as this obnoxious, chatty bore. & since I already hated myself, I was super sensitive to/defensive of other people’s criticism, real or imagined, so I talked more. if everything I said was encroaching on other people’s interest, I had to be as big & loud & grandiose & self-important as possible, because then that could be the joke. if everything I did was a performance, than it wasn’t me that people hated, it was the character I was playing. but then if that performance made someone laugh, that wasn’t me, either.

I guess the point, aside from just verbalizing this, is, like, think about what the things you say mean to the people you say them to. maybe my siblings weren’t old enough to realize just how much they were messing me up, but they were old enough to know better. they were old enough that they could’ve listened when I said they were hurting my feelings. they were old enough to pay attention when I asked them to stop making fun of me. there’s still a lot of distance in my relationships with all three of my older siblings, & so much of that stems from how fucking small they loved making me feel. & if I told them, would they apologize? or would they tell me I was too sensitive, or “well, you did tell really bad stories?”

[fritopaws]

Stroke Jokes

What do you think about stroke jokes? Would you find it peculiar that I could joke about a serious medical emergency? Would it bother you that I would compare it to a Prius, because they are both “silent killers”? 

Strokes are most definitely not funny. They are actually quite horrifying. A part of your brain either bleeds or has compromised blood flow because of a clot. The brain: the “settings” part of your body, where you keep your passwords and credit card information. Where you keep your speakers, microphone, and music library. I mean, it’s pretty important. It’s where you set your username and choose notifications. And when it’s compromised, you can lose all of your data, some of your data, or need to reset the whole damn thing. 

My settings were fucked up not once but twice. Two strokes. One from a neck manipulation by a massage person who had no business manipulating a neck and one 1 ½ years later related to a neck overextension/trauma (and perhaps related to episode 1). And, yes I did settle a lawsuit, and bought a car with good safety features and thought about getting a personalized license plate that said: Stroke Mobile. (Or would it have to be StrkMobl?)

Part of what is funny/not funny is that nobody really truly knew what the hell happened to me the second time. Reoccurance rate is about 1%, so… like, what the actual fuck, right? Well, if I learned one thing during this lifetime, it’s that sometimes weird, scary shit happens. And, while you’ll want medical experts to tell you EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED, they won’t be able to. They may even say fucked up shit like, if I were you, I would just sit on a couch until it’s figured out. Ha hahahah! Funny joke! Just sit on a couch. Until someone figures it out. Spoiler alert: nobody really truly figured it out. One doc said, “retire your active lifestyle.” What the fuck does that even mean? Closest I had to something to grab onto was when this one neuro doc said, “Well, we looked at your angiogram. Everything seems normal now. So, carry on. Go forth. Live your life. Good bye!!!!” He was actually my favorite doctor from the whole goddamn affair because he let me pick the music I wanted when I had the angiogram and then complimented me on my good taste. Oh, and by the way, whatever drugs they put you on when you get an angiogram…. They are good. 

Oh, and did you know they put a thing in your GROIN to see what’s happening in your brain when you get an angiogram? I felt nauseous when I heard that was going to happen. I guess that’s where the good drugs come in. Because then you are like, oh, I feel a thing in my groin. Is that thing going into my artery? Wait. who the fuck cares. Not me! Oooh, I like this song.  

When I was hospitalized the first time, in San Francisco (I had a stroke while at work. My poor coworkers.), I had to be transported to the neuro ward in Redwood City, soon to be deemed Redwood Shitty. When I arrived, it was very much like that horrible scene in Jacob’s Ladder. I was wheeled into a large room where people were obviously in varying states of distress. I was in my own state, as my brain hadn’t quite caught up to what was really going on. I think I had been drugged for the 2 (?) hour ambulance ride. I don’t remember one second of that ride. Anyway, here I was, in an open room (and I thought this was it, and that this was my new room), not super with it, not fully being able to answer questions, being asked a lot of questions, looking around in horror, waiting for my wife, and feeling like I had just landed in the worst place in the world. It ended up that this was not my room, this was just the intake area. Thank god. Anyway, soon my brain was kinda comprehending what was happening, my wife had joined me, I was assigned a room, and we sat in awe and we both were like, WHERE ARE WE, WHAT JUST HAPPENED, HOW AM I NOT DEAD, WHO IS GOING TO FEED OUR DOGS? It wasn’t funny, but at the same time, it wasn’t horrible. I wasn’t in actual pain. Believe it or not, we laughed quite a bit for the days I was there, never turned on the TV, talked a lot, and looked forward to visits from my hot neuro doc. We’d hear her heels coming down the hall and we’d get all giggly. I was experiencing what it was like for my body and brain to start healing from a horrible trauma, and it was… interesting. I swore I could feel my brain starting to rewire itself. Whether or not that is what I was experiencing, I could feel… something. It felt like electricity in my brain. I could feel the little synapses trying to talk to each other. They were like, hey, over here, let’s connect… some of our friends died, but we’re still here. Wanna hold hands?

Oh, and by the way, that bed was the most comfortable bed ever. I remember laying there, thinking, I don’t know if I’ve ever been so comfortable in my life, which is weird because I had a stroke and am now in a hospital, but wow, I like how this bed feels. Good thing, because I was in it for 5 days straight. 

My mom and sister flew in from New Mexico, and I feel like they were just staring at me a lot, kinda confused about what had happened to me. Perhaps waiting for me to explain it to them but I was like, dunno.  At this point, I was bedridden, so we just sat around and chatted. Family bonding but in a hospital room in a city we didn’t live in, and my hair was fucked up the entire time. My sister and wife spend an afternoon looking for a suitable hotel for my mom and sister to stay at for a few days near the hospital. Apparently they saw some doozies. Mirrors on ceilings. Lights that didn’t work. They came back laughing and creeped out. Redwood Shitty for sure. 

Eventually I made it out of there. One day they were like, hey get up. Let’s walk you down the hall. Can you walk? And I was like, I’m not sure if I remember this. But I gave it a shot and hobbled down the hall, and so was deemed worthy of taking my stroke brain home. 

So, I don’t know if I’m ready to do a stroke stand-up set, but it has crossed my mind. I never have done stand-up, but what better to try to make funny (funnyish?) than that time when I had a stroke. And the other time I had a stroke? 

Before I end, I just wanted to share an actual stroke joke that I stole from the internet. There are actually tons of stroke jokes out there -what!. (Maybe not tell them unless you’ve had one, though.) Just watched a documentary about stroke survivors Very one sided

[alligaytorrr-official]

awful how viscerally i feel myself getting worse. how the trauma of feeling so painfully horrible for so long is rewiring my brain. and i know it and can't stop it or don't want to stop it. getting closer and closer to a point where it'll be too late to recover. i guess that's what i want. and that in itself is a symptom of how fucked my thought processes have become, but despite the ability to recognize that i am wholly powerless to see any fix. that's just how it's become.

[jamieloveslearning]

Here's the ramblings from my notes. I find it really hard to organize my thoughts in a linear way, and so I KNOW that they're disorganized but I don't know how to organize them:

I USED that. I USED the excuse of my mind being hazy so I didn't have to take control. If I don't have control, if I just stay limp and emotionless and (oh my god my thoughts are so loud rn they're like the only thing existing g and it's like a storm that whips around more like a tornado actually and I haven't felt this way in a LOOOOONG time it feels like when I used to write down in my journal and I'd have a revalation or something, so honed in its really wild) so if I don't have control nothing is really my fault, the failure of not doing anything for so long, for falling into that slump in 2020 and really rewiring my brain in a lot of ways, trying to cope with the immense amounts of stress. It's not that the brain fog isn't real and doesn't hinder me but I have given in and let myself use it in order to cope, not unlike dissociation. Fuck this might literally just be dissociation but this is more nuanced looking into it.

But when I AM in control, and everything is flying past and my thoughts are so fast they don't even feel like they're me in that I'm the one doing things but that's okay it's like I've got my own mini support system and it's myself lol

So not only does the meds help, the monster drinks help, but what also REALLY helps is reminding myself that I AM totally and wholly capable of doing the things that I want to do. It's like, so simple, but I just had to get there my own way, fire those neurons in the right order in order for it to TRULY make sense to me.

I'm learning how to live and I have to keep reminding myself that I'm alive and I'm a human with agency and choices I keep forgetting it but I'm also slowly REMEMBERING it with more and more frequency, I'm rewriting those pathways.

I am my own person whole in and of itself I've been drilled over and over with "less of me, more of you god" "empty myself so that I may have more of your spirit". I was brainwashed. I TRIED to be empty. But I don't like it, god doesn't take its place, nothing does, so now I have space to fill. And I can fill it however I damn well please.

(REMINDER: reading for hours on end gets my mind working really well like pushing old dusty gears and then they start spinning out of control, wish there was some sort of middle ground but I guess that's why I've got a disorder lol)